Sunday
(Leif Blackstone
Tweet—Tweet—Tweet… Ugh, that stupid bird is at it again. I'm still a little hungover from last night's festivities. Why does he start so early in the morning? Its tweeting is giving me a major headache. As I sit in a daze, surveying my messy room, I can't help but ask myself what day it is. I'm almost positive it's Sunday.
My name is Leif Blackstone, I’m a twenty-two-year-old young healthy guy, and it's my day off from work.
While popping some aspirin while cooking eggs, I’m left wondering why my life turned out this way.
My parents hold considerable wealth and power in society. When I was in my final year of high school, I ran into some trouble at school. They could have easily intervened to help me out, but as the youngest child, with my older siblings already seen as perfect, they chose to let me handle it on my own. Things only worsened from there, and ultimately, all my college applications were rejected. My father and I had a major argument, and since that night, we have not talked.
I wandered around from dead-end job to dead-end job until my eldest brother took pity on me and got me on at the science institute my family owns in a small town in North Carolina. It's a very (I must stress very) small town with not much going on. My brother and I are the only ones on speaking terms in my family.
After scarfing down some eggs and wasting the day away playing the new game I recently bought, I decided to check in with my brother Jeremy.
“Hey bro, how's it going?”
“It's been good, Leif.”
“Margaret just started kindergarten.” Margy, as I like to call her, is my niece.
“I'm glad she is doing well. Just make sure she is getting raised better than us, or I might have to pay you a visit.” Growing up in our house, you were either first or nothing. Our mother and father were really cold. They only had children to maintain the family name and expand their business.
“Don't worry. Margaret will always know that she is loved in our house.”
It's funny Jeremy turned out the most well-adjusted out of all three of us siblings. Our parents were always the hardest on him growing up.
“Listen, little bro, Jennifer and Margaret want to put a food package for you together. I told her I would ask you for a few things.”
“You married a goddess.” I can hear laughter on the other line after my comment.
“Beef jerky and pickles are a must. Anything that little Debbie makes will also do.”
“Yes. Yes. I hear you, and I recall your pickle obsession. So on another note, do you want to come for Thanksgiving this year? Alex said she will be there.”
“Yeah, that's the way to get me to come, Jeremy; mention the ice queen.”
“Our sister isn't that bad, Leif.”
“She's exactly like our parents. I can't stand her.”
“Okay, I told Jennifer I would ask. Will you at least come to New Year's?”
“I will try jer. Listen, I need to get off here; give my love to Margy and Jenny.
“Goodbye.”
Click. I hang up the phone.
(That would be the last time I talked to my brother. I never did tell him goodbye or get that jerky.)
My nights are all messed up because I usually arrive at work late at night and leave early in the morning. It's a massive institute with four different buildings and several floors. Each room is somewhat unique. (Don't worry; this job keeps me entertained.) Also, it pays significantly more than what I was earning before my brother decided to step in and help me out.
Monday
Tweet-tweet-tweet
The bird has started chirping again. That's it; I'm borrowing a rifle from my buddy Wade next week. My stomach drags me to the kitchen. As I open the fridge, all the shelves are empty except for a glass of pickle juice with no pickles in it. Ugh, I decide to go to the grocery store and fill up on supplies for the week. I am still learning how to be a responsible adult. After collecting all of my groceries and returning home in my twenty-year-old car. A text message arrives on my phone.
Mark: “My wife wants to know if you want to come to a BBQ at our house this coming Saturday.”
Me: “I guess, why a BBQ?”
Mark: “Will explain when I see you next.”
Wonder what that's about.
May have bought too many groceries. That's why they say never shop on an empty stomach. After eating lunch that kind of turned into dinner, I decided to do a small workout; after that, I take a shower, and it's time to head to work.
My work is at the Gideon Science Institute. Don't get excited about me working in a lab. My job is to mop floors and take out the trash. Nine months now I have been with the institute and have gotten promoted from cleaning out toilets. That job went to the new guy that started out a month ago. (He he, the sucker).
