Department 29 - Chpt 4

 

Chapter 4

 

 

    I stood in the dark, waiting for my eyes to adjust.  I could hear movement, a rough shuffling, coming my way.  On the other side of the room a faint electric blue glow blinked in and out of existence.

    "You do hear me, don't you?"

    I tried my best to ignore it, hoping I was asleep and this was all a bad dream.

    "Turn the light on and we can talk," the voice insisted.

    I stood there, totally still, pretending I was invisible.

    "Please, I'm tired and hungry," it pleaded sympathetically.

    A thousand things ran through my head an against my better judgment I flipped the light back on. 

    "Thank you, I had begun to think I was becoming delirious,  still might be for all I know.  I haven't made up my mind as yet," The Professor said weakly, hoisting himself up to sit on the couch.

    "You're alive,  I mean... you're here.  I'm not crazy," I whispered out loud.

    "Well, personally I'm not so sure but we'll see. Your girlfriend on the other hand may need a padded room of her own," he said brushing at his pants.

    "She's not my girlfriend," I said dully.

    "So you've said my boy, so you've said but it has been my experience that when a stalker claims you as her own, you have very little to do with it.  Now, if I may, I believe we were talking about something to eat," he said rubbing his hands together.

    "Sure.  What does your kind eat?" I asked in all innocence.

    "My kind?  You mean an exceptional human being, three hundred years your superior," he sniped angrily.

    "You don't look like any human being I've ever seen," I barked in return.

    "As if a Neanderthal would recognize his lineage," he shouted, standing on the couch.

    "Who are you calling a Neanderthal, shorty?"

    "Why I never.  What I lack in height has clearly been concentrated into a far superior intellect.  You are the lesser being here,"  he bellowed, standing on the couch, waving his cane at me.

    "Really?  So what you're telling me is, excessive hair is the by-product of that superior intellect?"

    "I... you... awh, awh..." he choked.  "Of all the gall in the three universes... you are the most irritating, arrogant... did I say ignorant?"

    I was steaming. I didn't say anything at all in response.

    "I must have, I hate to repeat myself, don't you?  I'm sure even you do... where was I?  Oh yes... I eat the same things you eat, you idiot.  I am you, or at least a better version of you.  Now do we have anything to eat or not?" He asked, bouncing on the couch to sit down again.

    "Pizza?" I asked pushing the day old box in his direction.

    "Cold, solidified, grease spread over cardboard.  You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble," He said, sliding off the couch to kneel at the coffee table.

    "You don't want it, don't eat it," I returned defiantly.

    "You're too gracious," he said gruffly, turning the box toward him. 

    "Sorry, I haven't done groceries in a while that's about all there is right now.  You want me to nuke it for you?"

    "Nuke it?" he gasped.

    "Yeah, you know... throw it in the microwave for a minute... heat it up a little," I offered.

    "A micro... what did you call it?  Nuke it?  I'm sorry my boy but you're only speaking gibberish to me," he said waving a dismissive hand.

    "Come on, I'll show you," I said grabbing the box.

    He followed me into the kitchen.

    "See you put it in here and then push this button," I explained as if he were a six year old.

    "And this contains a nuclear reactor?  No wonder your kind became extinct."

    "Oh, hell no, it's just a microwave... nuke is just slang for heating things up, that's all.  It does generate radiation, well not the kind your thinking of... it's safe.  Try it."  I said removing the now hot pizza.

    He took it, sniffing it tentatively, making a very sour face.

    "Well?  How is it?"  

    "I've had worse," he said with a full mouth.

    "Yeah, it's just not the same cold."

    "It's fine.  Perhaps I could trouble you for something to wash it down with... perhaps something cold?"

    He smoothed his hand on his throat to make it go down.

    "Does your kind drink beer?"

    "My kind invented beer.  To be exact, I had a hand in it personally," he gloated.

    "You had a hand in it?"  

    "Technically, my boy, I invented beer," he said with pride.

    "Get the hell out.  Beer is what 2,000 years old?"

    "Sorry, my boy but you are terribly misinformed.  It was almost 7,000 years ago but it was truly a poor substitute for my personal recipe.  Little more than dirty water by comparison really."

