* * *
During his long tale, she had to change tapes twice.
She outlined points on her notepad during much of the impossible tale. He slowly began connecting all the impossible bits of information with names and reference material to check out. She got so caught up in listening to him she stopped marking points on her notepad and sat enthralled, her skeptical mind no doubt causing her face to mimic the occupants of the room: Slack-jawed and bleary-eyed.
When he finished, it was late in the day and it was time for her to leave.
At the door, as she waited for the patient-technician to let her out, Josh called to her.
“Remember, go to Into The Unknown. Tell ‘em Josh sent you.” With that said, he turned back to the window.
* * *
As soon as she got into the car, she rewound the tape and listened to it as she made the long drive back to the office.
In the middle of the ride, she decided this was too big of a story to be taken lightly and on the merits of a Sunny Meadows’ occupant. She decided she would take his advice and go to a meeting at the bookstore in Jacksonville.
In the meantime, she would do what she always did when she had something that felt too hot to handle: She would mail it to her PO Box. She had some envelopes in the trunk for such an occasion.
Two times before she exited I-40 to find a Post Office, she felt like she was being followed. Checking the rearview numerous times, she finally decided she was just being paranoid. What was it Josh had said at one point during the interview?
“Paranoia is like a cold in here: Passed back and forth between patient and doctor until it is hard to tell the difference between the two.”
In her case, she felt as if she had the flu.
* * *
At the post office, she sent two envelopes: A decoy of empty stationary to her house and another to her PO Box under her pen-name.
She had practiced this exercise two other times in her ten year career and this felt like a good time for number three.
The parking lot of the Post Office was busy today. A white car was blocking a blue van and a black van was backing out of the space behind her.
With her back to the van, she didn’t see three men exit and approach her, one whose hand was a glove of chloroform. She slumped after a too-short struggle and was drug into the waiting van. The third man picked up her dropped keys, got in her car, and followed the black van out of the lot.
* * *
How much time passed, she didn’t know.
All she knew was the dreams she had; of her strapped to a chair, answering questions concerning an envelope sent to her home that was intercepted. Her notepad was indicated, the meaningless chicken scratches rousing more suspicion than alleviating them.
Her mantra to their questions became: It’s all in my head. It’s all in my head.
There came a time when her wish was just that: That it’d all been her head.
* * *
But she awoke one day and it became apparent it hadn’t been in her head.
It had been all too real, what little she could recall. And more was in store for her, as she groggily recognized the questioner.
“Ahh, sleeping beauty awakes,” Josh said.
“How long—”
“Since yesterday. They just brought you in a little while ago. I must say, I haven’t seen this place in such a run-around since that time Mr. Williams disappeared. As a matter of fact, the only person I’ve seen all day is the one who wheeled you in here. That’s strange.”
Manny put a hand to her head.
“The pain’ll pass. But this…” He swept an arm to indicate the room. “This won’t, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t understand…”
“You talked to me.”
“Yes, but—”
“And now you’re too dangerous to be let out into society to spread the truth. The apple, my dear, is for the powerful to eat. The rest of society is supposed to feed themselves on celebrities and carefully orchestrated gossip. The dish of ignorance is a scrumptious delight for the blissful. And in here, we’re all blissful, aren’t we?”
“Then what you told me—”
“Was the truth, yes. But that knowledge isn’t going to help us now, now is it?” Josh got up, went to the window, and looked out the scenery beyond the bars. “I used to think this place was created to keep them out instead of us in, you know?” He shook his head and looked to the right, his mouth dropping open. “Oh, my God.”
It wasn’t what he said. It was the way he said it that gave Manny strength to ask, “What?”
His answer was a signal for her to join him.
She shakily stood and joined him, leaning against the window. She glanced at him in question.
He pointed to the employee parking lot below.
People by the dozens were hurriedly walking to their cars, a few glancing over their shoulders at the building, Manny meeting eyes with a couple people. Then the contact was broken and they hurried to their cars, got in, and took off. In moments, the parking lot was empty. She looked at Josh, but Josh was looking up at the sky.
“Remember when I asked you if you believed in God?”
“Yes.”
“The question is still open.” He turned to her fully and held her attention. “Do you believe in God?”
“Uh, no. Not really. Why?”
He closed his eyes and sat down in his chair. “Because if there ever was a time to begin believing, now’s the time.”
She didn’t get it and told him so.
He asked her to tell him what she saw coming toward the hospital.
She didn’t need to describe the landscape of their future to Josh. He’d already seen the coming bumble bee: Two black vans, a bright yellow Ryder van sandwiched between. The largest in their inventory, it looked like.
She turned to Josh, took his hand, and followed his lead in the recitation of a fox-hole prayer.
x x x
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