It's only a fifteen-minute trip to work. They make entry-level employees pull around to the back. (All significant persons are allowed to go to the front gate.) Where we are still scrutinized for identification and written up when we arrive. I'm generally quite good about arriving on time.
“Hey Lief.”
“Hi Jeff. Here's my ID.”
Jeff is a black man in his early forties who has always been straightforward with me. "Be careful when you come out, kid; there are supposed to be some bad storms in the area this week."
“Thanks, Jeff, I will watch myself.”
While pulling around to the employee parking area, I see a few people who have the same job as me getting here as well. Looks like Mark and Wade are already here. I see Mark's truck, and Wade usually rides with him into work. They are about the only two that I hang out with in this town. Also, we partner up on one of the floors.
As I pass through the doors, I pull out my badge and clip it to my shirt.The building I'm walking through is amazing, but the main building where all the key people work is even larger and brighter. I wouldn't know because I've never been through it but have seen it from a distance. This property is truly quite large, and it takes a while to travel from one end to another. All four buildings are connected in some form, whether via a wing or a hallway. There are a lot of army-looking guards driving around in golf carts, and there are cameras everywhere.
I go through the metal detector, then the scanner. (Sometimes, I think these guys take their job too serously). An old guy with a beer gut named John waves me through, and I stroll down the halls and make some turns until I reach the custodians' locker room. There is no clock in the machine. Usually, John taps something on his laptop to indicate that we are checking in, and our weekly payments are deposited directly into our bank accounts. I attempted to make John laugh the first few times I came here. What a flop that was.You could tell he wasn't liking them, so I had to quit because every time I came in, he had a sour look on his face. Now he doesn't look at me like I'm gum on the bottom of his shoes. He looks at me like I'm mentally slow.
So I got my cart loaded down with cleaning supplies and my trusty mop. I'm given sixteen rooms on the third and fourth floors, ranging in size from tiny to big. On the third floor, I manage ten rooms by myself. Most nights, I can do the third floor very quickly. It's a standard science lab with strange-looking lasers and microscopes. One of the rooms has an odd quarantine door that says not to go past it as well. After the third floor, I break to eat in the cafeteria.
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The cafeteria is in a separate building, and I have to walk a lengthy hallway to get there for my lunch break. Four different restaurants are typically open there. They just leave two of them open, though, during the late shifts.So it is either burritos or hot sandwiches. I generally rotate them every other day, but last week I had a nasty burrito encounter that upset my stomach all night. So, I'm sticking with sandwiches this week.
In the cafeteria I see my two friends that are older than me by about ten years. I was eating on my own alone every night in the institute for around two weeks when they slammed their food down and started talking to me as if they had been around me for years. Mark always calls me kid, even though I am taller than him. All the members in my family are on the tall side.
My dad, being the tallest, is six foot eight.
My brother is six foot seven.
I’m six foot six.
My mom and sister are right near six feet.
I'm glad I finally met good friends like these two. Growing up at my private school, they turned kids against each other. Once they heard my last name, they either avoided me or tried to get close to me for the wrong reasons. So growing up, I could only rely on Jeremy, but he was five years older than me.
“Hey Marky, you got your first floor done.”
“The name's Mark, wiseass kid.” See, he thinks I’m smart because I have a wise ass.
Wade just gives me a look and a nod. That's pretty much what I always get off him. He never really talks.
“Yeah, I finished 20 minutes ago, kid. Just waiting for you to finish so we can knock out the fourth floor.
Despite the fact that we mostly work on specific floors. The fourth floor is unique. Three of us enter each of the six rooms and complete them, all while being watched by an armed guard who appears to remain on the fourth level at all times. He resembles a linebacker and is actually taller than me and built like a tank. He's been waiting for me to do something dumb ever since I asked to see his weapon. He completely forbids us from communicating while we are working together. Although we can chat with him, we are not permitted to speak to one another.
They waited for me to finish off my sandwich, which was a yummy Cuban with pickles on it. How anyone could eat a sandwich without pickles is beyond me.
