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(LSWC) The Enviable Kent Clarke
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(Note: I attacked and the paper fought back. I envisioned a short parody; I found a satirical look at government rules, conspiracies, cover-ups, and
lunacy. Enjoy!)
One would have thought he was insane, or on his way, when he came down the final step of the back stairway. Putting his back against the wall, standing quietly, and listening is not something normal people are known to do, but he did. And realizing there was nothing but faint conversation, he proceeded.
Carefully, slowly, he peered around the corner. One quick glimpse and he withdrew to process what he had seen, or not seen.
An arm with a pencil in hand; the elbow propped on a desk.
Listening again he smiled. She’s on the phone. Good. A quick step, he was in the hall; two steps later, he was in the office, his office.
Rounding the desk, his desk, he snatched the note taped to the lamp, sat down, and read:
“9:30. Look at the clock.
9:30. Every Monday, same thing, you sneak down the back stairs as if no one will know, enter your office thinking you are safe, but I know. I see these things….”
“9:30,” said the voice in the doorway.
“9:30,” the sassy little Chinese woman entering the room said again, “What am I going to do with you?”
“You could make a point of, maybe, waking me personally?”
She leaned across the desk her dark eyes meeting green ones with just a hint of laughter. Like a scolded schoolboy he leaned back in his chair, silent.
“That might not be such a good idea. Company policy, you understand.”
“But I own the company.”
“And I’m the office manager,” she replied just as quickly, then began her customary to and fro routine as if thinking out loud.
“Every Monday, same thing,” the small voice took up once again, “you come in 9:30. You not here at 9:27. I know you be here at 9:30. And here you are.
“You don’t come down front stair and get coffee like normal person; you come down back stair and avoid me. I should fire you.”
Always, the more upset she became, the more broken her English became. Funny, he had no Irish temper as he watched her pace back a forth, in some way thinking to herself, and in others, letting out steam. He knew better than to speak though, lest she suddenly break into a line of Chinese that would leave him wondering if she was cursing or just fed up with his lackadaisical attitude.
“Anyway,” she ended her fuss walking to the door, “Don’t forget your 10:30 appointment.”
“Beg pardon?” He leaned forward in his chair with interest for the first time,
“Kent, the reminder was in the drop box this morning,” Mai replied, “Not like you told me or anything. And if you didn’t tell me, how am I supposed to know these things?”
She disappeared before he could say a word. And he sat wondering how he had an appointment he couldn’t recall. Certainly he was laid back, at times, he admitted he was clueless, but still, completely forgetting an appointment was not something to which he had ever been guilty.
“Here’s the note,” Mai appeared again, this time looking at the paper she was holding, “You are to meet with a Colonel Wong at OOOS at 10:30. There’s the address, right there.”
She dotted it with her finger.
“Well, now. I…uh…suppose I’d best be on my way,” he spoke as he rose, picking up the paper, “I shouldn’t keep Colonel Wong waiting, now should I?”
“And do give it some thought…..you know…of maybe once in a great while waking me when I…over sleep, hmm?”
Mai half sit on the desk, her arms crossed, with a sly look, sexy enough to stamp out any fire, should he get too bold.
“No,” she paused smiling, “you shouldn’t….keep the colonel waiting I mean. We like punctuality and neatness. But don’t mind me. Go your usual slob like self….yes, the open collar look will be fine. No one will ever know.”
“Oh! Hey!”
He paused pulling on his jacket, and looked over his shoulder.
“Don’t put strawberries in the whipped cream,” she said in a parting shot.
“Now Mai, you know me” he smiled, “Would I do such a thing?”
(Continued)
[edit on 7/25/2008 by garyo1954]
One would have thought he was insane, or on his way, when he came down the final step of the back stairway. Putting his back against the wall, standing quietly, and listening is not something normal people are known to do, but he did. And realizing there was nothing but faint conversation, he proceeded.
Carefully, slowly, he peered around the corner. One quick glimpse and he withdrew to process what he had seen, or not seen.
An arm with a pencil in hand; the elbow propped on a desk.
Listening again he smiled. She’s on the phone. Good. A quick step, he was in the hall; two steps later, he was in the office, his office.
Rounding the desk, his desk, he snatched the note taped to the lamp, sat down, and read:
“9:30. Look at the clock.
9:30. Every Monday, same thing, you sneak down the back stairs as if no one will know, enter your office thinking you are safe, but I know. I see these things….”
“9:30,” said the voice in the doorway.
“9:30,” the sassy little Chinese woman entering the room said again, “What am I going to do with you?”
“You could make a point of, maybe, waking me personally?”
She leaned across the desk her dark eyes meeting green ones with just a hint of laughter. Like a scolded schoolboy he leaned back in his chair, silent.
“That might not be such a good idea. Company policy, you understand.”
“But I own the company.”
“And I’m the office manager,” she replied just as quickly, then began her customary to and fro routine as if thinking out loud.
“Every Monday, same thing,” the small voice took up once again, “you come in 9:30. You not here at 9:27. I know you be here at 9:30. And here you are.
“You don’t come down front stair and get coffee like normal person; you come down back stair and avoid me. I should fire you.”
Always, the more upset she became, the more broken her English became. Funny, he had no Irish temper as he watched her pace back a forth, in some way thinking to herself, and in others, letting out steam. He knew better than to speak though, lest she suddenly break into a line of Chinese that would leave him wondering if she was cursing or just fed up with his lackadaisical attitude.
“Anyway,” she ended her fuss walking to the door, “Don’t forget your 10:30 appointment.”
“Beg pardon?” He leaned forward in his chair with interest for the first time,
“Kent, the reminder was in the drop box this morning,” Mai replied, “Not like you told me or anything. And if you didn’t tell me, how am I supposed to know these things?”
She disappeared before he could say a word. And he sat wondering how he had an appointment he couldn’t recall. Certainly he was laid back, at times, he admitted he was clueless, but still, completely forgetting an appointment was not something to which he had ever been guilty.
“Here’s the note,” Mai appeared again, this time looking at the paper she was holding, “You are to meet with a Colonel Wong at OOOS at 10:30. There’s the address, right there.”
She dotted it with her finger.
“Well, now. I…uh…suppose I’d best be on my way,” he spoke as he rose, picking up the paper, “I shouldn’t keep Colonel Wong waiting, now should I?”
“And do give it some thought…..you know…of maybe once in a great while waking me when I…over sleep, hmm?”
Mai half sit on the desk, her arms crossed, with a sly look, sexy enough to stamp out any fire, should he get too bold.
“No,” she paused smiling, “you shouldn’t….keep the colonel waiting I mean. We like punctuality and neatness. But don’t mind me. Go your usual slob like self….yes, the open collar look will be fine. No one will ever know.”
“Oh! Hey!”
He paused pulling on his jacket, and looked over his shoulder.
“Don’t put strawberries in the whipped cream,” she said in a parting shot.
“Now Mai, you know me” he smiled, “Would I do such a thing?”
(Continued)
[edit on 7/25/2008 by garyo1954]
Part II
The only entrance was on Riddle Avenue. He looked the building over as he drove around it. Small, two story, fenced in grounds, not a place he had been before. He parked in the garage, walked half a block to the walk-in gate, then into the building.
Cute, he thought, as he made his way to the desk where a small woman in a navy blue dress splattered with small white polka dots sat reading the paper.
“Excuse me,” he began, “I…..uh…..
“You don’t obey rules very well, now do you?” She asked without lifting her eyes from the paper.
“Well, I thought…..”
“Yes, I see,” she interjected, “You thought. Sure. Everyone thinks, but no one ever thinks about obeying the rules. This is a government facility. Did you see the little ropes attached to the poles with the sign back there? It says: ‘ENTER HERE?’
“Of course not,” she went on, “So why don’t we try this again? Why don’t you go back the way you came, enter where the entrance is and stop on the line that says ‘Please wait until called.’ Can we do that? Or do you run stop signs when no one is looking? Hmmmm?”
He moved, thinking to himself she must be having a bad day, back around the roped off area, entered where the entrance was, made his winding path to the ‘Please wait’ sign, and waited. The cute receptionist snapped her paper but made no move to address him. A minute later he leaned a tad forward and gently whispered, “Hello?” to the woman still reading the newspaper. She glanced up with smile.
“Next,” she called as she sat everything aside and picked up her pen.
She seemed pleasant enough, but owing to his previous encounter with this same person he looked around to make sure, he was next. Noting there was no one else in line, or near the line, he concluded she was speaking to him. He stepped up.
“Well good morning sir. And how can I be of assistance?” she asked with an innocence that purged his previous wrongdoings.
“I have an appointment with Colonel Wong at the OOOS…..”
