Between a Rock and a Hard Place..............

It's been a slow week. Well......that's not entirely true. I've been slow about getting on with things. I have some excuses. Family matters, the weather, other things I work on. But the bottom line is that these are just excuses. The real reason is where I find myself now, in relation to Doyle and Gordon.

This past Tuesday morning, I drove up into Iselin. It's a small community that's wedged in between Woodbridge proper, Colonia, and Edison. I pass through it a lot, and I have to admit that I'm not really sure where Colonia stops off and Iselin begins. I may even have staged a few Events here before. They do have a branch library and a used book store that I drop by from time to time.

They also have a Catholic school - St. Cecelia's - which was closed after the last school year. They have a very strong sports program which the community intends to continue, but attendance has dropped off drasticall, as is the case in so many other parochial schools. Now the building sits vacant, looming over the intersection of Green Street, Route 27, and Oak Tree Road in an area known locally as Little India.

I drove around the back. That's where I came up behind this guy.

It was quiet back here. I imagine that was why he walked here. It was what I was hoping for when I came this way. There was no one else around.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove up into Edison.
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This morning, I was up earlier then usual. I've mentioned before that my routine is different on Sundays, but the mass I attend wouldn't start until 8 and it was only 6:30. I took a leisurely drive through Sewaren, a section of Woodbridge that runs along the Raritan Bay. At this time of the morning, everyone who's up is out on the bay fishing. Well, almost everyone. I saw this guy just before I turned off Woodbridge Avenue. He wasn't carrying any fishing gear so I guessed he was just out for a walk.

I slowed, and reached him just as he came up beside a row of hedges. He never looked my way. No one else did either.

Point, press, Flash.

I headed for Avenel. I stopped to get the papers, then headed for St. Andrew's and the morning mass.

I had breakfast at Denny's, again. I've developed a taste for their Southwestern Skillet. A bit on the spicy side, but really good.

I stopped at Wegman's, bought some things for lunch and supper, then headed home.

Now I'm sitting here trying - again - to work things out in my head.

Gordon came to me and attempted to explain himself. He's crazy, but he's smart too. And he blames Jones for the predicament he's in. I can understand his point. Jones' people tried to take me out last year (they blamed me for killing Givings when it was clearly an honest mistake). Jones and Smith came to an understanding of sorts, eventually. But I hadn't forgotten. I owed Jones for that.

And yet, Doyle has been there for me since Day 1. Sure, he recruited me (or set me up) but I believe that he's always been on my side, and has backed me up all along the line. I owe Doyle for that.

I should help Doyle get Gordon. I could do it. But Doyle had said that the Project would probably get shut down. What would happen to me? I trusted Doyle, but not Jones.

I still can't work it out. No matter how I look at it I'm stuck....

between a rock and a hard place.  

Surprises...................

Doyle called. I agreed to meet him at the Barnes & Noble store in the Menlo Park Mall at 9:00. What else could I do? Now I was worried. Did he know that Gordon had just paid me a visit? Had he waited a couple of days to see if I would notify him? Too many questions with no answers. I spent a sleepless night.

I was up early, and went to the 8:00 Mass. I usually get some comfort from there, but it didn't work today. Not only was I distracted by my upcoming meeting with Doyle, but a recent family tragedy left me questioning some things. And it didn't help that the pastor is on vacation and his substitute had an accent that was hard for me to follow. But it did go fast, and I was out in plenty of time to make the meeting.

Barnes & Noble's opens at 9:00 every day, but the mall doesn't open until 11:00 on Sundays. The parking lot was practically empty which, I assumed, would carry over into the store. As I approached the front door, I could see Doyle sitting at a window table in the cafe. He gave a little wave of acknowledgement.

Here goes nothing, I thought.

"So, Doyle, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I hoped I didn't sound different.
"Hiya, Denny. How goes it?" He held out his hand, and I took it.
"Sit" He gestured to the other chair at the table. He had a coffee in front of him.
"Sorry I didn't have anything for you, Denny. I know you've been having problems with that whole dehydration thing, so I figured caffeine was out of the question."

I don't know how he does it, but he always knows about my current physical condition.
"Thanks, Doyle. Yeah. I've been laying off lately. Does seem to be working though." I paused, glanced at the coffee counter, but changed my mind. "So, what's up? Anything new on the Gordon thing?"
"Nah. He seems to be striking during the heavy rains lately and has staged several Events around Freehold. We've got a team stationed down there now." He drank some coffee, "But that's not why I asked you here."
Nothing on Gordon? Maybe he pulled it off.

