Intro-Spector-ive
The Spector family was originally from Spain. After World War 2 began and General Francisco Franco gave a list of all his Jewish citizens to the Nazis, Juan Spector made plans to smuggle himself, his wife Eleanor who originated from Scotland, and their son Rafael out of the country. They made their way to France only to get caught in the Nazi invasion of France. So, they had to make their escape on a cargo freighter heading to New York City.
Juan managed to get a job in the mailroom of SSR. Rafael grew up to become a lawyer. His job transferred him to Chicago where he met his wife. They bore a son in 1960 called Elias.
Elias met Wendy at Northwestern University. She studied art history and Elias was studying to be a rabbi. They married in 1984 and had their first son Marc born on March 9, 1987. Randall was born on April 10, 1991.
Marc was a rebellious, precocious child. He was elated to find out he was having a younger brother. He and Randall got along as well as most brothers do. Randall was a bit of a mama’s boy, which can be expected at a young age. Wendy coddled him and favored him over Marc. Elias loved both his sons equally.
They had a vacation cabin on the outskirts of Chicago where there was a small forest and a cave. Their first and only trip there ended in tragedy in July, 1996.
That flash flood came out of nowhere. It was supposed to be sunny all day, but for some reason, it started to rain hard. Wendy and Elias quickly gathered up Randall’s drawing and their food and rushed inside the cabin.
“I hope the boys make it back okay.” Elias said.
“I dunno. Maybe you should go look for them.” Wendy said. “They said they were going to the cave, right?”
“Yep.” Elias grabbed an umbrella and went out into the rain. He followed the path to the cave occasionally calling out for his boys. The rain slowed down to a drizzle by the time he reached the cave. “Marc? RoRo?”
XX
Marc had no idea why he was so eager to explore the cave despite the fact it was raining, and his mother told him not to. He just felt the need to explore. He didn’t realize it would be so dangerous.
He kept yelling for help and for RoRo, who was screaming and crying for his mother. He heard a splash and RoRo wasn’t screaming anymore.
“…RoRo?” Marc called tentatively. He held onto the cave wall and waded through the waist-deep water until he bumped into what felt like a small body. Marc’s blood ran cold. “No. No, no, no, no. RoRo?” His hands shook as he cradled his brother’s body, which was ice cold. Tears started running down Marc’s face. “I’m sorry, RoRo.” He half dragged, half carried Randall’s body to the mouth of the cave where Elias stood.
Elias’ heart leapt to his throat when he saw Marc dragging Randall out of the cave. He wasn’t breathing. He immediately sank to his knees and started performing CPR on Randall to no avail.
“I’m so sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t know caves flood when it rains.” Marc stammered.
Elias swallowed to keep his emotions in check. He cradled his youngest son’s body close to his chest. “Come on, Marc. Let’s go.”
XX
Upon seeing Randall dead in her husband’s arms, Wendy started sobbing. Elias sent Marc to his room. Wendy screamed and wailed in anguish.
XX
The next day, Marc slowly approached his mother, who was in Randall’s room.
“Mom?” Marc said tentatively.
Wendy slowly stood up and turned to face Marc. “Marc, did you make him go into that cave?”
“No. We both went in.”
“But I told you…very specifically not to.” Wendy said barely controlling her anger.
“I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t know-“
“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” Wendy hissed angrily. “My son is dead because of you. Because of you! This is all…your…fault!”
That was the first time Wendy hit him. Gone was the strict but kind and loving mother he knew. Now there was no love or forgiveness in her eyes. Tears welled in Marc’s eyes, and he ran to his own room.
XXX
A couple of weeks after Randall’s shiva, Marc accepted that apologizing wasn’t going to do any good. His mom wanted Roro back. What if he pretended to be him? He dressed in Randall’s clothes, which were a bit small for him and sat at the table, and drew a picture of his parents and Randall, leaving him out. Wendy walked into the dining room holding a half empty bottle of liquor. Marc jumped up and showed her the drawing.
