“That was entirely your decision. All I care about is your health.” She looked at me for a few seconds as though to ask me a question then she smiled and went back to work. I left and Jessie closed the door. I noticed that she didn’t lock it, not that I would ever dream of intruding. Hearing the water in the shower, I turned and walked into my office to check the results of my search.

My computers were so powerful and so fast that they could scan millions of birth and death notices in a single second. It might take another second to compare them in search of a match. I had designed the program to begin searching births in the southern states and the deaths in the mid-west. After exhausting those it would automatically shift areas, concentrating wherever possible on pairs that were geographically different. The program had already identified 86 pairs. I had never realized that there were so many cases in which children died shortly after being born.

First I printed out the highlights—date of birth, place, date of death, and place. I automatically rejected any in which both places were identical, assuming that people would know the family and identify their tragedy if I made an inquiry regarding the child. That removed more than ninety percent of the pairings. I now had exactly seven examples to investigate. I eliminated another two almost immediately. In one the father was a mayor whose two-month old daughter had died on vacation. In another one parent was a relatively well-known entertainer. It was the third in which I thought we hit pay dirt. I couldn’t wait to share it with Jessie.

She called me from the bathroom so I left the data for later. I found her seated on the stool, the towel wrapped tightly around her slender body. I parted her hair with the comb and began a methodical combing that I hoped would cover every hair on her head. Whereas I had uncovered roughly a hundred nits last night, this morning I found only three. More importantly, I didn’t see even one live louse.

I was about a minute into the combing when I remembered to share my news. “I think I’ve found the perfect new identity for you. The child—Jennifer Marie Townsend—was born on August 4th, 1992. There was a news story from the local newspaper in Whitehead, Tennessee that the family was driving north on I-65 to Chicago where the father was going to accept a new job when mom began to give birth. They pulled off the interstate when they saw a hospital sign, stopping at the emergency room of the nearby Marshall Medical Center. Jennifer was born and her birth is registered there in the Marshall County records. They stayed there for three days before continuing north, again on I-65 en-route to Chicago. Unfortunately, they never made it. A day later they pulled off I-90 near Hammond, Indiana. According to witnesses, Mr. Townsend attempted a right on red from the exit ramp when his car was struck by a tractor-trailer doing 55 with the light. Either he was distracted or something, but all three in the family were killed when the car broke apart and flew almost fifty feet through the air.

Apparently, there was an extensive police investigation, but they never found any relatives to claim the bodies so the company the father was going to work for paid for cremations. The ashes were never claimed and were disposed of by the crematory. It’s a sad story, but perfect for you. That the death was in another state means there is unlikely to be any tie-in between the agencies.”

“I almost feel guilty taking her identity.”

“Don’t. Why don’t you look at it as being a second chance for her…and for you, too? It’s the only thing I can think of to throw your stepfather off your trail permanently.” She gave me a coy smile and nodded.

I lent her one of my college sweatshirts and we walked together to the garage for a ride down to the nearest big shopping mall. She needed a warm jacket badly and we hadn’t found anything in Walmart last night. Looking down at her chest she asked, “MIT?”

“Yeah, I was a grad student there. Having a PhD. is almost a requirement in the software development field unless you’re under eighteen and a genius.”

“I thought you were a genius.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but I was eighteen when I started my undergrad studies. I was already too old when I decided this was what I wanted to do.”

“I hesitate to ask where you went to college.”

“Then don’t; let’s get into the car and get you a jacket. That’s a bit more of a priority than my personal history.” She shrugged her shoulders and I drove down to Myrtle Beach.

The Myrtle Beach Mall in northern Myrtle Beach has JC Penney, Belk, and Bass Pro Shops which actually had quite an extensive assortment of clothing for both men and women. I liked BPS so we went there first. We had just entered the ladies department when I spied several jackets.
Unfortunately, they were more suitable for spring or fall, but there were several others nearby. Jessie tried on a few before picking out a down-filled jacket by Columbia. Rather than pay I led her to the back of the store where we found the large salt water aquarium. The store was almost deserted so we sat on a nearby bench to watch the fish.

“I never would have guessed,” Jessie said just above a whisper.

“Yeah, there are a lot of things on display—bears and deer over on the right in the hunting department and loads of deep water fish replicas up by the ceiling in the fishing department.”

She looked right first and then at the fish models. “Wow!”

“If you like these I think you’ll love Original Benjamin’s.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you like seafood?”

“Yeah–when I can actually get it.”

“Original Benjamin’s is a big seafood buffet restaurant just down the road in Restaurant Row. There’s a huge model of the Queen Elizabeth in the entry and the restaurant is decorated like a museum.
The food is pretty good and it’s all-you-can-eat—right up your alley”. She gave my arm a playful punch before I continued. “The crab legs alone are worth the price. Let’s try it tomorrow. I’ll cook up a steak tonight. We can have hot dogs for lunch if you like.”

“Three meals a day; I don’t believe it.”

“It’s the least I can do. How could I save you from the cold and allow you to starve? That wouldn’t be much help, would it?” I looked over to her and received a shy smile for my efforts.

After charging the purchase we detoured to customer service where I was able to cut the tags from Jessie’s jacket. She held her arms out and I slipped it onto her shoulders. She smiled again and we were on our way home.

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