Minions (12 page)

Simon sat on a large desk overlooking the park on the
other side of the street.  With the window open, the morning sun was glorious
and Tania allowed herself to be distracted until she noticed that Simon was
no-longer making sounds of hyperactivity.  There was nowhere near as much new
email as she expected and it didn’t take long to work out what had happened. 
It seemed that she’d received so much spam that she’d exceeded some limit
imposed by her service provider.  The result was that in the last ten days, all
she’d received was daily reminders that her mailbox was full. 
Dammit
. 
She wondered what the senders of those emails would think when they received
the obligatory bounce message as if she’d disappeared off the face of the
earth.  She wondered if anyone would care.

The more she thought about it, the more she accepted that
few of them, if any, would change the way she felt.  Notwithstanding the fact
that it would have been nice to see who had emailed her, the fact remained that
they would invariably have contained the same general thing.  ‘Sorry to hear of
your loss’, ‘he was a lovely man’, ‘a kind friend’.  All about him, not about
her.  Even dead, Tim was the good one, and she wasn’t. 

In this train of thought it made perfect sense that a
standard universal reply would be more than appropriate.  She quickly typed a
message and addressed it to everyone she knew, thanking them for their support
and kind words.  She wondered for a time if Tim himself would have done a
better job, drawing on some government standard template.  She then added a
post-script that her email server had been overwhelmed and hit the ‘Send’
button before her usual tendency to proof-read set in.  Simon obliged and she
returned to the more taxing task of preparing a more personal thank-you note
for ‘Cat’.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 23.
               
 

Technically hospital wasn’t really a holiday, but the
Malcolm it served the same purpose.  It allowed him to rest and in doing so he
might just avert an episode.  No matter how committed he was, he did not want
to live with the implications of failing health.  Not again. 

The use of the hospital was a risk, and a risk that was
not taken lightly.  It violated each of his simple rules. 
Don’t draw
attention.  Don’t go on record.  Avoid the police
.  Instead, he’d made a
spectacle of himself, was now on file in the public health system and indeed
the public
mental
health system, and on this occasion had actually
invited specific Police involvement.  It was not ideal by any means, but it was
necessary.  Malcolm didn’t dare dwell on what might have happened.  Instead, he
concentrated on the upside of his gamble.  He’d effectively hidden in plain
view, implicitly acquired a watertight alibi,
and
got some chemically
induced rest.  He would have liked to gloat. 

Now though, he was out of hospital, rested, grounded and
ready to resume his work.  He picked up from where he left off.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 24.
               
 

Ikel intercepted Devlin mid corridor en-route to the
bunker.  “Come on.  We’re going on a field trip!” he said exuberantly.  Devlin
followed Ikel out of the building. 

“Care to tell me where we’re heading?” asked Devlin as he
walked beside Ikel along the footpath. 

“Hang on,” Ikel replied, nodding to Conrad as they passed
him, leaning against a car, presumably his own.  “I’ll tell you when we get to
my car,” Ikel said softly, glancing back over his shoulder at Conrad. 

Albert was asleep in front of Ikel’s car, oblivious to the
heavy smell of ammonia that permeated everything.  As soon as Ikel laid a
single step in the vicinity of his car, Albert appeared aggressively, but he quickly
relaxed as soon as he recognised a familiar face.  “Anyone we know?”

“Just one drop off today.  We won’t be long.”  Ikel
unlocked his car and got into his seat, clearly not wanting to mislead Albert
that he was interested in any conversation. 

Albert understood.  “Maybe later then,” he said, resuming
his rest position between puddles after nodding to Devlin. 

“So where are we going?” Devlin asked as soon as they were
inside the car and mobile. 

“LastGasp’ is pretty much automated,” Ikel began.  “But if
contact is lost, then we need to manually drop off messages.  And that’s what
we’re doing now.  I didn’t want to say anything before with that idiot Conrad
sniffing around.”

“Do we know who the member is, or just who we are
visiting?  Or is this how we get a definitive identification, only when we ask
the recipient?”

