Hazardous Goods aatd-1

by John Mackie

  “Oh, it was great. Just like my last visit to the dentist.”

  That brought forth a smile.

  “By the way, what the heck is a divination device? I thought the folks at Sun said it was some kind of dowsing thing. Isn’t that like a fire hose, or something?”

  “Fire hose?”

  A little off base, apparently.

  “Device? Is that what they called it? Well, it could be anything. Cards, runes, Ouija board, crystal ball-.”

  I suspect my cynicism was quite apparent.

  “Hey, I didn’t make this stuff up.”

  “So the Sun Consulting guys were using us to ship something that could be used to tell the future?”

  “Or whether your girlfriend is cheating on you. Where you left your watch that morning. People use them to answer questions, sometimes locate things.”

  That jibed with Helen Findlay’s comments earlier in the week.

  “Hmph. Can you use them for anything?”

  “No, not that I know of. A restricted Class 2 device would be pretty powerful, though. Think of it like accuracy. Prohibited devices are the most accurate. I think Clay said he had seen a set of rune stones once that were supposed to be accurate 99.9 % of the time.”

  “Cool. Great for lotto tickets.”

  “No kidding.”

  The day had just started and I was already behind.

  As if things weren’t bad enough, Jamar was three hours late getting in. By lunch time I felt like I had seen most of Southern Ontario, just trying to keep up.

  I was munching on a sub when Jamar staggered in. Kara followed right behind.

  “Don’t tell me. You lost your shirt at the Casino. No, your girlfriend is pregnant, but she’s not sure whether it’s yours.”

  Sometimes the comments come out before I can stop them.

  “Hey, Donnie.”

  Jamar couldn’t have looked more down if he tried. Dark shadows under his eyes hinted at a sleepless night. Either that, or he had been doing some sparring. With a heavyweight.

  “Hang in there, big guy,” I pulled a chair out for him. “Take a seat and tell Nurse Kara about your problems.”

  She gave me a look that suggested the only person requiring a nurse was going to be me. Jamar slumped in the chair, staring at his lunch bag.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s like I’m that guy who walks around with a rain cloud over his head. I swear, not one good thing has happened in the past two days. Tuesday I get home and my girlfriend announces she’s moving out. Yesterday I crack up my bike on the way to school, damn near kill myself. Last night I spent the night throwing up the sushi I had for lunch. And this morning I bum a ride from my Dad, and he announces he and my mom are divorcing! After 25 years of marriage!”

  For a moment, Kara and I sat silent. Sheesh. That was a serious streak of ugly.

  “You’re just going through a bad stretch. It’ll turn, and everything will be better again.”

  She almost had me convinced, but then I was somewhat susceptible to Kara’s charms.

  Jamar didn’t look as open to supportive commentary.

  “I swear to God, guys — I think it’s this damned ring.”

  “What?” OK. Every day, and in every way, this place was just plain weird. “The ring? The one that lady gave you?”

  “Yeah, man.” He held up his hand and turned the ring on his finger. “It gives me a sick feeling just looking at it. You think maybe she-.”

  He lost me, but Kara seemed to follow his train of thought.

  “Cursed it?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that everything I touch turns to shit.”

  Kara stared at the ring, then stood. “Let me get Professor Irving on the phone. Maybe he has some thoughts.”

  She headed into one of the offices to call Professor Irving, and I turned to Jamar.

  He did look like a mess. Normally quick to smile, his mouth seemed to sag from the strain of the past few days.

  “Why don’t you just take it off?”

  “That’s just it. It’s weird, man. I can’t budge the thing.” He held out his hand and tugged on the ring to show me. It was like the school ring you wore in high school that stayed wedged on because you gained a ton of weight. That’s not a comment on any of the women I saw at my last class reunion or anything. Just saying.

  “Huh. Listen, cheer up, man. It’ll all work out.”

  “Aw, it’s just… my parents. I can’t believe it. My Dad’s like, sixty-two. What the hell is he doing getting a divorce? What’s the point?”

