Fiction: The Adventures of Chelsea the Social Worker, Part 5!

 Getting toward the end of the week, again filling things out with more of Chelsea. I swear I will get back to Sidekick Carl next week. This would have been two chapters, but one of the characters I was writing for was just too much. As usual, here's links for the first and previous installments.

Two days later, Chelsea and Shad returned for their compatibility assessment, still delivered by Diane. “We took a little longer than usual with the assessment, to ensure that you had full data,” Diane said. She held out a sheaf of papers. “Here’s the report.”

Shad took a look, and promptly pointed. “This is the compatibility score? The real one?”

“Yes,” Chelsea said. Her tone was clearly disappointed if not troubled.

“What’s a good score?”

“.61 would be good enough for a state assignment,” Chelsea said with forced cheer.

“So… .57,” Shad said.

“Yes, the score is somewhat low,” Diane said. “It’s the detailed analysis I would like to discuss. Now, if you turn to the first page, you will see an analysis of your personalities…” Chelsea did look optimistic as she examined the numbers, and Shad soon smiled.

“The personality score is really the main reason you scored as well as you did,” Diane said. “As you can see, you have significant differences, but they’re the kind that are complimentary. Then there are underlying similarities, enough that you should probably have both been diagnosed autistic. We still see this all the time. Men get flagged early, women slip through the cracks.”

“I knew,” Chelsea said. “At least, we were pretty sure.”

Shad was already turning to the next page. “Next, you will see your physical compatibility,” Diane said. It took him only a few moments to work it out.

“Wow,” Shad said. “I would have thought we’d be a lot better. I mean, well, you always tell me…”

Chelsea patted his hand. “Of course,” she said. “I’d never lie to you.”

Diane cut in pointedly, “Now, if you look at the third page, you will see an assessment of what we call Goals And Values. What you believe is right or wrong. What you think is important. What you want for your future. These are the results that are… odd.”

They looked at the third page. Chelsea frowned. After a moment, Shad got a pensive look. “So, as you can see, the major results are favorable,” Diane said. “For example, you both want children, though not a large family. Shad, you actually show higher aptitude for childcare than Chelsea does. But there are significant differences. Your religious beliefs aren’t that different, though you value religious observance more than she does. The biggest deviations are in your career goals. Chelsea, you value your career, and you place a very high value on recognition and achievement. Shad, as much as he values his art, doesn’t have a need for further affirmation. If anything, he should be trying a little harder to connect with his peers. Nobody is saying your partnership shouldn’t continue, but you have more issues than normal.”

Chelsea looked thoughtfully at Shad. He was growing visibly troubled. She flinched instinctively when he spoke. “It’s all numbers,” he said. “All my life has been numbers. I’m done with that.” He looked Chelsea in the eye. “I love you, Blue Bell. That’s enough.”

Chelsea took his hand with a smile. “There is… something else,” she said. “I already made a request for… an instructor. This should make it easier.”

“What do you mean?” Shad said. “We’re doing fine, aren’t we?”

“Yes, of course,” Chelsea said. “There’s just… things I’d like to change up a bit.”

Diane sighed. “I looked into that,” she said. “I can get you in with Kloe.”

Chelsea said instinctively, “Oh, dear God.” After a moment, she nodded.

* * *

 

Weeks, and then months went by. They had their sessions with Kloe, which ended with Shad being offered an entry into a program for training as an physical therapy instructor. Meanwhile, Chelsea went back to work. In their third month in the module, Shad greeted Chelsea with a kiss as she entered through the rear door that entered into the lower-level den. “So, Kloe says I already have the scores to graduate,” he said. “She wants me to start training for Educational Resources. They’re planning something big. I think I can get some of my old crew on board.”

“That’s nice,” Chelsea said with a smile.

“So,” he said, “I have something to show you. Nobody’s seen it. See, I’ve been making my own stop-motion movie, with the Kong you gave me, and the one I made for you.”

She smiled again. “The one I told you to lock up and never show to anyone and preferably throw in one of the Office’s turbine fans?”

“Yeah… that one. Now she’s in my movie.” He pulled her to him. “A movie that’s never going to be seen by absolutely anyone ever… except you. If you want to see it.”

She pressed a finger to his breastbone. “Only… only… if you give me the best therapy I have ever had.”

“Okay,” he said. “Can we… watch the movie first?”

“Now that,” Chelsea said, “is blackmail… And I like it.”

They descended to his workroom, where he had already set up a bedsheet screen. He moved her portrait to one side to make room for a beanbag chair. “It’s actual film?” she mused

“I had to do it like Obie,” he said.

“I hate that I know who that is,” she said. He was winding the projector when a knock came at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Shad said. Suddenly, Chelsea grabbed his arm.

“Shad,” she said, “I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure… It’s him.”

