by S. R. Booth
Sarah put her spoon down, although she’d barely touched her stew. “You know, I found so many websites about that stuff today, I didn’t even begin to go through all of them. How do we know this isn’t just something that was online somewhere that someone printed off?”
“It’s on Scinegue letterhead,” Billy reminded her.
“So?” Sarah asked, her voice rising in excitement, a spark of hope in her eyes. “Someone could have just grabbed a piece of paper and stuck it in a printer to print out something they were interested in for whatever reason.”
“I guess,” Billy replied, clearly considering that idea. “I don’t see why that couldn’t have happened. Someone sees something they want to look at more closely, grabs the nearest piece of paper to print it on.” He shrugged. “It could happen.”
“So what do we do now? Forget that we went off the deep-end, probably over nothing, and just go on like everything is normal?”
Billy looked across the table at Sarah with a raised brow. “You know things at work are still pretty strange even if they have nothing to do with this eugenics stuff.”
“Ugh,” Sarah slouched down in her chair and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “I forgot about the Scinegue/eugenics connection. There’s no way it’s a coincidence that their name is eugenics spelled backwards. They must have some connection to all of this.”
“Okay, so maybe they do. That still doesn’t mean the things on that paper are in the works. Or if they are, it doesn’t mean that Scinegue is involved in it. If they are studying eugenics, it would be very likely for someone at the company to print off other people’s opinions on it.” Billy finished his last bite of stew and motioned towards Sarah’s half empty bowl. “Are you finished?”
Sarah nodded and he gathered their dishes and took them to the kitchen. Sarah followed him, and they fell into their normal routine. This time with Billy washing, Sarah drying and putting everything away, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
Sarah was the first to break the silence. “Why do you think it is that no one really knows what Scinegue does? Usually a powerful company like that has articles written about them in the paper, or news clips on TV about the great—or terrible—things they’re doing.”
“Or,” Billy picked up the thread of her thought, “someone knows someone who works there, and they get the whole scoop and pass it on to everyone they know. Nothing is ever kept completely secret. Funny though,” Billy continued, “I actually do work for the company, and I don’t know anything about what goes on there. Today was the first day I’ve ever even been in the main building. I’m not sure how they’re able to keep what they do so secretive.”
With the kitchen tidy and sparkling clean as they both preferred it, they went out back to spend some time in their small garden. It was something they both really enjoyed, and weeds seemed to pop up daily. They also tried to keep an eye out for any pests so they could eradicate them before they had a chance to take over.
Sarah filled her large teal watering can from the hose attached to the faucet at the back of the house, then walked around giving each potted plant a drink while casting occasional glances at Billy. He was squatting between rows of beets and radishes pulling the few weeds that had appeared overnight with more vengeance than usual. The normalcy of their evening routine soon calmed their nerves and made the madness they had been talking about seem impossible.
As the sun settled lower in the sky, they finished their work and sat hand in hand in the large swing on their small back porch, both pushing gently with their feet to keep the swing in motion. Pleasantly fatigued, they enjoyed the beautiful sunset and cool breeze.
“So, are we over-exaggerating the situation?” Sarah asked, turning towards Billy so she could see his expression.
“Maybe,” he paused, considering. “There are so many things that are strange about the job, though. Like my salary. I grew up with my dad’s favorite expression always ringing in my ears: ‘If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.’ I make an awful lot of money for what I do. I’ve wanted to write it off as luck, but maybe people are overpaid there to buy their silence. No one wants to rock the boat and risk losing a large, easy salary.”
“I know,” Sarah studied her shoe as she gave the swing another push. “I’ve wondered over and over why they hired you as a trash collector to start with. I know you did well on the tests at the job fair. No offense, but I just don’t see that the job you’re doing requires a super high IQ.”
“I don’t know either. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a little embarrassed when they offered me the job. I know that sounds pretty prideful. I just expected to qualify for something that would require me to do a little more thinking.”
Sarah hid a small smile, having been fully aware of his surprise at the job he was offered although he’d tried hard to hide it. “I’ve also wondered why they pay you so much,” she added, “but it’s true they are paying you not only for the job, but also for your discretion.”
Billy snorted, “Yeah, like there is a lot to be discreet about.” He lowered his voice comically. “Yes, the big brick house on the left had three bags of trash today instead of their usual two. If word gets out there will be an uproar.”
“Ha-ha,” Sarah replied, amused by Billy’s theatrics. “Those rich people like their privacy, and yeah, maybe to them, how many bags of trash they have is a big deal.”
“Maybe,” Billy answered with a shrug. “I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to believe.”
They sat rocking peacefully for a few minutes, the gentle breeze fluttering Sarah’s hair against Billy’s cheek, trailing the warm scent of vanilla that always accompanied her. The calmness of the evening was a contrast to the thoughts swirling through their minds.
Sarah again broke the silence. “Are you sorry I read that paper?”
“Sure I’m sorry! I’m sorry I ever stuck it in my pocket. Maybe it happened for a reason, though. Whether there’s anything sinister going on or not, I want to know. Don’t you?”
