Children Laughing, People Passing.........

You know how, sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night and it's dark, and quiet, and for a moment you're disoriented - you don't know where you are. This has happened to me - several times - recently. And in those brief moments - that uncertainty - I think that I'm still in the hospital, before the operation, and that the last 3 years were all a dream. Then I roll over and see the redly glowing, digital time display on the cable box. And I can breathe again. And go back to sleep.
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It wasn't easy, at first, but I've kept myself in check this past month. This is not to say that I haven't been aggravated, haven't been tempted to use the Flasher. But I had resolved to control that impulse before my last meeting with Craig and I've held myself to it. There were so many instances...

- the drivers who cut me off, the speeders, and the too-slows;
- the shoppers who pushed me aside, or hit me with their carts, or didn't have their money ready;
- the people arguing too loudly on their cell phones, treating their waiters/waitresses badly, or just thinking they're better then everyone else.

I might have followed them - before - but not now. Now, I'm trying to let things go. Not hold them in. Not let them get to me. Not pay so much attention to individual people. It hasn't been easy, especially now that the Christmas season has started.

The weather has been kind of strange lately. It's been unseasonably warm until the last few days, and the damp rainy days we've had haven't helped to bring on the festive mood. But, I do what I can.

I like the Holidays... partly. It annoys me that the music and ads start earlier and earlier each year. But I can usually get that Christmasy feeling when shopping for presents (though I try to never go to the malls or big-box stores on weekends because of the crowds).

I got almost all of my shopping done early, so I'm only looking for one more thing, just not sure of what it will be. Today, I figured to check out the Menlo Park Mall early and got there just after the anchor stores opened, but before the smaller ones did. I figured on wandering through, window-shopping. It was not crowded.

The mall walkers were out, of course, and the employees for the smaller stores were arriving, or eating breakfast in the Food Court. There were some shoppers, and quite a few mothers with their kids in strollers - all dressed up for a picture with Santa.

I walked along the lower level first I was even enjoying the subtle sounds of the piped in carols. There was no pushing, no screaming, (the calm before the storm). I took one of the escalators up to the second level passing by the entrance to Macy's, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walk by.

There was no real reason to notice him, and yet...there was............ something. I stopped outside of Old Navy, and tried to figure it out. What was it?

Then it hit me...the jacket! I'd seen the jacket before. More probably, I'd seen the guy wearing that jacket before...and recently. But where? I couldn't remember.

I turned back. He wasn't in sight but the escalator was close by. I went to the railing and looked down. At the bottom of the escalator, I could see him looking up as if searching for someone. He was wearing a baseball cap now, but I could tell he stopped searching when he spotted me. He saluted in my direction, then spun around and walked out of view.

I started after him but I knew I'd never catch him. There was an exit to a parking lot, an entrance to the Macy's, and several smaller shops down there. He could've gone anywhere.

I reached the First Floor, but he was gone.

Why did I recognize the jacket? Who was he?

Why was he at the mall? And, why had he acknowledged me?

I had the questions, but no answers.

I mulled it over as I headed back to where I parked my car. The way I saw it, there were only two possible answers.
1. I'm over-reacting, possibly a bit paranoid. But I'm sure that I've seen that jacket before, and why did he salute in my direction? Or..........
2. It was Del. He's following me for some reason - again.
Either way, I needed to contact Doyle. I'd call the number I had as soon as I got into my car and had some privacy.

That turned out to be unnecessary.

 Doyle was standing by my car when I got there. We shook hands.
"I was just about to call you."
"Are you OK?"
"Sure..Why wouldn't I be?"
"The Tracker on our Delaware subject popped back up about 1/2 an hour ago showing that he was here in the Mall. A quick check also showed that you were here too, and in close proximity. Did anyone speak to you..approach you in any way?"
"No. But there was someone and that was why I was going to contact you." I told him what had happened. I told him about the jacket. He asked what the guy looked like, and I told him what I could.

He rubbed his face with his hand. He looked tired.

"Was it him?... Del?... The guy I saw?"
He was quiet for a minute or two, then nodded his head slowly. "Sounds like it may have been, given the circumstances."
"Why?..Why is he doing this?..."
"We don't know...He's playing us...He's got some kind of agenda but we can't figure it out. I'm sorry, Denny, we just don't know."
"So you think he's, what, using me to rub your nose in it? He's laughing at you, and he wants you to know it? Is that it?"

