To See Oursel's As Others See Us.....

Doyle called. We agreed to meet early this morning at Alvin Williams Park on the Sewaren Peninsula in Woodbridge. It's a nice, quiet place that early in the morning since it's kinda out of the way. We were to meet in the covered structure closest to the Arthur Kill.

I got there first, or thought I did. I was looking out over the Kill when he came up behind me.
"Just so you know, I've been here about a half an hour, checking out the area, and watching that no one followed you in. How you doin', Denny?" He was grinning. He was dressed casually, but looked liked he'd lost weight.
"I'm good, but I'm sure you know that." We shook hands, and sat on one of the benches, our backs to the Kill.
"Well, we know how you are physically, but I'm talking mentally? You doin' OK?"
"I'm good, Doyle. Really. I know I've been under some stress recently, but it's all over."
"We know about your attempts to contact you local politicians to get some kind of statement for Donate Life Month, and that you haven't been too successful. I gotta admit, we had some concerns, but we didn't do anything because you didn't do anything. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I didn't run crazy with the Flasher, right?" He looked relieved.
"Right. So now we can talk about some other things." He stood up, and looked out over the Kill and I joined him.

"God, I love the water." Hr said. "It's always had a calming effect on me."
Oh? Do you need to be calm right now?"
"No," He smirked, "Just making an observation.....I'm coming back from Delaware."
Just like that.

"When? Did you resolve the situation down there? I mean, Craig's a good guy, but I am more comfortable dealing with you."
"To answer your questions in order...effective immediately, and No. The situation remains unresolved, but we don't think it's in Delaware any more."
"What? I thought that you were down there to recreate this project. I remember, at first, you sounded optimistic. What happened?"
He paused for a long time.

He stood up straight, stretching his back, then looked right at me.
"Denny, do you know the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath?"
"What?...No...Why? Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm dead serious, and I didn't really expect you to know." He paused again, and looked around.

"Our shrinks say that it comes down to "Nature versus Nurture". A psychopath is born that way, but a sociopath develops over time, based on how he's brought up. In either case, they are anti-social people, usually with no regard for rules, although they fit in well. And the psychopath tends towards flamboyance and criminality."
"And this has to do with me, how? Are you telling me that I'm one of those?"
"Yes and no. When we started this project, after you'd already gotten Jimmy's heart, our shrinks evaluated you and came up with a variation. They classified you as a "neo-sociopath". Someone who developed the same anti-social tendencies due to current economic/social/political changes and how they affected you."
"And that was OK with them? They didn't think it would be...oh, I don't know...a drawback or something?" I forgot that sarcasm was sometimes lost on Doyle.
"Not at all. In fact, they thought it would be a beneficial trait, and it certainly seems to have been proven to be. You've done very well with things."
This time, I paused. I walked away a little, trying to get angry with this, but I couldn't find a real reason. After all, I knew what I was doing. I turned back to Doyle.

"And you're telling me this because.......?"
"It didn't work so well in Delaware. You see, Mr. Smith brought in the psych people that evaluated you. Mr. Jones demanded that he be allowed to bring his own people in for the Delaware project. Unfortunately, we didn't know then how badly Mr. Jones' choices would work out."

He didn't need to spell it out. I'd stepped all over Jones' toes with the whole Givings mess.

"So you're saying that Jones' people didn't vet out the Delaware subject properly?"
"No. They did not. In fact, our people now think that the subject was a closeted psychopath waiting for a trigger, and we gave it to him."
"Shit. Really? But,.. wait...you can track him, right?" I had a bad feeling about this.
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
"We lost him. He'd been going on and off our tracking screens for a while, and we thought it was a system's glitch. Now he's just gone, and we don't know how."
"Jeez, Doyle. What do you do now?"
"We wait. And we watch. He was getting sloppy with his Events, but he only has a Type 2 Flasher, so he can't do too much damage in one day. We're on alert. We'll get him."
"OK. So what happens now?"
"In the meantime, I'm back here. We'll continue business as usual. And I'll be working with Mr. Smith to try to do something about the Mr. Jones situation."

He looked at his watch, and turned towards the parking lot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I certainly didn't want to know anything about the Jones situation.

"Take care of yourself, Denny. I'll be in touch."
"You too, Doyle."

He drove away. I stayed in the park, walking around a little, trying to come to grips with things. That's when I saw the lone jogger.

He was on the path that circled the park, and I noticed a large, bushy area up ahead of him, covering the path. I moved diagonally to intercept, the Flasher in my hand. There was no one anywhere near us. We both closed on the bushes. He had headphones on, and his head slightly down watching the path. He didn't see me coming.

Point, press Flash.

He dropped, and I went back to my car, and left the park. I still didn't see anyone around. I drove out of the area, towards Edison. My phone sounded. Confirmed.

I drove out through Avenel, and into Colonia. Along Chain of Hills road, I saw another, single jogger on my right. I slowed, lowering the passenger-side window. Again, the jogger had on headphones and didn't hear me coming. There wasn't another person or car in sight. I came up along side of her.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove on as she slumped to the ground. By the time I got to the Menlo Park Mall, I'd gotten the second confirmation.

It was still pretty early. The only store open was the Barnes & Noble's, and I didn't feel like browsing. As I circled the lot to drive out, I saw this guy doing something in his trunk. I checked my mirrors. No one in sight. I slowed as I passed him, my window still down, and...

Point, press, Flash.

He drooped forward into the trunk. It had brightened up considerably, and I figured that the Flash would be thought to be a reflection, or glare. I headed for home.

Confirm number 3.

I knew what they thought of me, and it didn't matter. I was feeling good. I still did what I did. I knew who I was better then they did, and I was pretty sure, if the time ever came, that I could use that to my advantage.

I guess Robert Burns was right...

"Oh wad some power the giftie gie us...."