The Second

Agh. Someone twice his size had barrelled into his shoulder and absconded down the hall. The strap of his drawstring bag slid off his shoulder and he caught it in his hand. Almost exactly a second after, the bell rung from inside the walls to chastise him for still being in the middle of the hallway.

Peeling white plaster closed in around Carter as he entered the classroom and he had to pull his shoulders in to keep away from the dirt on the doorframe. That room was a speck of dust in a nook of the city coated in it. Everything was arranged into four rows with inches between them, facing the front where Mr. Cleese read up and down the whiteboard. Carter slid between all the earlier students to an empty desk at the back.

            There were two strong knocks on the door which shook the wood.

With a sigh of irritation, Mr. Cleese went to answer the door, and in walked a man whose stance made the teacher back away as far into the wall as his dignity would allow. That man injected a few utterances into Mr. Cleese and then stood at the front.

His facial expression wasn’t a smile, but the corners of his lips and the curve of his eyelids would certainly suggest so. His hands rested on the dark green lapels of his blue and green-striped suit as he spoke with a tone much lower than his red, peeling face let on.

            “My voice isn’t very loud, but hopefully you can all hear me.” He made himself chuckle. “Good morning, class. Your principal has been gracious enough to allow me in as a guest speaker today. My name is Abdallah, and I do municipal work for Hillborough serving as an intermediary between city hall and external organizations. I contributed to the recent border policy changes enacted by our mayor as well as improvements to the city food bank. I’m here today to talk about a new work initiative open to all the youth of the city.

            “Now�"I’m going to ask a question to you all. Please don’t raise your hand or otherwise physically respond. Just answer in your head and hold onto that answer. Here�"do you want to die?”

            The way in which he said that synchronized with Carter’s replayed memory of the day before, but in a tone slightly off, producing a dissonance that made him wince.

            “There is no shame in saying yes or no. Your feelings are nothing to apologize for. I myself have been in places where I felt like I had nothing to live for and couldn’t go on. That’s why I’m here today, talking to you all.

            “Now I have a second question for those of you who answered yes. Is the well-being of others the only thing stopping you from killing yourself? It could be your parents, a sibling, a lover you don’t want to leave worse off�"anyone really. If you answered yes, it’s you I’m here to speak to.”

As he said that, his eyes darted over to Carter, only for a second, but long enough to tell Carter what they wanted to. It was long enough for Carter to accidentally sit up a little straighter, revealing himself for who he was. The bald man in the suit used the next vowel sound he made as an excuse to smile.

“I agree that living for others instead of yourself is no way to live. It’s a horrible, consuming thing. That’s what my initiative is for.

            “If you agree to sign our contract and join the program, you will be given a list of tasks. You will pick any available task you please and receive brief training to carry it out. Then you will write down the names and addresses of your loved ones. Once this is done, you will carry out the task, and then kill yourself. Upon completion and aforementioned suicide, your loved ones will be granted fifty thousand dollars and lifetime protection by the gangs. They will never need to worry again. You get to die guilt-free, knowing no one will be suffering from your absence. If you’re who we’re looking for, it’s a win-win situation.

            “I understand that it’s a difficult choice to make. But know that in the wake of your death, suffering will not exist. Not for you�"there is no suffering in death�"and not for the one you love, for they have all the tools they need to get on their own two feet and live without you. Isn’t anything better than living for others instead of yourself, really?”

            The classroom’s attention span was on its last legs. It was resuming its droning of chatter and the bald man began to retreat.

            “I will be in the main office for the rest of the day if any of you want to sign up. Otherwise, I can be contacted by email at any time, or by phone from nine to six. Thank you for being such an attentive audience.”

            He bowed and gave a final glance to Carter at the back before leaving the room. All of the other students exploded with energy in the moment before Mr. Cleese regained control. The opposite happened to Carter though, as the strength it took to sit up straight ran away down his spine and he slumped back in his seat, panting. The math lesson went on, but the whole rest of the day, Carter never picked his pencil back up.

