Forget About It

The piercing sound of the hotel alarm clock jolted Mark awake. This was the first morning of his new life in the little town of Pine Creek. The drive here was long, and he was worn out when he arrived in town. – so much so that he couldn’t even recall arriving at the hotel or checking in. Mark chuckled to himself, feeling lucky he’d made it without passing out at the wheel.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took a moment to consider the crazy notion of moving across the country for a job. With the economy the way it was, though, he didn’t have much of a choice. Being so desperate for work, Mark even accepted the job offer from someone he’d only ever corresponded with over email. He’d never worked for someone who he hadn’t looked in the eyes and shook their hand to confirm his employment in person; in this case, he’d never even seen a picture of the guy or heard his voice. He had no idea who he would be working for in Pine Creek.

Throwing on the nicest outfit he could dig out of his bag, Mark walked down to the lobby. His mind was working on finding his contact while his stomach was focused on the complimentary breakfast bar. As he approached the front desk, he studied the faces of the people walking through the lobby trying to determine which person he was supposed to meet. The only people he noticed were a family, a young couple, and two security guards standing by the front desk eyeing him. None were his new employer, but the guards’ stares caught his attention. Being new in town, he presumed that any outsider would be viewed warily and brushed it off. He was sure they’d get used to seeing him around soon enough.

After handing the key card in at the front desk, he turned to look for the breakfast bar. However, it wasn’t eggs and bacon that he found but rather an older man, wearing a salt and pepper mustache and fedora, who stood within breathing distance of his face.

“Good morning. Mark, is it?”

“Uh, yeah. Are you…” Mark looked down at the card in his hand, “…Jim Hammerschmidt?”

“The one and only. Good to finally meet you in person.” Jim extended his hand as he spoke in quick, rehearsed sentences.

Taking the offered hand, Mark returned the platitude. He was relieved Jim introduced himself; he had no clue for whom to search in the first place. Must have a great sense of people, Mark thought. If he can pick me out of a crowd by pure intuition, yeah, he’s damn good at it. That’s better for me, I’d rather work for someone who understands his people.

Mark judged Jim to be in his late forties or early fifties, clean shaven except for the neatly combed hair above his lips. His long overcoat and hat gave off the appearance of a gumshoe detective from an old crime novel. He wasn’t quite what Mark expected to see when they came face to face, but Jim’s appearance wasn’t outside the realm of feasibility, either.

Jim beckoned for Mark to join him outside. Mark wanted to protest, his stomach having already made a loud protest, but Jim was already walking towards the door. As Mark caught up, Jim turned and motioned to someone behind him as if to say “everything is ok”. Mark turned to look, but only saw the lady behind the front desk and the two security guards in the direction Jim motioned towards. Only the two guards looked in Jim’s direction, but none of the three made any motion to acknowledge the gesture.

Puzzled, Mark turned and followed Jim out the front door onto Main Street in the heart of Pine Creek’s historic downtown area. Jim hadn’t spoken since their initial greeting; to break the silence, Mark brought up the one thing the two men had in common: Mark’s new job.

“I vaguely recall our discussions about the position, Mr. Hammerschmidt, but…”

“Please, Jim is fine. Mr. Hammerschmidt was my father.”

Both men chuckled at the old joke. “Sorry about that, Jim.”

“No worries at all. Forget about it.”

“Well, they told me that we couldn’t discuss the position or job duties until I got here. So, if it’s ok now, I’d like to know a little more about what I’ll be doing.”

“That’s what they put in your head, huh? Hmm, I’ll have to talk to the folks who process our new personnel, make sure they’re providing the correct information. Honestly, it’s simple; you’ll be in our main warehouse, working the floor, moving boxes and other inventory. Pretty standard stuff, really, but since this is such a small town, we have to look outside the city limits for good employees who can pull their weight. That’s where you come in.”

Mark listened intently, but he thought that the manual labor that Jim described was a bit basic – especially considering that he was headhunted for this position. What could they possibly be storing in that warehouse that they would need to find out-of-town labor? Mark tried to maintain focus on the job description that Jim was providing but found that his mind kept wandering – question after question, details that didn’t add up. Yet, even with doubts as to the company’s motives, something compelled him to go along for now regardless.

The two men continued their walk along the sidewalk, busy that day for a small town. Jim talked about topics ranging from the company’s warehouse and other employees to the town of Pine Creek. It seemed that the company must bring in lots of guys from out of town with how well Jim predicted and answered Mark’s questions before Mark could even finish asking. It was almost as if he knew what Mark would ask – but again, Mark chalked it up to the fact that he was working for a people person. He appreciated his good luck in that regard.