Then we head outside for a smoke break. Smoking has never been my thing. It would become an addiction that I do not need. Wade and Mark light one up and both take long drags.
“So Mark, what's up with the BBQ on Saturday? I, was really looking forward to the batting cages.”
Mark sighs. “Beth really wants to host a party. She says it's better than us three stumbling around trying to swing a bat while drinking.” Which has turned into our new favorite sport that we have been playing the last couple of Saturdays. Mark got clipped in the head by a ball last time after his ninth shot of bourbon. Beth got a little mad at us the last time we brought him home because of his injury.
Mark is the only one of us three that is married. He also has two kids. His wife lets him out on Saturdays to play as long as we return him before Sunday morning.
“What do you think about this, Wade?”
Wade takes a long drag of his cig and blows it out. He scrunches his shoulders up like, what can you do? He's of no help.
“I guess it's fine, but next week we are hitting the batting cages again.” I reiterate.
Mark smiles and shakes his head, “Deal.”
Wade checks his watch and then points towards the door.
They both crush their cigarettes out and throw them in the bin. I'm not sure how folks continue to buy smokes. They have risen to an absurd price of eleven dollars a pack.
We head up to retrieve one of the carts, while the other pulls two mop buckets. We push the fourth-floor button. The elevator bell rings, and we walk away. There's around thirty feet of hallway before two double steel doors. They're around four inches thick. I doubt even C4 could help get you past that door, but I'm no expert. A pair of surveillance cameras are directed along the corridor and another pointed at the door. Rex stands next to the door, with two desktop computers and a small desk that he is too big for.
He is perfectly qualified to bear the name Rex, but I'm not sure if it was his given name or something he picked up in the service. As soon as we step out of the elevator, I can feel his sneer and smoldering eyes.
While Mark stays and mops the hallway, Wade and I walk down towards the big T-rex.
“Hey Rexy, have you seen any bad guys lately?” (I just can't help myself; I tend to ramble when I'm nervous.) Wade just shakes his head like, not again.
All we hear from the large gorilla is "BADGES," and I can actually see smoke coming from his nostrils, as if he were able to breathe fire.
He uses his handy gadget to scan them once we remove them from our chest. After returning them, he wields his wand and examines us like a security guard at an airport. He then proceeds behind his desk, presses a few buttons, and a door opens sideways. It's just large enough to easily maneuver our carts through.
"Only do this hallway." Another hallway, roughly fifteen feet long, splits into two directions. We already know we can only do the first and second hallways, but he still feels the need to remind us every time. So I'll do this one while Mark finishes the first one. Wade stands to the side, and Rex continues to glance between me and Mark. He has his hand near his pistol the entire time.
Mark and I finally finish, and Rex comes over and performs the same song and dance with the wand and ID for Mark. He then moves to the wall and presses several buttons near the left hallway. Swipes his card, and we enter. There's another hallway that leads to two doors. After clearing up the hallway, we go into the first door on the left.
It's titled ‘Cogitate.’ We freshen up the room. Trash, mop, and wipe down all of the desks. The space is quite large, with whiteboards and mathematics scribbled all over it. Rex does not move his gaze away from us, as if we are about to start taking pictures or something. We are not allowed to use our phones inside the facility, so we normally leave them in our cars. I realize he's just doing his job, and I understand that this is a top-tier institute headed by a lot of influential individuals, and much of this is quite important. He's still an ass, nonetheless.
So we end up across the corridor in the second room, which bears the name ‘Hic Sub Mari.’ There is a large aquarium-sized fish tank against a wall. It's about twice my height. The funny thing is that the water is black. So you truly can't see what's within. My hand knocked on the glass once early on, and Rex took his pistol from his holster and instructed me not to do it again. He didn't put the gun back into its holster until we left the room. It was the most stressful day that I've ever had while working at the institute. There are several tubes and other items entering the glass tank, indicating that something is happening. There is a control panel on the left side of the room that we are not authorized to touch. We grab out the glass cleaners and begin to work. Because of the room's big fish tank, it takes us longer to complete the room.
