IEEE Spectrum June, 2014 - 85

two to
tango
"Swear on pussy willows' pussies."
"Then you're obsessing over the OptiCam images."
"Isn't that my business?"
Trevor lost his temper, something even
rarer than losing his smile. "Oh, Christ,
Mandy, you're my business! Don't you
know that if I were straight, you and I
would have married and had three Beckys
of our own? Don't you know how much
better I'd have been for you than Jake? I
can handle your intensity, he couldn't.
And I know when you're lying to me."
"Please go, Trevor. I'm not up to this
right now, really I'm not-"
He left, slamming the door behind him.
Once, nothing in the world would have
kept me from following him. Trevor, my
best friend, my support and confidant....
On the screen in the bedroom, Becky lay
in her infant seat, studying her bare toes.
She must have just woken up. On the rug,
barely within the circle of her unknowing
vision, Jake and Pam made love.
Frantically I keyed in his cell number.
Anything to disrupt them, anything! The
call went to voice mail. "Stop!" I screamed.
"Stop, stop, stop!" The cell must have been
on silent; they didn't stop.
I am not sane, I thought, which was my
last sane thought.

i ca lled in sick to wor k on monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. I never left my
bedroom. It began to smell: of Becky's
diapers, piled in the corner whenever I
changed her. Of a pizza molding on the
dresser. Of me.
On Thursday morning, Trevor returned.
"Mandy?"
"Go away! Go away!" I'd waited all week
for 10:00 a.m. on Thursday! Trevor was
not going to spoil this!
"Mandy...oh my God." He stood in the
door to my bedroom. Becky gurgled in
her swing. She was dressed in her snowsuit; the window stood open to help with
the stench.

"Go away!" I barely glanced at him-
it was 9:57!
"Mandy, darling, whatever you're going to do...don't."
9:58.
"Let me help you. You know we've always helped each other."
"Don't touch me!"
"I won't. You know I won't if you don't
want me to. I'm just going to pick up Becky,
okay? Here we go, sweetheart, come to
Uncle Trevor...."
9:59.
Jake's law office was superefficient. The
partners would be gathering in his spacious office for the regular Thursday morning meeting. His wall screen would be on,
ready to bring up the week's data. He didn't
know I had his office password; I'd stolen
it right after he told me he was leaving me,
but despite everything that had led to the
restraining order I'd never used it. Until now.
Trevor said, "Mandy, what are you doing? Put down your cell if you're calling
the cops. I'm not here to force you to do
anything you don't want to do, I promise.
Put down the cell."
10:00.
I pushed both buttons simultaneously,
my cell and the "Send" button on the
computer. The phone number bypassed
Jake's office answering system-a direct
line for privileged clients who needed
to reach their lawyer instantly for some
legal emergency. Jake would not recognize the number of my new, throwaway
cell. His voice said, "Hello?"
Now it would happen. Now I would get
what I had been trying for so long, what I
needed more than food or water or even
Becky: I would get a reaction from Jake.
The image of him and Pam naked on the
rug would burst from the wall screen in
his office in all its color-saturated, threedimensional luridness, and Jake would
know I had done it. That he could not
erase me.
"Hello? Who is this?" Jake said, still calm.
"Can I help you?"

it takes
two to
tango
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Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of IEEE Spectrum June, 2014