The Vivisectionist

by Hamill, Ike

  “Looks sturdy enough to me,” said Ben. He climbed the rickety lattice-work that ran up the overhang’s support.

  “Jeez, be careful,” said Jack.

  Ben paused—“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He crested the top of the porch-roof and turned to look back over. “It’s sturdy—come up.”

  Stephen and Jack deliberated and Ben disappeared. When the other two boys had gathered their nerve and made it up, Ben was studying a small hole in a clapboard.

  “It comes out here,” said Ben. He waved his hand in front of the hole and angled it so Jack and Stephen could see the red dot on his hand.

  “Man, that thing goes a long way, doesn’t it?” asked Stephen.

  “Who’s got the smallest flashlight?” asked Ben. “I don’t want to ruin my night-vision.”

  Jack produced a key-chain light and they clustered around the hole while Ben illuminated the wall. The red beam danced on Stephen’s chest as he breathed in and out.

  “There’s a line,” said Ben.

  A faint gray line descended from the laser hole an pointed straight down. They had to get their faces within a foot of the wall to trace its progress. The arrow ended five clapboards below the hole.

  “Check it out—it’s only this wide,” said Jack. He pointed left and right, showing his friends that the arrow terminated on a clapboard that had end-seams only sixteen inches apart. “It’s a really small piece.”

  Stephen felt the seams of the clapboard and then pressed on the center. It moved slightly. He tried the corners—the board seemed loose, but stayed put. Finally, he pressed hard on the bottom-center of the board and the three boys heard a loud click.

  “It’s a latch!” exclaimed Stephen. As he removed his hand, the bottom of the clapboard came loose and then dropped off.

  The boys had found a four-inch-tall, sixteen-inch-wide hole in the side of the building.

  “Holy fuck,” breathed Ben. “What’s in there?”

  Jack bent down to look in the hole. He had to get down on his belly—the hole was just above the surface of the porch roof on which they crouched.

  “Give me the light back,” said Jack. Ben handed it down to his upturned hand.

  Jack moved with the measured pace of someone defusing a bomb. He swept the light from side to side and focused it back to the middle of the hatch.

  “Okay,” he began. “There’s a button and an envelope.”

  Ben and Stephen knelt down to look over Jack’s shoulders.

  “Let’s see what’s in the envelope,” said Stephen.

  “What if it’s a trap or something?” asked Jack.

  “Trap? It’s a letter in a hole,” said Stephen. “Don’t be so paranoid.”

  “I don’t see anything attached to it,” said Ben. “Just move it a little.”

  “Okay,” said Jack, and he put his hand near the hole. He took a deep breath and let it out.

  Stephen whispered: “The suspense is killing me.”

  “Shhhh!” ordered Jack.

  The hatch in front of Jack was extremely simple. Framed in old wood, it was unadorned and dusty. The wood, dark with age, carried stains and drip-marks. Just beyond the envelope, a black button—bigger than a doorbell—was screwed into the back wall of the hatch. Two coiled wires led from the left side of the button to a small hole in the top of the hatch.

  His fingers stiff, Jack nudged the envelope a half inch. It moved easily. He withdrew his hand about an inch and then moved his fingers forward. This time he brushed the envelop back towards himself.

  “This is just weird—why would there be a letter in this hatch, up on a porch roof, under a laser?” asked Jack. “Doesn’t that just seem like a bad thing to be messing with?”

  Neither Ben nor Stephen answered, they just waited. Jack reached in quickly and pulled out the envelope.

  “Cool—now open it,” said Stephen.

  “Let’s get out of here—we can open it back at the house,” said Ben.

  “Yeah, I like that idea better,” agreed Jack.

  “Okay, let me get this back on,” Stephen acquiesced. He fumbled the hatch’s cover—the clapboard—back into place. He tried several times before he got it to latch. Satisfied, they made their way back down to the ground. The boys retraced their steps through the drainage gully and walked fast. The trip out had taken them almost thirty minutes, but they made it back in fifteen.

  **********

  Jack stashed their wet clothes in a plastic bag and the boys gathered in their pillow fort with a flashlight and the envelope. Ben examined it carefully: it was sealed and yellowed, and showed a history of faint wrinkles.

  “Should we rip it?” asked Jack. “Maybe we should steam it open.”

  “What, are going to put it back?” asked Stephen.

  “Too much thinking,” said Ben. He slipped his finger under one corner of the flap and tore down the side. He squeezed it open and peered in. Satisfied it contained papers, Ben slid the contents of the envelope down onto the sleeping bag.

  They boys saw several hundred-dollar bills and a folded sheet of paper drop out of the envelope.

  “Wow,” said Jack. He picked up one of the bills. “Series 1978. That’s almost as old as my dad.”

  Stephen counted the rest of the bills—“Five, six, seven-hundred. Wow, what are you going to do with your cut?”

  Jack laughed—“Same thing you’re going to do with yours: nothing. We can’t just suddenly have extra money. My parents will be a little suspicious.”

  “What if we buy something and hide it?” asked Stephen.

  “What good is that?” asked Jack. “Besides, you don’t know my mom. She finds everything.”