He grinned, sheepishly I thought. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it yesterday but I got tied up. Anyway, I wanted to wish you a Happy, belated, Birthday for last Tuesday and acknowledge a Third Anniversary for yesterday."
I'd forgotten that.
"Right. That's right. It's been 3 years since you got me involved in this thing. Thanks, Doyle." I hoped he'd pick up on the sarcasm.
He laughed. "No problem. And for the record, you do seem to have enjoyed yourself from time to time."
I couldn't disagree and, after a minute or two, I smiled and nodded.

"OK. So it hasn't been all bad. But you didn't have to go to the trouble of a personal meeting. You could've just sent a text."
"I know. But I don't get a chance to just hang out too often, so I chose to do this. I can't remember the last time I just sat and enjoyed a cup of coffee. I may even stay a while and leaf through some magazines."
"I gotta tell you that that's one of my pet peeves. People sitting here reading the magazines, then putting them back. I also don't like the people who come here to read a book and never pay for it. It's like stealing, you see?"
He looked at me over his coffee.
"I got ya. I promise to pay for any magazine I read." He looked at his watch. "Besides, the way things happen in this job, I probably wouldn't get the time to enjoy it."
Now it was my turn to understand, and I said nothing.

"Anyway, there's something else I wanted to tell you."
"Go ahead. I'm ready."
"there's been some scuttlebutt lately - you know..rumors..about the Project. Word is that once we bring in Gordon, Mr. Jones will be shutting it down."
Jones, huh. What about Smith? What does he think?"
"Mr. Smith is on vacation and I don't think rumors are a good reason to disturb him. He'll be back after Labor Day and I'll check in with him then."
There was a question I needed to ask.
"So...if you do catch Gordon and shut down the Project...what happens to me?"
"I knew you'd ask that. You'll have to give back the Flasher, of course, and sign a confidentiality agreement. After that, I figure you'll be left alone. Neither Mr. Jones nor the Department wants to get any more attention then necessary."
We lapsed into silence then. Each to his own thoughts. Then his phone sounded. As he answered it, I realized that I had the chance to tell Doyle about Gordon, but I knew I wouldn't. He closed his phone.
"Like I said, I won't get the time. I'm needed back at the office."
He finished his coffee and stood.
"See you around, Denny."
"Yeah. Take care, Doyle."
We shook hands, and he left, dropping his empty cup in a trash can.

I went upstairs to check out the graphic novel section. They haven't had anything that interested me in a long time, but I keep hoping. As I browsed, I noticed this guy sleeping in one of the nearby chairs.

It was only about 9:40, and the store was still empty. I moved around one of the shelving units till the window was behind me. There was no one around.

Point, press, Flash.

He didn't move at all.

I took the escalator down, and went out to my car. I stopped for a late breakfast at Denny's, then went home to read the Sunday papers.

It was a morning full of surprises.

Arc 9

Be Careful What You Wish For................

Last Thursday I took a drive down to Monmouth County. I stopped first at the Perkins in Hazlet and had breakfast. I hadn't been there in a while, but nothing has changed. It still looked just as it did when I used to take my daughter there on weekends. After breakfast, I drove to the Hazlet library. I parked in the overflow lot, just as I'd done the week before. This time, mine was the only car there. It was hot already.

There was nothing inside that caught my eye, so I went back to my car. As I got in, another car pulled into the lot. I lowered the windows and waited, pretending to check some messages on my phone. It didn't take long for him to get out.

I looked around. No one. He never looked in my direction.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove down to Middletown.
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Sometimes, things happen. This weekend, my family suffered an unexpected loss. The particulars have no bearing on these posts, but it had an impact on me. I spent the next several days mulling it over, trying to come to terms with it. Trying to find out a reason for it, an answer. Sadly, I couldn't.
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This morning, I was out very early running some errands. I bought some stuff at ShopRite, took them home, then drove towards Edison. I decided to go to their main library on Plainfield Avenue. I got there about 10:15 and pulled around back. As I drove through the lot, I saw this guy coming towards me from the far side.

