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Charade
Thirty three

Thirty three

Looking at her husband's arm as the family members argued, Carol could not believe it; this was acting. The bandage sunk into the wound unlike any fake wound, the wraps bunching in the grove of flesh. There was no blood, cauterized as John had said by the weapon.

Bob seemed brusque, pushing away her attempts to make him comfortable, and ignored her concern. It was as if the man she had married had, in a few seconds, become someone else, as if he had truly become the character of Bob MacDonal.

They had laughed about the type of man Bob was going to portray in this drama, about the character's inability to break from the rigid stance that typified his life and his lack of emotion beyond anger. The casting people could not have picked a more opposite pair to portray the parents of this family. The transformation from loving couple to distinctly a troubled pair living in the same house was almost a challenge. It was part of the reason they joined this job.

Bob's normally smooth face contorted into a mask of rage as he shouted at Jim and Ian, his eyes afire with a hidden fanaticism.

She backed away from the man she had known for decades. Was this just a performance? Carol had never seen him play so convincingly. It was as if he truly believed he was Bob MacDonal.

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With she looked at the actors in the room and saw the same depth of character in their acting.

Chills ran up her back and arms as she began to understand and fear what she was seeing.

She leaned forward, close to her husband's ear, and whispered. "What did you really see?"

His head whipped around, his eyes boring into her, dangerously close to losing control of his anger. "Listen, idiot. We saw aliens."

Ian, John, and Guy were opening the front door to a play of light streaming into the windows. Marie was catching the argument on tape. The other women were trying to stop their husbands from leaving the house. Carol saw it all, but was only truly aware of the hatred in her husband's eyes and voice. Carol had to reach reality one more time, no matter how frightened she was of his reaction. She knew the reaction typical of Bob MacDonal was abuse. She had to know if he was acting a part in this drama or if he thought it was really happening.

"Did Turner tell you to do this?"

His eyes seemed to soften, a battle taking place in his mind while delusion wrestled reality, then his eyes hardened and he beat Carol to the floor with a blow to the face.

"Who's he, your lover?" it was the voice of an animal. "Do something useful for a change and get some ice for my arm."

Carol stood on shaking legs and brushed phantom dust from her dress, watching her husband with brimming eyes. The man she had known and loved was gone and in his place was a person she could not trust.

Gunshots snapped her attention to the front of the house.