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Kenneth
Tonight, I decided to treat myself to a burger and beer. Sitting at the bar in the local café, I recall the episode yesterday. I take a bite of the burger and chase it with a drink of beer. This place has some good burgers.
Man, I just don’t get Jason or his motives at the moment. The guy acts like he’s some hot shot investigator. Truth is, he couldn’t find the truth if it’s written in pen.
Speaking of punching noses, I almost gave him a broken nose yesterday. Jason can be rude and ignorant of everything around him, except those rigs. He’s very protective of them. Jason’s entire attitude changed from nice to mean, like he’s jealous or something.
Or someone.
The man is always trying to pry into my life, constantly asking questions. Which I don’t appreciate. How would he like it if I did that to him? He wouldn’t like it at all. My business is my business and I choose who gets to be a part of my business. I like to be a private person.
Why can’t he just stop with the investigation, making me out like some kind of vandal. I take another swig of beer, finishing off the burger. Ordering one more beer, I slide the empty plate to the other side for the waitress.
A thought occurs to me regarding Jason. Maybe he’s the one breaking the rigs and equipment? Or just any part of the sabotage. Maybe he’s the spy. He sure was damn quick to accuse me in the office. Some say that usually the accuser is more than likely, the perp.
I decide that it might be a good idea for me to scope the place out later tonight. I’ll patrol the area and take a camera that takes clear pictures, even if it’s dark. I might be able to catch Jason in the act.
I head home and change into darker clothes. Searching for the camera, I find it in the back of my closet, still in a box. Pulling it out to search through the box, I find regular and underwater film. But no night film.
I guess I’ll make a pit stop at the five-and-dime store. Finding the film behind a counter, I ask the clerk to get it for me. Placing the film in the camera, I take a picture to make sure I’m ready. Picture is good.
Ready and set for patrolling, I go back to work and stop about a mile away because the bike is so loud. I huff it to the back lot so I can sneak up on him. Scanning the area to see if anyone’s around. Creeping around a corner of the building, I still see nothing. The lot is very dark and a little chill is in the air.
Spotting a flashlight up ahead, I sneak quietly over to a rig, hiding behind it. The flashlight cuts the darkness like a hot knife through butter. It’s swirling through the dark, aiming at different rigs.
I hear the crunching of pebbles behind me and turn to find Tamara there. Imagine my surprise if she’s actually the culprit. “You?” I whisper, wanting to not make this accusation. “You’re the one that’s messing machines up?”
“Don’t be silly, Ken,” she crinkles her face at me. “I’m here taking a peek around to see if anything’s amiss,” she whispers back to me.
“Well, that’s what I’m doing. I just got here,” I say, straining to see her in the cloak of darkness. “See anything?”
“Not yet, but that flashlight came just a little bit ago. I’ve been tracking the movements and it seems that whoever it is, keeps going between rigs six and eight,” she tells me quietly.
“You better get behind me so nothing happens to you,” I ask her, trying to be a gentleman.
She nods her head and then falls in line right behind me. As we inch closer to rig number six, I see the silhouette of a man that has the flashlight set down, just out of his eyesight. He’s looking through some kind of binder, turning page after page.
I creep forward a little more and my shoe kicks a rock accidentally, hitting a piece of metal with a ‘dong’ sound. Tamara and I place our backs against the rig and pray that whoever it is, doesn’t come looking.
The flashlight scans over the top of the rig, illuminating a patch of the field before us. He goes back to where he originally was as we step further to the next rig, making sure to kick nothing.
As we turn around the rig, I see him coming our direction. The flashlight appears to be in his mouth, while he dusts pages of the binder and closes it.
I turn to Tamara and whisper in her ear, “Stay here. I’m going around the other side to catch him off guard.”
She nods her head and waits while I go to the other side. The culprit has already passed before me, so I sneak behind him. Tamara jumps out shouting, “Stop it right there, asshole.”
“We’ve finally got you,” I say as he turns to me. “Jason? I fucking knew it!”
Tamara puts her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side. “Really, Jason?”
Jason removes the flashlight from his mouth. “What are you two doing here?”
“We’d like you to answer the same question,” I snap back at him.
He looks from her to me and shrugs his broad shoulders. “I figured that I would grab the manual I keep at home to see if there’s a way to make the rig not as easily broken. You?”
“I couldn’t see his face, so I thought, he’s the culprit,” she points a finger at me, “Because he was sneaking around.”
“I’m not,” I say defiantly.
“No one is saying you are,” Jason says as I eye him warily.
“I don’t think anything will happen tonight, so why don’t we go back to my place?” Tamara says with a playful smile.
Jason and I look at each other and shrug our shoulders.
“I’ll buy breakfast at the pancake house if you come.”
We nod our heads yes in unison and she laughs. “Besides, I think we all could use a shower,” she smiles a welcoming grin. “My shower is big enough for the three of us.”