    "Your recipe?" 

    "Pure genius if I say so myself.  Rich, full bodied flavor, golden color... just the right amount of head," he said waving his third piece in the air.  "Bring us a brew my boy and I will tell you all about it."

    "Sure, why not?" I said resigning myself to the situation at hand.

    "I was researching the roots of writing... 6th millennium  Sumeria... one of the first in a long and illustrious line of investigations by yours truly."

    "You don't say," I said sarcastically.

    "Oh but I do, I do.  Why I have the distinction of having more field research experience in the antiquity studies than anyone in history," he boasted, waddling his way back to the living room.  "Oh yes, I single handily invented beer, quite by accident I don't mind saying but I was the father to that miraculous tincture."

    "You?" I asked incredulously.

    "You see they had stumbled upon the most rudimentary form of distilling possible... like I said... little more than dirty water with overripe fruit.  Well, as you can imagine I couldn't just stand by and let them ruin the most perfect drink ever invented.  Clearly, it was my duty to the rest of humanity to set them right," he said firmly, slapping an open hand on the table.

    "Oh yes, clearly," 

    "Then you see my point.  I had the thirst of millions... the well being of entire generations resting on my shoulders," he said excitedly cupping his hands together as he spoke.  "Why history would have never forgiven me if I hadn't acted on its behalf."

    "Oh sure, sure I get it.  You had a responsibility," I joked, feeling more tired than I could remember.

    "All true my boy, I swear by my grandfather's whiskers, every word of it.  I tell you now Professor Robert Bartholomew Farthingale is not one to shirk his civic duties to mankind, no sir.  Not by a long shot," he said before emptying a second bottle down his throat.

    "Very self deprecating," I intoned, matching his mannerisms.

    "I agree... if I do say so myself," he grinned.

    "Not to change the subject but you made mention of Department 29.  What is that?"

    At the instant I asked the question, he spit the food and beer that remained in his mouth all over the room.

    "Did I?  I have no recollection of that," he muttered, turning away.

    "Sure you did.  Right before you shoved Seth into..."

    "Good God, man.  Do you always prattle on like this?  I'm a busy man... no time for your tomfoolery.  Let someone else get a word in sideways now and then.  Now, if you want to take advantage of an old man's experiences I could see my way clear to share a piece of the vast storehouse I happen to have in my possession, but there are limits to my patience," he said, now standing on the couch.

    "Tomfoolery?  Really?"

    "My boy, you have no idea..."

    At that moment there was a loud bang against the wall.

    "What the hell?" I shouted. 

    Another loud bang vibrated through the room, followed quickly by another and then another.

    I ran to the point were the sound originated.  Before I could decide what was happening the wall burst into a thousand pieces, revealing a hole to the other side.

    I bent to peer through and to my surprise, in the apartment on the other side was Suzie with a sledge hammer in her hands.

    "Howdy neighbor," she called and began beating on the wall again.

    "What the hell are you doing?" I shouted angrily as more drywall pieces rocketed to my side of the wall.

    "Making a door for our friend, of course," she said calmly, before making the hole larger still.

    My heart jumped... she knew about the professor.  How the hell did she know? 

    "Almost there," she called excitedly, beating at the wall frantically.

    I was shocked.  I turned to look for the professor to warn him but he had long since disappeared.

    To my disbelief, she had demolished half the wall.  There was now a hole large enough for her to pass to my side.

    "What have you done?" I asked harshly, gesturing to the debris scattered all over my living room.

    "I made it easier for our friend to get from your place to mine," she answered gleefully.

    "Our friend?" I asked trying to hide the panic that filled me. 

    "Yes, our friend... Otis," she said as if I understood.

    "Otis?"

    At that moment an over weight, bowlegged, snorting, bulldog sauntered through the hole heading straight for the coffee table and what was left of the pizza, dripping slobber all the while. 

    "Otis.  Come away from there.  You'll spoil your dinner," she scolded, passing through the hole herself.

