Tug Was Our Thing

“Do you think it has changed a lot?”

I was too busy cross-referencing my list of questions to hear that the Mark was talking to me. It was not until she called me by name that I caught on.

“Excuse me?”

“Since you were here, do you see a lot of changes?”

“I am having trouble recognizing anything familiar,” I answered honestly.

“Eldon, when was the last time we were down here?”

Make-believe Eldon must have been working on his own list, because he didn't respond to her either.

“Eldon?”

She let go of the steering wheel with her right hand and reached over to touch him on the leg. He started just as he had when I got too close to him earlier.

He looked down to the Mark's hand and then, as though following the line of her arm, he slowly raised his head until their eyes met.

“Yes, dear?” he said.

“Do you remember the last time we were out here?” the Mark asked.

“Yesterday?”

He had a strange expression on his face as though he knew the right answer, but was not certain if that fit the question he was answering.

You had to admire the craftsmanship.

“That's right. He's right, we were out here yesterday afternoon,” said the Mark.

“We were hoping to get a room over the water, but, with it being off-season and all....” Her voice trailed off.

“I am surprised with all these places that are here now, that one wouldn't be open.” I was aware of the effort it took to speak slowly and loudly enough to be heard over the road noise.

“So were we,” said the Mark. “One of the reasons we went into town was to call around and make sure we had a place before we needed to find one.”

“Good thinking,” I said before slumping back into my seat.

“After we're done at the park, we're headed to Murray Hill. Ever been there?”

Now it was my turn to be startled.

It couldn't have been a coincidence....

Save the Mark, play the Mark.

What could be in it for me to voluntarily go back to the Palace? That didn't make any sense.

I was out and I wanted to stay out.

Walking away from these two would not be difficult, especially if Pretend Eldon was intent on not breaking character. But, if I walked off the field, I would have to go dark and stay dark.

There was a time, right after the sheet cake, that I was ready to do that. I had plans and back-up plans, go-bags and dead-drops all worked out, but it's a full-time job keeping that current. The more time went by, the more people died, the safer I felt.

You can't stand guard duty all the time.

Like newstands, my networks began to close down one after the other until there were just a handful of drops around my house and I'm not sure I remember where all of them are anymore.

No, running was not an option; who would take care of my dog?

I had to play the hand.

Play the mark, save the Mark.

As I stared out the car window watching the cows that were watching us, I ran through a series of plays; if-this-then-that scenarios.

All I managed to accomplish was to give myself a headache.

“Can we stop for a moment?” I asked the Mark. “I need to find a restroom.”

“Oh, certainly,” she said. “What a good idea. It's about time for elevenses anyway. Eldon?”

Again, the Mark reached over and touched her make-believe husband on his leg and he jumped just as though someone had handed him a bare wire in a rainstorm.

“What? Oh...,” he said.

“I'm sorry, dear. I was just wondering if you'd like a coffee.”

“What time is it?”

“Just about eleven, dear.”

“Oh, I don't know. It's too early to take my pills, but if you two want to, that'll be fine.”

“What about the restroom?” she countered.

“Probably a good idea,” he said.

“That's settled then,” said the Mark. “Now we just have to figure out where.”

“I wonder where the locals go?” I said to nobody in particular.

“On vacation,” saod Eldon.

It was a good line, expertly timed and the Mark received it in much the same way as when her first-born first said “Mama.”

She laughed at the joke and said to me under her breath, “He's still in there.”

The man known as Eldon turned around to look at me. His mouth was smiling, but he had those operator eyes again.

I needed more intel: some sort of a handle on what was going on.

So far, this had been a two-handed game: me and the dealer. The phone and the atlas code at least introduced the possibility of a third player.

I needed a read on that person.

“There's a place,” I said.

“Where?” asked the Mark.

“Ahead on the left. See where the truck pulled out?”

“I see it,” said the Mark.

“It looks like a souvenir shop,” said Eldon.

“They might have coffee,” I said. “But they're certain to have a restroom.”

And a chance to introduce myself to the newest player.

The relatively smooth highway road surface gave way to the crushed stone of the gift shop's parking lot and it suddenly seemed as though we were driving on a carpet of bubble wrap.

I remember it feeling good to be out of the car: I was reaching my limit on confined spaces.

We were getting closer to the ocean. You could smell the salt in the air. It immediately reminded me of trips I used to make with the family.

We were never ones to go to a place and stay there, we were samplers. We would visit a place long enough to collect all the brochures and buy the authorized set of slides and then it was back in the car and on to the next place.  

The gift shop smelled.

There is no other way to describe it.

I'm sure the owners meant well: each display, each line of merchandise seemed to chosen because it fit their very personal vision about what an almost-seaside community should be, or smell like, but when you put a complete line of scented candles next to a complete line of flavored popcorn, next to a full-service flavored coffee bar, a cotton candy station and a tank full of barely alive lobsters, the overwhelming impression was more bus station restroom than tourist attraction.

I pushed through the various scent fronts and headed to the back of the store.

Sure enough, there was a restroom.

The moment I walked in, it was clear, they were waiting for the end of the season to clean.  Management's idea of sanitation was to change the cartridge in the deodorizer to an ever-increasing strength.

I closed the door behind me, locked it, and threw my weight up against it.

I fished the phone out of my pocket and punched in the numbers.

“I see you haven't lost your taste for the classics,” said the voice that answered.

“The good ones never go out of style,” I said.

“You have questions,” said the Voice.

“What I have is a dog,” I said. “He needs me. He doesn't like a lot of people.”

“Is that nature, or nurture, I wonder,” said the Voice.

“They say opposites attract,” I said after a pause.

“But then there are exceptions to every rule,” the Voice replied.

“Enough romance.”

“Agreed.”

“What's the threat?”

“We don't know.”

“Are you--? Is this some kind of test?”

“No.... But you will be graded.”

“The operator?”

“What operator?”

“The--. He knew me at the Palace.”

“Friendly?”

“I don't know what that means anymore.”

“What did they want?”

“I'm supposed to get us back to the Palace by the end of the day.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Find out what you can,” said the Voice.

“How's my dog?”

“Check your phone,” the Voice said just before the line went dead.

As I pulled the phone away from my ear, I felt it vibrate. A banner appeared on the screen indicating I had received a text message.

Attached to the message was a video of my dog playing tug with the anonymous cameraman.

Tug, that was our thing.

I moved away from the door to wash my hands. I had only touched the door, but I felt I needed whole body decontamination.

There was a knock at the door.

“Just a minute, “ I said.