Trials of Job

Chuck was almost surprised when he saw the cabin. It sat alone in the middle of a wooded nowhere. Until this point, every guess had led to another question. The patterns he saw could have been fantasy. The cabin in front of them, however, was very real.

“I solved with Daddy! I solved with Daddy!” Buddy jumped up and down and yanked at Chuck’s hand. Chuck had never seen his boy smile larger or jump higher. It was pure joy.

“Yes, you did, Buddy. You solved with Daddy.” Chuck hugged Buddy and laughed. “Let’s go see what we found.”

Chuck took Buddy’s hand and walked toward the cabin. Buddy continued to jump up and chant about solving with Daddy. Buddy slipped, yanking Chuck backwards. Pain shot through Chuck’s back as he fought to stay on his feet. The pain was sharp, powerful, and familiar. Middle age brought many issues, including a bad back.

With his feet set, Chuck yanked back. “Buddy!” he yelled.

Buddy flinched and covered his head like he might get hit. Chuck never hit Buddy, but Daddy’s yell alone terrified him. This reaction always stung Chuck.

After taking a moment to calm, Chuck said, “Be careful. Don’t tug Daddy like that, ok?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Buddy looked down and self-soothed by rocking from side to side. Chuck did not know how to explain or apologize for Buddy to understand. Instead, the father kissed his son’s forehead.

The door to the cabin opened and a man walked out. He had neatly trimmed, dark gray hair and beard. He wore a red and black flannel shirt, denim jeans, and boots. His outfit was in pristine condition. Chuck tried not to smirk at the billionaire poorly impersonating a lumberjack.

“Coming in or passing by?” the man asked. He spoke with a slight French accent.

“I think we’ve found you, Mr. Lafayette,” Chuck asked.

The man held out his manicured hand for Chuck to shake. “Please call me Jacques.”

Chuck shook his hand and smiled. “I’m Chuck. This is Buddy.”

“Please come in,” Jacques said, walking into the cabin, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.

“Stay close to Daddy,” Chuck said when Jacques was out of ear shot.

“Arm,” Buddy said and took hold of Chuck’s elbow.

Inside the cabin, Chuck could feel the warmth of the fire keeping out the autumn chill. Jacques was pouring a cup of tea from a steaming kettle.

“You’re the first,” Jacques said. He nodded towards the briefcase on the table next to Chuck.

The briefcase was open and full of money. “Is that really $200,000?” Chuck asked.

Jacques chuckled. “Oui. Count it if you’d like.”

“And I can just leave with it?”

“I hope to speak with you before you go. Like I said, you’re the first to make it here. Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Water, if you have it,” Chuck said.

Jacques opened a nearby ice chest and withdrew two bottles of water. He handed both to Chuck, who gave one to his son. Buddy quickly opened the bottle and drank, all the while rocking and humming. Jacques sat in the kitchen at the small, square table which had a large chessboard in the middle. He sipped his tea, “How did you solve it?”

“I solved with Daddy!” Buddy said, before Chuck could speak.

“Buddy, shush!” Chuck said.

“Daddy,” Jacques said as he leaned back. “let the boy speak.”

Since the billionaire was about to give him $200,000, Chuck used a fake smile to hide his annoyance at being told how to handle his child.

“Buddy,” Jacques said, “how did you solve with Daddy?”

“The femur is the longest bone in the human body the hardest part of the human body is the top of the skull the strongest muscles in the human body are the gluteus maximus and the latissimus dorsi the human heart beats 100,000 times a day…” Buddy continued listing random facts about the human body in an unending stream of words at a steady cadence. He let go of Chuck’s arm and wandered around the room, drinking his water.

Jacques smiled at Chuck. “How old is he?”

“Twelve,” Chuck said.

“That’s a good age.” Jacques paused to sip his tea. “So, how did you do it?”

Chuck smiled and puffed his chest. He had solved the puzzle faster than anyone else and outsmarted Jacques, a bona fide software genius, in the process. He took a seat at the table, opposing Jacques. “The program with the map to $200,000 was distributed in open-source code. I read somewhere that you were a fan of misdirection and mischief. I felt it safer to open the file to edit instead of execution.”

“That was smart since the map was a fake.”

“And the program disabled the computer.”

“Well, I guess that would be the mischief.” Jacques leaned forward. For the first time, Chuck felt like Jacques was sincerely interested in him. “How long have you been a programmer?”

Chuck unzipped his light jacket and relaxed. “I was one professionally for ten years. Then I became a teacher and have been one for fifteen years.”

Jacques furrowed his brow. “You think being a teacher helped you?”

“Analyzing logic and finding bugs are good talents for giving grades. But analyzing typos is a good way to find cheaters.”

Jacques thought for a moment before slapping the table. “Merde!”

Chuck leaned forward. Both men hovered over the game board, eye-to-eye. “The typos in your code seemed oddly consistent. Always a letter missing, or an extra letter added. No letters swapped in order and no bad grammar. Your logic was flawless.”

“Why does good grammar and flawless logic matter?”

“Your code was perfect in every other way except for these typos. You aren’t a sloppy programmer. I figured that was a good a way to hide a clue. The typos were likely intentional. I put missing or extra letters on a Scrabble board and started moving them around, looking for the next clue.”