“Mom, check out my drawing.” Marc said in a voice he hoped sounded like Roro.
Wendy saw right through that. She scoffed and put the bottle down on the table. “Really, Marc? Pretending to be Roro? You hated him that much?”
Marc was surprised. “N-no. I just thought that if I pretended to be him-“
“That I’d love you and all would be forgiven?” Wendy laughed in derision. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.” She punched him so hard, he hit the ground, barely conscious. Then Wendy knelt down and started relentlessly punching him both in the face and the stomach.
Unbeknownst to the two of them, an alter manifested. An alter that would soon call himself Jake Lockley.
XX
Elias knew Wendy was taking Randall’s death hard and he knew she blamed Marc for his death, but he didn’t imagine that Wendy would take it this far. He saw Wendy standing over his son who was unconscious and covered in bruises.
“Wendy…what the hell have you done?” Elias asked, shocked and horrified.
“He brought it on himself.” Wendy said simply.
“Because of Roro? Wendy, come on. You can’t be mad at him forever.” Elias said.
“Watch me.” Wendy said as she took a swig from the bottle.
Elias just sighed, picked up Marc bridal-style, and carried him to his bedroom and laid him on his bed. He went back downstairs to see Wendy tossing the now-empty bottle in the garbage.
“Wendy…you can’t keep doing this. Eventually someone is going to figure out you’re abusing Marc and they’ll report it.” Elias said. “Roro wouldn’t want you to-“
“Well, thanks to Marc, we’ll never know what Roro would want.” Wendy snapped.
Elias sighed deeply. “Wendy, I should have gone with the boys to the cave in the first place. You should blame me.”
“I specifically told him to keep an eye on Roro and I told them not to go into the cave when it rains. He disobeyed me. Twice in one go.” Wendy said stubbornly.
“He is a child. He didn’t know any better.” Elias argued. Wendy just shook her head and looked away. “Okay. Fine. Let’s have another child, then. Would that make you feel better?”
“Oh, so he can get them killed, too?” Wendy rolled her eyes.
“Okay, then we’ll send Marc away to boarding school so you won’t have to deal with him.” Elias suggested.
“We can’t afford it.” Wendy said. “And before you even suggest it, we can’t afford a divorce, alimony, and child support either.”
Elias sighed and nodded. He just walked away to grab a couple of ice packs and headed upstairs. He really hopes that would be the worst thing he’d walk in on. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
XXX
Wendy took every opportunity to taunt Marc or remind him of Roro’s death and his “role” in it. Marc couldn’t enjoy a movie without his mother making snide comments.
Scar kills Mufasa in the Lion King and Kovu is indirectly responsible for his brother’s death in The Lion King 2? “Wow, I guess you relate, don’t you Marc?”
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat- “If only Roro thought to do that to you. Or maybe you would have done that to Roro.”
He tried giving his mother birthday, Hanukkah, and Mother’s Day cards, but Wendy just ripped them up and tossed them aside. When Wendy’s birthday passed without Marc giving her a card, she whaled on him again.
“Why didn’t you get me a birthday card? Roro would have! Why couldn’t you be more like Roro? Why couldn’t you have died instead of Roro?!”
XX
Elias tried to ignore most of the abuse that was going on. He just wanted to pretend that everything was normal. He didn’t want to lose another son. He tried his best to keep Marc happy and safe and to deflect questions and suspicions. When Marc’s teachers would ask if everything was okay at home, he’d respond that everything’s fine and that was the end of it.
XX
Steven was created on Marc’s twelfth birthday. Marc didn’t notice at first. He started smiling at his reflection and saying “Hi.” because it seemed impolite not to. Then he noticed his room was cleaned up, but he didn’t remember cleaning it. His parents certainly wouldn’t have cleaned it. Then he started noticing he was missing time, there were new toys and books he didn’t remember buying. The first clue he got to what was happening to him was a homework assignment in someone else’s handwriting signed by someone named “Steven Grant”. He wracked his brain. There wasn’t a Steven in any of his classes, so who the hell was this “Steven” character? He started panicking. Was he possessed? He looked in the mirror. No…if he was possessed, his eyes would be a different color, right?