“No, no, no,” she stopped him again waving her pencil, “That is just not right.”
“Then can you help me out?” Kent laid the paper before her.
“Oh, I see,” she began, “Interesting. You know, these people, I mean some people, even people who work for the government, have this problem.”
She leaned forward as if to bring him into her confidence, “They don’t follow the rules. Or they don’t know what, or who, or where they are directing you.”
“However, you do have an appointment at OOOS, but Wong is wrong. And the man’s name is Wright.”
“I’m not following,” Kent said clearly puzzled, “Perhaps it is just Monday, but how can the man’s name be right, if Wong is wrong?”
“Now see? That’s how things get so muddled. I said Wong is wrong,” the young lady in the navy blue dress with the white small polka dots emphasized, “and I said Wright, W-R-I-G-H-T is right. Colonel Wright is who you need to see.
“If whoever gave you this had checked he, or she, would know these things. And they would be able to direct you in the precise and proper manner as required by the rules. Government is all about following the rules you see. If everyone follows the rules, then the rules work. But when one person doesn’t follow the rules, well, you see what we have here?
She paused just long enough to catch a breath, “We have a mess because someone didn’t follow the rules.”
“Yes, uh, very clear,” he agreed, “and…uh…now, how would one find Colonel Wright, if I may ask?”
“See that hallway there?” she raised her left hand and pointed her index finger.
“Yes,” he replied lifting his right hand and pointing his index finger in the same direction.
“Down the hall, and take the elevator to the 13th floor,” her hand returned to the desk.
“Thank you,” his hand returned to his side as he quickly took his leave.
The only entrance was on Riddle Avenue. He looked the building over as he drove around it. Small, two story, fenced in grounds, not a place he had been before. He parked in the garage, walked half a block to the walk-in gate, then into the building.
Cute, he thought, as he made his way to the desk where a small woman in a navy blue dress splattered with small white polka dots sat reading the paper.
“Excuse me,” he began, “I…..uh…..
“You don’t obey rules very well, now do you?” She asked without lifting her eyes from the paper.
“Well, I thought…..”
“Yes, I see,” she interjected, “You thought. Sure. Everyone thinks, but no one ever thinks about obeying the rules. This is a government facility. Did you see the little ropes attached to the poles with the sign back there? It says: ‘ENTER HERE?’
“Of course not,” she went on, “So why don’t we try this again? Why don’t you go back the way you came, enter where the entrance is and stop on the line that says ‘Please wait until called.’ Can we do that? Or do you run stop signs when no one is looking? Hmmmm?”
He moved, thinking to himself she must be having a bad day, back around the roped off area, entered where the entrance was, made his winding path to the ‘Please wait’ sign, and waited. The cute receptionist snapped her paper but made no move to address him. A minute later he leaned a tad forward and gently whispered, “Hello?” to the woman still reading the newspaper. She glanced up with smile.
“Next,” she called as she sat everything aside and picked up her pen.
She seemed pleasant enough, but owing to his previous encounter with this same person he looked around to make sure, he was next. Noting there was no one else in line, or near the line, he concluded she was speaking to him. He stepped up.
“Well good morning sir. And how can I be of assistance?” she asked with an innocence that purged his previous wrongdoings.
“I have an appointment with Colonel Wong at the OOOS…..”
“No, no, no,” she stopped him again waving her pencil, “That is just not right.”
“Then can you help me out?” Kent laid the paper before her.
“Oh, I see,” she began, “Interesting. You know, these people, I mean some people, even people who work for the government, have this problem.”
She leaned forward as if to bring him into her confidence, “They don’t follow the rules. Or they don’t know what, or who, or where they are directing you.”
“However, you do have an appointment at OOOS, but Wong is wrong. And the man’s name is Wright.”
“I’m not following,” Kent said clearly puzzled, “Perhaps it is just Monday, but how can the man’s name be right, if Wong is wrong?”
“Now see? That’s how things get so muddled. I said Wong is wrong,” the young lady in the navy blue dress with the white small polka dots emphasized, “and I said Wright, W-R-I-G-H-T is right. Colonel Wright is who you need to see.
“If whoever gave you this had checked he, or she, would know these things. And they would be able to direct you in the precise and proper manner as required by the rules. Government is all about following the rules you see. If everyone follows the rules, then the rules work. But when one person doesn’t follow the rules, well, you see what we have here?
She paused just long enough to catch a breath, “We have a mess because someone didn’t follow the rules.”
“Yes, uh, very clear,” he agreed, “and…uh…now, how would one find Colonel Wright, if I may ask?”
“See that hallway there?” she raised her left hand and pointed her index finger.
“Yes,” he replied lifting his right hand and pointing his index finger in the same direction.
“Down the hall, and take the elevator to the 13th floor,” her hand returned to the desk.
“Thank you,” his hand returned to his side as he quickly took his leave.
Part III
Midway down the hall he found the elevator and stepped inside. Curiously, there was only one button on the panel equipped with a video screen urging him to “Insert key card.”
He looked at the slot, then pressed he button, which one doesn’t necessarily do in a place where there are rules.
“He forgot his badge,” one security guard looked at the other as they converged at the door.”
“Yes, definitely,” the older guard nodded in agreement.
“You forgot your badge, didn’t you?” the larger of the two asked.
“Well, not exactly,” Kent started.
“Then where is you badge?” the older man asked, “You know your B-A-D-G-E? It looks like this,” he held up his badge, complete with his picture, hanging on a chain around his neck to demonstrate what he was talking about. The guards name was Ike.
“I don’t seem to have one,” Kent answered.
“We’ll have to take him to head of security,” said the larger guard looking at the guard named Ike.
“Yes, that is the rule, Mike,” Ike agreed, “Anyone without a badge must be taken to head of security.”
“Please turn around and place your hands on the wall,” said the security guard named Mike, “We’re going to have to handcuff you now.”
“Well, gentlemen, there is no need for handcuffs,” Kent assured them, “I’ll go peacefully.”
“Well,” Ike, the older guard spoke as the two looked at each other, “We do have options here. But the rules….”
“….a strip search?” Mike, the larger guard, countered, “We can’t have someone we’re escorting to head of security set off a bomb. We’d be held accountable because we failed to handcuff him.”
“What if I told you,” Kent spoke up, “I don’t have a bomb?”
“I agree you probably don’t have a bomb,” Ike said, “but rules are rules.”
“He doesn’t look like he has a bomb,” Mike agreed.
“Yes,” Ike thought a moment, “but Mike, would a person with a bomb look like they had a bomb?”
“Well, that is a good question,” Mike scratched his head, “I don’t know if I’d know. We’ve never caught anyone with a bomb, not that someone hasn’t brought one, mind you, we just never caught them if they did.”
“Well, it’s your turn” Ike poked Mike in the chest, “It is too damn close to lunch for me to want to mess with a strip search. So if you want a strip search, you do it.”
“Uhhh, pardon me……why don’t I just….walk….myself to head of security and you follow?” Kent asked these gentlemen graciously.
“No rule against that,” the guards looked at each other.
“Nope. No rule against that.” Mike hastily agreed, “Ike get on the horn and tell them to clear the hall we’re bringing in a prisoner.”
“But there is no one in the hall,” Kent observed.
“Rules, you know,” Mike explained, “Now, just step out of the elevator nice and slow. We don’t want to have to hurt you or anything like that.
“And please be careful we don’t want you to get hurt on anything,” Ike added, “You know how messy lawsuits can be? So just take your time, nice and easy does it.”
Kent did as he was instructed.
“Very good. Now follow my commands.”
Kent walked back up the hall, turned right on command, stopping again in front of the desk where the cute blond in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots sat reading the paper.
“What have we got?” she asked without looking up.
“We caught him trying to use the elevator,” Ike started.
“But he doesn’t have a badge,” Mike finished.
“I see,” she stared at Kent, “I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
They guards had barely disappeared when she stood up speaking irritably.
“What are you, trying to ruin my day? I specifically told you we have rules. You didn’t follow them. You didn’t ask the proper questions. And now, I’m going to need some ID, and plenty of answers.”
Kent fished his wallet from his pocket and laid his license on the desk. Her eyes still on him, she seated herself scooping up the license.
“Nice mug shot Mr.………Clarke Kent,” she mused.
“It’s Kent Clarke.”
“Well, if you’ll just step into my office Mr. KENT,” she had undoubtedly ignored his correction, “we’ll see if we can’t sort this…this….preposterous mess, out.”
Her hand moved and pressed a button below the desk, Kent heard a latch. A door to his left popped slightly ajar. And stepping through the door he found himself in a small office just aside from the main area.
The woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots was standing, back to him, bent at the waist, digging through the bottom drawer of the files opposite. He took the momentary glance as men do, admiring and noting her attitude was not the only reason to call her a tight ass.
