Complications

Back to the Brokenhearted

Clessa sat silently in the Machine. She felt as if the whole universe was dumped onto her shoulders, and then the Professor told her to go and run three miles.
The Professor walked over to Clessa, seeing her stricken face.
"Hey, it'll be okay."
"I have to go back to the place where all of my problems are."
"You say problems as in plural, what else is going on?"
Clessa looked up at the Professor, and wondered if she could trust this strange man. Quickly, her decision was made.
"Today, my best friend in the whole wide world...kissed me. And I kissed back. But, then I realized what a mistake it was. When I tried to tell him that, he got really angry and offended. But then he never even really acted like he cared about my feelings. Now, he made us seen like we made up, but I don't feel like we really did. I know if I speak up again, he'll get really offended."
The Professor used a soft, and sincere voice.
"Why did he kiss you?"
"Because," Clessa stood up and walked to the control panels,"he has been in love with me for ten years."
"You sure do sound modest," teased the professor.
You may be wondering, why had Clessa never noticed the man and why she had so immediately trusted him.
Well, she never noticed the man when she was growing up because of the fact that she never wanted to. Clessa noticed the man, but she never wanted to realize he was there. He was in fact there, and she knew that, but she never wanted to believe that he kept showing up.
Clessa immediately trusted him because of the fact that he save her from a time that she so desperately wanted to leave. Clessa knew that any other random man who had just showed up and tried to help her would not have been as sweet, kind, and helpful.
"I don't mean to sound vain or self absorbed, but he told me."
"Ok. And I totally believe you."
"Fine, ask him yourself."
Clessa crossed her arms and looked defiantly at the man who had so helped her.
"He was there, when you came and picked me up."
The Professor chuckled and flipped a few switches on the control panel.
"Was he the dork with the glasses and spiked hair?"
"Yes, yes he was."
Clessa straightened her face and kept an icy gaze locked into the Professor.
"Now I believe you."
Clessa walked around the Machine, examining the many functions.
"How can you remember what buttons to flick, or press?"
The Professor grinned.
"I don't remember."
"Then how-."
"I just flick random ones and hope for the best."
"Really?"
Clessa looked awestruck.
"No. Just poking fun at you," the Professor leaned over and poke Clessa," I review the manual every three days to keep my brain fresh."
The Professor smiled at Clessa.
"And we have arrived at our destination."
"Tell me, what is that feeling that you get when riding in this thing?"
"It's the feeling of the world passing between your fingers. Oh just wait until you travel in time. What an amazing feeling that is."
The Professor walked over to the Machine's door, and lightly pushed it open.
"C'mon."
"I can't," whispered Clessa.
"Yes you can."
Clessa shook her head. The Professor came over to her.
"Clessa, you know that I believe in you. And if I knew you could not do something, would I make you do it?"
Clessa shook her head.
"Then why would I make you do something that could possibly damage yourself emotionally or physically?"
He reached for Clessa's hand, and she gave it to him. They slowly walked over to the door, and entered the hallway.
"Here we are, apartment 88," said Clessa.
The Professor nodded. And then, around the corner came Simon. His face was flushed, and red.
"Clessa! Where have you been?!?"
Clessa stared at Simon.
"I've been looking all over for you!"
"I was...out."
"With who?"
"The Professor."
The Professor waved at Simon.
"Hello there! How have you been?"
"Fabulous."
"Well that's peachy!"
The Professor slipped past Simon and walked into the apartment.
"Who is he?"
"Just a friend."
"Where did he come from?"
"I can't tell you."
Clessa started walking into her apartment.
"Why not?"
Clessa turned around.
"I just can't."
Clessa turned around and walked faster towards the kitchen. She had to force every single thought about where her parents were out of her mind, and only focus on doing whatever the Professor said. When Clessa got into the kitchen, the Professor was lying on the floor, examining the glass, and talking to himself.
"But the glass! It's broken exactly the same as Camilla's but that's bloody impossible! The odds are one in a million billion! No one human could have done that..."
"Need any help?"
The Professor looked up from his studies, and stared at Clessa.
"Well, two heads are better than one."
The Professor got up and and sat on the counter next to Clessa.
"Glass, broken exactly the same, not one mistake, two different places, exactly the same. How? How is that possible?"
Clessa looked up at the Professor.
"It's not."
"Exactly."
"Then how did it happen?"
"It happened.... I don't know. I DONT KNOW!"
Clessa looked up at the Professor, confused and dumbfounded.
"I'm grieving....its fairly hard to think."
"I understand. But I really really really really need you to help me think."
Clessa nodded.
"Maybe the person actually is alien. They can always cover up their tracks, just like in every mystery."
"I'm not positive, but maybe you are right."
Clessa grinned in satisfaction, just as Simon came in.
"What are you two blokes doing?"
"Investigating super secret spy stuff."
The Professor grinned.
"You know, like top secret," said Clessa with a grin.
"I may or may not have been eavesdropping and heard that you have been needing some assistance with brains."
"Oh really! Did you find someone to help."
Simon rolled his eyes and looked at Clessa.
"Give me the details...please."
"Hold on, first we need to decide if he's smart or not. What is the formula for energy?"
"E equals mc squared."
"Everybody knows that anyways."
"Okay give me another one."
"Alright, what is 1576 divided by 197?"
"I'll need pen and paper."
"It's eight," chimed in Clessa.
"Since when did you get so smart?"
Clessa shrugged.
"To save time, your on the team, Clessa, will you tell him everything except the stuff about my personal life?"
Clessa nodded.
As Clessa was talking to Simon, the Professor dusted for fingerprints on the glass.
"Impossible," said the Professor to himself.
"No fingerprints, no...nothing."
"He's up to speed, and no questions Simon."
"Here's the wacky thing, there are no fingerprints or...anything on the glass. Like someone had on gloves or whatever."
"But, it sounded like my parents dropped the glass."
"Well, now it looks as though our suspect did."
"Let me get this straight, your saying there is a neat freak dropping glass perfectly leaving no mess? Impossible."
"Well, did you know that aliens are real Mr. Science?"
Simon said nothing.
"That's what I thought."
"But at Camilla's house, their were fingerprints."
"Yes, and that's what stumps me the most."
"Can I share my theory," asked Simon.
"We've got nothing better to do."
The Professor pulled up a dining room chair.
"Tell me."
"Well, what if our person is slowly gaining intelligence? What if they are slowly learning how to perform crimes better and better? If this person was an alien, they probably would have already gathered enough intelligence to perform a perfect operation the first time."
"So you are saying..."
"That our criminal is indeed human. And he is slowly becoming better and better at covering up tracks. I still don't get the glass."
"Neither do I."
Clessa sat in the corner, recollecting all of their conversation, but immediately got distracted by her parents. Her parents, out in the world, and she had no idea where they were and even if they were alive.
"Clessa?"
"Hm?"
"Are you ready to go back to Camilla's house?"
Clessa stood up and brushed her jeans off.
"Of course."
And as they bounded out of the room, turning from a group of two to a group of three, Clessa decided to shove the thought of her parents out of her mind.
"Alright gain, to Camilla's!"
And they were off in a flash.