And that was when Tilly called down from above: “Shad, what the Hell did you do???”

* * *

 

They cautiously ascended to the main living area of the split-level module. They approached the door cautiously. Beyond it was a raised porch. “What do you want?” Chelsea called out. She pushed open the door, to reveal an android with a visor in place of eyes.

“I notice,” Percy said, “you didn’t ask who I was.” He waved a hand vaguely. “They sent me. This time, I’m not alone.” Behind him were several more cops on the porch, a squad of court personnel on the steps, and beyond, her best friend Diane, and an old woman flanked by a pair of lawyers. At the sight of the last,  Shad’s grip tightened.

“Blue Bell,” he said, “that’s Maimeo. We can’t win. Nobody can. Just let me go, and I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Chelsea pulled free. Then, after a moment’s thought, she took a step back. “This is a private residence,” she said. “You can’t come in without a warrant, or an order for my arrest.”

“I don’t have to come in,” Percy said. “I don’t have to do anything. I’m just here to witness that you hear what they have to say.”  Chelsea moved to slam the door, but Shad blocked her. The clearly senior court officer stepped forward.

“Mrs. Chelsea Feaghan O’Keefe,” he said, “you are duly notified that the family of your domestic partner, Shad Feaghan, and their counsel have exercised their right to petition for a hearing on your and your partner’s mental competency and fitness. Based on further evidence and substantiated allegations presented by the family, the family has been granted a Class 2 Protective Order against you. You will face no charges or penalties, provided you acknowledge this order and abide by its terms.”

He handed a pad to Percy. “It’s the further order of the court,” he continued, “that the counsel be allowed to examine Mr. Feaghan’s quarters and effects. Their findings will be submitted for review by the court, but will remain otherwise confidential from all parties, including the family. Again, you will face no penalties if you do not interfere.”

For a moment, Chelsea just stared. She almost emerged to challenge the matron, but checked herself. Her eyes locked on her. “That’s it?” she said. “All this time I’ve been holding his hand because he was afraid of you, and you finally come out with this? A protective order to keep me from sleeping with my own husband?”

It was Diane who spoke. “I fought it, Chelsea,” she said. “I had to come clean about a lot of stuff to do it. They hit me with an injunction to stop me from warning you. We’ll keep fighting. We can win. But it’s not going to be today.”

“You know how this works,” Percy said, holding out the pad. “Sign on the line. You can decide who stays and who goes, but you can’t both stay here. Trust me, this could be a lot worse.”

“No,” she said. The look in her eyes would have made Shad curl up and prepare for the inevitable. “I do not acknowledge the order. You can’t make me.”

“You know what happens if you don’t,” Percy said.

“I don’t care,” she said. She tried to slap the pad from his hand. He was mildly impressed that she managed a tenth of the force that would have done it. “He’s mine. I found him. I won him.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You haven’t said you love him.”

And that was when a buzzsaw hit him in the face.

* * *

 

Percy staggered back, his visor flickering and sparking. He toppled as he hit the nearest of two sets of steps, smashing the railing and the stairs. Shad stepped forward, holding up the remnant of the saw, still buzzing and sparking. “You all saw it,” he said. “I hit him. She tried to stop me.”

The rest of the cops promptly came up the main stairs and tackled Shad. As Chelsea reached for him, Percy sat up. She stepped back involuntarily as he rose to his feet. His visor was completely split, along with the front of his helmet-housing and his prosthetic nose. His head twitched side to side as he tried to focus with the damaged sensors. She finally lunged after Shad. She had barely moved before he caught hold of her wrist. He lifted her up with one hand. She didn’t bother to kick. He shook his head. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

As they dragged Shad to a van, the matron embraced him. “Oh, my pretty boy, we’ll take care of you.” She looked up as Percy followed, still holding up Chelsea by the wrist. The matron leaned in with a smile. “And you, you little trollop… We keep a few clean girls around for what you do. 45 minutes with one of them, and he won’t even remember your name.” She turned to the police and shouted, “Tear the place apart!”

They took Shad away, but Chelsea was still by Percy’s side to watch as they carried out his models, his notebooks, his drawings, his film and her portrait. The police and the court officers peered at the blue-maned Kelsiraptor, and turned their heads sideways on seeing the portrait. She turned to the android and examined the visor. “It’s really just a housing for the sensors,” Percy said. “The saw did some damage, more than I’ve taken in a long time, but I can still see.”

“So you can take it off,” she said.

“You could say that,” Percy said. “Yeah, I could.”

“What’s really going to happen?” Chelsea said.

“Not my department,” Percy said. “But it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

Finally, the android turned to her. “You want one thing to make this better?” he said. “What they’ll really remember is this.” He reached up and removed his broken visor… which proved to include his face.