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Scribe
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: Pennyslvania
Posts: 83
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Forgotten Events
Forgotten Events
It was a gorgeous day and everybody was out and about. So Peter didn’t see a reason not to go out and join them. The pigeons were on vacation, several dogs seemed to have laryngitis, and sun was shining in a way that made even the filth in the gutters look acceptable. All this and more put Peter into his best mood in a few months.
Peter walked down the crowded streets, continuously whistling the melody of the William Tell Overture. It was difficult to whistle correctly and took up most of his concentration. He got it exactly right four times in a row before he lost interest.
Tall and thin were the words that were often put to Peter. His mother would try to call him slender and lofty, but Peter never thought of himself that way and neither did anyone else. Peter was tall and thin, that’s just how he was. He was mostly a decent person and a hard worker. He helped to support his troubled brother and constantly visited his lonely newly divorced sister. He would have liked nothing more to start a family with the right girl. All and all, he was a nice guy.
A bunch of people were sitting out on their stoops enjoying the sun. Many of them were elderly people or small children. Peter didn’t pay any attention to them, which caught up with him when he found himself nearly tripping over someone. The old man looked up at him with disinterest and went back to staring off into space. Peter continued down the street slightly more conscious of his surroundings.
This was probably why he noticed the homeless man on the corner. Normally his eyes would have merrily skipped over such an unfortunately common sight, but this time he saw him. The man stood out from everyone else with his especially dingy clothes, his duffel bags, and his downcast expression. He was by far the saddest person on the street. Even the sun’s cheerful rays seemed to slip off of him.
Peter looked over at the hobo and felt a wave of pity come over him. He felt guilty about being so happy while this man was so obviously sad. He saw only one way to make himself feel better. He had to make this homeless man feel better.
The impulse to take this man and feed him was so sudden and overwhelming that before Peter knew what was going on, he was right in front of the vagabond saying, “Hey, you want a meal?”
The man didn’t move. Peter thought that he was rejecting his offer and was about to leave before he realized that the man didn’t hear him. Peter got down on one knee and asked again, “ Yo, buddy, do you want a hot meal?”
This time the hobo not only moved but also practically convulsed in reply. Peter could see panic and fear tense up the man’s entire body. Peter knew that his question had been abrupt, but hadn’t expected such a violent response.
“Hey, man, relax,” Peter said in his most soothing voice. “It’s not the end of the world anything. I was just thinking that you might appreciate some food is all.”
The man became like a stone. His face didn’t move at all. Peter felt a sudden overwhelming urge not to be there.
“Well, ok,” Peter said getting up. “ Well, if you’re not interested I’ll just being going then. Have a nice day.” He was turning to leave when he heard a swear and a gruff ‘Wait!’
Peter instinctively turned back to the hobo and almost wished that he didn’t. He didn’t want to deal with a bi-polar hobo when he was having such a nice day so far.
The hobo stood up and muttered, “ I’m too damn trusting and hungry for my own good.”
“Well, hopefully you won’t be hungry after the trusting part is finished,” Peter replied absentmindedly, staring intently at the man’s beaten up army boots. The hobo didn’t reply as he roughly grabbed his bag and jacket and looked at Peter expectantly.
Peter looked back at him, looking for any sign of a knife at all. He shook his head and reminded himself that not everyone on the street was trying to kill him, despite what his paranoid Uncle said. Peter asked the man if there was anywhere that he wanted to go.
“As long as they’ve got hot food, I’m happy.” He wasn’t looking Peter in the eye, which made Peter slightly uncomfortable. He thought to himself that he really didn’t want this man in his home and decided to take him to the closest diner.
They walked in silence over to the diner. It was only three minutes but it seemed much longer to Peter. He felt highly self-conscious walking with this man. He felt like everyone was staring at him. Some were, but not as much as Peter felt like they were.
They got to the diner and sat down at a back booth. They quickly ordered and were soon sitting in dead silence as they waited. It remained that way until the hobo decided to say, “ My name is Jack, by the way.”
“Peter,” Peter replied without looking up from the salt shaker which he had developed a great interest in in a short amount of time.
“I suppose you want to hear my story,” Jack said sighing.
To this Peter did look up. “ Only if you want to tell it.”
Jack shrugged, “ I’ve told it so many times I don’t care who hears it anymore.” He shifted in his seat and began in a monotone. His words were straightforward and speech-like, as if the story hadn’t happened to him but rather to some person he had met briefly and hadn’t liked. “I used to work at a fruit canning factory. I was one of those guys that watch the machines do their thing and make sure they kept doing it. Then the company decided that they couldn’t support the branch that controlled the fruit canning and everyone got laid off. I couldn’t find another job in time and my brother had to kick me out.”
“Wait a sec,” Peter interrupted. “ You mean your own brother kicked you out? How could he? I mean... he's family!”