  “Actually,” replied Stephen, “I’m kinda aware of that.”

  Ben began to unfold the paper and noticed two words in neat, cursive script on the outside fold: “Thank you.”

  “Why are they thanking us?” asked Ben.

  “It’s probably payment for something,” said Stephen. “Why else would someone leave money in a secret hiding place?”

  Jack held the flashlight as the three boys read the letter together. It was written in the same elegant script as the “Thank you” on the outside.

  July 19th, 1991

  Dear Traveler,

  0. I’m sure you’re curious as to why this letter encloses money. And I’m also sure you’re wondering why a beam of laser light signals this location. My motivations will become clear if you read this letter carefully. But I caution you—don’t take my benevolence for granted. Any breach of my rules will lead to dire consequences. All loyalty will be rewarded. Let me now answer your questions.

  0. In my youth, I assembled a wealth of specialized knowledge. Around the same time, I achieved financial wealth. Money hasn’t been a problem for quite a while. Because I had time and means, I was able to build this hotel. After it was completed, I realized that I wouldn’t always be around to protect my treasure; and I can’t keep pouring money into this place without getting anything in return. Also, I realized that there was no one person I could trust and I’d love to see this place stand for half of fifty years. Little by little, I developed this plan.

  0. I’m offering this money as a bribe to you. All you need to do is press the button before July 19th and come collect each year—a private trust provides these funds and pays all the taxes. Money, and a copy of this letter, will appear in this location: your reward for this small puzzle. But you need to take care that nobody sees you coming here. Across the field behind you, the woods provide good cover. Approach the hotel from those woods, if you would. Like me, you would be best served if nobody saw you at the hotel.

  1. If I tell you a bit about my life, you may have a better understanding of my motivations. About ten years ago, I lost my wife. May she rest in peace. Bereft, I set my mind to assembling a definitive library of my experience. Avocation became determination, and I focused my energy. Almost to the exclusion of everything else, I concentrated on documenting and preservin
g my knowledge. Limited health forced me to rush at the end, and there are several areas I need to expand to make my opus complete.

  0. In case you’re wondering—there’s nothing in this hotel that anyone besides me would find valuable. Although the documents I’ve assembled are incomplete, I did take the precaution of encrypting the information so only I could understand it. Maybe that will discourage you from doing something inadvisable. Betray my trust at your own risk. After a while, you’ll see the value in taking my bribe. Ask no questions and you’ll be enriched for doing almost nothing. Life hardly ever presents you with such an easy decision.

  0. I can imagine what you’re thinking—“Is this a test?” Assuredly, it’s not. Many have tried and failed to discern the true meaning here. But don’t let that stop you from trying. Avarice will betray you. Aim high, but be ready to start at the bottom. Look to your heart when at the depths of despair.

  1. I’d like to offer you some more advice — it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain. And that pain contained great power. My resolve told me to climb again until I could make my way back to my feet. Backwards is never the answer, I found. Awake in this new life I feel more alive than ever. And, as my wife would have said, “Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.” Live and let live.

  1. I hope you’ll take this bribe, and my small bits of information. Any other questions you might have will have to go unanswered. My sincerest apologies for the cryptic nature of this letter. But, take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again. A patient man can find his way out of any situation. A hasty man is almost never correct. Let’s consider this you r Job.

  Signed,

  The Management

  6C 1B 7F 80 0D 5F F6 CB

  Jack spoke first: “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever read, except for maybe these numbers at the end.”

  “Why? It makes sense to me,” said Stephen.

  “But think about it—why would he set up a light, and power for the light and then aim it into the woods?” asked Jack. “So that some random person like us would see the light and then come looking? Why not just have no light, no money, and hire someone to guard the place.”

  “Well a guard would cost a lot more,” said Ben. “And a guard also means there’s something valuable, so it might have the opposite effect. People wouldwant to break into a place with a guard.”

  “Okay,” said Jack, “but still, why lure people to find your money, when you could just leave the place boarded up. If a guard is suspicious, isn’t a light and this weird letter even more suspicious?”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” said Ben. “But, we’re supposed to press the button. What if that does something else too?”

  “So we have to assume this guy is lying?” asked Stephen. Jack and Ben nodded in agreement. “Well, then it’s simple—if he’s lying then we shouldn’t believe anything in the letter unless we confirm it ourselves.”

  “Makes sense,” said Jack.

  “So, we push the button and then wait until the 19th and see if more money appears?” pondered Ben.

  “Right,” said Stephen. “And we also see if the place really is empty.”

  “How are we going to do that without wrecking the place?” asked Jack. “Besides, maybe it’s just good enough to get seven-hundred dollars each year. That’s pretty good money for doing nothing.”

  “True,” said Ben. “But he really must be hiding something good in there. Why does he want it to stand for half of fifty years?”

  “I don’t think that has anything to do with what’s inside,” said Stephen. “But I still think we need to know what’s in there.”

  “Hey,” said Jack, “you’re only going to be here until the seventeenth. Can you change that?”

  “I don’t know.” answered Stephen. “I can call my mom tomorrow. What time is it? I guess I mean later today.”

