Too Many Spy Movies

From the couch, I could hear the muted thunk of something colliding with my front door. It surprised me because I wasn’t expecting any packages; hadn’t ordered anything in quite a while. I was saving to move out of my depressing two-bedroom apartment. I often pictured a time, long before I moved in, where the paint was fresh on the once-white-walls and the appliances were new. Now, the walls were a sickly beige hue and my dishwasher worked only if I kicked it a few good times. My only reprieve was that the window in the living room faced a shallow wooded area, separating the building from a park. Instead of looking at parked cars, I sometimes watched the deer, birds and the occasional fox interact with nature while I had my morning coffee. So yeah, I cut back on my spending — i.e., no more Amazon shopping sprees.

Maybe it was a newspaper, or my neighbor drunkenly collapsed on the wrong doorstep again. I dismissed the thought of it being someone coming for a visit. As a foster child, I didn’t stay anywhere long enough to make lifelong friends. As an adult, I avoided social interaction because staying quiet served me well as a child. Old habits.

My curiosity became a living, breathing thing. The stale apartment air shimmered with anticipation as I moved toward the double-bolted front door. I was ridiculously excited for no reason. It was possible that UPS dropped someone else’s package off at my door. No big deal.

Undoing the locks, I inched the door open gingerly, peeking around the edge before opening it fully. The hallway was empty, not a soul or the occasional mouse. At my feet there was a small inconspicuous brown box. Could it be a bomb? The thought made me laugh.

Before I could conjure more dastardly possibilities about the box, I brought it inside. It felt suspiciously light as I turned it around in my hands searching for a label. Oddly, there wasn’t one. Carefully, I set the box on my dining room table and stared at it. I wanted to open it, self-preservation losing out to boredom. My earlier reservations seeped out of my fingertips and left my palms moist.

The moment I opened the mysterious box, this whole ordeal would be over. And then what? I would go back to surfing Netflix for something to distract me or watching the sparse piece of nature outside my window. The excitement would vanish. Even so, the need to know burned my insides. Without giving in to more contemplation, I ripped the box open and felt my excitement melt into confusion.

In the box, laid flat, was a little black book. The cover was wordless and all together blank. Nothing about the little book stood out and it resembled a diary or daily planner. Did people still use those even though we had technology? The idea of writing anything by hand exhausted me.

My interest in the little black book waned pitifully, replaced by a bout of irrational anger. I don’t know what I expected to be in the box, but was it too much to ask for something exciting to happen in my life? Every day I woke up, shuffled to work, punched the clock and ended my days depleted from the never-ending rat race. I lived my life in a perpetual fog of bitter loneliness and in that moment, the nothingness of that little black book reminded me too much of the emptiness of my life. With a frustrated scream, I picked up the leather book and chucked it across my living room. The solid sound of it hitting the wall did little to satisfy the waves of disappointment crashing inside of me. The thought of just destroying my whole apartment floated through my mind. My eyes searched frantically for the next household item I could turn into a projectile. An envelope lying next to where the book had fallen caught my eye. Crouching down, I picked up the envelope along with the book. Turning the book upright, I could see that a rectangular pocket had been cut into the pages to store the envelope.

This time, I did not hesitate to open yet another mysterious package. Nervous, hysterical laughter bubbled up my throat. Inside the envelope were several $100 bills. With growing glee, I turned the envelop upside down and watched all the bills flutter onto my ugly brown carpet. My earlier distress forgotten in the face of the cash now covering my floor. The dollar signs in my eyes almost made me overlook the flash drive that fell out with the money.

Sudden wariness took over my glowing mood. The unexplained money didn’t bother me, but the flash drive was alarming. In movies, bad things happened when people found inconspicuous flash drives. I begged the universe for excitement and my impudence was met with exactly what I deserved. Taking a deep breath, I tried to still the erratic beat of my heart before picking up the flash drive. Much like the little black book, the drive was sleek, all black and bared no sign of its origins or intended destination. I felt like all the spy movies I had ever watched prepared me for this exact moment. Instead of diving nose-first into something shady like government secrets or blackmail material, I picked the book up with a renewed sense of purpose.

Flipping through the uncut pages of the book, my breath caught in my chest at words haphazardly scribbled on the last page. My eyes ate up the words, deciphering each letter for a clue. “Take the money, it’s all I have left. Burry the flash drive and don’t let them find you. - P.”