He looked down at her. “It would be easier just to think life is peachy, and everyone is looking out for our best interests, but that’s not necessarily the case. I don’t want to just follow along blindly, being led wherever someone wants me led.”
“No...” Sarah answered slowly. “I don’t want to be unknowingly led around either, but what do you think we should do?”
Billy shrugged. “Unless I’m prepared to resign right now—which I’m not—our only viable option is to go forward as if everything is normal and we never saw that memo. We just need to really keep our eyes and ears open and see what else we can learn.”
She nodded and leaned into him, watching the sky slowly fade to gray as the sun sank beyond the horizon, contemplating all they’d learned. The rhythmic squeak from the swing as they pushed it back and forth, and the distant sound of their neighbor’s chickens settling in for the night were the only noises disturbing the calm evening.
Chapter 5
Billy went to work early and made a point of parking in the general area where Ben usually parked. He and Sarah had decided the night before that the first thing Billy should do was talk to Ben about what happened the day before. See if management had given him any more information than they gave Billy.
Ben’s truck wasn’t there yet, so Billy slouched down in his seat and pulled his cap lower on his forehead. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to give the appearance of catching a few more minutes of rest before starting his day in case anyone noticed him sitting there. But he was doing anything but resting. He needed to talk to Ben.
His eyes were in constant motion as he scanned the parking lot in case Ben parked somewhere else, and his heart thudded in his chest. “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he repeated to himself in frustration. He’d worked here for several months. This was just another day like every other day he’d come to work. There was no reason for him to be so stressed.
In the light of day,
it was easy to find an answer for every strange thing he and Sarah talked about the night before. This was just a company like any other. He felt sure they weren’t perfect, but sinister? Probably not.
Billy checked the time. Five minutes until seven. He would have to rush to get signed in and to the truck by seven. Still no sign of Ben. Maybe he’d missed him and Ben was already at the truck.
Sliding out of his pickup, Billy tossed his cap onto the cracked dash then jogged over to sign in on the clipboard at the guardhouse by the side of the main building. He rushed from there to the back where the trucks were lined up, sparkling clean, and ready for a new day.
He could see a reflection of someone in the driver’s seat of his truck through the side mirror, so he jogged the last few feet and clambered in wondering how Ben had slipped by him. “Hey, Ben!” he called as he settled into his seat. “What happened yesterday? I thought...” His next sentence trailed off as he realized the driver facing him wasn’t Ben, but a younger guy with short, sandy-blond hair.
“Who are you? And where is Ben?” Billy demanded, looking around as if expecting to find Ben hiding in the cab.
“William Roth?” the stranger asked.
“Yes,” Billy answered slowly.
“I’m Michael Kurt. I don’t know who or where Ben is, but what I do know is if I don’t get this truck moving in about two seconds, I’m going to be late on my very first day. And from what I understand, they run a very tight ship around here.” Without waiting for a reply, Michael started the large truck, and with both hands on the wheel, headed for their first neighborhood.
Billy, finally able to tear his gaze from the new guy, stared unseeingly out the front windshield. The words Ben told him when he’d talked about people disappearing ran through his mind over and over, “I like you Kid, but if you disappear, I won’t come looking for you. Everyone is on their own.” Billy watched cattle grazing peacefully in the fields as they drove past, a direct contrast to the anxiety that filled him. He knew instinctually that he would be looking for Ben.
Maybe Ben got a promotion, Billy thought suddenly, straightening in his seat and grasping hopefully at the idea. Ben had been here a long time, he reasoned. It wasn’t fair for him to have to work with newbies like Billy who made mistakes.
Or maybe Ben was reprimanded yesterday and had just quit, not willing to put up with such stringent rules. Seven years was an awfully long time to deal with the perfection required of their job.
Billy ran through scenario after scenario trying to find one that convinced him that Ben’s absence had nothing to do with the events of the past few days. He slumped back in the seat. Considering the mystery he was uncovering that surrounded the job, none of the scenarios really held up.
Billy leaned over from his side of the truck and flashed his credentials to the guard at the gate of their first neighborhood. The truck was admitted and Billy jumped out when they rolled to a stop at the first house. He mechanically emptied one container after another into the back of the shiny truck, while his mind raced over the new mystery of Ben’s disappearance.
Before he even realized it, they were in Scinegue, and his day was almost over. Lift and throw, lift and throw. He wasn’t even tempted to sneak peeks at the majestic houses surrounding him, just lift and throw and wonder where Ben was.
The various scenarios playing themselves out in his mind throughout the day had finally worked him up to the point that he decided maybe he should call the police to report a missing person, even though he wasn’t sure if Ben was missing. That way they would be able to get a head start looking for him. At the very least he could ask someone at the office about him.
He lifted a white plastic garbage bag and noticed a paper taped to the side. He did a double take when he saw his name printed on it: William Roth.