    "My God, you're insane.  Look at what you've done... the housing authority will kill you... they're going to throw you out so fast it'll make your head spin.  They should have you arrested.  Your dangerous.  You should be committed," I screamed.

    "Awh Otis.  Look what you've done, you've upset your daddy," she cooed in baby talk, picking the dog up as she sat on the couch.

    "Did you hear me?"

    "Otis, tell daddy you're sorry," she said holding the dog so it stood on its hind legs.  "I'm sorry Daddy," she said in baby talk again, waving Otis's front paw.

    "My God, Buckles she's completely out of her mind.  Call the authorities my boy before she eats your face or something worse," the Professor coaxed from behind the living room curtains.

    Otis began to bark, wriggling wildly trying to escape Suzie's grip.

    "Buckles, my boy stop that drooling monster or I shall be forced to defend myself," he shouted, shaking his cane from between the drapes.

    "Ooww!  Otis, you bit mommy!" Suzie cried and the dog was loose.

    He headed straight to the professor barking like a dog possessed.

    "Buuuckles!" He screamed and began to run, followed closely by a snorting and barking Otis.

    "You bad boy," Suzie scolded, tackling the animal at last.  "See, all good.  Now tell daddy you're sorry.  What do you think he was chasing?  Do you have rats?  Rats are not a good thing.  Otis and I couldn't live with rats, I would draw the line at rats Johnny," she said kissing the dog on the forehead.

    "That's were you draw what line?"

    "Well, Otis and I could never... we could never...  Look, I know you don't believe... I was told you wouldn't and I've been okay with it so far but I've been a psychic my whole life.  Well, to be accurate, it came to full strength after my first period," Suzie explained, much to my discomfort.  

    "Told you?  Who told you I wouldn't believe you?"

    "He said his name was Bob," she said flatly.  "He said you and I were meant to be together... he said we would live happily ever after... I was thirteen and have been looking for you my whole life," she said softly turning away.

    "Someone called Bob, told you we were meant to be together and so you moved in next to me and tore a hole in my wall... is that right?"

    "More or less." 

    "What did this madman look like?" I asked shooting a distasteful look over her shoulder at the Professor.

    "Don't look at me," he shrugged.

    "I never saw him, saw him.  You know?  He just spoke to me in the dark.  He said I would know you because I would save your life and we would fall in love and, and..."

    "I get it.  Look... I'll talk to the housing authority but this madness has to stop, I can't deal with your imagination and the professor at the same time.  It's too much," I groused.

    "The Professor?" she asked setting Otis on the floor, coming closer.

    "I misspoke. I have a terrible headache and I'm tired.  I'm not sure what I'm saying," I lied.

    "That explains it!" She shouted.  "I could feel something but I couldn't put my finger on it but now I get it.  Someone is here.  Right here... right now.  I can feel it!"

    I didn't know what to say.

    "What the hell, he's standing right behind you," I half shouted, pointing in his direction.

    "Really?"  Suzie replied turning slightly to glance behind her.  "I don't see anything."

    "Don't do this Buckles.  The future is at stake," the professor warned.

    "I'll tell you what.  Let's do a little test.  How many fingers am I holding behind my back?" 

    "I don't..." I began.

    "If your professor is behind me, have him tell you how many fingers I have showing," she pressed, moving closer to me.

    "Well?"  I asked leaning to one side, peering over her shoulder at the professor.

    "Don't include me in this farce.  What you're doing is to damn dangerous.  Millions of future lives are at stake.  No one absolutely no one must know I'm here," he said folding his arms, turning his back to me.

    "Come on.  What can it hurt?  Tell me how many," I coaxed.

    "Four," he said with a huff.

    "Four," I repeated happily.

    "Ah, Johnny, it was two," she said with disappointment, moving to sit on the couch.

    "Oh, you little s**t.  Why did you tell me it was four?" I chided.

    "I told you.  Anything I say or do can have far reaching affects on the future.  My people... your children's children, their ancestors are at risk.  The entire structure of society, both your's and mine can be wiped out with the wrong word.  Why the knowledge of other beings in the universe alone would be enough to... awh... awh... Two, my boy, she had two fingers."