Green Backpacks
How to spend one thousand dollars?
One thousand dollars cash, just for the delivery of a small piece of cardboard. Brian’s imagination had been expanding the list of possible ways to spend all those dollars ever since the green backpack arrived four days ago.
Today is delivery day, a three hour train ride to the city. Brian closed his eyes for a little more imagining as the midday express hummed its soothing rhythm on the rails.
Something rattled in the rack above his head. Brian returned to the real world with a start and glanced up quickly to check on his backpack. All good, just moved a bit. He reached down and patted the small piece of cardboard taped to his ankle. He had seen information carried like this in a movie and thought it added a secret agent touch. With his sock covering it no-one could tell anything was there.
The opportunity for his secret agent adventure arrived after he answered a positions vacant notice in the local paper. “Wanted, small item delivered. Payment. Reply box 274.’ That’s all the notice said. Brian applied.
Two days later a courier arrived at his front door with the green backpack. The backpack contained the piece of cardboard Brian now had taped to his ankle and a single page of instructions. The last line on the instruction sheet, ‘MEMORISE AND DESTROY’ in bold letters, prompted the secret agent in Brian.
Brian closed his eyes and returned to his contemplation of spending one thousand dollars.
A voice intruded, a voice connected to the sudden pressure on his shoulder. “Have you got it?” The words held no relevance in Brian’s contemplation.
“Have you got it?” The shaking of his shoulder, combined with the increased urgency in the voice, prompted a sharp response from Brian.
“What are you doing?” Brian twisted his shoulder away from the offending hand.
The hand withdrew and the tone softened. “Have you got it?”
Brian focused on the direction of the voice. Someone was standing over him, a female, swaying gently with the motion of the train. Her persistent question lost its relevance as the contradictions between his observations and his expectations failed to align.
Brian sat up abruptly and raised one hand in preamble to an admonishing speech. The questioner reacted instantly. She stepped back and raised her left hand in a shielding motion as her right hand was thrust into her jacket pocket. She pushed the contents of the pocket against the fabric of the jacket, threatening, in Brian’s direction.
Unseen, unknown, it mattered not. Brian lowered his hand very slowly and looked more closely at his questioner. An attractive young lady wearing a bulky red jacket in the middle of summer and dirty running shoes in combination with tailored slacks.
For his last moments of life Brian had considered a number of options. A new option was always welcome. His thoughts went into hyper mode. Her red jacket was stained, it was several sizes too big and two of the button holes were torn. Robbed and shot on a train by a lady in a dirty, stolen, red jacket. Brian’s inner self smiled, he inhaled his last breath slowly, deliberately.
Their eyes met. Cold eyes, unblinking, penetrating and focused on a point between his eyes. Brian closed his eyes, and waited.
The waiting continued, beyond the need to breathe. With the best non-threatening movement he could summon Brian released his last breath accompanied by a reassuring smile as he carefully opened his eyes.
With a new final breath and his ‘special occasion’ friendly voice Brian whispered a solution to their situation. “I think you have the wrong person.”
Her slow determined head shake indicated a different response was required. The hand in the jacket pocket moved slightly and something clicked. Brian searched for a new response. A memory from long ago reminded him of a childhood dare. ‘Do it or die.’
He estimated the distance between them, drew a sharp breath and tensed his body. The door at the far end of the carriage burst open. A group of noisy children rushed into the carriage and ran towards them along the passageway. The questioner stepped back out of their way. Brian took the opportunity to raise his hands as they approached. “Wait.”
His word penetrated through the noise and appeared to gain a favourable response from the questioner. Brian pursued his advantage while the distraction of the passing intruders offered the opportunity. “Who are you?”
“Nobody.” She watched Brian with unwavering intensity. As the last of the children passed between them she realigned the unseen pocket contents of her jacket towards Brian in a deliberate threatening motion.
“Nice name.” Brian added yet another last moments of life option to his collection, saying something profound. To his surprise Nobody took her hand out of the jacket pocket and for just a moment looked confused. “Are you Brian?”
Brian nodded just as the public address system came to life announcing the train’s next stop. Passengers rose from their seats and began moving along the passageway. Brian and Nobody watched each other carefully as the first of them approached.