Doyle ran his fingers through his hair and paced back and forth. He was trying to control himself.

"Maybe, Denny, but I'm getting sick of it." He paused, and rolled his neck, "We're gonna get him." He said softly. "We're gonna get him if it's the last thing I do." His eyes were hard.

His phone went off, but he ignored it.
"I'll be in touch, Denny. As soon as I work out a few things, I'll be in touch."
He turned quickly and walked away, pulling out his phone.

I stood there staring after him, long after he'd gotten into his SUV and drove away.

.............Who Was Not There

The first thing I did on Friday, after I found that crayoned note in my newspaper, was to leave a message at the number that Doyle had given me. I heard nothing back for the rest of the day, and nothing on Saturday, either. Sunday I got a text. Basically, it said to do whatever I planned to do on Monday, and someone would find me.

I really had no plans for today, but I went out and stopped at a few places.

 First, ShopRite to check out their sales. I picked up a few things. Next, P. C. Richards. My car radio died and I wanted to check out one that they had on sale (with free installation). I'm actually kind of iffy on this, and since no one came over to offer any help, I just left. Maybe I'll check to see if it's really just a problem with a fuse.

No contact so far.

I decided to take the long way to Target, so I got some coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, and turned down the side road. The evidence of last weekend's storm is still lying all over. Tree branches are stacked at curb sides all along the residential streets, and there was at least one spot that still had evidence of a downed power line problem. It's been like this for over a week. Thank God, I didn't have any problem, but I did feel kind of bad for people upstate who still have no power.

I checked out a few things in Target, but didn't buy. As I left the store, I saw Craig standing by my car.

"Hey, Craig. Thanks for coming out."
"No problem, Mr. O'Neill. I understand you have something from our Delaware subject?"

I opened the car, and took the newspaper out.

"From Del? Yeah. Here. I don't know what you can do with it."
"Probably nothing, but I'll let the lab boys try anyway."
"You're not questioning that this is a message from Del?"
"No. We're pretty sure that it is."
"Then there's something I don't understand....He seems to be claiming that he caused these..this...Event. How could that be? Don't you guys keep these things out of the papers?"

Craig put the newspaper in a plastic envelope he took from the side pocket of his jacket.

"We thought the subject, or rather Del, was in Pennsylvania. There were.....indications. It doesn't matter now. He blindsided us."
"OK. But how did it get into the newspaper?"
""Look, Mr. O'Neill, you were here last weekend. That storm wreaked havoc all over the area. There are still problems."
"I know. I've seen some of the damage."
"With all due respect, sir, the damage upstate was much worse. When we were notified that his Flasher had been used, we mobilized right away. But we just couldn't get in there without attracting attention."

He paused, and I waited him out.

"the People Upstairs decided that we could use the storm damage situation to disguise what happened. So we had one agent slip in, and set it up to look like carbon monoxide poisoning...I'm not proud of it, but there it is."
"It wasn't you, was it?"
"No...No, thank God. But it was one of us....It just didn't seem right.."

I didn't bother to argue with him. After all, I'd never bothered to ask what happened with the other Events in the past.

"Well, should I be worried that Del sent this to me?"
"No. Our shrinks think that he's happy to get into the papers, so he reached out to someone he felt would understand. We don't think you're in any trouble. They think he's just showing off."
"Damn. All right. well, what about what appeared to be initials..the A. G.?"
"We don't know. It may be that he's using an alias. They're definitely not his real ones."
"What are his real ones?"
He grinned at me.
I just stood there a while,, nodding my head. This time, Craig waited me out.

"So....status quo, huh? Keep doing what I do, and you'll let me know whatever you think I should know?"
"Yes sir. For now. But feel free to contact us whenever you have a question, or something..." he held up the envelope, "..comes up."
"Thanks, Craig."
"Have a good one, Mr. O'Neill."

He walked away. I got in my car and drove home.

The Little Man.............

For the last 2 1/2 weeks, I've been feeling guilty. I was stressing over some test results, and used the Flasher to take it out on some people who annoyed me. I had reacted quickly, without really thinking about the consequences. Luckily there were none. No one saw me, and no one - so far - has called me on it.