We finally finished the second room and proceeded down the opposite hallway, which contained four rooms. The first one is a bathroom with only one toilet and sink. (It simply says bathroom outside.) I'm the one who got to clean this room because I'm still at the bottom of the barrel of three.(I'm working my way up the ladder).
The second room is labeled 'Murus.' The room is relatively small, with eight distinct podiums. Each has a button in a glass container with a keyhole on the side of the podium. The only thing that comes to me is nuclear warheads, which a science lab would not have, right? (hahahahaha….)
If the other rooms weren't unique enough, the last two could be the strangest I've ever seen. So, in the third room in this hallway, designated ‘Vir Fortis,’ are three distinct statues standing about 10 feet apart on an elevated podium. There's no screen. You could simply stroll up and touch one if you didn't believe Rex would shoot you. They are all the same size, standing about seven or eight feet tall. Made entirely of marble. The statues depict different creatures, and the amount of detail on these sculptures is astounding. I'm honestly amazed they're not in a museum of some sort.
The first one is about a giant snake. It resembles a massive anaconda or python. Its scales are intricately carved, reflecting light in a way that makes it almost lifelike. As I move closer, I can see the fierce expression on its face, with sharp fangs bared as if ready to strike at any moment. It's wrapped around a monument of sorts. Curling around it from bottom to top. With its head poking out from the side near the top. A few symbols I am unable to identify are carved into the statue.
The second one resembles a 3-D painting. The bottom seems like a detailed city. Hidden underneath the city are what look like bats. I can't tell you whose city it is, but the second top part is of the sun. The sun has so much detail that it appears to be scorching down on the city. The painting only shows one figure, who appears to be praying while looking up at the sun, with a cave full of bats underneath.
The last statue is the one that draws my eye. Where the first two almost seem immoral, the last is of a giant bird. With a very long stretching tail. The bird is depicted in mid-flight, its wings spread wide as if embracing the wind. Every feather is able to be seen in a muted tone while the bird flies high in the sky. An orb or pearl is seen in the beak of the bird. Almost as if it just dropped from the sky to catch the precious gem.
We can mop the floors, but we can't touch the sculptures. For the life of me, I don't understand why they're here. They are equally realistic and creepy. I remember watching this show as a kid about a man being followed by statues. However, they only became active when you blinked or glanced away. So eerie sculptures are not usually my cup of tea.
The last room, titled 'Stan-Hengen,' appears to contain a second depiction of Stonehenge. I've never been, but I've seen enough photos online. The only difference is that the stones contain some strange symbols on them. I'm not sure how they obtained these big stones and put them one on top of the other. They're all lined up in a circle, but the bizarre aspect is that they're on what appears to be beach sand. So the floor is tiled for 15 feet before switching to sand. To the right of the room, there are several computers and monitors, as well as a number of switches. So they are obviously monitoring something here.
Oh, and there's one scientist who never seems to leave, sitting on a couch in the corner with a book. Dustin appears to be in his late forties. He is always there in this room, typically in a different location, whenever we come to clean. As you could expect, we are not permitted to speak with him, and I, too, made the same error. So I've broken a number of regulations at one point or another. But not enough to get me fired.
So, with my family name being such a big deal, why am I not further up the totem pole here? This was pretty much the only job my brother could get me that my father tolerated. Also, no one at work knows my whole name. I always go by Leif Blackstone. While using my mother's maiden name, not even my two best friends know.
After completing the room, we leave with our buckets and carts. Before we head to the elevator, I smile at Rex as he looks over our passes once more. Before I board the elevator, I give him one more glance. He's still glaring at me like he's about to shoot me from across the room.
We exit down and store all our work items away in our supply building. We have John scan our badges as we are walking out. I wonder if these guys are thinking the same thing that I am always thinking and that this place is a little nuts. The only thing is when each of us was hired for the job, a guy in a nice suit told us we are not allowed to talk about the things we see in the institute. He also said we will know if you do.