  “You don’t know for sure. Lots of people say they’re breaking up and never do. May just be a phase.”

  “I don’t know, man. My Dad, when he says he’s doing something, he does it.”

  “Well, even if they do divorce, it may still work out.”

  “Man, this is all messed up.” His head sunk down onto his forearms, and I looked down on his shaved head. Not much I could do to help him out. I was the last person to talk about long-term relationships. Never been in one that worked, and my own father didn’t live long enough for me to see him and my mother together.

  “I’ve got Professor Irving on the line. He has a theory.”

  “C’mon big guy. Let’s go see what the Professor has to say.”

  We moved into the office, Kara perching one hip on the desk while Jamar took one of the visitor seats and I stood by the door. After a morning in the veritable driver’s seat, I was happy to be on my feet for a short while.

  “Professor Irving? I have Jamar and Donnie on the line.”

  “Hello! Donnie, welcome to Arcane Transport.”

  “Thanks, Professor. I hope we can meet face-to-face in the near future.”

  “Absolutely. Jamar?”

  “Hey, Sol.” Seemed like Jamar had a first name relationship with Professor Irving. I felt a brief tinge of jealousy. It would be a while yet before I was a part of the gang.

  “Sounds like you’ve had an unpleasant few days.”

  Jamar nodded. I debated speaking up on his behalf, but we weren’t on the stand.

  “Kara described the situation to me. I can’t say for sure, but it’s possible that you’ve been exposed to a curse of some kind.”

  “The ring, you think?” Jamar sat silent, but I figured it was OK to help out.

  “Yes. Listen, can someone describe it to me?”

  “Sure.” I turned, half expecting to have to do it myself. But Jamar spoke up.

  “It’s black. You thought it was onyx?” He glanced up to me, and I nodded. “Donnie thought it might be onyx.”

  “Is it entirely onyx? Or-.”

  “Silver band with an onyx stone.”

  “Men’s wedding band.” Jamar and I glanced at Kara, and both of us pretended to shiver. She displayed one of her slim manicured fingers in response.

  “Are there any motifs or markings on the band?”

  “There’s kind of a Celtic pattern, with some sort of symbol. It looks like a pair of triangles, one on top of the other. Maybe with some curls inside?”

  “Maybe hearts?” I thought Kara’s description was closer.

  “And there are a few words inscribed on the border around the stone.” He held his hand up to the light, the three of us huddled around it like idiots. “Um, let’s see… oh, crap.”

  “What?” I leaned forward, trying to make out the words. “How do you say that? Horror Ubique Animos.” I could see why Jamar was concerned. Not a lot of positive phrases using the word horror. “Is that Latin?”

  “I believe so. In fact, that sounds familiar. Hang on a second.” We heard typing in the background, then he mumbled something that sounded like “maybe in quotes”.

  “Yes, yes. Virgil. From the Aeneid. Horror ubique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent. The first part of the verse means everywhere horror seizes the soul.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “Stay calm, let’s keep examining it. How heavy is it?”


  Jamar twisted the ring on his finger, but made no move to remove it. “Pretty much normal.”

  “Here.” Kara held her hand out, but the Professor’s voice barked on the phone.

  “No!”

  We all sat and stared at the phone. Seemed a little pushy for a prof.

  “Sorry, but if it’s a cursed object, the curse may end up just passing on to anyone who accepts it voluntarily. Doesn’t solve our problem.”

  “Doesn’t matter anyway, Sol. I can’t get the damned thing off.”

  Jamar tugged at it and looked up at Kara and me, his face wrought with frustration.

  “Maybe you just need something to help it slide off. Maybe some margarine, or soap?”

  Kara was already moving to the kitchen when Jamar spoke up. “Nah. Tried it. Tried margarine, soap, WD40, even tried to pull the damned thing off with pliers. All I managed to do was mess up a pair of my pants and cut my damned finger.”

  He held up his hand, palm facing towards us, and I could see a cut on the inside of his knuckle, just below the ring.