Glancing around he realized he was at the same house where the bag of trash had torn and all of his troubles had started. Another cold chill coursed through him. He was tempted to throw the whole bag, note and all, into the truck. He certainly didn’t need any more trouble. At the last second, he snatched the taped piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket before clearing the rest of the trash.
His face felt flushed, and his heart beat fast. He was scared to look around to make sure no one saw him grab the paper, but he was more scared not to look. He took a quick, but thorough, look at the houses around him. Not seeing anyone, he jumped up on the left side of the truck so he could get a glimpse of the new driver.
Michael looked back to see if he was ready, then pulled up to the next house. Surely if he’d noticed Billy cramming the note in his pocket he would be acting funny or really staring at him hard. But he seemed fine, and Billy didn’t think there was any way he could have been seen.
Somehow he finished his route with the note in his pocket monopolizing all other thoughts and enough adrenaline spiking through his system to leave him jittery. He imagined he could hear the paper crinkle with his every move and jumped at each sound, sure he was about to be confronted and searched. Driving back through the gatehouse past the guards, he ducked his head and averted his eyes, positive they would sense his guilt and stop the truck, but they waved it through as usual.
Thankfully, Michael didn’t try to make small talk. Billy knew he wouldn’t have been able to respond intelligently. They rode in silence back to the office where he managed to sign out with a shaky hand, tell Michael it was nice to meet him, and climb into his own truck as if it were just a normal day.
On the drive home he remembered he had planned to ask someone in the office what they knew about Ben being replaced. He would have to ask tomorrow. Right now all he could think about was what could be in that note. He wanted to pull over and read it right away, but decided to wait until he got home so he could read it with Sarah. They were in this—whatever ‘this’ was—together.
Sarah heard him calling her as soon as he got home. “I’m back here,” she replied from their bedroom where she had spread a load of clean clothes on the bed to fold.
“You’ll never believe this.” Billy raced into the bedroom, and pulled the handwritten note from his pocket. Pushing towels aside, he sat on the edge of the bed. Sarah was about to reprimand him for disheveling the laundry she just folded, but one look at his face, and she was pushing folded clothes aside to sit next to him.
“What is that?” she asked, focusing on the note as he unfolded it.
“It’s addressed to me. William Roth.” He showed her the front and looked up at her almost breathless in his excitement. “It was taped to the side of a trash bag at the same house where I got that other paper. I haven’t read it yet. I was waiting to look at it with you.”
Their eyes met and held in a combination of excitement and dread before Billy held up the paper so Sarah could read it with him.
Mr. Roth, it began.
I hope you had a chance to read something from the papers that spilled from my trash. I’m sorry for the inconvenience that torn bag caused you, and am sure you incurred some form of reprimand because of it, but it was imperative that I try to get some information to you. If you did not read anything this note will be confusing. Nonetheless, you may be our only hope.
Sarah released a deep breath. “What do you have to do with any of this?”
“I don’t know. Let’s keep reading.”
Billy did a rapid scan over the rest of the note with Sarah looking over his shoulder.
Sarah pointed to a group of numbers and letters at the bottom of the page. “That must be another code.” She leaned closer to get a better look. “It’s different from the first one, though. I wonder if we can figure it out.”
“Listen to the rest of this first.”
I’m sorry to draw you into this. However, you have been watched for a long time now. Myself and the few others who feel about this as I do believe you have been chosen to help us. May God be with you and with us all. Go–
Sarah grabbed the note mid-sentence.
“L
et me take this to the computer and see if the Code Breaker will work on it,” Sarah called over her shoulder, already half-way down the hall with the note in hand.
Billy watched her leave but stayed where he was. There must be something to the information Sarah decoded yesterday. For someone in Scinegue to know the name of their trash collector was shocking to Billy. For that someone to leave him a note taped to a trash bag was crazy. And also a pretty big risk.
He could have called in sick today, or the new guy could have jumped down to help the day go faster by throwing a few bags into the truck and could have easily seen the note. Billy could have even overlooked it. It was luck as much as anything that let that piece of paper catch his eye. Why would someone, especially someone living in Scinegue who was supposedly the best of the best in the whole world, take a chance on sticking a note on a garbage bag?
He caught up with Sarah in their mini home office. She was busy typing, and he put his hands on the back of her chair and leaned close trying to see if she had come up with any answers. His mind was still on the mystery of why someone so smart would take a chance on leaving a note on a trash bag as a way to contact him. And why on earth they would want to contact him in the first place.
“It’s not working in the program I used yesterday,” Sarah told him with a shake of her head, still tapping keys. “It looks like there is a pattern in here. I’m just not sure what it means. I’m going to search the web for some more code tips and see if anything looks like this.”
Billy concentrated on the letters and numbers that appeared to randomly fill the bottom section of his note. The more he studied it, the more certain letters seemed to pop out at him. He pulled up a chair beside Sarah and grabbed a notebook and pen off of the antique desk that had once belonged to his great-granddad. It was one of the only extravagances he and Sarah had in their simple home.