Now, I'm coming up on my 3rd Anniversary as a transplant recipient. I'm reliving all those "good to be alive" feelings. This is leading to a lot of regret at having played along with Doyle and DHS. At first, of course, I felt like I had no choice, but later.......?

What's that quote.."Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely"..?

When there was a quota - deadlines - it was different. When Doyle, or Givings, or Craig was in the picture, I guess I justified what I did as being part of The Project. Now that it's only me, I have to admit that I let it go to my head.

I had power.

I had power, and I used it.

I had power, and I used it,.. wrongly.

I know that things have changed at the DHS. I've been led to believe that someone - hopefully, Doyle - would eventually contact me about The Project. I'll have to control the urges until they do.

Not stop..control. After all, they didn't take the Flasher back. They must want me to continue using it. Just not so much for my own gratification.

Today was to be the first day of my new resolve. I got up around 8, and ran through my morning routine and checked my emails. I went out.

I put my wash in a machine, picked up the paper and some lottery tickets, and did some food shopping. I picked up my wash, had breakfast at Mickey D's, and picked up a sandwich at Subways.
I went home. Put away the wash and the groceries, turned on the TV, made some tea, and sat down to read the paper. I didn't get too far.

Scrawled in what looked like crayon was the message.."Denny, Mine! A. G. (Del)".. next to a circled  sidebar article about a couple being found dead during the power outage.

What?...... How?............Who?............

It was addressed to me.

I don't buy my paper at the same place every day, and I don't always take the top copy, so it couldn't be a set up. The paper had been in my car when I was picking up my wash, eating, and buying the sandwich. Could someone have gotten at it then? Why?

It was addressed to me. And it looked like "Del" inside the parenthesis.

The article was about a couple who died, supposedly by carbon dioxide poisoning. But what if it was Del, the DHS subject from Delaware?

And why would he be doing this..sending me this message?

Who, or what, did the letters "A. G." stand for?

Too many questions, and no answers at all. Some lines from a poem I remember hearing when I was a kid came to me..

          He was not there again today
          Oh how I wish he'd go away.

If this was Del, I really did.

Arc 6

Passing the Time............................

Usually, I find it easy to wait. I'm not in any hurry, and I almost always have a paperback book with me. Today, however, is tough.

I had an ultrasound done last week at my doctor's request, just to check on a couple of other internal organs that might be affected by the immuno-suppressants I take. I was told that the results would be evaluated and sent to my doctor within 24 hours. Unfortunately, the test was on Friday, and the 24 hours mentioned were "business hours". Saturday wasn't bad, but I didn't sleep well last night and I woke up early this morning definitely out-of-sorts. Plus, I don't know what my doctor's office hours are today so I don't know when I might hear.

It was a nice morning, and thinking to take my mind off of this, I decided to get a hair cut. My barber opens at 8:00, so I drove to the middle of town and parked in the municipal lot. As I walked towards Main Street, I passed this guy in the yard of a Slovak church, pruning the trees and bushes. He was whistling away, happily.

I got to the shop, but the barber had one guy in the chair, and three others waiting already. At maybe 8:15. On a Monday morning. Ridiculous. Today, I was in no mood to wait. I turned around and headed back to my car.

As I came up towards the Slovak church again, I could hear the tree-pruner still whistling. Now, it bothered me. I looked around. No one else was out. I came up on the tree-pruner from behind with the Flasher in my hand.

Point, press, Flash.

I kept walking to the municipal lot, got in my car, and drove away. I was feeling a little better.

I needed gas, so I headed for this no-name station that I use. The gas there is usually cheaper. When I got there, there was no waiting so I pulled up on the side closest to the street, with my passenger side to the pump. I could see the attendant sitting at the desk in the office. It didn't look to be my regular guy. I got out of my car, and waited for him to come out.

And I waited.

I knew he's seen me, because we made eye contact. He was just taking his time - and wasting mine. I was not in the mood for this.

Finally, he came out, and he filled my tank.

 I got back in my car, rolling the passenger side window down. When he was finished, he bent down into my car and I paid and thanked him. He just sort of sneered at me, but that was OK because...

Point, press, Flash...

I was ready for him. He slumped down between my car and the pump. There was no one around to see, and I drove off.

