Gifts and Consequences (16 page)

-yes you wld

-try it  and find out

-what about Peter? will you go if he goes?

-theres no way my mom will let me

-just tell her youre going to tryshas house like last time

-last time was jst 4 a couple hours, not 2 days

-OK, what if I get error:355?  Would that require a full reboot.

-A reboot would work, but it’s overkill.  You’re better off taking care of it through the system administrator toolbar…

There was nothing good on.  Katherine sat at her monitor switching at lighting speed from one chat room to another.  She usually found at least a few engaging conversations, but so far this shift had been pure drivel. 

“Enough chat,” she said.  “Time for email.” 

“If you would like to be able to satisfy a woman like never before, try…”

“Next,” she said.

“…would like to help out with coaching.  If you can use someone on Thursday afternoons give me a call…”

“Next.”

Programs in Katherine’s workstation scanned thousands of email messages every hour.  Each was inspected for the key words “if” in sentences with “would” or “will”.  It took into consideration contractions such as “I’d” and “she’ll”. 

Another search combination that sometimes returned interesting results was “if” and “never”.  Ninety-nine times out of a hundred it was in a context she didn’t care about.  But when it was the correct one it was often a homerun.

She was shocked when Jonathan first offered the Finder job.  She refused offhand, thinking that intercepting email was illegal and the whole business was shady.  He told her that she was correct, intercepting email was illegal.  But he clarified by explaining that she would be reading other people’s email, not intercepting it.  The email would still be delivered to the intended recipient.

The two biggest shocks once she started the job were the sheer volume of sexually explicit dialogue over chats and emails and how easy it was to become an uninvited observer.  Sometimes she felt like she was trudging through a swamp of smut, trying to find people that fit a certain profile.

Ever since middle school she loved romance novels, but she’d never read anything to compare with what she saw in chat rooms.  Katherine didn’t have a favorite author, but had a thing for books with Fabio on the cover.  She had a collection of over 250 of his books.  Behind her bedroom door hung a poster of him on the cover of
A Time for Romance
.

Even though she enjoyed reading romantic fantasies, she did not participate in them herself.  Katherine VanHooten was as straight-laced as they came.  She dated occasionally, but at the age of twenty-three she was still a virgin.  She was perfectly content as an outside observer of relationships, so naturally she loved her job.

Katherine had always been a fan of reality TV.  She never missed an episode of “The Real World” or “Survivor”, and she regularly tuned into a dozen other reality shows.  Her job gave her the same thrill but in a different way.  A more tangible way.  Reality TV compared to a shift at work was like cotton candy compared to rich fudge.  But that didn’t mean she gave them up. 

Reading emails, spying on chats, and tapping into cell phone calls gave her a direct “in”.  It was much more realistic, not having passed through producers and editors.  People acted more naturally when there was no camera in their face.  The tradeoff was having to sort through hundreds of conversations to find one that was worth following.

An intercepted email had led her to the unusual occupation in the first place.  In a casual note to a friend she wrote that if she had a way to pay for the surgery her cat needed she would volunteer at the Humane Society every day for a year.

Jonathan showed up at her apartment the next day.  Within three days her cat had a cone on its neck to keep it from licking the incision.  A year later she had logged over five hundred volunteer hours at the Oak Creek branch of the Humane Society.  The job offer from Jonathan came the day after she fulfilled the bargain.

“… to go out to eat if I get home early.  My boss said he would have Tony cover for me…”

“If you buy it will you burn a copy for me?”

“If I get into law school this year I swear I’ll do some pro bono work every week for the rest of my career.”

That one looked like a possibility.  She typed up a short description, printed it, and set it on a small pile of possibles for Annaya.  After Annaya added some background on the prospect she’d hand it on to Marcus.  Jonathan would review it next time he was in the office.

 Katherine had been on the swing shift, a “swinger”, ever since she started working for Jonathan.  The schedule didn’t interfere with her social life or family life—since she had neither—so it worked just fine for her.  The other people on her shift were easy to get along with, and eerily similar to her.  They hadn’t started hanging out on their days off or anything, but they enjoyed working together. 

Casey was the other Finder.  Will was the Tracker, and Annaya was the Digger.  Annaya also helped Will with the Tracking and did Finding in her spare time, but her specialty was getting the goods on people.  She proudly claimed, “I can find the fake Social Security number of a German immigrant who worked one day in the US in 1938 before turning around and getting back on the boat.”

Marcus, Jonathan, and Oscar usually only made appearances on the swing shift for important Tracking deadlines or events. 

Like the time Lisa Knapp came within an inch of taking her life.  Maybe only a quarter inch.  Katherine didn’t really know how far a trigger had to be pulled for a gun to discharge.  She googled it and found out it varied from one sixteenth of an inch to five eighths of an inch for most guns. 

Another great day was when Francisco finished running.  He started right after work on a Friday and finished fifty hours later on Sunday evening. 

Nothing changed much when the upper staff was around.  It usually meant a little excitement for the shift, since big events were the only thing that brought them in.  Either someone had reached a deadline, or had broken the terms of an agreement. 

Katherine tried not to think about that.