As they walked, Mark took in the picturesque beauty of the small town with its old store fronts, minimal vehicle traffic, and groups of people walking here and there. He began to notice odd behavior from the townspeople on the street, strange reactions and interactions that bordered on rudeness. One couple, after rounding the corner of an intersecting street, immediately changed direction when they saw Jim and Mark coming towards them; they made sure to cross the street long before they got close to the two men. A teenage boy stared at Mark as if he were an alien from outer space – that is, until Mark turned to look at the curious boy. Mark would not have been surprised if the poor boy’s neck snapped from how quickly he looked away.

“Are they like this towards all out-of-towners? Or is it just me?”

“Oh, the people of Pine Creek? I figured you would notice it eventually… yes, they tend to view our company’s employees with disdain because of where we get our people. It’s truly nothing to concern yourself with; you won’t be seeing much of them.”

The cryptic responses and lack of detailed information about the job were beginning to alarm Mark; he wondered what exactly he’d gotten himself into. For his part, Jim wasn't very forthcoming with details either, his answers being very closed-ended and leaving little room for follow-on questions.

From beside the two men came a raspy shout that startled Mark out of his thoughts. “Scum. All o’ye. Don’t e’er forget that yer scum. I’ll ne’er forget what you done did, and don’t think for one second that nobody ‘round here done forgot neither. They really allowed you to come back?? T’hell with both of you. You and that asshole helping you!”

The old beggar, obviously drunk and in need of a shower, wasn’t looking at anyone in particular; however, Mark had no doubts as to whom the target was for the man’s ire. He turned to look back at the homeless man when Jim flatly stated, “Don’t look. Just keep walking, eyes straight ahead.”

Mark felt compelled, almost forced, to listen. His head remained straight; eyes locked on the road ahead. He didn’t understand; why did it feel like he had no choice but to listen?

“That man is in obvious need of help. For us, he’s of no concern… let the authorities handle it.” Jim paused and took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was much warmer than the coldness with which he spoke with just seconds before. “As for you, I noticed that you didn’t bother to grab breakfast this morning. Not the smartest of ideas for your first day, I’d say.”

“Oh… well, I was planning on grabbing something from the hotel, but you…”

“Yes, yes, I did kind of jump the gun this morning, didn’t I? Here, let’s get you something to eat. I promise it’ll be an improvement over the hotel food. This place is one of the best kept secrets here in town.”

“That sounds incredible right about now. I’m starving.”

Jim pointed ahead to the next block where the Corner Diner sat between two larger government buildings. As they neared the front entrance, Mark spied a set of newspaper racks next to the double glass doors: one for the local paper (which looked to be sold out) and another for The State newspaper. The town seemed to prefer local news, as there were still copies of The State available. The headline caught Mark’s attention as he walked through the door: “UNUSUAL…AND CRUEL? Pine Creek Carries Out Unusual Sentence Against Mass Murderer”. He made a mental note to bring it up with Jim once they sat down. It seemed like a topic that the town would be buzzing about, yet Jim hadn’t mentioned it at all.

The restaurant was a stereotypical small-town diner, complete with waitresses in matching hairstyles and uniforms, each of whom would rather be anywhere else and made no attempt to hide that fact from their faces. Jim led Mark to a booth in the back and gestured at the seat where Mark’s back would face the rest of the diner. Drink orders were taken (coffee each) and food was ordered (eggs and grits with raisin toast for Mark, nothing for Jim) before Mark brought up the front-page story.

“Seems I got here after all the excitement.”

For once, Jim seemed caught off guard by Mark’s question. “The excitement? What do you… what exactly are you referring to?” 

“A mass murderer here in Pine Creek? And some unusual sentence that was carried out? I figured that something to that degree would be the talk of the town for a small place like this, but you haven’t mentioned it.”

The older man paused and stretched his neck, thinking carefully about what to say next. “Yes, that was quite the spectacle. But it’s over now, and we’d all like to move on from that horrendous affair… that’s  why I hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Ah, I got you. Out of curiosity, let me ask one more question, then we can drop the subject… what happened? I mean, the sentencing. The paper said that there was…”

Jim’s eyes widened at the mention of the paper. “Of course,” he mumbled to himself. “They know better. Um, please excuse me Mark.” 

Jim pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen with a bit more force than Mark thought necessary. After a bit, Jim returned the device to his pocket and gestured to their waitress. He whispered something in her ear that Mark couldn’t quite hear; however, based on the look of fear in the waitress’s previously apathetic eyes, Mark realized that for some reason, he wasn’t supposed to see the newspaper. He also realized just how much power Jim, or perhaps the company, seemed to hold in Pine Creek. Who, or what, did he agree to work for??