  “Yeah,” said Jack. “We should get some sleep—it’s way late.”

  Exhausted, they put away the letter and money, and turned off the flashlight. For almost fifteen minutes they lay in silence, but couldn’t sleep. Eventually, Ben dug around and found the flashlight again. He opened the letter and began to re-read it.

  “I think it has something to do with the land,” said Ben. “There’s something he’s trying to hide on the land—and he covered it with a hotel.”

  “Could be,” said Jack. “It’s almost dawn, we should really get to sleep before my mom gets up.”

  They could have slept until noon, but Jack’s mom woke them up for breakfast a few hours after they had finally gotten to sleep.

  **********

  They caught a huge break later that morning—Jack’s mom had to go out to run errands. Jack politely declined when she offered to take the boys along. She wasn’t concerned that they would get in trouble while she was gone. They hadn’t really stirred from the couch since breakfast. Ben wanted to go back to sleep after eating, but Jack convinced him that going back to sleep would arouse too much suspicion. With his mom leaving the house, Jack thought it would be perfectly safe for them to put their damp clothes in the dryer and take a nap.

  Later that day, after they rested, they talked about the hotel again.

  “Are we going back tonight?” asked Stephen.

  “Damn right,” said Ben.

  “I’d like to know what he meant by putting up the laser and this small puzzle,” said Jack. “Did he mean the puzzle was the laser, or did we miss another puzzle?”

  “Maybe the arrow and the hatch was the puzzle,” said Stephen.

  “I guess,” mumbled Jack. He was trying to remember every detail of the previous night, but it seemed too much like a dream.

  **********

  Leaving the house that night, they were more nervous than before. Jack paused at every noise as they put on their dark clothes and made their way to the back door. He even went back once, convinced he heard someone coming down the stairs. Once out the door, they were fine. They moved with confidence through the woods.

  At the hotel, they had an argument over their next step.

  Stephen said, “We still don’t know if we can trust anything from the letter. We should look through one of the windows and see if it really is empty.”

  “But if we mess with the place, we might not get another delivery of money,” said Ben. “Let’s just press the button and get out of here.”

  They reached a compromise: press the button, see if anything happened, and then explore the perimeter of the hotel. The porch roof creaked and seemed less stable. The laser was still on, and they found the hatch right where they remembered. It was a strange feeling—confirming their surreal memories.

  “Okay, so press it,” said Jack.

  Ben peered at Jack—“I thought you were going to press it.”

  “Wait!” said Stephen. “What if it’s a bomb or something?”

  “This is a weird time to think of that,” said Ben.

  “I can’t help it,” said Stephen. “It just seems like it could be a bad thing.”

  “Well then tell my mom goodbye,” said Ben as he reached out and hit the button. He pressed it all the way in—it sank more than he expected. A loud “CLICK” made them jump. Ben felt the click through his switch-finger as well.

  “Hey, the laser’s out,” Stephen noticed.

  “I know it was on when we came up here,” said Jack.

  “Probably turned off by the button,” offered Ben.

  They paused, not sure what to do next.

  “Press it again,” said Jack.

  “Why?” asked Ben.

  “Just do it.”

  “Okay,” said Ben.

  Ben pushed the button again. There was no click this time so he held his finger in for a moment and then released.

  “Wait,” said Stephen, “did you hear that? Do it again.”

  “Hear what?” asked Jack.
Jack and Ben turned to Stephen.

  “I heard something behind that wall,” answered Stephen. “When you held the button in, there was a sliding noise or something.”

  “I didn’t hear anything, but whatever,” said Ben. He pressed the button a third time and held it. They all held their breath and listened with all their energy. After a few moments, Ben’s shoulders slumped and he began to remove his finger from the button. Then they all heard it.

  A scraping sound began somewhere inside the hotel. Jack pressed his ear against the side of the building and Ben cocked his head to try to focus the sound. It sounded like a heavy piece of metal being dragged across stone or rough concrete. After about five seconds, the sound stopped and a the same “CLICK” repeated itself.

  “Sounds done, whatever it was doing,” said Ben. “But maybe we should try again?”

  “Not yet—let’s think about this,” said Jack. “It really did sound like something was opening or closing in there. And I get the feeling that it was completed.”

  “Yeah,” said Stephen, “it moved and finished.”

  “Let’s see if anything changed,” said Jack.

  The three of them poured over the section of wall they could reach from the porch roof. Inside the small wooden compartment, where the laser used to come out, and around and above—they could find no more holes, latches, or compartments.

  “Now what?” said Stephen. “Are we missing something?”

  “I wish we had the letter with us,” said Jack. “I think there’s more to that than we saw.”

  “Let’s go see if we can look inside,” said Stephen. “I think we’re done up here.”

  The hotel had engaged them now—captivated their attention. No longer tentative, they stalked around the back of the hotel looking for a way to see inside. One of the boarded up windows had a corner that was slightly exposed. Each took a turn pressing their eye up to the hole and shining a flashlight in. It was so dark in the hole that it took Ben several minutes to realize that they were only seeing a dozen inches.