Five

"Kat," Leib's raised voice snapped me of whatever occupied my mind. Geez, even I didn't know I was spacing out. I peeled my eyes from the car's window and looked at my brother. He was still in the driver's seat, but he was peering at me behind his headrest. "You look like you just woke up from a bad dream. We're here." He told me as he checked something on his phone. I looked at him confused, was the car still moving? Why was it so silent? I scanned the confined space I was in, the trees weren't blurring pass us. It had only been—what—a minute since we left school and we're already home? Leib unsnapped his seatbelt. "What's wrong? You have been staring at the window the entire ride, Kat." I don't know what's wrong, it just felt like I time warped. "I don't know." Silence swallowed my whispered answer. My brother stayed silent, his green eyes bored into mine; demanding answers. "The last thing I remembered was April asking if our school was scheduled for a fogging, and then you calling me, telling me that I spaced out." I rubbed my eyes, they seemed dry. The stillness stretched between us, but when I moved to open the door to my side, Leib told me that I shouldn't get out yet. "That's minutes ago, Kat. After April told us about the fogging you suddenly checked out. We tried to get your attention but it was like you were in a trance." He faced in front and I saw his hands moved to his face. "Something's happened to you there, little sis," He let his words hang, like the memory dangling within my reach that I couldn't seem to grasp. "Leib, do you know what's a strain 121?" It was like my brain short-circuited and played my conversation with Les this morning. Being the smart brother that he was, of course his answer was a "Yes," "Why do you want to know about it? Wasn't it discussed in your Biology class?" Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. "No—I mean, yes—but this morning when I saw it in Les' notes, it just kinda got stuck in my head." Not kinda, I think it already took residence in my thoughts. Do I tell him about the flashes? No. "There's more, Kat. Tell me." Okay, then. Let's. "The flashes—memory flashes, I think—started getting more vivid. It was like the reoccurring dream," Chills started touching my nape and arms, so I hugged myself to keep me warm. "What dream?" Leib got out of the car, so I did, too. "Long story," I waved it off as we entered the house. "Kat," he warned. "You told me you'd tell me if something was wrong." "I know, I know. I'll tell you about it some other time. Just tell me something about that Strain 121." My brother huffed and went to the kitchen. Mom and Dad weren't home yet, so maybe my long awaited turn to cook dinner would be of use tonight. I dumped my bag on one of the couches and followed him. Peach greeted me—peach walls with tulip prints—four years since it had been painted and it still made me feel like I was in another dimension whenever I step foot in the kitchen. Cardboard-brown cupboards and cabinets plus a white marble-textured island to complete the...strawberry-chocolate with marshmallows type of kitchen? My family loves happy, lively colors. Or my Mom does. "What? Tell me." Was that word sort of a trigger? Was I badly traumatized that I didn't even had any idea that I was? So many thoughts were running in my head as I rummaged for ingredients in the refrigerator. What if my brain was tweaked in some way? What if someone planted something in me? What if my brain was swapped with another person's?! "I don't wanna have chocolates with onions and oranges for dinner, thank you." Leib's voice cut through my paranoia, and true enough, when I looked down, I was holding a bag of Kisses, onions, and oranges. Huh. I hastily returned the ones I didn't need and this time concentrated getting the real things to cook. "You're stalling. Tell me already." I demanded a little annoyed. My brother's eyes slid to my shoulder and went back to meet mine, wide. "Shit." I heard him let out. I huffed a sigh, "Fine, don't tell me, but don't curse me for asking for help." I jutted my lower lip for an effect and then went to preparing dinner. The sound of the knife hitting the chopping board was the only sound that could be heard and it felt like a life time had passed when Leib decided to break it. "A Strain 121 is a unicellular heat loving bacteria—they are called thermophiles—well, it's the general term for those types of bacteria that prefers to live in temperatures considered warm or hot." He grabbed an apple from the fridge and went back to the chair he was sitting on beside the dining table. Seaweed-green dining table. I listened as I continued doing my kitchen duty. "In a Geogemma barossii's case—strain 121—" he immediately inserted as I opened my mouth to ask who Gemma was. "It is classified as an extremophile. You know, "extreme"," he quoted with his fingers. "According to scientists, this bacterium can live up to one-hundred twenty-one to one-hundred thirty degrees Celsius, hence the name." I put the ingredients plus the sliced bits of chicken in the casserole and then covered it. "So it loves heat. Does it ever get destroyed, like can it really take that amount of heat without burning any of its parts?" Curious now, I leaned on the refrigerator, the kitchen