Just Because You're Paranoid..............

It's been over 2 weeks since I spoke with Craig. Over 2 weeks since I've gotten anything besides mail in my mailbox. Over 2 weeks since paranoia kicked in - big time.

When I thought that it was Jones' people leaving me the messages, I wasn't really worried. After all, they were government people - they worked for DHS just like Craig, Doyle, Smith, etc. They just didn't agree with what we were doing with The Project.

 But, of course, it couldn't be them. They'd all been reassigned. There were top-priorities
now, involving real risks and needing experienced field operatives. There was no one to spare to follow me around.

So who did that leave?

According to Craig, the answer was - the subject from Delaware. The one chosen by Jones to participate in The Project. The one who they lost track of - even though he had an implanted tracker similar to mine. The one that Doyle said was probably a psychopath. Craig thought the subject - let's call him "Del", since it's easier - was probably using me to send DHS a message. Del was letting them know he was here, by following me around and commenting on my activities.

Oh Good...being followed around by a psycho. Paranoid much?

I go out every day - rain or shine, hot or cold. Something I've done ever since I recovered from the transplant. I used to enjoy it. Now...not so much. Driving around, I find myself watching the mirrors more intently. Looking over me shoulders everywhere I went. All the fun was gone.

I'd finally had enough yesterday. I was heading towards the Menlo Park Mall.

I started to think,  "Am I being followed now? Is he in the car directly behind me? Or in that white one?"

I couldn't even enjoy browsing at Barnes & Nobles. I found myself staring out the 2nd floor window at the parking lot.

Thinking, "Is h out there? Waiting for me? Is he here?"

"Is he one of these guys?"

I had it bad. And I knew that I had to get passed it.

I went home, left the TV off, and read through these entries from the beginning.

It was therapeutic. I remembered why I continued to do what I did, even though there was no insistence on it. I enjoyed it. And, after all, what did it matter if someone was watching me? He hadn't turned me in. He hadn't taken me out. If there's one thing I've learned it's that there's no sense worrying about something you have no control over. I would just start varying my routine more.

I went to bed and slept well. Until I was rudely awakened.

They've been working on the street outside my apartment. On one level, I understand it. They're putting in those handicap access corners on all the blocks around me, and they do the work early because it's been very hot. But...it's been too early in the morning for that much noise.

I couldn't sleep any longer so after my usual morning routine, I left my apartment to pick up some stuff. I drove to the next corner and found one of the workers replacing the street sign.

He wasn't paying any attention to me, so I just sat there watching him...and looking around. We were the only one's about. When he got down on his knees to work on the base, I took one more look around. Still no one.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove away, glancing in the rear view as he and the sign sagged to the right.

 Let's see what Del does with that, I thought.

I spent the next few hours picking up some food, having breakfast, and making my 6 month doctor's appointment. I was heading home when I decided to arbitrarily turn off Woodbridge Avenue into a development I'd never driven through before. I figured to go a few blocks, make a left, a few blocks, then another left, and I'd wind up back on Woodbridge. It was pretty quiet there. No one around, no other cars moving, until I saw him.

He seemed to be picking weeds out of his lawn. I drove completely around the block and approached him again, slowly. We were the only one's around.

Point, press, Flash.

I looked back when I reached the corner, and saw him lying there. I made my left and headed home.

I was feeling better about things, but I waited until late in the afternoon to check my mail. Nothing in the box.

Strangely, I felt a little disappointed.

Crazy Days of Summer.....

We're into July now, so the year's half over. My family has had a run of ceremonies so far that you might expect from an Irish Catholic clan. Personally, I've passed the 2 1/2 year mark for the transplant, and I'm coming up on my 60th birthday. All in all, everything is good.

We've had a great run of weather this last week and yesterday I decided to drive down to Monmouth County. My car has air conditioning, but I prefer what an old friend of mine used to call "260 AC" - 2 windows, 60 miles an hour. The radio doesn't work, but I have a small, portable one with ear buds and I found a station with some old rock, driving music.  Moving along and feeling good.

I stopped for breakfast in Hazlet, at a Perkins. I know, there's one near where I live, but I used to take my daughter here when we lived nearby. Good times.

I drove down Route 35 for a while just enjoying the day. When I decided to head home, I found myself passing Middletown, so I stopped at their library. I hadn't been here in a while. I noticed that the parking lot was relatively empty, but that may be because it was the Friday prior to the Fourth of July weekend.