“How did you know you found it?”

Chuck looked at Buddy, who was quoting facts about the digestive system while looking out the window and rocking side to side. “Buddy looked over my shoulder at the code you wrote and started talking about the words he saw.”

“I wondered if using medical terms would make the puzzle too easy. Did Buddy see the words in the Scrabble letters?”

“We both pieced it together. ’Latissimus’ and ‘femur’. I used to work out, so I’m well familiar with ‘lat exercises’. And then, Buddy told me the femur was the longest bone in the body. So, now I had ‘lat’ and ‘long’. Figured you were sneaking coordinates into the program. Looked through the code again and found corresponding values.”

“And here you are. Buddy truly solved with Daddy,” he said with smooth charm. Jacques looked at Buddy for a long moment before looking back at Chuck. “It's very difficult, no?”

“What is?”

Jacques pulled a device from his pocket that looked like a large cellphone. As he typed on the screen, he said, “My sister was on the autism spectrum. Quite severe. Nonverbal. I saw the same loving sadness in my father that I see in you. Hearts can break when feeling the chasm that always exists between you and a loved one, even when they’re so close, you can hug them.” He tapped his screen one last time and the device slowly produced a business card. “I know of an excellent school for special needs children. Cutting edge programs. The best therapists and doctors and teachers in the world. They specialize in autism but could do little for my sister. You may want to see if they can help Buddy.”

Chuck shook his head. “I’m sure the cost – “

“Will be paid by me.” Jacques said as he took the card from the device. He offered it to Chuck. “The chance of a lifetime, no?”

The moment felt like a dream. Jacques was offering an impossibly tempting treasure over that chessboard. A treasure Buddy needed. Chuck feared the treasure was cursed. “What’s the catch?”

Jacques said nothing, until Chuck tried to take the card. Jacques would not let go.

“’The catch’, as you say,” Jacques said with a sly smile, “is that you can take either this help for your son or the $200,000.”

Chuck clenched his jaw. His hand trembled slightly. He fought to maintain control after hearing this. “That’s quite a large hook for this small fish, Jacques.”

“You’re no small fish, Chuck. Do you bite the hook? With $200,000, can you pay off your debts and afford what this facility can offer? Occupational therapists, speech therapists, physical therapists, teachers, all experts in how to help autistic children become adults. Mainstream. Employed. He can have a life of independence. A tremendous future where he learns to use the knowledge he has locked away in his head to help someone. How much would you pay-”

Chuck snatched the card from the rich man before the speech ended. “Keep the sales pitch. I know what you’re offering. You are asking a man on a teacher’s salary to choose between a life-changing dollar amount and his son’s future. You want this choice to be difficult, but it’s not. My son and my family are my world. The money is nice but doesn’t compare.”

“You spent an awful lot of time working for something you feel is worthless.”

“What’s in that briefcase is not worthless. My son’s future is just worth more.”

Jacques nodded. “I stand corrected.”

Chuck tapped the card on the table before slipping in into his pocket. “What is this game you’re playing, Jacques?”

Jacques glanced at the table. “Chess, apparently.”

Chuck stood up and backed away from the table, keeping a wary eye on Jacques. “Buddy, it’s time to go.”

His son ran over and took his dad’s arm. Buddy looked down and whispered, “Human ears never stop growing.”

“Before you go,” Jacques said, “please sign my book. I need your name and your address to make arrangements with the school.”

Charles opened the little black notebook next to the briefcase and slowly wrote his information. As he finished his entry, he could not shake the feeling he had just signed a devil’s contract. He looked at the page for a moment before tearing the page out and stuffing it in his pocket.

“No,” Chuck said. He looked at Jacques. “I don’t know what version of chess you’re playing, but I’m not doing it. You give something like this because you’re going to take something worse.” Chuck tossed the card on the table.

“So, you’ll take the money instead?” Jacques asked.

“No.” Chuck took Buddy by the hand and walked backwards with his eyes on Jacques.

“Goodbye, Chuck,” Jacques said.

Chuck said nothing and backed out the door.

After father and son walked out of sight, Jacques picked up the notebook. He opened it to the blank page that had been behind the one Chuck wrote on. He shaded the page with a pencil. Chuck’s entry revealed itself in contrast. Jacques opened his laptop. A metal shield appeared on the screen with the “JOB” on the screen. “JOB online,” the computer said in a deep mechanical voice.

Jacques made a note to update the system to use the appropriate, Biblical pronunciation. “Lafayette, Jacques, grant access,” Jacques said.

“Access permitted,” the mechanical voice said.

“New subject registration.” Jacques read Chuck’s information to the system.

“Awaiting instructions,” the computer said.

“Instruction: Work-up on subject and family. Focus on his son. Twelve years old. Called Buddy. Next instruction: Contact The Rothkin’s Institute. Re: Consult on Buddy, mild to moderate ASD. Consider for enrollment. Next instruction: Open a savings account in subject’s name. Deposit $200,000. Communicate access information to subject. Instructions completed.”

“Instructions accepted,” the computer said.

Jacques paused to savor the moment before saying this for the first time. After a deep breath, he said “Begin the Trials of Job. Target Subject One.”