The Unknown

“Hey Vik, you sure you’re not imaginin..?”

“Shhh…keep it down will ya? “Look I know what I saw, OK?” 

Noticing the desperation in my voice, Lukie raises his hand to calm me down. 

We slide behind a couple of large crates on the west end of the warehouse with a good line of sight. 

“Lukie, I need you to get this.” “What I saw yesterday was real, as real as my name is Viktor,” pointing to my ID tag ‘Viktor Bakowski’, “…not some sci-fi illusion thing, you thought I saw.”

“OK, OK, keep your shirt on, Vi….”

“Keep up, keep up! Station 4 and 12!” 

That’s the familiar bark of Supervisor Smith, or ‘Super’ as he’s ‘honoured’ around here. On the quiet, we nicknamed him, ‘Unknown Man.’ 

Nobody here knows anything about Supervisor Smith. He’s been a mystery to us all. 

“You guys are backlogging on us!!” “The next shift is about to wander in…get moving!” 

Those poor ‘sorters’ in Storage Bay 5. 

Lukie and me are both ‘phone ops’ upstairs at Overnight Charlie, a despatch warehouse for a bunch of online companies in Sydney. 

Nicely tucked in Miles Street in Alexandria, fifteen of us work rotating shifts, round the clock, sorting packages for delivery around greater Sydney. 

“You think he’d do it ag…”

“Look..look…Look!” I said, holding Lukie’s head down on reflex.

“He’s doing that stare again.” “Same thing I saw yesterday.” “Watch…”

I love the rhythmic whirr of the conveyor humming through my hands on the racking frames. In a funny way, the hum makes it easy to talk in a low voice but hard to hear.

Super looks intently at one particular box. A large crate. Item #00-XA-223-07618. 

“That’s a Shelf 7 category, somewhere up there.” Lukie points to level seven on the racking system high towards the ceiling.

Normally, our forklift guy would swing by to take care of it, but he jammed the darn machine the day before. One too many wheelies. That reckless guy. 

“Now watch th….”

“Wait, what??” “Did you see that, Vik?”

“Will you keep your voice down, Lukie??”

I see it. But I still don’t believe it. One second it’s right there, a box the size of a small car. And the next it’s down to the size of a matchbox. 

Holding that tiny box gingerly between his thumb and index finger, Super looks around right and left to make sure no one’s insight. Then looks up and down the state-of-the-art racking system.

And the entire thing shrinks down to his ankles, right before our eyes. 

“Shelf #7…” I hear him say. He bends down to run his stubby finger up and down the now miniature racks at his feet.

He flicks that tiny box snuggly on to Shelf #7. 

“Nooo… problem.” I hear him mutter again.

As he steps back, the entire box and racking expand back to their original size and height.

“I knew it. I knew that guy’s an alien…”

“Will you knock it off, Lukie?” 

“There’s got to be some kind of switch he flicks.” “Or a device he has on him…if not, if not…how the heck is that even possible?”

“Let’s ease on back.”

Lucas Paxton’s been here at OC three years, the longest-serving staff. Most of us don’t last two years in this crazy hothouse. 

The buzzer goes for the shift change, and he wheels his chair towards my cubicle. 

“Let’s follow him…what d’ya think?”

“No way, he’s weird science.” 

“Have you told anyone about this?” Lukie pointing his finger at me.

“What? Lose my job for being some whacko psycho?”

“Let’s follow him tonight.” 

“Lukie, I ain’t taking that chance.” “Besides, I got a party to attend, anyway.”

“Vik, Vik…look at me, man.” “How bad do you want to get this mystery out of your mind?”

“Careful, he’s slowing down…”

Feeling like an amateur B grade spy, up ahead I see Super pull his Toyota Hybrid into a hardware store in Redfern. 

What I saw next didn’t prepare me well at all. 

I hit the brakes sudden and hard, narrowly missing the car in front of me, sending Lukie and me forward in a jolt. My bag in the back seat crashing down behind me. 