The school behind him was empty and the back of the library has no windows. I pulled forward, checking the parked cars, watching for anyone else. No one was around. I slowed, and turned so that he was on my passenger side. By now he was close enough.

Point, press, Flash.

I skipped the library and headed for Metuchen. Nothing else happened.

I got home about 11:30. I live on the first floor, just to the left of the building's front door, which is a keyed entry. Like most people, I have 2 locks on my apartment door. I entered my hallway and immediately locked up (force of habit) then looked down at the floor to make sure the cat wasn't under my feet. That's when I heard....

"Please don't be alarmed, Mr. O'Neill, but I thought this would be the best way for us to meet. No one to interrupt us, you know."

I entered the living room. There was someone sitting in my chair.

"What the..? Who the hell are you? How'd you get in? If you're from Doyle, he better have a good reason for this."
He stood, and offered his hand. I glared at him.
"No, Mr. O'Neill..Denny, may I call you Denny? I'm not from Agent Doyle. Although I'm pretty sure he'd like to get his hands on me. I'm Art Gordon."
He lowered his hand. I continued to look at him. The only way to describe him was - average. Average height, average build, average coloring. His description could fit thousands of people. Just like me, I thought. Although he was wearing a PSE&G shirt, with an ID card hanging around his neck. I put down my packages.
OK. So you're Art Gordon. What do you want with me? How did you get in here?"
"Really, Denny. I found this shirt in one of the thrift stores you like, and it gave me the idea. I came in as a meter reader. People pay no attention to meter readers. As for the locks, well, you gotta admit they're not very good if an amateur like myself can pick them."

He moved over to the couch and motioned for me to sit in the chair.
"Getting in here was easy, and I'm pretty sure I can get out without your handlers seeing me, but I don't want to push my luck so I'll be quick."
"I don't understand why you're here. I mean, I thought we'd run into each other eventually, but I thought it would be outside somewhere."
"Too much risk. I know they have a tail on you. Probably to catch me. That's the way they think."
I paused, I needed to think, I wasn't prepared.
"Look, Denny, I came here so that I could explain myself. I'm sure that Agent Doyle has given you the party line about me, how I'm a psychopath, etc., and I think you should hear my side." He looked at me.

I did want to talk to him. I did want to know about him. I shrugged and sat down. He took a deep breath.

"I grew up an only child of dull parents in a dull, small town in Delaware. Even my name is dull - Art - not Arthur - just Art. The only thing interesting about me was that I was born with a bad heart. I was doomed to a dull life until, one day, I saw a TV show. The Wild, Wild West. I was overcome." He paused again, as if remembering. I thought his face looked flushed.
He continued. "But it wasn't the James West character that fascinated me. It was his partner - Artemus Gordon. Artemus Gordon! So much better then dull Art Gordon. Imagine that. Here was someone I could aspire to be. He was smart, charming, but most of all - he was inventive. He created all sorts of machines. He was a master of disguise. He was who I wanted to be."
"But he wasn't real."
"I know that. In real life, I was Art Gordon, a dull guy. But in my private life, I could be Artemus Gordon. I could become an inventive genius, a master of disguise. I applied myself, and now I have a Masters in Mechanical Engineering, and had a dull job at a dull corporation. But in private, I learned how to create disguises, identities. During the day, I was Art Gordon, Project Manager. But at night, I would disguise myself, and Artemus Gordon would enjoy the nightlife. It was a perfect life, until......"
He trailed off, but I knew where he was headed.
"Until your heart problem worsened and you needed a transplant."
"Right. And I was all ready to leave it up to fate, but the DHS stepped in. They arranged the whole thing, but they didn't do such a great job on the background check. They never found out about my "other" life."
"So, you're saying that it's their fault that you've...you know..kinda gone a bit too far."
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. If they'd found out about my dual existence, they never would've let me into the Project. And, maybe, I wouldn't have gotten a heart but I'd be OK. But now I'm on disability and that has taken my engineering job out of the equation. I've become Artemus full-time. And I like it."
He grinned at me. I didn't know what to say.
"Well, Art - is Art OK? - Art, how are you doing on your meds? You must be on the same stuff I am, and I know Doyle has people watching the distribution."
"To be honest, I'm all out. Haven't had them for almost a year. But that's OK, cause I'm almost done."
"What do you mean..almost done?"