Finally she saw something that really caught her eye:

“…going to lose all 160 units.  If I could find a way to pay for the remodel I’d turn half my units into low rent…”

If she had gained any sort of barometer for the type of projects Jonathan preferred, this one was a winner.  Using her computer she sent a text message to Marcus, then signaled Annaya to start gathering information on Mr. Talbot.

The best cases were the ones in which nobody could guess the outcome.  Reality TV had nothing on this.

Kiersten was on duty again when Jonathan got home.  He chatted with her for a while before making his way down the hallway to his wife’s room.  He stood in front of Susan’s door longer than usual. 
Has it really been less than a day since I saw her?
  The ordeal with Allen felt like a week ago, not twenty-two hours.

He had never met anyone as stubborn as that man, including himself.  Allen insisted on following not only the letter of his agreement, but the spirit of it as well.  He was exactly the kind of person with whom Jonathan loved doing business.  Jonathan could usually tell how each deal would turn out before it was over, but had no idea Allen would keep his word to this extent. 

The minor victories he had to claim from the trip were the bear spray that Allen now carried and the new watch he had accepted.  Between the watch and the GPS transmitter, Jonathan’s Tracker could now tell exactly where on the planet, within five feet, Allen was.  The new watch, a Suunto T6c, also uploaded his pulse rate in a constant stream.  The second the watch left his wrist, the Tracker would receive an alarm. 

Or in the worst case scenario, they would know when and where Allen’s heart stopped beating.

Jonathan was stalling.  Last night was the first time Susan failed to recognize him.  He couldn’t help but take it personally, as any husband of twenty-two years would.  Although he knew it had to happen eventually, it was like a knife in the heart.  Two days in a row would be a very bad sign.

He steeled himself and entered the room.  Susan was standing at the window.  As he crossed the expansive cream carpet she turned to look at him.  He watched her face carefully for signs of recognition.  He didn’t even see a glimmer.  In addition, her face—normally blank yet content—was scrunched in worry. 

Foregoing his normal greeting, he placed the flower in the small vase, absently discarding yesterday’s flower.  He walked to her, placed a hand gently on her shoulder and asked, “Is everything okay?”

She shook her head, the worry growing in her expression.  “No.  No, I don’t remember where Mary went.  I…don’t know where she is.”

Jonathan’s stomach sank.  Susan’s only sister, Mary, had been dead for three and a half years.  She died six months before Susan’s diagnosis.  Mary had the same kind heart as Susan.  An outbreak of botulism claimed her life along with the lives of a dozen tribespeople. 

What worried Jonathan was that he and Susan had visited Ghana to retrieve the body.  They had planned the entire funeral service.  It was a large affair.  Hundreds of people from her volunteer organization attended along with scores of friends.  There were no other family members to attend, but dozens of people gave personal testimony to her selfless life and gift for changing people.  CNN even did a short feature on her life and sacrifice.

Jonathan didn’t have the heart to tell her Mary was dead.  In her worried state it was impossible to know how she would react.  “I’m sure she’s fine, Honey.”

“No, I don’t remember where Mary went.”  She turned back to the window and looked out into the darkness.

“She’s sleeping,” he told her. 

“But, I can’t remember where she went.”  She looked around for a solution.

Jonathan took her by both shoulders.  “I know you’re worried, Susan.  I talked to Mary a little while ago.  She’s at home.  Sleeping.  Home, remember?”

“But I can’t…I…”

“Mary’s at home, and she’s fine.  She just laid down and now she’s sleeping.”

The worry eased from her face, but not completely. 

“Let’s have a seat over here, Susan.”  He led her to her chair and she sat without speaking.  Jonathan took his accustomed position next to her.  “You look worried, would you like to hear a story?”

Susan still looked to be on the verge of tears.  She nodded. 

“Once there was a young couple who had been married for eight years.  More than anything they wanted children, but they were unable to conceive.  The husband worked at a gas station and the wife was an LPN.  Even after saving for years, infertility treatments were much too expensive.”

Susan wrung her hands in her lap as she listened to the story.

“A stranger showed up at their house and offered to pay for infertility treatments on the condition that if they conceived a girl he would be allowed to pick the name.  A year and a half later they had a baby girl.”

Still no signs of recognition showed on Susan’s face.

“Would you like to know the name he chose?”

She nodded. 

“Susan,” Jonathan told her.  “They named the baby Susan.”

“That’s my name,” she said with a timid smile. 

Jonathan nodded, unable to speak. 

When the emotion passed, he asked, “Would you like to hear another story?”

Worry still creased Susan’s brow.  She nodded.

Jonathan told her about a man who stayed in one spot in his yard for over a month.  A woman who gave up soda pop in exchange for a college education.  And a boy whose grandpa was given a brand new house.  As long as the boy mowed the lawn weekly through the summer, raked the leaves in the fall, and shoveled snow after every storm, his grandpa could stay in the small house.  The boy was only nine years old when he made the promise, and as of his twelfth birthday he had not missed once.

With each story Susan relaxed more and her natural smile returned.  He was still blown away by her beauty.  Jonathan hoped that deep down, somewhere in her deteriorating mind she appreciated the opportunities that were given to the people in the stories.  After all the years of service Susan had given, if anything soothed her it would be gifts and good choices.