“I couldn’t pay the rent and he couldn’t support me anymore. He has his own problems anyway. A controlling wife and a snot-nosed kid that needs Ritalin and a few other prescription drugs.” He spoke in the same voice all throughout this. Peter began to wonder how long ago this had happened.
“Do you still talk to your brother at all?” Peter asked.
“Can’t now, he died in a cave in. He was a miner. His wife and kids got a big fat pay off from it and are living in Florida with some Italian named Bernard. They long since forgot about me. I can see you don’t understand how someone can forget a relative so easily. It’s o.k. Obviously your family is a lot more caring than mine. That will help you in the long run.”
Indeed Peter couldn’t think of letting any of his siblings or even siblings-in-laws go out on the streets. At least one of his relatives would care enough to send a little something.
“Anyway, so where was I? Oh yah, so I’m out on the street with no job and no family or friends to take me in. I was never really popular at all. I was too trusting with people and they would rip me off. That’s how I got such a crappy job. I was going to go to college and all, instead I invested in my one friend’s business. I lost all of my money when the company went under and he took all the money in the company and ran. I’m just too damn trusting.” The last bit was the only part he said with any emotion.
“So, I was homeless and jobless and I decide to go to a shelter. I figure that was my best bet.”
“Makes sense,” Peter commented.
Jack nodded solemnly and continued, “It would have worked out pretty ok, I guess, if I had found a shelter, instead of the soldier men.”
“Soldier men?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.
Jack looked up at Peter and looked straight in his eyes. There was complete conviction in them. Peter shuddered at the pain in those eyes.
“Yes,” Jack repeated. “ Soldier men.” He looked over his shoulder like he expected everyone to be moving in closer to hear him. The diner was almost empty except for a couple over on the other side of the restaurant. Jack turned back to stare into Peter’s eyes again. Peter shuddered again.
“ It was a pretty clean looking building. No distinguishing marks on it, but one of the other guys out at this rundown bridge had told me about it, so I went. He said that it was a refuge for people like us. I liked the idea of a shelter at the time. I hadn’t had a decent meal in days and I was very cold. I’m just too damn trusting is the problem.
“So, I go to this place and it is completely pitch black. No light anywhere. I’m thinking that I’m in the wrong place and turn to go when I black out.”
“Black out?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow. “What happened?”
“Got hit over the head, that’s what happened. I still have the scar if you want to see it.” Jack began to turn and flip his hair.
“No, just keep going.” Peter didn’t believe this guy one bit, but at least it was an interesting story.
“So I come to and I’m in this big hangar place. I don’t know how to describe it exactly. It was a really large open room, but there was a lot of stuff going on.”
“What sort of stuff,” Peter asked.
“Experiments,” Jack whispered, “On humans.”
Peter stared at this man for all of three seconds before bursting out laughing. Jack looked annoyed at first but didn’t have time to backup what he had just said when the food came.
As soon as the waitress left, Jack leaned forward and whispered again, “I’m not joking, you know.”
Peter just shook his head and began to eat his BLT. Jack stared at him for a second before starting on his own meal. They ate in silence before Jack said, “Why don’t you believe me?”
Peter chuckled and replied, “ Because it’s impossible. There is no way you could have been kidnapped, or hobo-napped, or whatever. That’s why.”
Jack took another bite of his sandwich before asking, “ Why not?”
Peter shook his head and said, “ Because it’s just not logical. Why would they kidnap humans? There are plenty of lab rats out there. They would be just as good.”
“But what if they were testing something that would only work on humans?” Jack reasoned.
Peter shrugged and continued. “ Yah, I suppose so, but still. Why would they want to test anything?”
“To make weapons. Biological weapons.”
“Alright then, for what purpose?”
“World War IV”
“What? We just got done Word War III, why start another war when everyone is still beat up from everything?”
“That is exactly why. All the super powers of the world are beat up from one of the biggest wars in history and are all ripe for the picking, Think about all those small countries that haven’t got the man power to win a full fledged invasion. Biological weapons would easily get them any land they wanted.”
Peter rolled his eyes and started to stare at the salt shaker again. Everything Jack was saying sort of made sense. Now would be a perfect time to start an invasion, with all of the big countries in the world trying to catch their breath from the last war. It did make sense, except for one problem.
“How would you know?”
Jack looked up at the question and tilted with head with a politely puzzled expression.
“How would you know?” Peter repeated with an air of smugness. “Why would some strange and dissolute hobo on the street know about some huge underground laboratory that experiments on humans to make illegal biological weapons that can’t be tested on rats because they are specifically tuned to the human genetic code so that some weird backwater country can take over the world?”
Jack still looked puzzled. “Weren’t you listening to the story?” he said, “I was there.”
Peter raised his eyebrow again and replied, “Yes, I was listening, but that still doesn’t explain why you know all of this. If they were really trying to keep everything under wraps, which I understand is why they were taking worthless people off the street, why would they let you go to blab it to the world? There are more than one or two crazies out there who would believe you and check it out. Their cover would be completely blown. What, do you expect me to believe that you escaped through the ventilation shaft?”