-

The main office was abandoned at the end of the day. Even the principal and all the staff had gone home. When Carter peeked outside around twenty minutes after the bell had rung, the parking lot was completely empty. He still paced a few laps around the hallways after that though, to make absolutely sure that everyone who had a reason to go home had done so. It seemed like administration had made the conscious choice to leave the main office unlocked for the night.

            After that, Carter grabbed onto the office doors and pulled them open. He navigated through to the center of the snail’s shell and checked all of the open rooms. Finally, he came across one which was cracked open, and through that crack, he saw stripes of blue and green. It took a few tries to knock on the door hard enough to be heard but once he succeeded, footsteps shuffled toward him, and the door swung in.

            The bald man was inches in front of him but wasn’t much taller than he was. From up close, the peeling skin on his face looked like a drug rash or a partially healed burn. His eyes were narrow and tilted, but they were offset by a smile which only showed the outermost of his teeth.

            “Hello,” he said. “Please come in.”

            The door opened wide enough for Carter to duck under the bald man’s arm and stand inside until he was gestured to sit in one of the armchairs.

            “Would you like a Camel?” The bald man plucked a tin off his desk and held it out. Inside were five or six cigarettes sitting in a puddle of ash.

            Carter stammered, softer than he thought he’d be. “No thank you.”

            “They’re not mine. I just found them, but I think it’s my prerogative to give them out. What do I call you, by the way?”

            “Carter.”

            “It’s nice to meet you, Carter. Remind me; which class did I find you in?”

            “Math. I was with Mr. Cleese.”

            “Ah, I remember now. I don’t have a very good memory. You’ll have to put up with that, I’m afraid. Anyway, you’re here about the program, are you?”

            Nothing came out the first time Carter tried to respond. The second time was just a breath, and the third time, he just satisfied himself with a nod.

            The bald man leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “I need you to know that I’m here to help you with this, not profit. There is nothing that I will do without your being absolutely sure of it. Now, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

            “I am.”

            His smile now brandished his yellowed incisors. “You’re a very strong young man. You’re being very brave.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Now, business.” He reached behind himself and grabbed a clipboard and pen. “There are six open spots right now. I’ll let you have a look at those. Pick any one you please. I have ensured all of them are well within your ability. At the bottom, you can write down the name and address. On the second page, there’s a consent form you’ll need to read and sign. Just fill that out for me, will you?”

            Carter grabbed the clipboard. Slowly and unsuccessfully, he read down the page while small talk was made.

            “Who are you doing this for?”

            “My brother. Noah.”

            “Any parents or guardians?”

            “Not anymore.”

            “Ah.” It seemed like that answer was satisfying. “Are you looking at the list of tasks?”

            Carter ran his eyes up and down the list of paragraphs, each flooded with repeated, nonsense details, pronouncing each one in his mind. There were all sorts of experimentations and tortures and assassinations which were implied, but never really said. Just the usual that was assumed from a program like this. If he had to carry one out, it would need to be one that’d do the city some good. One of them mentioned working against a drug syndicate. He’d have to eliminate a threat. That seemed as good as anything. And at the bottom, in bolded letters, the form stated, “the signee reserves the write to opt out of the contract at any point for any reason”.

            “Where does the money come from?”

            “The program is funded by a coalition of a few gangs. Gang members pay a voluntary tax that forms the program funds. If more kids like you carry out missions like this, they don’t have to. The ones carrying out the tasks aren’t expected to make it out alive, so�"”

            “You can’t violate the contract,” said Carter.

            “God no, the police would be all over me.”

            “I want to leave a recording for Noah. Tell him to take the money and leave the city.”

            “You’ll have time for that.”

            He continued reading, and soon had the tip of his pen rested on the line at the bottom of the page. He turned the page around and asked, “Did I fill this out right?”

            The bald man scanned the form and nodded. “Ah, the fourth task. Kate Karolyn Smyth is a nasty character. Drug peddler, anarchist�"a real thorn in the gangs’ side. Lives are going to be made a lot better once she’s taken out.”

            “Really?”

            “I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m here to help you.”

            He turned the form back around. Carter skimmed the page one more time, not to read it, but to see it in the way someone stares at a childhood home before leaving forever. Then, he signed his name.