“Have a seat,” she turned catching his look and irritably dropped the thick folder on the small counter between them. Without taking her blue eyes off him, she brought her chair over.
As she seated herself, the dress hiked a slight three inches above the knee. Nice, he thought.
“Need I remind you of the penalties you could be facing if you don’t fully co-operate here, Mr. Kent…..”
“No, no, I’m Mr. Clarke. Kent is my first name.”
“Now, it doesn’t matter to me that you’ll have to fill out all these forms,” she opened the thick folder, never acknowledging his correction and without missing a beat, “including this 11, and 11B, this 23, 25, 31, 45, and this abominable thing we call 61…all 16 pages of form 61!”
She paused a moment to let it sink in.
“But if you’ll co-operate with me, I think we can get passed all this. Do you think you can help me with this?”
“Uh…well….certainly,” he stammered having been drawn back from his study of the heart shaped face framed with the blonde hair and the blue eyes that were losing that steely stare, “If there is……anything I can do…”
“Good!” She interrupted again, “So we’re going to pretend that none of this happened. This is our first meeting. You did not just stroll in off the street and attempt to access an
inaccessible governmentally secure area to which you…are…not…privy. You were not apprehended and you were not brought here. This,” she tapped her index finger repeatedly on the desk, “is our first meeting. Am I right?”
“Most certainly” Kent acknowledged.
She shut the folder, “And takes care of all this unnecessary paperwork.”
Midway down the hall he found the elevator and stepped inside. Curiously, there was only one button on the panel equipped with a video screen urging him to “Insert key card.”
He looked at the slot, then pressed he button, which one doesn’t necessarily do in a place where there are rules.
“He forgot his badge,” one security guard looked at the other as they converged at the door.”
“Yes, definitely,” the older guard nodded in agreement.
“You forgot your badge, didn’t you?” the larger of the two asked.
“Well, not exactly,” Kent started.
“Then where is you badge?” the older man asked, “You know your B-A-D-G-E? It looks like this,” he held up his badge, complete with his picture, hanging on a chain around his neck to demonstrate what he was talking about. The guards name was Ike.
“I don’t seem to have one,” Kent answered.
“We’ll have to take him to head of security,” said the larger guard looking at the guard named Ike.
“Yes, that is the rule, Mike,” Ike agreed, “Anyone without a badge must be taken to head of security.”
“Please turn around and place your hands on the wall,” said the security guard named Mike, “We’re going to have to handcuff you now.”
“Well, gentlemen, there is no need for handcuffs,” Kent assured them, “I’ll go peacefully.”
“Well,” Ike, the older guard spoke as the two looked at each other, “We do have options here. But the rules….”
“….a strip search?” Mike, the larger guard, countered, “We can’t have someone we’re escorting to head of security set off a bomb. We’d be held accountable because we failed to handcuff him.”
“What if I told you,” Kent spoke up, “I don’t have a bomb?”
“I agree you probably don’t have a bomb,” Ike said, “but rules are rules.”
“He doesn’t look like he has a bomb,” Mike agreed.
“Yes,” Ike thought a moment, “but Mike, would a person with a bomb look like they had a bomb?”
“Well, that is a good question,” Mike scratched his head, “I don’t know if I’d know. We’ve never caught anyone with a bomb, not that someone hasn’t brought one, mind you, we just never caught them if they did.”
“Well, it’s your turn” Ike poked Mike in the chest, “It is too damn close to lunch for me to want to mess with a strip search. So if you want a strip search, you do it.”
“Uhhh, pardon me……why don’t I just….walk….myself to head of security and you follow?” Kent asked these gentlemen graciously.
“No rule against that,” the guards looked at each other.
“Nope. No rule against that.” Mike hastily agreed, “Ike get on the horn and tell them to clear the hall we’re bringing in a prisoner.”
“But there is no one in the hall,” Kent observed.
“Rules, you know,” Mike explained, “Now, just step out of the elevator nice and slow. We don’t want to have to hurt you or anything like that.
“And please be careful we don’t want you to get hurt on anything,” Ike added, “You know how messy lawsuits can be? So just take your time, nice and easy does it.”
Kent did as he was instructed.
“Very good. Now follow my commands.”
Kent walked back up the hall, turned right on command, stopping again in front of the desk where the cute blond in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots sat reading the paper.
“What have we got?” she asked without looking up.
“We caught him trying to use the elevator,” Ike started.
“But he doesn’t have a badge,” Mike finished.
“I see,” she stared at Kent, “I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
They guards had barely disappeared when she stood up speaking irritably.
“What are you, trying to ruin my day? I specifically told you we have rules. You didn’t follow them. You didn’t ask the proper questions. And now, I’m going to need some ID, and plenty of answers.”
Kent fished his wallet from his pocket and laid his license on the desk. Her eyes still on him, she seated herself scooping up the license.
“Nice mug shot Mr.………Clarke Kent,” she mused.
“It’s Kent Clarke.”
“Well, if you’ll just step into my office Mr. KENT,” she had undoubtedly ignored his correction, “we’ll see if we can’t sort this…this….preposterous mess, out.”
Her hand moved and pressed a button below the desk, Kent heard a latch. A door to his left popped slightly ajar. And stepping through the door he found himself in a small office just aside from the main area.
The woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots was standing, back to him, bent at the waist, digging through the bottom drawer of the files opposite. He took the momentary glance as men do, admiring and noting her attitude was not the only reason to call her a tight ass.
“Have a seat,” she turned catching his look and irritably dropped the thick folder on the small counter between them. Without taking her blue eyes off him, she brought her chair over.
As she seated herself, the dress hiked a slight three inches above the knee. Nice, he thought.
“Need I remind you of the penalties you could be facing if you don’t fully co-operate here, Mr. Kent…..”
“No, no, I’m Mr. Clarke. Kent is my first name.”
“Now, it doesn’t matter to me that you’ll have to fill out all these forms,” she opened the thick folder, never acknowledging his correction and without missing a beat, “including this 11, and 11B, this 23, 25, 31, 45, and this abominable thing we call 61…all 16 pages of form 61!”
She paused a moment to let it sink in.
“But if you’ll co-operate with me, I think we can get passed all this. Do you think you can help me with this?”
“Uh…well….certainly,” he stammered having been drawn back from his study of the heart shaped face framed with the blonde hair and the blue eyes that were losing that steely stare, “If there is……anything I can do…”
“Good!” She interrupted again, “So we’re going to pretend that none of this happened. This is our first meeting. You did not just stroll in off the street and attempt to access an
inaccessible governmentally secure area to which you…are…not…privy. You were not apprehended and you were not brought here. This,” she tapped her index finger repeatedly on the desk, “is our first meeting. Am I right?”
“Most certainly” Kent acknowledged.
She shut the folder, “And takes care of all this unnecessary paperwork.”
Part IV
The woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots reached into a drawer just below her knees and produced a couple of pieces of paper and laid them on the counter, “But you will have to sign a couple of minor affidavits before we can proceed.”
She placed a sheet of paper before him and laid a pen on it, “Please read this. Fill in the blank by printing your name, and sign it at the bottom.”
Kent read it carefully, filling in the blank as instructed. The page now read:
I, Kent Clarke, do make this voluntary statement.
I am who I say I am and have no aliases, known or unknown; and am not an accomplice nor member of any group, organization, party, sect, known or unknown; and am not directly or indirectly working in any way, means, or manner, with or without allies, and/or instruction(s) to direct, or participate in the overthrow of the government of this nation.
Below was a signature line.
“Excuse me,” he looked up to catch the small woman studying him, “Ummm, I’m wondering…uh….how would I know if I was acquainted with parties who might be members of an organization or group wishing to overthrow…..”
“There you go thinking again,” the woman in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots and gorgeous legs emphasized the thinking part. At least this time there was a smirk on her face.
“Let me make this simple. Surely, you can tell me anything, right? And if you weren’t who you said you were, it would simple enough to obtain the ID necessary to prove that who you said you were you were, even if who you said you were, you weren’t. Got it?”
“Now the only means I have of establishing you are not who you say you are is…torture.
Would you like me to torture you?”
A long pause followed as Kent tried to imagine whether the torture would amount to pain from recitations of rules or pleasure from…..
“Well, Mr. Kent, I don’t think that is necessary at the moment. As far as I know you haven’t pretended to be someone else. And until you do, I have no reason. What I want you to understand is this is just a statement saying that you acknowledge the statement you have signed is true to the best of your knowledge. If there are things that are untrue in that statement, then apparently those things were not known at the time of the signing. So, for both our sakes: PLEASE SIGN THE STATEMENT!”