The waitress rushed to the front door, peering through the glass in both directions as if waiting for someone. Mark saw her open the door, speaking to a man in a security guard uniform. When he looked inside at the table Mark sat with Jim at, Mark recognized one of the guards from the hotel. What was he doing here?

“What was that all about?”

“Oh, nevermind. The papers are out of date, that’s all. It’s an old story, and I don’t want your first impression of this town to be the wrong one.” Jim’s tone didn’t match his words, and Mark recognized when he was being lied to; he also recognized when it was best to keep his mouth shut.

Mark’s food arrived, and Jim gestured to dig in. The two sat in silence for a time, which didn’t seem to bother either of them. Up to now, Jim had seemed unflappable, but it was clear the newspaper affected him. Meanwhile, Mark was analyzing the situation he’d found himself in. Was his new boss some kind of crime lord? What was his connection with the murders? I wonder if I could leave tonight without anyone noticing that I’ve gone, he thought to himself as he chewed. I haven’t started at this new position yet, so it would be no harm, no foul. Right?

Before Mark finished eating, Jim asked for and paid the tab. He told Mark to take his time, but it was clear Jim was eager to get going. Mark pushed increasingly larger spoonfuls of grits into his mouth, and after taking his last bite and wiping his mouth, he asked, “shall we?”

“Yes, let’s get moving. The boss will wonder why we’re late.”

The two rose and headed for the double doors; however, as they approached the exit, Jim stopped mid stride. Mark, who was lost in his own thoughts, almost ran into the older man before stopping himself suddenly. His eyes followed the path of Jim’s gaze. Outside the large storefront windows of the diner, he saw a woman in her twenties who stared at Jim intently, tears in her eyes. Or was she looking at him? Mark couldn’t tell. Jim held his hand up in a signal to halt.

“Listen, Mark. There are truly crazy people in this town. Don’t believe a word of whatever they say.”

“O-Ok…?”

“I’m serious. You may hear things that sound insane. They’re looking to get in your head … I don’t know why they do it.” He studied the woman through the window, then motioned forward. “Come on.”

Mark kept his eyes trained on her as they neared the door. He realized that she was following him, watching him. But why? Mark had never seen this woman before in his life. What could she possibly be upset with him about? Why was this little town so unwelcoming?

Once outside, Jim was quick to address the woman before she had a chance to say a word. (This had the added benefit of holding Mark's attention so that he didn't notice the now empty State newspaper rack.) “Ma’am, we talked about this. You can’t be here. Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”

“Don’t worry, I understand. I had no intention…” Her voice trailed off as she became unable to hold back the tears in her eyes or the sobs rising in her chest.

To his surprise, Mark noticed that Jim’s expression had softened. “Mark, you go on ahead, I’m going to see if I can help her. I’ll catch up shortly.” Noticing that Mark was hesitant, he added, “You know where you’re going. Yes, to the address on the business card. I’ll be right behind you.”

Jim watched Mark walk off before turning to the woman with compassion in his eyes. “Look, Helen. I know this is hard.”

The woman snapped back, “You have no idea how hard this is, Lieutenant Hammerschmidt. How could you possibly know??”

Jim sighed, recognizing the emotional minefield he’d just stepped into. “You’re right. I am truly sorry. I can’t comprehend what you’re going through.” Pausing, he waited for another retort. When none came, he continued. “I haven’t experienced your pain firsthand, but I’ve seen it many times. The prison employs many people with pasts like Mark’s, and I meet their grieving family members. 

“But what would be better, Helen? Would you rather they have executed him instead?”

Helen’s head fell as her tears returned. “This is worse than execution. He doesn’t even recognize me. He didn’t even recognize his own wife. He’s lost, he’s… does he even know where he is? Does he still remember this place is his home? Please, at least let me help him adjust, this must be confusing for him. Please…”

Jim’s eyes remained fixed on Mark as he turned the corner towards the prison disguised as a corporate warehouse. “You knew that he wouldn’t recognize you. You know the Cognitive Restructuring procedure is permanent and irreversible; it has to be. As small as this town is, we can’t afford the amount of security necessary to house hardened criminals like Mark. So instead of executing him, we allowed him to carry out the rest of his life thinking he’s a dedicated factory worker. As far as knowing where he is, the court takes care of that as well: he believes that he arrived last night to start a new job, and that he’s never been to Pine Creek before.

“Helen, we’ve done the best we can to accommodate him, to keep him comfortable. But you must remember he’s a convicted murderer. This isn’t supposed to be easy.” 

Jim turned away, knowing how little of an effect his words would have. “One more thing, then I really have to catch up. I assure you that you won’t have to go through the heartache of seeing him as a stranger ever again. He won’t leave the compound once he enters… just like all of our other reformed inmates."