He sighed.
"I've done enough, Denny. Too much, maybe. I'm tired of it. And, I have to admit, I miss my dull, Art Gordon life. But I know I won't get that back."

He stood.
"I'm sorry for what I've done, and I can only think of one way to atone for my acts."
"You don't mean...kill yourself?"
"No. I'm gonna die from the rejection eventually so I thought I'd atone by making sure that the guy who did this to me never gets a chance to do it to anyone else."
"You mean Doyle?"
"No, Denny. Doyle was there to walk me through things, but it was Mr. Jones who approved my transplant. He's the one who's responsible for all that I have done. He's the one who has to pay."
It was my turn to pause. To try to process this.
"Why come here now? Why tell me this, Art?"
"Because I don't know if I'll have the time. If I'll get the chance. Look, they know that I've developed a method of blocking my signal so they can't track me, but they don't know what else I've created. Stuff I haven't used."
"OK, but why tell me?"
"I've made some arrangements. If anything happens to me before I can get to Mr. Jones things will be set in motion, and you'll have to make some decisions for yourself."
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"I have to go now, Denny. You'll have a choice to make after I leave. You can tell Agent Doyle about my being here, or not. If not, and you want to speak to me, open both windows in both bedrooms, instead of just one each. I'll come back. All I ask is that you don't try to set me up. I'm trusting you."

I thought about it, and I nodded agreement. If they were going to catch him, they would. But I wouldn't be the cause.
He put out his hand and this time I shook it. I let him out, and closed the door behind him. I didn't want to know how he left.

As I sat back in my chair I thought back on how I'd wanted to meet him.

Guess it's true, you gotta be careful what you wish for.

It's Not Just The Heat....................

I have to admit that this spate of heat, coupled with the humidity, is getting to me. There doesn't appear to be a break in the pattern, and the storms we've had - pretty heavy at times - haven't really helped. Except to increase the mosquito population.

I've kept to my routine, going out early each day, running errands, visiting libraries, watching for opportunities, and getting home before noon. I can then spend the rest of the day in a cooler environment.

Wednesday morning, I stopped by the Main Library in Woodbridge. I took the back way through several side streets and driving around the back of the high school. Pulling into the back lot, I noticed that there were no other cars around. I shrugged it off as being too early. When I got to the front door, I realized I was way too early - they open at 10 AM during August. Oh well. I went back to me car. As I headed out I passed this older woman getting out of her car.

Like I said, it was way too early.

Point, press, Flash.

I went for breakfast.

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Thursday morning, I stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for a bagel to go, and headed for Edison. I used to work at Middlesex County College, and thought I'd drive around through the apartment complexes near there. It didn't take long before I saw this guy.

He was wearing a slouch hat, with a towel around his neck, and was listening to music through head phones. He had no idea that any else was around.

There was no one else.... but me.

Point, press, Flash.

He slumped into the nearby yard as I passed.

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I don't usually look to stage Events on the weekend. There's just too many people around. But sometimes something presents itself. I was on my way to Wegman's, which is set off to the left of a small shopping area. It's all by itself and, from Main Street, is blocked by bushes. Bushes that need trimming. Trimming that, apparently, is done on a Saturday morning. One of the crew was on this side, all by himself.

I had enough time to check out the surrounding area. None of the other stores were open this early.

Point, press, Flash.

I stopped at Wegman's and bought a 12 pack of ginger ale.

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The rest of the weekend was quiet, and I headed out early on Monday. I drove through Metuchen and took back streets up to St. Joseph's. I've been wanted to check out the grounds so I drove through. As I rounded one of the buildings, I came on this guy trimming the shrubbery.

There was no one with him. No one walking around. No other cars.

Point, press, Flash.

I headed back into Metuchen proper.

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This morning, I was out even earlier. I had a plumber coming at 9 AM to unclog my kitchen sink and I was afraid it might turn into an all day process, based on the kind of people my landlord usually hires. I had a couple of errands to run and I knew the supermarket and the post office lobby were open. Driving through the back streets of Avenel, I saw this guy mowing his lawn. I didn't have a lot of time but I stopped across from him.

It looked like he was struggling with it.

Point, press, Flash.

I dropped off my bills at the post office and was home before the plumber showed up.
Surprisingly, he was a professional, and was done in about 1/2 an hour.

I stayed inside the rest of the day. Like I said, this weather's been getting to me.

And it's not just the heat, it's the humidity.