The scrunchy nosed face she made at the end assured Kent it was best for all, and he signed.
Looking at the other document he filled in the blank and read:
I, Kent Clarke, affirm that I am a true American citizen by birth, or by naturalization process, and at the time of entrance into the government facility, I am not knowingly or unknowingly carrying any weapon, including but not limited to any known nuclear devices, or other devices known to cause bodily harm in any way, means, manner, or instance; and have no weapons of mass destruction on my person.
With a chuckle he signed this also knowing there was no way, but maybe he should ask, for the torture.
“Very good,” the slight cute woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots and gorgeous legs said as she cradled the phone.
“Your parties upstairs agreed we should start the in-processing to get you to your meeting. So, let’s make you a badge.”
Placing a folio before him she pointed, “The standard issue badge comes with some options so you can personalize it without being outside the rules. If you notice,” she moved her pen across the page, “we have three backgrounds, the grey is standard, the blue is a little better, but as for you, I think the green background would look wonderful against you green eyes and red hair. Don’t you agree?”
“Well, if that is what you think. You know more about these things than I do anyway.”
“Good. Now the picture can be black and white, or color, but you know the colored background almost requires a color picture. It’s so tacky when someone wants a colored background and a black and white photo. So I think the thing here, with the green background you understand, is the color photo. How does that sound?”
“Of course, again you know more about these things so that will be fine.”
“Now there is a small surcharge, but I’m sure you’ll be well pleased with the result. At this point I’ll need to collect $15 for the photography and processing fees.”
“Excuse me?!?”
“You understand this is only governmental offset costs. Why, it costs quite a bit more for photographic services, badge processing, laminating….people don’t understand these things….you do understand, don’t you?
“And I’m actually trying to save you some money here by offering you the standard size photo. We have some egomaniacs, unlike you, who choose the larger two and a half -inch picture, but I understand a man of your caliber is not so egotistical as to require that larger size picture so you’ll get the green background, color photo of yourself, in the two inch size for $15.”
Kent laid the money on the desk and stood where she directed him. She snapped without warning so the photo was done without a smile.
“Now, we’re almost ready to go.” She collected the photo, paper badge, printed by way of the computer, and stuffed it, with the money, into a large brown envelope and slipped it into her desk.
“I’ll try to expedite this, but it may take two days. In the meantime, you’ll need a keycard to access the elevator. You see, the government understands delays and for those times we have these.”
She produced a piece of plastic, “They only work on the day they are activated so every day you enter the building you’ll need to stop by and see me for a new one. That is until you get your badge. Now, I’ll need you to sign this form assuring us you will return the card in the same condition it was issued.”
Once again, Kent filled in the blank with his printed name and read:
I, Kent Clarke, affirm the issued keycard will be used only as intended, in accordance with fair and active government policy, and agree to the immediate and safe return of the item in my possession upon departure of this facility. I further agree that I may be charged for any damage, marks, dents, or other manipulations that occur with or without my knowledge including, but not limited to, destruction by parties known and unknown whether they be present or not, and whether damage occurs in my presence or not.
Kent did not necessarily agree with government policy. He looked at the woman in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots and gorgeous legs and heart shaped face, he was sure Ms Governmental Policy was not her name, but knew any protest or questions regarding the statement he was signing would do no good.
Wonder what her name is, he thought as he scribbled a signature.
“Now that will be a $10 card deposit. Once you return the card, you’ll get the $10 back. Will there be anything else?”
“May I ask you a question?” Kent laid out another ten and almost decided her name should be Ms Moneybags.
“You may,” blue eyes replied, “But I’m not sure I’ll be at liberty to answer it at the moment.”
“Well, if it doesn’t cost another government offset,” he paused waiting for dollar figure, “Earlier, you said 13th floor. I have been wondering. I mean, when I came in, I saw a two story building. Is there something I’m missing here?”
Her blue eyes smiled. She interlaced her fingers and dropped her hands on her desk shrugging.
“The best answer I can give you is to go to the elevator, use your key card and see Colonel Wright. Mike and Ike won’t bother you this time.”
“Bye now,” she pushed her chair away from the small counter and back into the reception area, pressed the button, the door clicked, and returned to her paper.
The woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots reached into a drawer just below her knees and produced a couple of pieces of paper and laid them on the counter, “But you will have to sign a couple of minor affidavits before we can proceed.”
She placed a sheet of paper before him and laid a pen on it, “Please read this. Fill in the blank by printing your name, and sign it at the bottom.”
Kent read it carefully, filling in the blank as instructed. The page now read:
I, Kent Clarke, do make this voluntary statement.
I am who I say I am and have no aliases, known or unknown; and am not an accomplice nor member of any group, organization, party, sect, known or unknown; and am not directly or indirectly working in any way, means, or manner, with or without allies, and/or instruction(s) to direct, or participate in the overthrow of the government of this nation.
Below was a signature line.
“Excuse me,” he looked up to catch the small woman studying him, “Ummm, I’m wondering…uh….how would I know if I was acquainted with parties who might be members of an organization or group wishing to overthrow…..”
“There you go thinking again,” the woman in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots and gorgeous legs emphasized the thinking part. At least this time there was a smirk on her face.
“Let me make this simple. Surely, you can tell me anything, right? And if you weren’t who you said you were, it would simple enough to obtain the ID necessary to prove that who you said you were you were, even if who you said you were, you weren’t. Got it?”
“Now the only means I have of establishing you are not who you say you are is…torture.
Would you like me to torture you?”
A long pause followed as Kent tried to imagine whether the torture would amount to pain from recitations of rules or pleasure from…..
“Well, Mr. Kent, I don’t think that is necessary at the moment. As far as I know you haven’t pretended to be someone else. And until you do, I have no reason. What I want you to understand is this is just a statement saying that you acknowledge the statement you have signed is true to the best of your knowledge. If there are things that are untrue in that statement, then apparently those things were not known at the time of the signing. So, for both our sakes: PLEASE SIGN THE STATEMENT!”
The scrunchy nosed face she made at the end assured Kent it was best for all, and he signed.
Looking at the other document he filled in the blank and read:
I, Kent Clarke, affirm that I am a true American citizen by birth, or by naturalization process, and at the time of entrance into the government facility, I am not knowingly or unknowingly carrying any weapon, including but not limited to any known nuclear devices, or other devices known to cause bodily harm in any way, means, manner, or instance; and have no weapons of mass destruction on my person.
With a chuckle he signed this also knowing there was no way, but maybe he should ask, for the torture.
“Very good,” the slight cute woman in the navy blue dress with the small polka dots and gorgeous legs said as she cradled the phone.
“Your parties upstairs agreed we should start the in-processing to get you to your meeting. So, let’s make you a badge.”
Placing a folio before him she pointed, “The standard issue badge comes with some options so you can personalize it without being outside the rules. If you notice,” she moved her pen across the page, “we have three backgrounds, the grey is standard, the blue is a little better, but as for you, I think the green background would look wonderful against you green eyes and red hair. Don’t you agree?”
“Well, if that is what you think. You know more about these things than I do anyway.”
“Good. Now the picture can be black and white, or color, but you know the colored background almost requires a color picture. It’s so tacky when someone wants a colored background and a black and white photo. So I think the thing here, with the green background you understand, is the color photo. How does that sound?”
“Of course, again you know more about these things so that will be fine.”
“Now there is a small surcharge, but I’m sure you’ll be well pleased with the result. At this point I’ll need to collect $15 for the photography and processing fees.”
“Excuse me?!?”
“You understand this is only governmental offset costs. Why, it costs quite a bit more for photographic services, badge processing, laminating….people don’t understand these things….you do understand, don’t you?
“And I’m actually trying to save you some money here by offering you the standard size photo. We have some egomaniacs, unlike you, who choose the larger two and a half -inch picture, but I understand a man of your caliber is not so egotistical as to require that larger size picture so you’ll get the green background, color photo of yourself, in the two inch size for $15.”
Kent laid the money on the desk and stood where she directed him. She snapped without warning so the photo was done without a smile.
“Now, we’re almost ready to go.” She collected the photo, paper badge, printed by way of the computer, and stuffed it, with the money, into a large brown envelope and slipped it into her desk.
“I’ll try to expedite this, but it may take two days. In the meantime, you’ll need a keycard to access the elevator. You see, the government understands delays and for those times we have these.”
She produced a piece of plastic, “They only work on the day they are activated so every day you enter the building you’ll need to stop by and see me for a new one. That is until you get your badge. Now, I’ll need you to sign this form assuring us you will return the card in the same condition it was issued.”