island in between us. "No," Leib answered without hesitation, crossing his legs and leaning on the backrest of the chair as he said so. "Because some of the cell components of these types of organisms possesses particular properties than that of the normal-temperature thriving ones. It was said that the reason these organisms survive in such drastic conditions was the high guanine-cytosine content, though it was later then taken back." I got up from where I was leaning to check and taste the slightly boiling chicken broth, my ears still fixated on my brother's words, though most of them sounded like an alien language. "In the recent studies, it showed that there was no correlation between the content of the genome and the environmental growth of this microorganism. So it still remains a mystery." He finished with a satisfied smile. I didn't talk. Not yet anyway, I was letting everything sink in. In my mind I was applauding my brother for knowing this much about something most doesn't give two poops about. Funny, when Leib was explaining, it didn't trigger any memory flashes. Maybe I was just caught up by the word. Still, that big chunk I was supposed to remember hadn't still came back. "Kat, did you notice anything weird about or around you lately?" The question made me focus on my brother. "Like what?" "Anything." He rested his right elbow in the table and propped his chin on it. Aside from the eye tricks and incoherent murmurs I was occasionally experiencing, and that weird hair-rising dream? I couldn't think of any more. "Nothing." "Kids, we're home." Called Mom from the living room. Huh. I didn't hear any car engine much less the door opening. Mom entered the kitchen in her black slacks, white tucked, button-down blouse, and black pumps. "Hi," She walked towards me and kissed me on the cheek. "How was school?" She asked as she settled her giant tote bag filled with papers and books on the island. "Fine," I mumbled, while Leib stood up and walked to Mom to give her a hug. "I'll go help Dad fix whatever he had brought home to fix." He said and took off. "So," my new kitchen companion began. "What's for dinner?" Mom's hand stayed around my shoulders as she peered in the casserole. "Chicken stew." I answered and couldn't help the pride swelling when I saw her smile of approval after she tasted the currently cooking dish. My mother faced me, concern marring her face. "How are you doing, sweetheart?" I did my best to be nonchalant about it, "I'm okay, Mom. Really." I wanted to know what was happening to me first before I tell them—if¬ there was really something. "It seems to me that your teenie-weenie bag had grown over the day and became monstrous." Being a college professor, Mom usually just lets her student send everything via e-mail, but at the moment it looked like she had them do their paper works for the whole semester. "That's a lot of paper." She just chuckled, kissed me one more time, and went upstairs. I sighed and went to lift Mom's bag off the island. Gah. How could she carry this? It was like there were tons of metal bars stuffed in it. I went and deposited the bag on the couch in the living room, then went back to the kitchen to turn off the stove. The chicken must had been boiled enough. I frowned, did Mom already turned it off? There was no fire and the dial was pointed to the off word, so it must had been shut down already. But I heard it boiling. "How are you, little thing?" The sound made me whip my head to its direction so fast I was sure my brain shifted a little. There, not a couple of feet from me was a guy in a lab coat leaning casually on the side of the sink. Smiling at me. I screamed, duh. Seeing an unknown guy in my kitchen in a lab coat, looking at me like he knew me. Of course I would scream. I did the duck, hold, and cover where I was standing even though a small part of me thought that doing that wouldn't keep me safe at all. The next thing I was aware of was Leib crouched in front of me patting my cheek. "Kat, Lil' sis." He crooned. "Sweety, what happened?" And Dad beside my brother. Mom was behind me, cradled in her arms. So, basically we were all seated on the kitchen floor, and them around me like a shield. "I..." My eyes searched for the man and landed to the empty sink. "There was a man right there." I pointed at the tiled floor across me. Nobody talked. And then there was that bubbling sound again. Pop by pop it returned along with the murmurs. I looked around me, at the ceiling, everywhere, and lastly at the worried gazes of my family. "There was no one with you when I got here." The pops nearly drowned Leib's voice as he got up from his crouch and walked towards the tiny window above the sink. "I," The voices were getting louder, but somehow I couldn't still recognize them. I never thought I could get a double vision even when not crossing my eyes and it was dizzying. Our kitchen shifted, the peach walls morphed to white, the table, island, and chairs disappeared. Everything was white...and sterile. The man from before now stood in front of me, prepping what looked like a big injection through my blurred sight. "This will hurt a bit if not a lot, little T." His joyous, chilling tone was the last I heard before everything was swallowed by white noise and darkness.