He looked up his symptoms on the internet and came across a term called “Dissociative Identity Disorder”- a split-personality disorder which stems from years of abuse in childhood. Marc sighed and leaned back in his chair. That would explain…well, everything. He wanted to meet Steven and talk to him, but he wasn’t sure how. However, Steven’s presence gave him some sense of hope and knowing that he wasn’t alone. And as far as he knew, Steven has no idea what really went on at home.
He was going to keep it that way. At least some part of him won’t have to deal with the hell he was in. Finally, he had a purpose. A way to somehow atone for Roro’s death by taking care of Steven like an older brother.
XX
Marc mostly kept to himself at school. People have tried to approach him and befriend him, but he always pushed him away. He didn’t want to drag anyone into his world of shit. He tried to make his abuse more obvious, but everyone just looked away. No one wanted to open that can of worms.
Elias tried hard to keep Marc happy and safe. They would go on riverboat tours down the Chicago River, to the top of the Willis Tower, and the Naval Pier to ride all the rides all day long. As fun as all of that was, he still resented his father for not doing something about his mother. He let Steven out occasionally to enjoy everything Chicago had to offer.
XX
Steven Grant grew up in Chicago completely unaware of Marc and the hell he was living in. He enjoyed going to school and got pretty good marks if he said so himself. His mother always remembered to leave a card for him every birthday and Hannukkah.
After a few years, Elias noticed something strange going on with Marc. He spoke in three different accents, wore different styles of clothing, started getting into fights at school, but at the same time being on his best behavior. He wondered if he was bipolar. No, that wasn’t it. He also started calling himself two different names other than Marc- Jake and Steven. Still wanting to make things more normal, he just played along. Steven was happier than Marc and let Elias in emotionally. It was almost like having Roro back. However, Steven for some reason didn’t realize how awful Wendy was. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Marc or if he even knew.
XX
After Marc’s seventeenth birthday, he couldn’t take it anymore. Wendy was getting worse and worse, and Steven was starting to get suspicious. He had to get out of there. He packed a duffel bag and his backpack. He stormed downstairs.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Wendy demanded.
“Out. I can’t take it anymore.” Marc said simply.
Wendy scoffed. “Please. You have nowhere to go.”
“I don’t care. Anywhere is better than here.” Marc said simply. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind him.
Elias glanced at Wendy, who just sat back down drinking her wine, exhaled sharply, and ran out after Marc.
“Marc, son, please come inside. She will get help.” Elias practically begged. “We will fix this!”
“You’re supposed to fix this. I mean…why haven’t you?!” Marc wheeled around and swallowed the lump rising in his throat.
Elias reached out for him, but Marc held a hand up to stop him. “I cannot lose another son. Please.”
Marc felt a tear run down his face. He took a shuddered breath and shook his head. As much as he hated to admit it, he would miss his father. “I’m sorry. But I can’t stay there as long as she’s there.”
XXX
Marc wandered around sleeping in homeless shelters and the YMCA despite not being Christian. He had dropped out of school and decided to join the military. They provided food, shelter, benefits, and a purpose in life.
XXX
Jake Lockley tried his best to stay hidden from Marc and Steven. Every time he fronted, he was beaten up by that demon Marc and Steven call their mother. There were a few times he fronted for more than just a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out that apparently, he has a split personality and shared a body with Marc and Steven. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt protective over the two of them.
He liked listening to music, playing violent video games, and cars. The first time he drove, he felt free. Driving also helped clear his head and calm down.
When Marc joined the marines, Jake wanted to cheer him on. Finally, he left that hellhole!