Once again, Kent filled in the blank with his printed name and read:
I, Kent Clarke, affirm the issued keycard will be used only as intended, in accordance with fair and active government policy, and agree to the immediate and safe return of the item in my possession upon departure of this facility. I further agree that I may be charged for any damage, marks, dents, or other manipulations that occur with or without my knowledge including, but not limited to, destruction by parties known and unknown whether they be present or not, and whether damage occurs in my presence or not.
Kent did not necessarily agree with government policy. He looked at the woman in the navy blue dress with the small white polka dots and gorgeous legs and heart shaped face, he was sure Ms Governmental Policy was not her name, but knew any protest or questions regarding the statement he was signing would do no good.
Wonder what her name is, he thought as he scribbled a signature.
“Now that will be a $10 card deposit. Once you return the card, you’ll get the $10 back. Will there be anything else?”
“May I ask you a question?” Kent laid out another ten and almost decided her name should be Ms Moneybags.
“You may,” blue eyes replied, “But I’m not sure I’ll be at liberty to answer it at the moment.”
“Well, if it doesn’t cost another government offset,” he paused waiting for dollar figure, “Earlier, you said 13th floor. I have been wondering. I mean, when I came in, I saw a two story building. Is there something I’m missing here?”
Her blue eyes smiled. She interlaced her fingers and dropped her hands on her desk shrugging.
“The best answer I can give you is to go to the elevator, use your key card and see Colonel Wright. Mike and Ike won’t bother you this time.”
“Bye now,” she pushed her chair away from the small counter and back into the reception area, pressed the button, the door clicked, and returned to her paper.
Part V
Kent stood in the elevator once again studying the screen which read “Insert keycard.”
As he did, the door closed and the elevator began to move. The machine released his keycard and a new message blinked on screen, “In Case of Emergency Push Button.”
He had no reason to doubt help wouldn’t arrive swiftly having tested the button earlier.
The elevator stopped. The door opened. Across the hall in large letters he read OOOS with an arrow directing him left. As he steeped off, he realized he couldn’t have gone right had he wanted to, but he could see he was no higher than the second floor through the large plate glass window.
Thirteenth floor he thought, was she being cute? or inferring this might be the twilight zone?
“Hi,” a voice spoke behind him and he turned to see a young man extending his hand.
“You must be Mr. Clark Kent,” the man shook his hand firmly and continued, “The colonel will be with you momentarily. I’m Darren. I’ve been asked to escort you to the conference room. Shall we?”
As the two walked up the hall Darren continued to talk.
“We’ve undergone some changes recently, so it’s quite understandable how you got the Wong name,” he chuckled, Kent smiled, “Although we are headed up by the military, we do work with a number of civilian contractors. Some of our regulations and rules can be quite confusing. Don’t let it bother you, just relax and you’ll get the hang of it. Well, here we are,” he opened the door.
Stepping through the doorway Darren ushered him to a seat near the front, in the center of the room.
“Now, Mr. Kent…..”
“Darren, pardon me,” Kent spoke up, “My name is Kent Clarke. I’ve tried to explain this but no one seems to be listening. Clarke is my surname, you see.”
“Well, that’s quite understandable too,” Darren suggested, “people don’t often listen. They simply assume if you know who they are talking to, then they have it right. I apologize if I offended you, I promise to keep your little secret. Notice I’m in civilian clothes myself and after 13 years I still get called mister. Go figure. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Well, I am wondering,” Kent said, “What exactly is OOOS?”
“Ah, the colonel loves to his little explanation on this. But in short, OOOS stands for the Office of Official Secrets. If I tell you more it would be unfair to the colonel. You understand?”
“Whoops! I’ve got a meeting in five,” Darren announced as he looked at his watch, “I’m going to leave you now and don’t worry, the colonel will be with you shortly. These people are prompt. I would advise you to not wander the halls, just make yourself comfortable. Pleasure meeting you.”
And with that, Darren closed the door.
Kent stood in the elevator once again studying the screen which read “Insert keycard.”
As he did, the door closed and the elevator began to move. The machine released his keycard and a new message blinked on screen, “In Case of Emergency Push Button.”
He had no reason to doubt help wouldn’t arrive swiftly having tested the button earlier.
The elevator stopped. The door opened. Across the hall in large letters he read OOOS with an arrow directing him left. As he steeped off, he realized he couldn’t have gone right had he wanted to, but he could see he was no higher than the second floor through the large plate glass window.
Thirteenth floor he thought, was she being cute? or inferring this might be the twilight zone?
“Hi,” a voice spoke behind him and he turned to see a young man extending his hand.
“You must be Mr. Clark Kent,” the man shook his hand firmly and continued, “The colonel will be with you momentarily. I’m Darren. I’ve been asked to escort you to the conference room. Shall we?”
As the two walked up the hall Darren continued to talk.
“We’ve undergone some changes recently, so it’s quite understandable how you got the Wong name,” he chuckled, Kent smiled, “Although we are headed up by the military, we do work with a number of civilian contractors. Some of our regulations and rules can be quite confusing. Don’t let it bother you, just relax and you’ll get the hang of it. Well, here we are,” he opened the door.
Stepping through the doorway Darren ushered him to a seat near the front, in the center of the room.
“Now, Mr. Kent…..”
“Darren, pardon me,” Kent spoke up, “My name is Kent Clarke. I’ve tried to explain this but no one seems to be listening. Clarke is my surname, you see.”
“Well, that’s quite understandable too,” Darren suggested, “people don’t often listen. They simply assume if you know who they are talking to, then they have it right. I apologize if I offended you, I promise to keep your little secret. Notice I’m in civilian clothes myself and after 13 years I still get called mister. Go figure. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Well, I am wondering,” Kent said, “What exactly is OOOS?”
“Ah, the colonel loves to his little explanation on this. But in short, OOOS stands for the Office of Official Secrets. If I tell you more it would be unfair to the colonel. You understand?”
“Whoops! I’ve got a meeting in five,” Darren announced as he looked at his watch, “I’m going to leave you now and don’t worry, the colonel will be with you shortly. These people are prompt. I would advise you to not wander the halls, just make yourself comfortable. Pleasure meeting you.”
And with that, Darren closed the door.
Part VI
Kent now surveyed his surroundings. The room looked quite like a classroom with a podium, chalkboard, easel, and television. He looked at the banquet tables lined perfectly with each chair in place. He wondered if there was ever an occasion when this room was full. Then the door opened.
“Atten-hut!” screamed the young man dressed in military garb as he entered and came to attention just inside the door.
Startled, Kent rose and watched as a short, stocky, balding man quickly strode in and went directly to the podium.
“At ease, gentleman,” he spoke directly into the microphone and waited until Kent was seated to continue.
“Good morning…uh, hello?.....Can you hear me?” he looked at Kent.
“Yes, very well, sir.”
“Is this thing on?” he tapped the mike a few times.
“I don’t think so colonel,” Kent replied, “but I hear you just fine.”
“Well, looks like we’ll have to this the old fashioned way. Airman!”
“Yes sir?”
“Get me a bullhorn.”
“Yes sir!”
“Uh….pardon me, colonel,” Kent raised his hand half mast, “Due to the nature of the matter at hand, would it not be possible, since there is no one else present, to have a confidential meeting?” He motioned to emphasize the room was empty except for the two of them.
This guy is a freaking nut, he thought, they are all freaking nuts.
Sometime I think Mai is a nut. Mai is not at a nut compared to these nuts. No, Mai is perfectly sane. I’m perfectly sane, a little abnormal perhaps, but these people are abnormal nuts. Somewhere there is a difference.
“Well,” the colonel sighed, “I’m glad you suggested that. I hate giving these speeches.”
“I’m Colonel Wright,” he made his way to the table and seated himself opposite, “Now what is it I can do for you?”
“I was hoping you could tell me, sir. I received this,” he laid the note before the nut.
“Ah, Colonel Wong was transferred,” he started, “What is your profession, Mr, uh…”
“I’m a media consultant colonel. My name is Kent Clarke.”
“A media consultant, that’s a good one,” the colonel snickered, “Oh, that is rich; brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. How truly brilliant we are sometimes.”
“Here is the colonel’s bullhorn, sir.” The young airman returned object in hand.
“Well, that won’t be necessary, airman. But I will need the courier package.”
“Yes sir.” The airman left the room again.
“The courier package?” Kent inquired of the nut giving orders.
“Yes, indeed, Mr. Kent,” the brilliant claiming nut nodded, “I don’t know how much you know about OOOS but we are the Office of Official Secrets. That is government secrets. You should know there are many secrets in this country. Unofficial secrets, off the record secrets, under the radar secrets, over the top secrets, secret secrets….you name it there is an office that deals with it, but THIS office, only deals with OFFICIAL secrets.”
“I see.”