  “Sounding more and more like a curse, Jamar. Some of these objects cannot be removed or passed on to anyone else without their consent. Can’t even be removed until the other person has indicated acceptance. When this woman offered the ring to you, you must have been happy to take it from her?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Was she wearing it when you first saw it?”

  “Huh. Yeah. I did think that was a bit weird.”

  “Well, she needed your consent, ill-informed or otherwise. In theory you could do the same — offer it to some stranger and get it off your hands.”

  Jamar shook his head.

  “Naw. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

  “Then we need to come up with a way to eliminate the curse. Maybe you could get the woman to take it back?”

  Jamar’s eyes lit up at that idea, if only for a moment. There was a way to get rid of his problem, and pay the bitch back at the same time. But…

  “There’s no way she’s going to take it back.” At least not in my view.

  “Doesn’t seem very likely, does it. Not sure she would have passed it to you in the first place if she had any moral fiber. So that puts us back at square one. Listen, Jamar, this is going to take some research on my behalf. Can you take a picture of the ring and e-mail it to me?”

  “I’ll do it.” Kara stepped into one of the offices and drew a digital camera from a drawer.

  “E-mail it to me, and I’ll try to look into it tonight. Jamar — I’m sorry I can’t find you a solution right away.”

  “Not your fault, Sol. My fault for being too trusting.”

  “All you can do is keep it simple. Stick to routine, no big plans or outings. Hopefully I can find you an answer before things get any worse.”

  “Thanks, Professor.”

  Kara hung up, and we both stared at Jamar. His head was down on the table again. For once, I was happy not to be in someone else’s shoes.

  CHAPTER 7

  That night I was getting together with two of my former colleagues from TechnoSoft, John Pepper and Jin Park. John went by the name Chili (Chili Pepper — who would have imagined), a carryover from college that had stuck. We were meeting at Chucks, the local greasy spoon we frequented when I was still with the company.

  Unlike most places on the Airport strip, Chucks was a standalone business — separate building, separate parking lot, separate entrance. Land alone was worth a fortune, but the owner rebuffed all offers. He ran a diner. That’s what he did, and it’s all he wanted to do. Besides, the entire property was toxic with fry grease and stale condiments.

  One great thing about Chucks was the brightness of the place. Three sides lined with floor to ceiling windows, the place was awash with natural light. I doubt they spent a dime on light or heat, other than in the evenings or the middle of winter. They most certainly did not spend a cent on air conditioning during the warmer months, resulting in a greenhouse-like sauna effect.

  The glass walls were lined with booths and standalone tables filling the spaces in between. The entire back wall was a long counter, with two cash registers on one side. On the other side of the counter, a group of men who all appeared related slaved away over countless hot plates, fryers, cookers, and every other type of grease-generating device known to man. That might have explained the thin film coating the aforementioned windows. A sign over the cash said “All Breakfast. All Day.”

  I pushed through the door and the accompanying wave of heat. A tide of scents washed over me — fryers that ran full out from dawn to dusk and grills that warmed the meats of every animal outside a zoo.

  Chili and Jin sat by the windows on the East wall, out of the direct line of sunlight and thus a good five degrees cooler than the West wall at this time of day, which seemed to shimmer in the heat. The moment they spotted me, I felt my shoulders relax. Good to see some old friends.

  “So you’re a partner in the business?”

  “Yeah. The original plan was for me to earn my stake in the business over three years, then Clay would retire and I would earn out his half of the business. But now, I’m not sure. If anything, the whole thing may be accelerated. Either way, I end up owning the company.”

  “So you manage the office? Sales?”

  “Yeah. Manage the staff, sales, deal with customer issues that need to be escalated. And I drive a route too.”

  “No kidding? Donnie Elder in a delivery truck?”

  “Yeah. Well, not a regular route. Depends on what the delivery schedule is for the day. Right now, with Clay off work and business hopping, I’m on the road. Welcome to the world of small business.”

  Jin had a bemused look on his face.

  “What?”

  “I just can’t picture it.”

  “What?”

