Top Secret
I’m being followed and it’s got me worried. Louise says I’m paranoid and obsessed, but she’s wrong. There’s a black van out on the street right now.
Shhhh! —Don’t talk too loud! I’m tellin’ you, cause you’re my friend. They can hear for miles with those parabolic mikes, ya know. It’s throwin’ off my TV reception—and I’m on cable, for god’s sakes.
Steve, my neighbor, knows it too. What’s that? Oh ya, he’s a bit weird at times—I mean who puts nicotine laced with urine on his lawn? It may kill a few bugs, but his house smells like the men’s room at Grand Central Station.
Anyway, sit back and have another cold one and I’ll tell you all about it. It started last week when I see Steve outside lookin’ up at his rusty TV tower.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you got cable?”
He gives me that look that says, what d’ya think—I’m made of money, or somethin?
“Ya, I guess it’s kinda expensive,” I says, “—besides, my reception’s bad too— cable company says it’s a local connection, but I got my doubts.”
He looks at me suspiciously and I shrug a little—then, I see him shakin’ his head slyly.
“So, you figur’d it out too,” he says. There’s a strange gleam in his eyes.
I see then that he sees right through me, so it’s no use pretendin’.
“Sure. It’s not rocket science—”
“Shaddap!” he thunders, lookin’ around wildly. “Are you nuts? They’re probly listenin’ right now.”
“I doubt it. There’s no black van, Steve.”
“It’s satellites, Jimmy boy—they listen for key words.”
“Key words?”
“Yeah.”
It took a moment before it dawned on me.
“Oh, you mean rocket science?”
Steve winced painfully, and clapped his hand over my mouth. “It took me two years to get rid of those two guys in black tailin’ me and now you gotta go and open your big mouth.”
“You’re scarin’ me, Steve,” I says, and he was. He had this half-crazed look on his face—the only other time I saw it was when he drank his weed concoction by mistake.
“Come over here,” and he pulls me over to his impulse sprinkler. He’s got one of those lawn sprinklers that chatters when it shoots out water. You know the kind they use on golf courses. It was pretty loud.
So, here we are standin’ in the middle of Steve’s lawn, getting’ our pants soaked up to the knees while he’s whisperin’ hoarsely in my ear. “The bastards are after me for Space Tell – But they can eat shit—they ain’t gonna get it.”
I’m thinkin’ to myself, the only person I know who’s eaten that Steve, is you.
“What the hell is Space Tell?”
Steve hesitates for a long moment, trying’ to make up his mind whether to tell me or not.
By the way, Steve has a basement full of chemicals he says will clean up nuclear fallout, so I’m not sure what lame-brained thing he’s dreamt up now.
“It’s a blocker, Jimmy.”
“Whadda ya use it for—to protect your skin against the sun?”
He laughs this mad, hysterical laugh—sounded kinda like a girl—then says calmly. “Naw, it’s not sun block—it’s a device to block out those damn satellite signals they beam down from outer space.”
I’m wonderin’ to myself if Steve’s thinkin’ of marketin’ tin foil hats or sumpthin, but then he pulls a picture out of the pocket of his lumberjack shirt.
“Holy shit,’ I scream, “What are ya into?”
He looks at me all smug—I gotta tell you, that was some sophisticated machinery he had in his basement. That device, as he called it, was as big as the original Univac and just as impressive.
“I told ya, Jimmy—I worked for NASA back in the day.”
It was true—he did tell me—but then, Steve bein’ the guy he was, told me a lot of crap, half of which I didn’t believe. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him now, but it was one helluva machine—and that was no crap.
We talked a little longer and Steve warned me to be on the lookout for the men in black.
“They’ll be back, Jimmy.” Those were the last words he said.
Sure enough, later that night, the van was back. About ten, there was a knock on the door. I answered it and two dudes in black suits were standin’ there, showin’ badges.
“James Stanton?” One of them asks. I nod. “Department of Homeland Security.”
I musta looked like I was gonna faint because the other guy takes my elbow and they guide me inside and sit me down here on the couch—right where you’re sittin’ now.
“What’s this all about?” I ask them.
The first guy looks real serious and then says in a whisper, “Have you ever heard of Space Tell?”
Well, they took Steve away that night and I haven’t seen him since.
What’s that?
Naw, they didn’t leave anythin’.
I snuck over the other day and peered in through his dusty windows and the house was completely bare—it was as if he moved and left it vacant.
Sure, I’m gonna keep an eye out for when, or if he returns.
One thing I will tell ya though—lately, the TV reception’s been real good.
this is cool - love the technique of a participant narrator - reminds me of Conrad -you know? "Pass the bottle."
Also very subtle humour - a nice, laid-back, tongue-in-cheek approach