I had some food shopping to do, and since I prefer the self-check-out lanes, I didn't have any more waiting to do. The day was brightening, with a nice breeze. I decided to drive to Johnson Park on the Peninsula and just gather my thoughts.

It was quiet there. Joggers passed by as I sat on a bench looking out over the bay. I felt myself calming down. I'd be able to wait for the doctor's call now.

Then I heard her.

she was sitting on one of the walls, at some distance from me, but she was talking on her phone to someone in as loud a voice as possible. I couldn't quite hear what she was saying, but it didn't matter.
The shrillness of her voice was enough to ruin this peaceful setting. I got up and headed back to my car. I detoured slightly so that I would pass her on my right.

There was no one else in this side of the park. As I passed..

Point, press, Flash..

and she tumbled backwards off the wall.

I got back in my car and headed home. I'd watch some TV, eat lunch, and maybe take a nap.

And wait for my test results.

Waiting For The Fall................

I've always liked the Fall. I like the sharpness of the morning air. I like the way the leaves go out in a blaze of glory. I like having the window open and needing a light blanket at night. Unfortunately, the last few days have been humid, and now we're in for a string of rainy days. It reminds me of when I was a kid and school would start. It always seemed rainy to me.

Doyle called yesterday. We agreed to meet for lunch today at a deli in Raritan Center.

I got up early. Earlier then usual. There was a strange feel to things, and I hadn't slept well. I didn't know what it was, but it was like an itch you can't scratch. Anyone who's spent any time in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors knows what I mean.

Rain was predicted for today, but so far it was only gray out. A humid day with a winter sky. I thought to clear my head by picking up something to eat and driving to Merrill Park. I took some bottled water, and picked up some apple strudel at ShopRite.

There was no one around as I pulled into the park. I thought there'd at least be a jogger or two, but I didn't see any. I pulled into one of the parking areas. I turned off the engine and started to open the strudel package when I noticed this guy. He was lying on one of the picnic tables, doing leg exercises.

Now, I'm all in favor of letting people do what they want, but this guy was lying on a picnic table. Where people eat. That didn't seem right to me.

I looked around. For all I could tell, we were the only 2 people in the park. I got out of my car. I held the Flasher down by my leg. I walked towards this clown.

"Excuse me." I called. He ignored me.
"You know, people eat on those tables." He still ignored me.
"Don't you think you should do that somewhere else." He stopped ignoring me.
"Fuck you.", he said, and went back to what he was doing.
I looked around. No one else.

Point, press, Flash.

I walked back to my car, got in, and drove away. He was still on the table, but I was hopeful that someone would clean it off once they found him.

I drove to Roosevelt Park. I still needed to finish my breakfast.

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

I met Doyle at the deli. I hadn't been there in a while, and they had changed a lot. They'd rebuilt, and were now an open-room cafeteria-style place, with a side room full of tables. You bought your food at one of three counters - depending on what you wanted- then took it in to the side room. I could see Doyle sitting at one of the tables, so I got myself a Philly Cheese Steak and an unsweetened iced tea and joined him.

"Hey, Denny. Thanks for coming. Good to see you." He was eating some kind of salad, and had a large cup of coffee on the table.
"Good to see you, too, Doyle. How're things?"
"Everything's good, Denny." He ate some salad, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Just thought you'd like to know how things turned out."
"How what turned out?" I said around a mouthful of steak and onions.
He smiled and drank some of his coffee.

"It's been almost 2 weeks since The Anniversary. Everything went well in New York. Yes, we had that "3 suspects" scare, but that was for controlled panic."
"Controlled panic? What're you talking about?"
"Look, Denny. We get a lot of threat chatter all the time, but when we were getting close to 9-11, it picked up. We expected that, and we wanted to add extra security, but the Mayor baulked at it. So Mr. Smith suggested that we "specify" a threat and Mr. Jones agreed. So there was a "possible threat" from 3 unknown individuals who may or may nor be coming in to the country. Whatever....it worked."

He went back to his salad.