“I see your point, but it’s not like that.  Once the
member is dead, we can identify them without too much guesswork on our part. 
LastGasp’ is technically like a bank, and so we get notified as soon as someone
dies so that their assets and accounts can be frozen.”

“So who died?”

Ikel wriggled forward in his seat and reached inside the
back of his jacket, removing a large envelope.  “Everything I know is in this. 
I remember the address and the woman’s name, but nothin’ else.  You’ll have to
read it yourself.”

Devlin examined the contents of the envelope immediately,
curious as he was.  He found a single page describing the message recipient’s
contact details, and what invariably represented the message itself, formatted
simply as text but on LastGasp’ letterhead.  After the first few paragraphs, he
found himself skim reading.  He returned the pages to the envelope and restored
his attention to the traffic as it flashed past.  “How often do you do this
anyway?”

“It depends really.  I might get out of the office every
day for a week and then I’ll have a week when I’m like a rat in a cage and
stuck in the office.”

“What’s so good about doing this?  Other than giving you
the opportunity to play race car driver in your toy here.”

Ikel smiled at Devlin directly.  “That.  And the sympathy
fucks.”

“You’re kidding?”

“It’s another undocumented perk of LastGasp’.  In fact,
because I’m such a great guy, I’ll let you
have
this one, or
do
this one.”  No matter how he phrased it, the innuendo remained.  “I’m not
promising anything of course, but if you’re there when she needs someone to
hold, then who are we to stand in the way!”

“Thanks.  But I’m sure that nothing will happen.”

“Suit yourself.  I know you’re not gay based on the way
that you looked at Lori last night, so don’t be too quick to rule it out.  Just
in case, I’ll drop you off and leave you to it for a while.”

Devlin was starting to feel a little pressure,
irrespective of whether he felt that anything sexual would come of the task of
delivering a message.  “Keep the motor running Ikel.  I don’t think that hand
delivering a letter will take too long!”

“It’s
never
as simple as handing over a piece of
paper.  They’ll need to talk about it.”

“Fine,” Devlin said with a measure of reluctance.  “What do
I say?”

“Just read the message for background.  You’ll be fine.”

Devlin re-read the message, this time a little slower.  He
quickly gathered what were perhaps the important aspects of the message content
to allow him to meet the recipient, a woman, Tania Wilson, who was obviously
someone’s much loved little sister.  There was nothing particularly
confessional, or even interesting other than a series of recollections and
memories which might strike a chord with someone with a shared interest. 
Lacking that background, Devlin felt like someone sitting in on the eulogy at a
stranger’s funeral. 

The end of their journey was marked with Ikel’s tyres
screeching to a halt.  “I’ll give you an hour, but ring me if you need longer…
Stud!”

Devlin raised his eyebrows to Ikel.  He returned the
papers to the envelope and got out of the car leaving Ikel to speed off
immediately.  He sauntered to the subject address, looking to waste a few
minutes here and there if at all possible, certain that nothing would eventuate
in spite of Ikel’s best wishes.  He looked at his watch and given that he could
hear movement from inside the home, he figured that he’d wasted enough time. 
He rang the door-bell and waited.

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 25.
               
 

Tania Wilson was surprised to hear the bell ring.  She’d
never been a morning person and everyone knew to give her a wide berth,
typically until well after lunch.  Everyone except her brother.  He’d described
it as ‘poking the bear’ and he’d revelled in tormenting his sister with early
morning wake-up calls for as long as either of them could remember.  The door
chime initially made her think of a new means of retaliation, until it struck
her that it couldn’t possibly be Tim.  A shadow was re-cast on her temporarily
heightened mood.  She opened the door and did her best to greet her visitor
simply but nicely and with a manner that did not reflect her disappointment. 
“Hello.”

“Good morning,” the visitor began, looking her over as
subtly and best he could through the security screen.  “My name is Devlin
Bennett.  You don’t know me, but I work for an organisation known as
‘LastGasp’.  Our recent emails to you have bounced.”

