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.
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