Blown for Good - Marc Morgan Headley [160]
I know if I do not hang up that the crying will just get worse and worse. I am already outside in the snow talking on the phone and crying my eyes out. I have to take a few minutes before I can go back inside. I have just hung up on the best thing that ever happened to me in the worst place I had ever been. The contrasts between the two are enormous, but neither cancelled the other out. I have been married to Claire for thirteen years. That is a long time to know someone and be in love. As much emotional torture as I endured while at the Int Base, Claire almost made it tolerable. Almost was not enough anymore. As much as I love Claire, we could never have the family we wanted or be truly happy in that hellhole. I really believe that. I am not sure how I will ever love another after Claire, but no matter what, I know that I will have to suck it up and stick it out.
I cry myself to sleep that night thinking about all the times Claire and I had together.
I have been working and doing my thing for a few weeks now. I have sold off my Nextel phone and have no connection with the Int Base. They do not know where I am and they have no way to contact me. My sister has stopped calling my dad and as far as I can tell, they have given up on finding me. Good. I am just starting to get over the whole thing and becoming accustomed to a normal life on the outside.
I am getting to know my way around town and am getting new computer clients on a regular basis. I even have some businesses that are going to have me come out once a month and service all the computers they have at their facilities.
Granted, I do not have much to cover in terms of food and rent since I am depending on my dad for that, but I know that if I keep going, I will be able to live on my own with no problem whatsoever.
One day I get an email from an address I do not recognize. It is Claire’s sister, Becky! The message reads:
“I have a new phone number. Call me at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow! I love you! Claire”
Somehow Claire has managed to remember my old hotmail address that I had. I had rarely used it at the base as that was strictly prohibited, but somehow she remembered it and has managed to get her sister to send me that message! If she is now going below the radar to contact me, I know that there is a chance that she is not being listened in on or directed by RTC or Security to do so.
I cannot sleep that night. I call at 6:00 a.m. LA time. I block my number from showing in case it is a trap from RTC or Security Gold. She answers.
“Marc?” Claire says.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“I want to come with you!”
“What? How are you going to do that? You know that if you come out here, they are going to declare you an SP and you will never be able to see your family again.” I tell her this while my mind is racing, imagining what could happen if she did get out of there.
“I know that, but maybe that does not have to happen,” she says. “After I last spoke to you, they switched out my phone so you would not have the number.
The phone has been sitting in the main booth in case you call it. Did you call it?” she asks.
“No, I told you I got rid of my other phone and deleted all the numbers in it.” If they tried calling me on my old phone, they probably got some 12-year-old kid in Indiana who got the phone for his birthday from his dad! I sold it to some guy on Ebay that was looking for a gift for his kid.” I tell her, laughing at the thought of someone from RTC talking to some kid about where I was and who he got the phone from.
I am pretty sure that they are not going to let someone who worked in RTC for almost a decade under Dave Miscavige walk out of there and not make a fuss about it. I know that springing her out of there will be tricky as hell.
“Well,” Claire continues, “I am coming. I have decided that I am not going to be able to stay here without