“I have to tell you this is a very brave, patriotic thing you are doing for this country. Why, at this very moment we are facing the direst of dire consequences; we have rogue nations, I don’t have to mention who they are, that would like to see this great beacon of freedom and liberty thrown to the ground and crushed like yesterday’s beer can. But we, you and me, and patriotic people of like mind, can’t let that happen. Can we?”
Colonel Wright was pounding home his points with his clinched fists pounding the table.
Kent had never considered himself an extremely patriotic person. Of course, he’s never burnt a flag either, but at the moment he could only agree that this man was a nut. If he’d ever met a nut, he was sure this was one. Stomped like yesterday’s beer can, he thought.
“I suppose you are right,” he nodded.
Returning with a briefcase, the airman placed it on the table in front of the colonel.
“Now, Mr. Kent, what do you think this is?” he motioned to the briefcase.
“I would say…..a briefcase?”
“It appears to be a briefcase Mr. Kent, but this is what we at OOOS call a massive information transferal packet.
“Mr. Kent, I’m told these are waterproof, fireproof, bombproof; almost indestructible. Of course, I’ve never struck one with a sledgehammer, only due to the governmental offset it would cost, but the information that is sealed in this massive information transferal packet, is virtually indestructible.
Definitely this man is a nut, he thought.
“Now what I need you to do; what your country has called you to do; what this free nation is asking you to do is to take this vital information and place it in the hands of one of our agents whose very life, limb, and liberty depend on having it available. You would do that for your fellow man, and for your country, wouldn’t you?”
“But before you answer, let me explain what’s in it for you. How does ten thousand dollars cash sound?”
Kent was listening with real interest now, even if the man was a nut. Yes, he could see doing something patriotic for ten grand. Oh yes.
“And we pay your expenses too. What do you think?”
“Well,” Kent hesitated as if thinking, “I suppose I can’t say no to my country’s calling and God knows I would feel terrible if I didn’t do my best to see that that agent who might need this information didn’t get it.”
“That’s what I thought,” Colonel Wright opened the massive informational transferal packet.
“I have a special clearance,” he removed a folder, flipped it open and read, “and I think having that clearance it entitles me to allow you to see what information you will be entrusted with.”
He slid a piece of paper across the table. Kent picked it up.
“Now let me warn you, I wouldn’t read past the second paragraph if I weren’t willing to complete this mission.”
Kent looked at the paper. It was blank. He flipped it over. It was blank. Only special nuts can read this he assured himself. And I can’t read it. That alone proves I’m sane.
“Will you accept this, Mr. Kent? Will you act as our courier in this very urgent and sensitive matter, assuring this packet gets in the hands of the patriot who needs it in the direst of dire times in the history of this nation?”
Kent looked at the paper, flipped it, and looked again. He saw no secret. He saw nothing. This was a freaking blank piece of paper!
And for this, he would get ten grand and expenses? This is nuts, he thought.
“Sure,” He said in disbelief.
“Airman, did you bring the in-house transfer packet?”
Without a word the airman placed a manila envelope before them. The colonel opened it.
He slipped on latex gloves, carefully folded the blank paper twice, and placed it in a zip lock bag. He then folded the zip lock in half and slid it inside a plain white #10 envelope. Lastly, he made a large “X” across the seams.
Nuts, Kent thought, they are all freaking nuts.
“Airman, notify disbursing I’ll be sending Mr. Kent to them momentarily.”
“I am going to have to ask you to sign for this information Mr. Kent. As you can attest, as I will, it has been waterproofed and fireproofed…..”
“Why didn’t you just toss it in the massive information transferal packet?” Kent asked.
“Oh, well we don’t use massive information transferal packets for singular information transferal. Massive information entails a quarter of a million dollars or more. Singular information is what we have here.” He held up the envelope.
“Are you sure is fireproofed?”
“I would say so. Unless you plan on putting a match to it.”
“I see. Very well, I promise not to put a match to it.” Kent assured Colonel Wright.
“Good, if you’ll just sign here, and here,” flipping the page, “and here.”
“Very good. And one more thing, sometime in the near future you’ll be contacted with delivery details. The codeword, don’t write this down, is: Milk Dud. When contact is made, immediately call this number.” The colonel handed him a card and the envelope.
Kent looked at it and placed it, and the envelope, in his breast pocket. I can look forward to a nut in my future? How truly brilliant that would be. As if I can never meet enough nuts.
Darren now appeared in the doorway.
“Well, Mr. Kent, it was a pleasure meeting you. I wish you all the luck in the word. And I should tell you if you are caught, or captured, tough stuff,” The colonel laughed, but Kent didn’t get the joke, “Mr. Darren will show you out.”
The pair shook hands and Kent left the room with Darren.
“I see you are a part of the team now. Don’t let that caught, or captured stuff bother you, it was a joke. Okay, so you are headed to disbursing, right? Easiest way is when you leave the elevator make a left and the first right. You can’t miss it. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Clarke. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Pleasure was mine Darren.” Kent shook hands then placed the keycard in the panel.
Kent now surveyed his surroundings. The room looked quite like a classroom with a podium, chalkboard, easel, and television. He looked at the banquet tables lined perfectly with each chair in place. He wondered if there was ever an occasion when this room was full. Then the door opened.
“Atten-hut!” screamed the young man dressed in military garb as he entered and came to attention just inside the door.
Startled, Kent rose and watched as a short, stocky, balding man quickly strode in and went directly to the podium.
“At ease, gentleman,” he spoke directly into the microphone and waited until Kent was seated to continue.
“Good morning…uh, hello?.....Can you hear me?” he looked at Kent.
“Yes, very well, sir.”
“Is this thing on?” he tapped the mike a few times.
“I don’t think so colonel,” Kent replied, “but I hear you just fine.”
“Well, looks like we’ll have to this the old fashioned way. Airman!”
“Yes sir?”
“Get me a bullhorn.”
“Yes sir!”
“Uh….pardon me, colonel,” Kent raised his hand half mast, “Due to the nature of the matter at hand, would it not be possible, since there is no one else present, to have a confidential meeting?” He motioned to emphasize the room was empty except for the two of them.
This guy is a freaking nut, he thought, they are all freaking nuts.
Sometime I think Mai is a nut. Mai is not at a nut compared to these nuts. No, Mai is perfectly sane. I’m perfectly sane, a little abnormal perhaps, but these people are abnormal nuts. Somewhere there is a difference.
“Well,” the colonel sighed, “I’m glad you suggested that. I hate giving these speeches.”
“I’m Colonel Wright,” he made his way to the table and seated himself opposite, “Now what is it I can do for you?”
“I was hoping you could tell me, sir. I received this,” he laid the note before the nut.
“Ah, Colonel Wong was transferred,” he started, “What is your profession, Mr, uh…”
“I’m a media consultant colonel. My name is Kent Clarke.”
“A media consultant, that’s a good one,” the colonel snickered, “Oh, that is rich; brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. How truly brilliant we are sometimes.”
“Here is the colonel’s bullhorn, sir.” The young airman returned object in hand.
“Well, that won’t be necessary, airman. But I will need the courier package.”
“Yes sir.” The airman left the room again.
“The courier package?” Kent inquired of the nut giving orders.
“Yes, indeed, Mr. Kent,” the brilliant claiming nut nodded, “I don’t know how much you know about OOOS but we are the Office of Official Secrets. That is government secrets. You should know there are many secrets in this country. Unofficial secrets, off the record secrets, under the radar secrets, over the top secrets, secret secrets….you name it there is an office that deals with it, but THIS office, only deals with OFFICIAL secrets.”
“I see.”
“I have to tell you this is a very brave, patriotic thing you are doing for this country. Why, at this very moment we are facing the direst of dire consequences; we have rogue nations, I don’t have to mention who they are, that would like to see this great beacon of freedom and liberty thrown to the ground and crushed like yesterday’s beer can. But we, you and me, and patriotic people of like mind, can’t let that happen. Can we?”
Colonel Wright was pounding home his points with his clinched fists pounding the table.
Kent had never considered himself an extremely patriotic person. Of course, he’s never burnt a flag either, but at the moment he could only agree that this man was a nut. If he’d ever met a nut, he was sure this was one. Stomped like yesterday’s beer can, he thought.
“I suppose you are right,” he nodded.
Returning with a briefcase, the airman placed it on the table in front of the colonel.
“Now, Mr. Kent, what do you think this is?” he motioned to the briefcase.
“I would say…..a briefcase?”
“It appears to be a briefcase Mr. Kent, but this is what we at OOOS call a massive information transferal packet.
“Mr. Kent, I’m told these are waterproof, fireproof, bombproof; almost indestructible. Of course, I’ve never struck one with a sledgehammer, only due to the governmental offset it would cost, but the information that is sealed in this massive information transferal packet, is virtually indestructible.