"You mean that was all made up?"
"No...Not entirely. Believe me, there were threats. Viable threats. We stopped two of them, in fact. But we couldn't broadcast them. The media has given our enemies way too much information about our activities. We decided to give them something they could run with."
"Something that would give you what you want, and yet would still be partly true?"
"Exactly." He pushed his plate away, and had some more coffee. " And it did what we hoped. Mr. Jones got the credit and has been put in charge of the entire East Coast."
"So, now Smith will do, what..?"
He grinned. "Mr. Smith stays with the People Upstairs, only now there are only 5 members so they have to wait until a sixth can be appointed."
"And that means..what?"
"Nothing new can be started. In fact, the only thing we have to do now is wrap up some loose ends."
"Does that include me?"
"No. Although, to be honest, I don't know what Mr. Smith wants to do with The Project. But I do know that he likes you and what you've done."

He paused, finished his coffee, then looked right at me.
"The only loose end we have, Denny, is the guy you call Del. Our Delaware subject. We need to find him, and contain him."
"What do you mean by 'contain' him?"
"Look, Denny...we made a mistake with Del. He's...crazy. We have Events of his that stretch from Delaware to South Jersey. Fifteen. All within the six month."
"I didn't read anything about those."

He laughed. "Come on, Denny. Have you ever seen anything about your Events in the paper? Of course not. We make sure of that."
"Well..I thought you couldn't track him, that he slipped off your radar some how. How do you know he's involved at all?"
"True. Some how or other, he's made himself invisible to us. But he can't mask the signal the Flasher gives off when it's used. Believe me, he's involved."

I had to agree.
"OK. So..what happens now?"
He put his leftovers on his tray. "You wait. And you continue to do whatever you want. We track down and control Del. They add a member to the People Upstairs. We go from there."

He stood up, with his tray in his hands.

"Enjoy your lunch, Denny."

He left.

I pushed my sandwich aside. It was cold.

Given Enough Time................

Doyle called. Surprising, since I haven't expected to get called by anyone from DHS, least of all Doyle. We agreed to meet this morning at The Raconteur in Metuchen.

I like Metuchen. It's a small, quiet township that for some reason sits right inside the borders of Edison Township. I like to think of it as an example of small town America, although decidedly upscale. It's quaint. It's clean. And I like to think that it doesn't suffer from the problems that other urban areas experience.

It's Main Street shopping area runs for about 3 blocks south from the train station, and has an assortment of small, niche shops such as outdoor cafes and a tobacconist.  It also has it's share of For Rent space but, considering the economy, not much. The Raconteur is a used book store - although they probably refer to it as a "pre-owned books" shop.

Doyle had said he'd meet me in the back at 11:00, but I got there early to look around. Like any used book store, they have a varied selection of hard covers and paperbacks, sorted into genres such as Mystery, History, etc. I'm guessing that they try to keep each category sorted alphabetically by author, but they only have so much space and a lot of books are just piled up near where they should go.

While I was waiting for Doyle, I actually found a copy of "At The Earth's Core" by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

The back of the store has a few wooden chairs, and is devoted to Children and Young Adult books.

While I was browsing through some of these, Doyle came through the back door.

"Denny, How's it goin'?" We shook hands. He looked the same as always. Dark suit and tie, white shirt. Government issue.
"Doyle. Good to see you. I didn't expect to hear from you again. What brings you back?"
"Just passing through on my way to New York. Thought I'd stop by to see you. After all, it's kind of an anniversary for us. Two years, buddy, since I got you into this."
I had forgotten. Or blocked it out. Whichever.
"Really? And you stopped to see me? I'm touched."
He grinned.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. Like I said, I'm on my way to New York. I'll be working security for the 9/11 celebrations."
"Yeah? Wow. That must be a plum assignment. Smith must be happy to have that."

He shook his head. "Mr. Jones is in charge of the New York coverage. In fact, Mr. Smith didn't want it."
"What? Why not?"
"Politics, Denny. Mr. Jones has always been about getting noticed, getting ahead. Mr. Smith doesn't care about those things. He's more concerned with results."
"So how does this involve politics?"
"Mr. Smith figures that if Mr. Jones does well here, he'll be fast-tracked, if not, he'll be sunk. Either way, he's out of the picture."
I had to admit it made a kind of sense.

