Little, Pink Flamingo.................

I spent Thursday through Sunday of last week in Avenel, house-sitting for a friend. I enjoy doing this - it's kind of like a mini-vacation for me. This time I got to experience what the season of Autumn can be like, all within a 4-day span. Thursday was gray and rainy - a damp, chill harbinger of winter. Friday was a glorious, bright, shiny day, though cool. Saturday was down-right cold, with a wind that made it colder and tried to tear what was left of the rust-colored leaves from the trees.. Sunday was almost an exact copy of Saturday but was redeemed by the fact that I was back home in the afternoon.

There is something to be said for being home. Comfortable. Familiar surroundings and routines push away any problems that exist outside my windows. I made some coffee (instant, decaf), turned on the game, and settled back in my recliner with the crossword puzzles from the Sunday papers. And, of course, ..

Givings called. I can't say I wasn't expecting it. It had been almost 3 weeks. She wanted to meet at the Menlo Park Mall (again) so we agreed on the Cafe in the Barnes and Noble store outside the mall.

The day came with blustery, gale force winds and capped itself by intermittent sleet. I got there early, as usual, and looked around inside. There's nothing I like better then browsing through a book store, but I have to admit the I don't like the concept of people lounging around, reading for free whatever book or magazine they decided to pick up, while they nurse a cup of overpriced coffee. But that's just me.

Twenty minutes in, and I got a text from Givings. There was a gas main leak on Route 1 which was affecting traffic on Route 27, and she was going to be at least another half hour. Somehow, I couldn't see Doyle ever being late for a meeting. He'd have been prepared for any eventuality.

I wasn't going to eat here at these prices, so I drove over to the McDonald's on Route 1 just east of the mall. Probably saved myself 5 bucks. As I was finishing, Givings texted that she'd arrived. I lingered over my coffee a little, letting her wait for me. I drove back. and found her at a table near the window, with a muffin and a cup of coffee. She started right in as I sat down.

"Sorry I'm late and I  don't have a lot of time because of this delay, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just listen and hold any questions till I'm done." She paused for my reaction, so I just nodded.
"The last time we met, we spoke about 'Random Tragedies', and how the People Upstairs wanted to try them as a means of increasing the number of people eliminated. I told you that we were waiting on their approval of a particular scenario I planned out that involves the Adams Tower building near you. Remember?"
Again, I nodded.
"Good. Approval has been received, and the plan is a 'Go' for tonight.."
"Tonight?" I held up my hand, surrendering to the fact that I promised not to interrupt.
"Yes. Tonight." She paused. I said nothing. "We have the permits, and the work has already begun, although you'd probably left before they started."

Again, a pause. I just looked perplexed, which wasn't hard.

"What we have planned is a water main leak on Martin Street, at the corner of Rahway Avenue, right near the Tower. A real one. Don't ask how. It started about 9 this morning, and we've already logged the call and have Middlesex Water on the site. They will shut off the water and dig into the ground on both sides of Martin, effectively closing the street. They will stretch out the work until around 8 tonight. We want you to go to the site just after dark, and see the policeman on duty. He will give you a small package and a map of the basement to the Tower. You will  take the package into the basement, place it where the map indicates, then return outside, give the map back to the cop and go home. Any questions?"
I took my time with this. She had rattled through that very quickly, looking at her watch a lot. In hindsight, I was being a little vindictive.

"Well?" She was anxious.
"I don't see the payoff. What kind of results are you looking for?"
"I'll explain that tomorrow, once we can ascertain that the package is in place and functional."
"You can't tell me anything now?"
"No. That's how the People Upstairs want this. They want to know that you can follow directions."
"Anyone could follow that. Anyway, how do I get in? What if I'm seen?"
"We think that the weather will keep people indoors, and it should be dark enough if you wear your black jacket with the hood. The door to the basement will be conveniently open, since the work crew will have to go in to check that the repairs worked."
I started to say something else, but she got up.
"I'm sorry, but I'm behind schedule. Just follow the instructions, and we'll discuss the rest tomorrow. Where would you like to meet?" A concession for her being late?
"Since you like it here, how about the chairs in front of Macy's on the lower level at 9?"
She nodded once, turned, and walked off.

I went back to my car. Just to the left of the drivers side, I found a small, rubber, flamingo that must've been hanging off someones rear view mirror for a while. The string was still attached, and you could see where it had snapped off. How it got here, I didn't know, but I picked it up, got in my car, and tossed it into the glove compartment.

I made it a point to pass Martin Street on my way home. The Water Department was out there, digging away. And the usual cop car was there. (Have you noticed that there's always a cop car around when there's work being done on a street. Why? Do they think we won't see the workers? That we'll run into them?)

...............................................................................................................................................................

It was getting dark by 5:45, so I put on my black, hooded jacket and walked up to Martin Street. The Water guys were busy digging away. As I got closer, I saw the cop notice me, and walk back to his car. When I got there, he handed me a package and an envelop.
"Don't you want to see some ID?"
"Won't be necessary. I'm part of the crew that keeps you under surveillance. Just follow the directions in the envelop. The door in is just over there, on the other side of the dumpster." He went back to doing whatever cops do at work sites like this.

Other then the work crew, there was no one else around. The door was open, and following the map and directions in the envelop, I mad my way to the boiler room in the sub-basement, opened an access panel in some duct work, and inserted the package. Per the instructions, I pulled a tab off the top of the package, closed up the duct, made my way out, and returned the envelop to the cop.

I walked home.

This morning the Water Company crew was gone. Givings was waiting for me, looking more relaxed then she did yesterday. I started the conversation.

"You're looking better today. Everything go OK last night?"
"Yes. Perfectly. You did well."
"What, exactly did I do?"
"You placed the package where it would have the most effect, and according to the technicians, it's operating perfectly."
"Alright, so what does it do?"
"It releases spores of Legionnaire's Disease which will be wafted up through the vents as the heat rises from the boiler, eventually reaching every room in the building."
"Legionnaire's Disease? Isn't that deadly?.... Never mind. Stupid question. What kind of results do you expect? When do you expect them?"
"That's hard to say. We don't control the distribution of heat in the building, that's done through individual thermostats in the apartments. We also don't know the physical condition of the occupants, although a good majority of them are elderly. We just have to wait, and allow for the incubation period to run its course, then monitor the residents." She looked pleased. I wasn't.
"You mean to tell me that the People Upstairs OK'd this plan? It could take days... no... weeks until there's any results. That doesn't sound like the kind of plan they would want. How did you convince them?"
"It wasn't me. Apparently, there is some dissension among the members, but they did agree, finally, to do this." She was getting huffy now. "We will wait, and you will be credited for each resident that falls victim to the illness. In the meantime, you still have the Flasher. Feel free to use it!" She stormed off before I could stop her.

I couldn't believe that The People Upstairs agreed to this.
It doesn't feel right.
It doesn't feel satisfying.
Where was the Instant Gratification we, as Americans, expect?

And, besides, what did I get out of it?

All I got was a little, pink flamingo.