I̵̺̮̖͎̿n̶͈͌ď̷̗̙̥̔͋̍e̴͚͑̕͝m̸͕͉̋n̶̞̥̤͆̈́į̶̼̝̺͗͠f̵͉͑̌̂y̷̫͖͑͐̆̚i̵̥̜̳̹͋͂͠n̵̙̮͈̊̽͐̽ǵ̴̩̝͒͑̈́ ̸̦͍̬̏J̸̜̘̘͈͂̈́̃͂ȩ̷̓n̶̺̤̂n̷̨͈͇̯̑̔̀̒y̷̡͕̥͛̑͠ ̶̪͙̲̀̽̏C̴̗̓͜ȁ̵̧̩͓͈͆͛r̶̭̰͗ͅr̷̹͍͎̍̌̆̓ú̸̻͉̲̯͝t̶̺̘̜̤̂͒ĥ̷̼͓̗̙̉̈́e̸̖̗͙̋̑͝͝r̸͉͕̟̓͜s̶̛̺͊͘.̷͇̫̃

 

I was with him when he saw me motion to one of our signal carriers. He didn't like what he saw. Or at least that's what he wanted me to believe. I confess it was hard to tell. Sure, I've known him for a few years. Once, when he was walking near a major highway, I had to go into town to pick up one of the jobs we always had waiting. When I got back he told me nothing of the kind. Instead, he told me about an incident from when his Dad was just a young 'piker' (yes, that was the word he used). It seems his Dad had just gotten over adenoids and was rooting around a neighbor's basement while the other kids dutifully pretended to complete their homework assignments early for 'special credit'. All of a sudden a man who was about six foot two, wearing a beige oafer's coat, made his way slowly through a nearby parish. If you said that some of the locals were 'put off', you wouldn't be half wrong. Other than that, no one did anything to arouse suspicion. I have it on good authority that that was the day that he started acting the part he was to play for the rest of his life, both overseas and in the domestic theater of operations.

Now that we've decided to adopt a baby on the darknet markets, something seems to have gotten into him when it comes to donating barely useless machinery to less well developed residents. He will wait all day near the entrance to a recreation center, only to storm off with no questions asked and make like it was all some kind of joke, or even a 'prank'. Then, when I get back after nightfall and ask him a straightforward question, he stares glumly at the top of my head and says, in a barely audible squeak, 'With all due respect..', and then just trundles off stage to play with his friends, leaving me holding the bag. I've asked everyone I know if they'd be interested in leaving town early. Without fail they mention something about there being 'both good news and bad news'. One of the reasons we're still together is that even if he didn't know how to swim, I'd be told to take him to the beach anyway. The people in my family all come from a town which was invisible to the mapmakers of the day. Even if it could be proven, no one would believe that they never had it so good. It was that kind of place. I've been shown some shoddy drawings. I even learned to count using their system. It goes in threes, in case you're wondering.

We're determined to install a baling hook in our bait room over on the side where the wall was removed to make room in case anything went awry. This is a textbook case of what happens when one of us reads about something. First there's enthusiasm, then a tepid reception, followed by out-and-out dejection. The ideals which we fought for all those years ago are now just a pitiful excuse for remaining stuck in place. When I ask why he puts such an emphasis on keeping up appearances, he has one of his dirtbag friends tell me to just 'back the fuck off!'. If anyone hasn't figured it out yet, I'll be putting in my papers in the next week or two. After that I'll be on the Coast for a not-so-secret meeting with the head of Oxymander Coal IPG. In the meantime, if you could come by and check on the outside around the window sills on the first floor, we'd all be very grateful. Don't do that.

_________________________