Definitely this man is a nut, he thought.
“Now what I need you to do; what your country has called you to do; what this free nation is asking you to do is to take this vital information and place it in the hands of one of our agents whose very life, limb, and liberty depend on having it available. You would do that for your fellow man, and for your country, wouldn’t you?”
“But before you answer, let me explain what’s in it for you. How does ten thousand dollars cash sound?”
Kent was listening with real interest now, even if the man was a nut. Yes, he could see doing something patriotic for ten grand. Oh yes.
“And we pay your expenses too. What do you think?”
“Well,” Kent hesitated as if thinking, “I suppose I can’t say no to my country’s calling and God knows I would feel terrible if I didn’t do my best to see that that agent who might need this information didn’t get it.”
“That’s what I thought,” Colonel Wright opened the massive informational transferal packet.
“I have a special clearance,” he removed a folder, flipped it open and read, “and I think having that clearance it entitles me to allow you to see what information you will be entrusted with.”
He slid a piece of paper across the table. Kent picked it up.
“Now let me warn you, I wouldn’t read past the second paragraph if I weren’t willing to complete this mission.”
Kent looked at the paper. It was blank. He flipped it over. It was blank. Only special nuts can read this he assured himself. And I can’t read it. That alone proves I’m sane.
“Will you accept this, Mr. Kent? Will you act as our courier in this very urgent and sensitive matter, assuring this packet gets in the hands of the patriot who needs it in the direst of dire times in the history of this nation?”
Kent looked at the paper, flipped it, and looked again. He saw no secret. He saw nothing. This was a freaking blank piece of paper!
And for this, he would get ten grand and expenses? This is nuts, he thought.
“Sure,” He said in disbelief.
“Airman, did you bring the in-house transfer packet?”
Without a word the airman placed a manila envelope before them. The colonel opened it.
He slipped on latex gloves, carefully folded the blank paper twice, and placed it in a zip lock bag. He then folded the zip lock in half and slid it inside a plain white #10 envelope. Lastly, he made a large “X” across the seams.
Nuts, Kent thought, they are all freaking nuts.
“Airman, notify disbursing I’ll be sending Mr. Kent to them momentarily.”
“I am going to have to ask you to sign for this information Mr. Kent. As you can attest, as I will, it has been waterproofed and fireproofed…..”
“Why didn’t you just toss it in the massive information transferal packet?” Kent asked.
“Oh, well we don’t use massive information transferal packets for singular information transferal. Massive information entails a quarter of a million dollars or more. Singular information is what we have here.” He held up the envelope.
“Are you sure is fireproofed?”
“I would say so. Unless you plan on putting a match to it.”
“I see. Very well, I promise not to put a match to it.” Kent assured Colonel Wright.
“Good, if you’ll just sign here, and here,” flipping the page, “and here.”
“Very good. And one more thing, sometime in the near future you’ll be contacted with delivery details. The codeword, don’t write this down, is: Milk Dud. When contact is made, immediately call this number.” The colonel handed him a card and the envelope.
Kent looked at it and placed it, and the envelope, in his breast pocket. I can look forward to a nut in my future? How truly brilliant that would be. As if I can never meet enough nuts.
Darren now appeared in the doorway.
“Well, Mr. Kent, it was a pleasure meeting you. I wish you all the luck in the word. And I should tell you if you are caught, or captured, tough stuff,” The colonel laughed, but Kent didn’t get the joke, “Mr. Darren will show you out.”
The pair shook hands and Kent left the room with Darren.
“I see you are a part of the team now. Don’t let that caught, or captured stuff bother you, it was a joke. Okay, so you are headed to disbursing, right? Easiest way is when you leave the elevator make a left and the first right. You can’t miss it. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Clarke. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Pleasure was mine Darren.” Kent shook hands then placed the keycard in the panel.
Part VII
The doors closed; the elevator began its descent and Kent wondered what he had gotten himself into this time. They are all freaking nuts. Everything about this Monday had been strange, but so many nuts in one place? He wondered where the tree was.
The receptionist, Mike and Ike, Darren, the blank message in the zip lock bag and envelope, that singular information transferal packet that was both waterproof and fireproof? He hoped the money was real, but knew the people were all nuts.
Going back the way he had come he turned at the first right, which put him right where he had began this morning in front of the woman with the navy blue dress dotted with those small polka dots and gorgeous legs.
Rather than just walking straight to the counter, he thought about walking straight out the building, but decided she was a gorgeous nut. Still, there was a rule. So he entered where the ‘Enter Here’ sign was, and stopped where the sign said ‘Please Wait To Be Called.’
Blues eyes looked puzzled at this. She curled her index finger in is direction calling him.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“Well, I thought……,” the moment he said it, he knew ‘thought’ was the wrong word.
“That is for visitors only. Anyone coming from inside the building is not to enter that area. Now take a seat in my office,” She clicked the hidden button.
She was waiting as he closed the door and seated himself at the little counter.
“First things first,” she said, “Do you have the keycard?”
He handed over the keycard and collected his keycard deposit.
“Oh, and here’s your drivers license, your badge, and,” she handed him an envelope; “I’ve calculated the expenses and added them to the transferal fee. Sign here.”
“You now have your badge, your license, your pay, and your assignment. But you’ll need one other thing.”
“And what would that be?”
“A passport. Here you are.”
“Well,” Kent slid it in his pocket, “Thank you Ms…?”
“Sara Lee.” She smiled. “Now when you exit that door, proceed right. Down that hall is the cafeteria.”
“Why? I was thi…..” He caught himself, no thinking this time, “I was planning on stopping for lunch on my way back to the office.”
“Well, in that case,” Sara Lee looked at the numbers, “You’ll owe the government $27.92.”
“What? What is the government offsetting this time?”
“Well, I took the liberty of adding a business lunch to your expenses.”
“A business lunch? Wouldn’t that take more than one person?” Kent looked around to prove there was only one of him.
“I’m delighted you asked,” said Ms Sarah Lee, “Certainly I’ll join you for lunch.”
Lunch with a nut could be interesting he thought.
She pressed another of her secret buttons and a roll metal door slid down across the reception area.
As they walked down the hall together, Mike and Ike overheard her say, “And don’t bother with the Reuben today. I had it Friday. Once a week is enough for some things.”
The doors closed; the elevator began its descent and Kent wondered what he had gotten himself into this time. They are all freaking nuts. Everything about this Monday had been strange, but so many nuts in one place? He wondered where the tree was.
The receptionist, Mike and Ike, Darren, the blank message in the zip lock bag and envelope, that singular information transferal packet that was both waterproof and fireproof? He hoped the money was real, but knew the people were all nuts.
Going back the way he had come he turned at the first right, which put him right where he had began this morning in front of the woman with the navy blue dress dotted with those small polka dots and gorgeous legs.
Rather than just walking straight to the counter, he thought about walking straight out the building, but decided she was a gorgeous nut. Still, there was a rule. So he entered where the ‘Enter Here’ sign was, and stopped where the sign said ‘Please Wait To Be Called.’
Blues eyes looked puzzled at this. She curled her index finger in is direction calling him.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“Well, I thought……,” the moment he said it, he knew ‘thought’ was the wrong word.
“That is for visitors only. Anyone coming from inside the building is not to enter that area. Now take a seat in my office,” She clicked the hidden button.
She was waiting as he closed the door and seated himself at the little counter.
“First things first,” she said, “Do you have the keycard?”
He handed over the keycard and collected his keycard deposit.
“Oh, and here’s your drivers license, your badge, and,” she handed him an envelope; “I’ve calculated the expenses and added them to the transferal fee. Sign here.”
“You now have your badge, your license, your pay, and your assignment. But you’ll need one other thing.”
“And what would that be?”
“A passport. Here you are.”
“Well,” Kent slid it in his pocket, “Thank you Ms…?”
“Sara Lee.” She smiled. “Now when you exit that door, proceed right. Down that hall is the cafeteria.”
“Why? I was thi…..” He caught himself, no thinking this time, “I was planning on stopping for lunch on my way back to the office.”
“Well, in that case,” Sara Lee looked at the numbers, “You’ll owe the government $27.92.”
“What? What is the government offsetting this time?”
“Well, I took the liberty of adding a business lunch to your expenses.”
“A business lunch? Wouldn’t that take more than one person?” Kent looked around to prove there was only one of him.
“I’m delighted you asked,” said Ms Sarah Lee, “Certainly I’ll join you for lunch.”
Lunch with a nut could be interesting he thought.
She pressed another of her secret buttons and a roll metal door slid down across the reception area.