Without warning, I see Super swerve his car straight into a parking spot with a car already parked in it!! 

Expecting a great big loud crash, the car that’s parked in that spot disappears in front of our eyes. Just like that!

One second it’s there, and the next thing, it’s gone. 

“I can’t believe my eyes!” “Did you see that?” 

Lukie nodding, his mouth opened like a letterbox. 

Super jumps out of his Hybrid.

“Keep an eye on him,” I said as I pull into a spot where we can watch him exit the store.

Jumping out of our car, we hurried back to the Hybrid, just to be darn sure it’s the right car. 

Lukie runs his hands on the car as if convincing himself the thing is real. 

Taking a walk around it, I can see everything seems normal to me. I look underneath the car just out of curiosity, not expecting to see anything.

And there nestled under Super’s Toyota Hybrid is this tiny little matchbox car! The same car parked in this same spot earlier in its original size.

Super walks out of the store twenty minutes later with some timber and some smaller packages and drives off. 

Somewhere behind us, we hear an older woman call out to her husband, “John, I found our car!” “It’s over here…”

“But honey, I checked there earlier….”

Their voices trail away in the distance as we follow Super out of the parking lot.

“I’m screwed!” “You know what’s happening, don’t you?” “This is going to take us straight into the M2.” “I’m screwed.” “I’m gonna be so late.” “I shouldn’t listen to you.”

Fifteen minutes later, we watch Super veer off the M2. The sign said, ‘Beecroft.’ 

He turns left into Milton Avenue. Another left into Adelaide Grove, and into #5, a beautiful brick driveway lined with lush lavender on one side and the other, a ground cover of tiny speckled flowers, leading up to his garden. 

“Pull up here, Vik.” 

We are three houses down. And it’s dark out by now.

“What now, Lu…,” 

I can’t see Lukie. 

Looking around, I catch his shadowy figure ahead darting into the trees at #5. Wait till I get my hands on him. 

“Over here, Vik,” I hear a voice.

By now I am well and truly on Super’s property and following Lukie’s dark figure among the trees somewhere in the backyard. 

“Wait up, will ya?” panting a little and trying to catch my breath in the warm summer air. But adrenalin was pushing Lukie faster ahead. 

We stopped short when we heard the sliding door open in the back of the house. Then we hear the fly screen open and then shut. 

Adjusting to the night, I can see the BBQ area and the brick path leading up to the clotheslines. 

Lukie quietly crawls up real close to the fly screen to peer inside. Keeping low all the time.

“He’s talking to someone,” he whispers back. “Come up this way…lie low.”

Now I can see past the kitchen to Super standing in his brightly lit lounge, his back facing us. 

But I can see something else too. There in the corner of the lounge.

“That’s got to be the most elaborate dollhouse if I ever saw one,” I lower my voice a tad. 

“I mean...look… that’s a proper house with every detail you see in an actual house except it’s a dollhouse!” 

Timber and bits and pieces were strewn near it.

Super seems to be facing a wooden cupboard. The doors wide open.

“Looks like he’s chatting with someone IN the cupboard,” nudging the fly screen back a bit, Lukie turns to me, beckoning me to peer in further.

Now it all makes sense. Finally, I know. 

Lukie turns to me as if reading my mind, nods his head.

We can hear him clearly now as things start to come together in our minds.

“I’m sorry, honey. I have tried.” “But… but… no, no, yeah... But…” “I tried that. It’s not working on me,” his voice breaking. 

I hear him crying. 

“I really have…it’s just no use.”

We hear a couple more voices from the cupboard, only softer, much softer. 

“Look your house is nearly finished, if you want to stay,” pointing to the miniature house behind him.

“I just can’t seem to reverse the molecular frame to get me back,” Super seems to say. 

“I hate it here, stuck in a world I can’t belong…I can’t fit in.” “I’m so sorry kids.” “It’s no use…I’m stuck here… an unknown.”