XXX
So far, the training camp felt different but safer than being at home. Sergeant Ramos walked slowly between the new recruits standing at the end of their bunks.
“All right, listen up, you degenerates! You will spend the next three months training for the Marine Corps. Breakfast is at 0600 hours sharp. Training begins at 0800, continues until 1200, then lunch. Afternoon training goes from 1300 hours to 1700 hours. Dinner at 1730. Lights out at 2200. Anyone who shows up late, stays later. Any of you seen Full Metal Jacket?” Ramos waited for their response. Everyone just looked confused at the random question. “I asked you a question!”
There was a mix of “Sir, yes, sir!” and “Sir, no, sir!”.
“Seargent Hartman from that movie is a cuddly teddy bear compared to me. I’m not here to coddle you like your mother did back home. I don’t want anyone crying for their mommies.” Ramos stood in front of Marc. “What’s your name, private?”
“Sir, Marc Spector, sir!” Marc replied.
“Are you a mama’s boy, Private Spector?” Ramos asked.
“Sir, absolutely not, sir!” Marc said that with such ferocity that Ramos stared into his eyes as though trying to read them.
“Good.” Ramos replied and turned away. “At least one of you assholes isn’t. Now…I want to see spotless bunks when you head off for dinner, and don’t you dare bring food back into the barracks. IS THAT CLEAR?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Everyone chorused.
The next three months went smoothly. Marc was a little worried that Steven would front in the middle of a training exercise, but miraculously, he didn’t. He tried engaging in friendly conversation and talking to people more, but, thanks to his…upbringing, he was still socially awkward.
XXX
Marc and some of his fellow recruits were deployed in Afghanistan. The war on terror was still raging after three years. Both Marc and Jake fronted during their deployment. Marc managed to pull some heroic acts such as pulling two soldiers out of a burning truck and kicking a live grenade back towards the enemy.
Three years after fighting in a war really took its’ toll on Marc. He found himself wandering around in a fugue state somewhere in a town called Tikrit, Iraq; a little over one hundred miles north of Baghdad. After being interviewed by various military officers and the attorney general, he was deemed mentally unfit for service and was sent home and sent to Putnam Medical Facility in Chicago.
Marc didn’t mind it much. Strange as it seems, the mental hospital was the first place Marc really felt safe. Oh, sure, there was the odd violent patient, patients that would strip naked and smear their shit along the walls, and once Marc woke up to a patient sitting on top of him, his face an inch from his asking what time he was born and what day. He threw the patient off just as a couple of orderlies walked in.
Marc’s favorite spot was the shiny, reflective wall outside the common area. He could “see” Steven and imagine what his life is like.
After a year, he was deemed well enough to be discharged. He didn’t want to return to his parents’ house, so he moved into a homeless shelter. He tried looking for a job, but apparently no one likes dishonorably discharged military vets. After a few months, he ran into his old C.O. Raoul Bushman.
“Spector?!” Bushman exclaimed when he saw him. He chuckled. “Well, small world. How you doing, kid?”
“Okay.” Marc smiled and nodded. “You?”
“Oh, pretty good. You find a job yet?” Bushman asked.
Marc sighed. “No. There’s not a lot of options for a dishonorably discharged soldier.”
“Oh. You know, I’m putting together a work-for-hire team.” Bushman said. “It’s dirty and dangerous work, but it pays well.”
“’Work-for-hire’? Sounds like a mercenary.” Marc folded his arms.
“It is.” Bushman said simply. “Like you said, you don’t have a lot of options.”
Marc thought about it. He hated the idea of killing people for money, but, well… what else can he do? Definitely not give his parents the satisfaction of him crawling back to them with his tail between his legs.
“Ehh, sure. Why not?” Marc shrugged. “I’m in.”
Bushman grinned wickedly and shook his hand. Marc tried to ignore the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.
I have a bad feeling about this. Marc thought.