As they walked down the hall together, Mike and Ike overheard her say, “And don’t bother with the Reuben today. I had it Friday. Once a week is enough for some things.”
Part VIII
“Well, good afternoon. I’m glad you could join us,” Mai began as he entered the office, “It is still early, just a little after four, but who looks at the clock?”
“It was a long meeting and I had lunch Mai.” Kent sat down in the chair across from her.
“I had cabbage rolls. What did you have?”
“Cabbage rolls?” he shook with a grimace, “Is that food? I can see a good baked potato maybe, a salad, with croutons, strawberries and whipped cream….”
“Okay, wise guy,” she strung it out to get his attention.
“Have you ever heard of Animal House?”
“The Movie?”
“No, the book.”
“Did they make the movie from the book?”
“I don’t know. Did the movie have a talking pig?”
Mai realized when he stood up, walked to his office, and slammed the door he wasn’t joking. Well, she thought, this might not be the right time.
With a sigh she proceeded down the hall, “Look, I was trying to…”
“No worry,” Kent unloaded his pockets on the desk, “I had lunch with a nut. My meting was with a nut. I don’t think there was a sane person in that place.
Mae picked up the passport and flipped it open.
“Going somewhere……..Gil Li Gan?” She laughed showing the inside.
He pinched bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and began a small laugh, a good laugh. Looking up at Mai he shook his head.
“You wouldn’t believe that place Mai,” he paused not knowing where to start, what to say, and wasn’t sure he should say anything at all. It was Mai’s turn to sit.
“The receptionist is Sara Lee, security is handled by Mike and Ike,” he was noting these highlights on each finger as he watched Mai, “Colonel Wong is wrong, and the name if Wright. And they have rules, lots of rules. Oh, and they think my name is Clark Kent!”
“Well,” looks like they think your name if Gil Lee Gan,” she held up the passport and held back her laughter with her palm.
His head tilted and he smiled, “Well, if you think that is funny, what would you think,” he pushed the thick envelope toward her, “If I told you they paid in cash?”
Her brows furrowed and she pointed at it. He nodded. And she picked it dropping the passport back on the desk.
“How much?”
“Oh, a minor amount of ten grand plus expenses.”
“Where did you get this?”
“From a cute blonde with a navy blue dress splattered with small polka dots who I had lunch with. She’s a freaking nut Mai. They are all freaking nuts!”
“There’s twelve thousand, four hundred here.” She looked puzzled.
“What are we doing for this Colonel?”
“Glad you asked. This is the best part.” Kent picked up the envelope with the big red X across the seal.
“See this Mai?” He turned it over as he spoke, “This is a singular information transferal package as opposed to a massive information transferal packet. In this fireproof envelope, which is fireproof as long as you don’t put a match to it, there is a waterproofing device we call a freaking zip lock bag containing, I kid you not, one freaking BLANK piece of paper!”
“Now sweet Mai,” Kent leaned forward as if what he was about to say was confidential, “In the next few day as I am to be contacted, by a nut I don’t know; when, I don’t know; where, I don’t know; but when this nut makes contact I am to call this nut for delivery instructions.”
Mai made several attempts to say something, and found herself flouncing her arms in the air helplessly.
“You make a terrible Chinese person,” she finally said.
Kent laughed, “You…..asshole.”
“The red hair gives me away, right?”
“No,” she looked amused and relaxed, “You don’t eat cabbage rolls.”
He laughed again. Damn, he loved it. She could make him laugh like no one else just being herself. He took a deep breath for the first time today and sat and looked at her.
Ten years together, if work relations counted as relationships, and she still made him laugh. Never without a quick comeback, Mai, opted for the humor in the worst of everything.
“What are you thinking?”
“I….ummm,” he stumbled, remembering thinking was a bad word where he had just came from, “thinking I’m too tired to think.”
She pulled a few bills out holding them up, “Women always need new shoes.”
“What do you….think Mai?”
“You really don’t feel good about this, do you?”
“No.”
“You don’t expect anything to come of it?”
“Mai, I’m convinced they are nuts, free nuts, but nuts. And for some nutty reason they picked me, for my name, or whatever excuse a nut would have, for…….a nuts only joke, who knows? They are just nuts.”
“Okay. We’ll make a file.”
She collected everything from on the desk, “Okay. Once this done, I’m going home.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be in the office at nine.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not coming to wake you tomorrow.”
“No?”
“No. Confucius say, “Man who have lunch with nut, may fall from same tree.”
“But Freud said Irish is one people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.”
“Well, good afternoon. I’m glad you could join us,” Mai began as he entered the office, “It is still early, just a little after four, but who looks at the clock?”
“It was a long meeting and I had lunch Mai.” Kent sat down in the chair across from her.
“I had cabbage rolls. What did you have?”
“Cabbage rolls?” he shook with a grimace, “Is that food? I can see a good baked potato maybe, a salad, with croutons, strawberries and whipped cream….”
“Okay, wise guy,” she strung it out to get his attention.
“Have you ever heard of Animal House?”
“The Movie?”
“No, the book.”
“Did they make the movie from the book?”
“I don’t know. Did the movie have a talking pig?”
Mai realized when he stood up, walked to his office, and slammed the door he wasn’t joking. Well, she thought, this might not be the right time.
With a sigh she proceeded down the hall, “Look, I was trying to…”
“No worry,” Kent unloaded his pockets on the desk, “I had lunch with a nut. My meting was with a nut. I don’t think there was a sane person in that place.
Mae picked up the passport and flipped it open.
“Going somewhere……..Gil Li Gan?” She laughed showing the inside.
He pinched bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and began a small laugh, a good laugh. Looking up at Mai he shook his head.
“You wouldn’t believe that place Mai,” he paused not knowing where to start, what to say, and wasn’t sure he should say anything at all. It was Mai’s turn to sit.
“The receptionist is Sara Lee, security is handled by Mike and Ike,” he was noting these highlights on each finger as he watched Mai, “Colonel Wong is wrong, and the name if Wright. And they have rules, lots of rules. Oh, and they think my name is Clark Kent!”
“Well,” looks like they think your name if Gil Lee Gan,” she held up the passport and held back her laughter with her palm.
His head tilted and he smiled, “Well, if you think that is funny, what would you think,” he pushed the thick envelope toward her, “If I told you they paid in cash?”
Her brows furrowed and she pointed at it. He nodded. And she picked it dropping the passport back on the desk.
“How much?”
“Oh, a minor amount of ten grand plus expenses.”
“Where did you get this?”
“From a cute blonde with a navy blue dress splattered with small polka dots who I had lunch with. She’s a freaking nut Mai. They are all freaking nuts!”
“There’s twelve thousand, four hundred here.” She looked puzzled.
“What are we doing for this Colonel?”
“Glad you asked. This is the best part.” Kent picked up the envelope with the big red X across the seal.
“See this Mai?” He turned it over as he spoke, “This is a singular information transferal package as opposed to a massive information transferal packet. In this fireproof envelope, which is fireproof as long as you don’t put a match to it, there is a waterproofing device we call a freaking zip lock bag containing, I kid you not, one freaking BLANK piece of paper!”
“Now sweet Mai,” Kent leaned forward as if what he was about to say was confidential, “In the next few day as I am to be contacted, by a nut I don’t know; when, I don’t know; where, I don’t know; but when this nut makes contact I am to call this nut for delivery instructions.”
Mai made several attempts to say something, and found herself flouncing her arms in the air helplessly.
“You make a terrible Chinese person,” she finally said.
Kent laughed, “You…..asshole.”
“The red hair gives me away, right?”
“No,” she looked amused and relaxed, “You don’t eat cabbage rolls.”
He laughed again. Damn, he loved it. She could make him laugh like no one else just being herself. He took a deep breath for the first time today and sat and looked at her.
Ten years together, if work relations counted as relationships, and she still made him laugh. Never without a quick comeback, Mai, opted for the humor in the worst of everything.
“What are you thinking?”
“I….ummm,” he stumbled, remembering thinking was a bad word where he had just came from, “thinking I’m too tired to think.”
She pulled a few bills out holding them up, “Women always need new shoes.”
“What do you….think Mai?”
“You really don’t feel good about this, do you?”
“No.”
“You don’t expect anything to come of it?”
“Mai, I’m convinced they are nuts, free nuts, but nuts. And for some nutty reason they picked me, for my name, or whatever excuse a nut would have, for…….a nuts only joke, who knows? They are just nuts.”
“Okay. We’ll make a file.”
She collected everything from on the desk, “Okay. Once this done, I’m going home.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be in the office at nine.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not coming to wake you tomorrow.”
“No?”
“No. Confucius say, “Man who have lunch with nut, may fall from same tree.”
“But Freud said Irish is one people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.”
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