"Anyway, Denny, I also wanted you to know not to worry about our Delaware subject - you called him Del, didn't you? Ha! Funny. Anyway, we're pretty sure that those notes he left for you were to get our attention since it looks like he's contacted us directly."
"How so?" We had been standing, but now took a couple of the chairs.
"Everyone in the DHS offices from D. C. to Boston received the same email yesterday. It contained a YouTube link to a 32 second video posted on September 3, 2006, of a ticking clock."
"For real? A ticking Clock?"
"Yep. Posted originally by a site called ratherboringvideos, one word."
"How do you know it was Del?"
"Well, we don't know for sure, but it appears to have come from the Vice President's office."
"The Vice President? As in "of the United States"?"
"That's the one. And since he used to be a senator from Delaware, well, you can see how we jumped to our conclusion."
"What do you think it means?"

He paused, thinking of the best way to answer that.
"To me, the only way to interpret it is that time is running out. For whom? How long? Why? I don't know. Other people smarter then me are working on that. Me? I gotta get to New York. Just thought that, since I was passing by and all, I'd stop by. You know?"

I knew.

We stood, shook again, and - grinning - Doyle left through the back.

I sat there for a while, thinking about the whole thing. I had this feeling that they weren't looking at it the right way. To a transplant recipient - like me, like Del - a ticking clock doesn't necessarily mean that time is running out. It means that it's still ticking..that there's still time to do something. But what?

I ran outside to try and catch Doyle. To tell him this.

The back door leads to a municipal parking lot, and there was no sign of Doyle. He probably had a driver waiting.

Del was planning something. I only hoped that Doyle's people figured it out. In time.

I went back inside. I still had to pay for my book.

Summer Days..............

I live in a first floor apartment in a 3-story building on a very busy street in Woodbridge. Woodbridge is a city - not on the same scale as Newark or New York, but you wouldn't know it from the traffic that passes by my building on a daily basis. Oh.. did I mention that my bedroom faces this busy street? During the seasons when I can keep the windows closed, it's not too bad, but even I have to open them during the summer.

Actually, at night, the traffic noise is minimal, so sleeping isn't a problem. The mornings, however, can be a different story. That's why I usually jump at the chance to house-sit for my friend in Avenel whenever she goes away. That's where I was for about a week and a half, just getting home this past Wednesday.

Avenel is part of Woodbridge, but it's more like a suburb, predominantly private houses. It's a quiet, residential area. For the most part, the only noise you get in the morning is bird-song, and at night it's crickets. For the most part. There's a new neighbor who is out early almost every day, with some sort of noisy, annoying gardening machine. A mower, an edger, a weed whacker, whatever. Every other day, at least. And early! 7:00 A. M. early!

Of course, I didn't say or do anything, since I didn't want to cause my friend a problem.

Like I said, I got home Wednesday, and did sleep well that night. As I was getting up Thursday morning I heard a series of noises outside. Apparently, the business across the street has hired a landscaper who showed up bright and early.

I do admit that they weren't as early as that neighbor guy in Avenel, but 8:00 is still early. It annoyed me so I looked it up, and the local ordinance allows them to be there that early.

Needless to say, I went out that morning feeling a little put out. And I drove up to and around Avenel for a while hoping to see the neighbor. I thought, fleetingly, of whether Del might be following me, buy I put him out of my mind. He hasn't actually done anything to me. Just left some stuff in my mailbox. I'm guessing Craig was right, and he was just sending a message. It didn't matter anyway since that neighbor wasn't out.

This morning, I woke to no loud noises, just the usual sounds of traffic. I took a ride towards the Main Library, but realized that they were on summer hours and wouldn't open until 10:00. I drove passed the back of the high school and saw a U-Haul in the parking lot. The driver was standing in the doorway of the cab.

 I made sure my windows were down, and the Flasher was ready. There was no one else around.

I slowed as I got closer. The driver never looked back, apparently concentrating on whatever he was doing. I closed in.

Point, press, Flash.

I kept driving as he sagged into the cab. I followed some back streets, exited to Rahway, and headed for Avenel.

The neighbor was out, working the curbside.

I pulled to the curb just passed him and got out. He didn't even look up. I stood there watching him for a few minutes, and checking the neighborhood. Like I said, it's quiet here. That worked to my advantage. I walked up to him and..

Point, press, Flesh.

He slid down the length of the edger as I got back in my car and drove away.

I could still hear it whirring when I turned the corner.