Jack stared straight into Peter’s face and said, “No, not through the ventilation shaft. They were finished with a large group of people, myself being one of them. We were all herded into this one room and they started to inject everyone with a memory loss drug. Once people were injected they got very spacey and were released. All I had to do was look around blankly and mutter a bunch of nonsense words under my breath and they thought I had taken the drug and released me.”
Peter shrugged and turned back to his sandwich and Jack eventually did the same. Peter looked up at Jack and said, “ You said that they did experiments on you, right? So, what were they?”
Jack looked at him for a few seconds and said, “I’m not exactly sure that I have a liver anymore.”
Peter stared at him for a few seconds before returning to his sandwich. The rest of the meal was passed in complete and uncomfortable silence. Peter settled the check when it came and Jack thanked him graciously. As Jack turned to leave, Peter yelled out to him, “By the way, were is this building?”
Jack didn’t stop as he yelled out, “ On the corner on Anderson and Robins.” He was gone by the time Peter tried to ask him where that was.
Time traveled quickly after that meeting and Peter life returned to its normal schedule. As manager of a K-Mart, he was kept very busy at the change of the season as everyone was buying new clothes and appliances for the warmer weather. He didn’t have any spare time for himself or for any thoughts about what Jack the hobo had told him.
He saw Jack once or twice during that time and would always stop to ask how he was. Jack moved around a lot, but Peter ran into him anyway. Jack would always answer, “As well as can be expected,” which always killed any further conversation.
The thought of the featureless building, however, came to him in his twilight hours. He would spend several minutes every night thinking about it before sleep came over him.
A few weeks after his meal with Jack, Peter found himself in front of a street sign saying “Anderson St.” Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten there, but there he was. He had been out for a walk and had ended up here. Peter stared at the building for a few moments before deciding to follow the street until he got to Robins. Once he was there he saw a large building-sized cube with only a door as an entrance.
Time seemed to stop as Peter looked at the featureless cement block. He could tell why it seemed so harmless to Jack at first. The filth around it suggested it was an unused building. There was nothing to suggest that it was anything more than an abandoned warehouse. Even the neighborhood around it was barren. He didn’t see another person anywhere around.
Peter’s body moved on its own up to the door. He wanted to know what was in this building. He had to, no, he needed to know what was in there. He needed to know if Jack had been telling the truth about the solider men. If he didn’t go in there now, he would forever wonder what was in there.
The door opened easily and Peter stepped in. There was absolutely no light in the room. It could have been an airplane hangar for all Peter could tell. The black seemed all consuming. Peter walked out of the light the door let in and put his hand in front of his face. He couldn’t even see that. A sudden wave of fear washed over him and he sprinted to the door. He didn’t even make it half way there before he passed out from the taser shock.
“Man, I love these new tasers,” said one of the unseen men. “ They work so much better than the clubs we had to use before.”
“You’re just plain trigger-happy, aren’t you?” replied a good natured voice.
“You bet, wouldn’t have signed up if I wasn’t.”
Another man closed the door and turned on a flashlight to examine the catch of the day.
A commanding voice full of authority barked out, “ Check him over for ID. If he has so much as a driver’s license, wash him and throw him out.”
Unseen hands immediately set to work searching Peter’s unconscious body for anything that might cause them to let him go. One of the men quickly found his wallet and numerous credit cards and ID.
“Damn it, this one’s got a job, family, ID, and an apartment. We gotta let this one go.”
Most of the men whined loudly, reluctant to give up another catch. They all wanted another bonus for catching a worthless one.
The commanding voice barked out once again. “Quit your whining and just wash the man and get him home. You know the procedure.”
An unseen syringe came out and injected Peter with a memory erasing chemical. Just as the man was about to pull the syringe out, a loud sharp bang of a practice shot came from the back of the room. The man jumped and he injected more chemical then intended to into Peter.
“Damn it, Aaron. Why the hell did you have to do that? Now this guy isn’t going to remember anything in the last month.”
“Your fault, with your jumpy hands and all,” Aaron replied smugly.
Procedure continued to be followed and Peter, still unconscious was returned home in a featureless van and placed in bed by men no one ever saw.
The next day Peter woke up with the worst headache. He felt hungover, sick and just plain horrible. He continued to feel that way for almost a week. Whatever had made him sick also warped his memory since he couldn’t remember anything from the last few weeks. It took him awhile to get back into the groove of things at work, but he was able to do it. Life quickly turned back to its normal and boring drawl.
The next Thursday was a cool and windy day. Peter didn’t want to be outside but wanted to get the evening paper. As he walked along, he walked past a few homeless people along the side of the street. He purposely ignored them so he didn’t have to give them any money.
One of the men stared at him as he passed. Peter felt uncomfortable about this and tried even harder to ignore him.
Jack watched him pass with sadness as he realized that Peter no longer recognized him. He sighed as he thought to himself that he should never have told Peter about the featureless building.
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