  “Six months ago, you’re sitting in the boardroom, battling it out with the IT guys and the creative goofs at Pathway on the Version 3.0 Campaign. And you gave all of that up to drive a van and manage a five man office?”

  “Jealous?”

  “Shit, yeah.”

  For the next two hours we traded stories about the goings-on at the company since I had left, and also a lot of great memories. We also chatted about Arcane, and my first week on the job.

  “The guy had a gun?”

  “Yeah. Can you believe it?”

  “Shit. What did the cops say?”

  “Well, we didn’t end up reporting it.”

  “Why the hell not? Nah, I take that back. Officer, I was robbed at gunpoint. What did they take? Harry Potter’s wand and a magic lantern.”

  “Harry Potter’s wand was stolen? That’s gotta hurt.” Chili was the perpetual smartass among my group of friends, which is saying a lot, when you consider the company I keep. “Yeah. No cops. Not that we’re doing anything wrong, but it just gets a bit weird.”

  “You should talk to Amy, she’s pretty cool about that stuff.”

  Hm. That was an interesting thought. Jin’s cousin Amy was a police officer in Toronto. Quite attractive too, I seemed to recall. Might not hurt.

  “You don’t think she’d mind?”

  “Nah. You can do it off the record, if you want. Cost you lunch, though. And she eats like a heifer. Why don’t I get her to give you a call?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Yeah,” Chili with that sly grin on his face again, “that’d be great, alright. Donnie-boy’s hoping to get some uniform action. Nurse, check. Stewardess, check. Maid — nah, I’ve been to your place, you don’t have a maid.”

  Like I said. Perpetual smartass.

  Just before we left, Jin handed me a plain white file folder. I glanced inside and chuckled.

  “We had everybody sign it. Never had a chance to say goodbye, so we figured this was the next best thing.”

  “Ha! That’s great. Thanks guys.” I stared down at one of the few mementoes from my days at TechnoSoft. It was a good reminder that it wasn’
t all bad memories. “He still pissed?”

  “Oh yeah. No one can even say your name around the office without him losing it.”

  “Good.”

  We said our goodbyes, and agreed to get together again in a few weeks. When I got to my car, I dropped the file onto the passenger seat and headed over to the hospital for a quick visit with Clay and Harper.

  I had a nice surprise at the hospital when I ran into Kara there. I paused at the door, a little hesitant about adding to the crowd, but Harper waved me in.

  “Hey.” I shook hands with Clay, who sat propped up in bed. His color was back to normal, and he seemed in good spirits. I mouthed “Hi” and gave Kara my best smile.

  “Hey yourself. Kara was just bringing me up to speed on things. Sounds like I’ve left the place in good hands.”

  “Well, Kara can take most of the credit for that. She’s the one keeping us from destroying the place.”

  “Oh, she did that for me, too. It’s always been that way.”

  I took a few minutes to update Clay on my visit with Helen Findlay at Sun, and the drop-in by BOA.

  “These BOA guys — what do you think of them?”

  I had my own significant reservations, but I wasn’t about to share them with Clay yet.

  “Oh, they’ve been around for years. Tend to stay out of our way, but they’ve had some changes at the top in the past year and a half. May see more of them, if they decide to play a more active role. I would cooperate with them, but don’t go out of your way. It’s never been real clear to me where they fit in the overall scheme of things.”

  That jibed with what I had seen and heard.

  “Any other players I should know about? People who may not have our best interests in mind?”

  “Hm.” Clay took a sip of water, glancing at Harper for a moment. “It’s maybe not a bad idea for you to do some reading. Kara, can you pull a few of the reference texts from storage? Also, there are a few file memos, and that history that was written by Charlie Carter.”

  “The author?”

  “Yes. He wrote a book called The History of Occultism in Toronto a few years back. It’s a decent overview of some of the older players, not a bad introduction to some of the basics as well.”

  “Hm.” Charlie Carter. Cool. He was one of my favorite authors. When the Axe Falls was on my top five list of scary reads.