You enter through an automatic door into a vestibule, then there's another automatic door into the library. To the left of the vestibule are the rest rooms and meeting rooms. To the right is a small alcove with a window. Seated in the window was an older man playing with his cell phone.

I entered the library and browsed the selection of books-for-sale that they have there. When I came out, I noticed that the guy was still sitting in the window. I turned in to the rest room area and watched him for a few minutes. I noticed that he had his phone plugged into the wall. This seemed odd to me. I keep a charger in the car but it uses the lighter. I never carry my home charger.

 No one came in or out while I was watching. I took out the Flasher. I hadn't used it since I'd gotten that weird note in the mail but now I had the itch.

I walked outside, waited a bit, then walked back in. No one else was around. I waited again near the rest rooms, but no one passed and the guy never looked up from his phone. Must've been browsing some web sites.

I stepped out, looking around. I could see the library desk through the doors, and there was no one there. I walked quickly toward the guy. Looked around again, then..

point, press, Flash..

and I exited the library. I walked back to my car, and sat there for about 10 minutes. No one came running out.

I headed home. Still feeling good.

I grabbed my mail on the way in. It looked like the usual assortment of ads, maybe with some extras due to the holiday. I was mistaken. When I sorted through it, I found brochures from the Middletown Library.

The same day!

I was getting worried. I sent a picture and a text to my contact number. I wanted to speak to someone right away.

About 20 minutes later, I got a message. Craig would meet me in the morning.

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

I drove over to the Menlo Park Mall early. I had agreed to meet Craig there at 8:30 in the Food Court, way before the stores opened. At that time, there shouldn't be many people about. Even the food shops don't open till 9.

I took the escalator up to the second floor and saw that Craig was there already. It looked like he was the only one there.

I took the seat across from him.
"Thanks for coming, Craig."
"No problem, Mr. O'Neill. It's my day off and I had no other plans."
"I didn't mean to ruin your day off.."
"It's OK. It would've been hard to work something out if I was on duty." He paused. "I understand You've been getting some threatening mail?" It sounded like a question.
"Not threatening, exactly, just..I don't know..strange."
"I heard about the Penney's note, and now you've gotten something else, right?"
I filled him in on everything - the Events at Penney's and the Middletown Library and the stuff I'd found in my mailbox both times.

"Look," I said, "Here's the stuff I got..the calendar note and the brochures. Maybe you can have someone look at them. I don't know..fingerprints, maybe." I handed him a plastic bag. "Mine are obviously on there. My fingerprints, I mean."
"I understand, Mr. O'Neill, but I can't promise anything. The project is off the table for now, so I'm going to have to have these tested on the sly. Fortunately, there are some agents that still feel they should thank you for the Givings situation." He chuckled, then went on. "I have to tell you that Mr. Jones and all of his associates - at least the ones we know about - are all accounted for. Since the Bin Laden kill, and with the 9/11 Anniversary coming up, the whole Department is on high alert. In fact, Mr. Jones is in Washington with Mr. Smith and the rest of the People Upstairs, and so is Agent Doyle."
"So, you're saying that we should rule them out?"
"At least for now, I would think."
"Then who does that leave?"

There was an awkward pause. I looked across at him, and he looked down at the plastic bad I'd given him. Finally, he looked up.

"Agent Doyle has a theory, though there isn't any proof."
"What is it?"
"What?"
"You know, the subject of our.."
"I know who you mean..I ..How? How does he know who I am? Where I live? What I look like?"

Another pause.

:We don't know. Agent Doyle theorizes that since the subject was chosen by Mr. Jones, that it's possible that Mr. Jones provided that information....We just don't know."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing. Agent Doyle believes that if he meant to harm you, he would have done so already. We think he's just having fun. That he's letting us know that he's still out there by toying with you. It makes some sort of sense."
"So, you're saying I have nothing to worry about?"
"No. Well, at least not right now. But you do need to be very attentive to where you are and who's around you. We will try to get you some information on the subject - background, a picture, something - but all of the Project files have been reclassified and locked down. It won't be easy."

"Can you at least tell me what he looks like?"
"Not from personal experience. Agent Doyle says he's an average person - average height, weight, etc. - that he blends in. Sort of like you."
Oh great. I just need to watch out for someone I wouldn't even notice. Just great."
It's the best we can do for now, Mr. O'Neill. I'll pass this on to Agent Doyle, and will be back in touch when I have some information."

He stood, and put out his hand. I shook it.

"Have a good weekend, Mr. O'Neill."

Oh, sure.