Brian seized the initiative. “So tell me Miss Nobody.” He paused as several people walked between them. A fleeting smile touched her lips and her cold eyes warmed for a moment. “What has your Brian person got that is so important?”
Miss Nobody replied softly, almost to herself, as if repeating a briefing session “A blue shirt and receding hair.” She pointed at Brian’s blue shirt then glanced up at the overhead rack. “A green backpack and on the midday express to the city.” Her hands gestured an invitation for Brian’s response. Brian remembered the instructions, ‘Know nothing, say nothing.’
The hum of steel wheels on steel rails faded as the train slowed and finally stopped at the platform. The silence between Miss Nobody and Brian drifted towards awkward as they delved into their own options of suspicion and deceit. Brian stood up abruptly. “My stop.”
He turned his back on Miss Nobody and reached up to the overhead rack. Several more passengers hurried past as Brian carefully lifted the backpack from the rack. He hesitated, then turned slowly. Miss Nobody was gone.
Brian hurried to the exit door and scanned the station platform, looking for a red jacket. Gradually the platform thinned of passengers, with no sign of Miss Nobody. This was not the railway station specified in the delivery instructions. A decision had to be made. Get off now to escape from Miss Nobody or stay on the train and risk death for the money.
The train lurched and began to move, gaining speed. As it reached walking pace Brian made his decision and jumped off.
With his chance of carrying out the mission now gone Brian walked to the other side of the platform to wait for a train home, back to his quiet uninteresting life. He dropped his green backpack onto the nearest bench seat and flopped down beside it.
Moments later another green backpack, identical to Brian’s, dropped onto the bench. Brian looked over his shoulder and flinched.
“Relax, it’s done.” Miss Nobody’s words had a reassuring tone. She walked around and sat on the other end of Brian’s bench. Brian’s eyes carefully followed the red jacket she was carrying, folded over her left arm.
Miss Nobody noted Brian’s attention and slowly lifted the jacket from her arm. She held it out towards Brian and nodded. Brian carefully took the jacket and reached into the right hand pocket. His hand emerged with a mobile phone.
“Mine, thanks.” Miss Nobody reached for the phone. You should have seen the look on your face.” She paused, then added an afterthought. “Both times.”
“This is mine too.” Miss Nobody said. She reached over, picked up the backpack next to Brian and drop it at her feet. “I swapped them on the train, you nearly caught me.”
Brian unzipped the remaining backpack, recognised the contents and looked at Miss Nobody for an explanation. Miss Nobody smiled and nodded at Brian. “You’re first. How did you get your backpack?’
“Easy. I answered a job add in the local paper.” Brian watched for a sign of understanding.
Miss Nobody shook her head slowly. “That one?” Brian searched for a reply as Miss Nobody continued. “The thousand dollar special? Really?”
Brian’s silence gave Miss Nobody her answer, she continued. “Let’s see. A courier arrived two day later with your nice new green backpack. You read the single sheet of instructions inside and like a good little agent you turned up on the right train on the right day.”
Miss Nobody was starting to enjoy her own revelations a little too much for Brian’s comfort. His thoughts of a thousand dollars, gone, were being overtaken by the realisation he was a pawn in somebody’s game. Miss Nobody reached out and touched Brian’s backpack. “I searched your backpack by the way. It’s not in there. Have you got it?”
Brian hesitated as he considered his options. His secret agent adventure had moved way beyond the instructions he had received. He lifted his right foot. “It’s in my sock.”
“The letter J?” The volume of Miss Nobody’s voice increased with her excitement.
“How do you know that?” Brian asked as he reached down to pull the cardboard shape of a J from his sock. He handed it to Miss Nobody.
Miss Nobody ignored Brian’s question and sprang to her feet. She held the letter above her head and announced in a loud voice “J, I’m Joanna. I win.”
She reached into her backpack and pulled out a bundle of banknotes. With a pretend secret agent voice she whispered to Brian. “Thanks Brian, here’s your thousand. Keep the jacket.”
Brian sat quietly, confused, holding his thousand dollars and the red jacket as Miss Nobody, Joanna, skipped her way along the platform towards the cameraman. Her hand held high, waving the J, as she declared her victory to the viewers of the latest hit reality TV show, ‘Name The Letter.’