I read the two little sentences over and over again with a feeling of foreboding. I should have never picked up this box. I should have never opened my door. The room started to spin, and my pulse galloped toward an elevated state. Just who was this box intended for and where did it come from? More questions with no answers. Moments ago, the bills felt crisp in my hand. Now, the money sliding against my fingers felt brittle like dried leaves that would crumble apart at any minute.

What was I expecting? To just deposit the money and put it toward my new house? I must have been mad. Panic set in as I gathered up all the money and started to count it. $20,000, all in $100 bills. The idea of someone chasing me down for this flash drive terrified me. The prospect of what could be on the flash drive terrified me even more. But the most harrowing possibility was staying here, working in the same cubicle I have worked in for the last seven years while living the same dull life I lived yesterday. I couldn’t do it. Mind made up, I raced to my room and grabbed a gym bag to fill. $20,000 dollars wouldn’t get me far but combined with my savings for the house, I could travel for a month before settling down somewhere inexpensive.

The whole idea was nuts, but I had been feeling so stuck for so long, and deep down, I knew buying a house would not change that. I would just have more space to wallow in. With no family, no lover, no friends and not even a pet, maybe it was fate that this little black book landed on my doorstep. My thoughts swirled in my head like a tornado, gather more and more momentum as I tore through my room. Movies had taught me that only the essentials could come along: running shoes, underwear, jacket, two pants, shirts, passport and ID. I’d buy everything else when I got to wherever I decided to flee to first. The knowledge that I would not be leaving anything or anyone behind should have made me sad, but I was too hyped up on adrenaline to care. The money and the little black book were stuffed unceremoniously into my gym bag last. Bag packed, I looked at my phone for the time; 8:15 PM. I’d call an Uber, book a flight on my way to the airport and ditch my phone before getting on the plane.

Without taking a final look at my apartment, I headed for the front door. Right as I reached for the knob, someone knocked from the other side. I stood stock-still with my next breath frozen in my lungs. The knocking becomes more insistent. On the other side, a man said “Ma’am, I’m looking for a small package that was delivered to the wrong place. Have you seen it?” On instinct I did not respond. Through the door, I could hear the man sigh. “Ma’am you’d be in real trouble if you found that package. It’s something important.” He paused and I stayed silent. A card was slipped under my door before I heard him retreat. A business card for “Orion Tech”. The only thing I could recall about the company was that they were a tech start-up my employers sold office supplies to. The only connection I had to this whole ordeal was that I sold them paper. What were the odds?

Quickly, I snatched up the card and headed for the living room window and opened it. Now that someone had come knocking on my door about the package, waltzing out the front door did not seem plausible. Silently, I thanked the heavens that I only lived on the second floor of my building. The drop was not deadly and there was a large ledge on the window below mine. I should be able to drop down safely. Taking two deep breaths to calm my nerves, I climbed through the window, dangled from the sill until I found my footing on the ledge below. Turning to put my back to the building, I gave a silent prayer before I jumped down. The impact of hitting the grass jarred me to my very bones. My teeth rattled and the wind left my lungs in a whoosh.

But I did not have time to gather my bearings, I needed to run. Dashing through the sparse woods, I checked my phone to make sure the Uber I had called while packing was waiting for me at the park. Once I made it to the clearing, I could see the black Altima idling in the parking lot. I checked the license plate to be sure that it was my ride before sliding in. I met the driver’s gaze through the rearview mirror, she looked perplexed at my disheveled appearance. I tried to offer a much reassuring smile. “To Reagan airport, ma’am?” My nod was all the acquiescence the woman needed before she glided the car onto the street. The ride went by in silence as I tried to map out a plan in my head. I booked a redeye to New York, and from there I would fly to Sicily, Italy. I would decide to either bury the drive or uncover its secrets there.

Before I could think more about Orion Tech and their warning, we were pulling up to my terminal at the airport. As quickly as possible, I gathered my bag and exited the car. Before I got too far away, my Uber driver rolled down her window and called out to me. With a gleam in her eye, she said “Do as the little black book says and don’t let them find you.” With that, she winked before peeling off and disappearing under the cover of night. The mystery and urgency of the package grew ever larger right before my eyes, but I had no time to dwell. A new life rife with danger and adventure awaited me. Even if I would be chased for the rest of my life, I finally felt free.