“So?” Tania couldn’t help herself.  It was not her time of
the day, and rapidly approaching her time of the month, and she was in no mood
to be annoyed with something inconsequential.  She remembered periodically
receiving an email from some organisation calling itself LastGasp’, but she’d
habitually deleted it as
spam
given that she didn’t know the sender. 

“Well yes.  I appreciate that you’ve recently lost someone
special.  LastGasp’ provides a service whereby people can create messages to be
sent posthumously, and I have one such message for you.”

“You’re not a Jehovah’s witness are you?”

“No, I’m not.”  The guy smiled, clearly not offended at
the accusation.  “Can I come in to explain further?”

“Just give me the message,” Tania ordered on seeing the
envelope in the man’s hand.

“Of course.”  The guy fumbled before removing some papers
from the envelope, wincing briefly as he gave himself a small paper-cut in the
process. 

Tania opened the screen door a little and accepted the
papers cautiously.  “Anything else?” she asked, looking at the man sucking his
finger. 

“No, that’s all.”  He reached inside his jacket and
presented a business card, “In case you need anything else, here’s my card.” 

Tania accepted the card but was more interested in
returning to her solitude.  The man had been polite enough, but she didn’t feel
up to extending any great effort of hospitality to a stranger.  She closed the
door and watched the guy wander off looking at his watch. 

Privacy restored, Tania returned to her lounge room.  She
watched her visitor through her window and saw him pause kerbside before
heading to the coffee-shop.  The guy didn’t look like a stalker, though perhaps
it might be possible to watch her from there.  She knew how bad the coffee was
and thought he would only be there a little while, unless he was decidedly
committed.

Tania sat on her old couch, took a deep breath and began
to read the papers that she’d been given by the guy from LastGasp’.  Her
suspicion as to the authenticity of the message was put to rest immediately. 
There was no doubt it was a letter from Tim.  She soon found herself
alternating between many emotions simultaneously.  Above all else, she enjoyed the
joy of his presence, coupled with the disappointment that this letter would be
as close as she’d ever get to time with him. 

She also felt more than a tinge of guilt at her treatment
of the visitor.  The least she could have done was offer a half decent cup of
coffee.  There was still time for her to demonstrate a little social
conscience.  She quickly grabbed her phone and called the guy’s number from his
business card.  She kept it brief, opting to say her apology in person, but in
any case she wanted him to stay where he was.

*          *          *

The phone-call from Tania surprised Devlin no end.  He’d
been hopeful only that the remainder of the hour until he’d be picked up wouldn’t
drag on.  Waiting in the suburban café his hopes had largely been dashed by
cheap coffee and the omnipresent stench of a smoker who’d casually decided to
hover around him.  Only after the first taste of did he notice and understand
why he was the only one drinking coffee.  He’d suffered through four mouthfuls
and was on the cusp of either leaving or ordering a canned drink of some
description; something sweet to offset the residual bitterness in his mouth. 
Tania’s call removed his indecision.

Unlike the café suggested by Conrad, this one was not
attracting the ‘on-the-way-to-work’ set of people, or the coffee gourmands
either for that matter.  There were several other patrons seated in the shaded
courtyard overlooking the park facing Tania’s home.  There was a guy sitting on
his own in the corner who shamelessly enjoyed the expression of distaste that
Devlin demonstrated with his beverage, but the others were more reserved, or at
least more subdued in their reaction.  The only upside of this particular café
was its proximity to the park.  He savoured the fresh smells of the gardens
that returned after the departure of the smoker.

Devlin watched Tania cross the road towards him and then
into the café and he stood as she approached his table.  She waved to the woman
at the counter and made some gesture which appeared to be known between them
before she joined him at his table.  He could see the residual redness around
her eyes, but also that there was a brightness about her face he had not seen
when they’d spoken at her door.  He knew the letter had been the cause of both
the tears barely masked in her eyes, and the happiness that now radiated from
her.  In delivering the message, Devlin was oddly proud for the minor role he’d
played in the transformation of this woman.  Only now did he notice how pretty
she was.  Devlin was daydreaming while looking at her until she spoke.