The New Beginning

(Part eight of a short story series, based on writing prompts. Written while trying to learn to fight brain fog and perfectionism... and my ADHD. My ADHD brain was actually technically back on board with this one! The final stretch! There’s dopamine in finishing things! Unfortunately I slept in, an appointment ran late, and I had to rush more than usual to finish this before the deadline. I didn’t finish it before the deadline, but my brain only agreed to spend an extra 10 minutes or so fixing it up after. Enjoy?)

You know that feeling that you get when you’re watching a movie and you know something big is about to go down? That anticipation that makes you want to lean forward in your seat as if somehow moving forward a few inches will bring that moment closer, being an end to the unbearable tension... And you know how you sit there, wondering if the person next to you has sensed it too? You might even glance sideways at them to see if they’re ready for it. But even if they look like they’re bracing for something, it’s hard to know if they know what’s headed your way or if they’re in the dark, bracing for an unknown. That’s how it felt leading the prisoner down the hall that day.

As I glanced sideways at the man, part of me expected him to show some sign of knowing what was coming. One look told me how foolish a notion that was. It was as though he’d been stuck in traffic for the first two thirds of the film, only to enter the theatre just before the big reveal. Of course he didn’t know what was coming.

The man had been in isolation for weeks by this point. And more than that, he’d spent a fair proportion of that time being interrogated. As we rounded a corner in the grey hallways, sounds from one of the cells reached us. You’d think after 3 months in the interrogation wing of an underground facility, I’d be used to the full spectrum of sounds that a human can produce to express pain, fear, anger... but those types of sounds can have an effect on you at a primal level. Even knowing that what we were doing here was to help humanity, those snarls could still make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

I glanced again at the man in cuffs beside me. He winced as we walked past the source of the noise. He probably thought it was another prisoner being tortured. I wondered if the knowledge that it was in fact a guard screaming in rage at being tricked into the cell would have made this man feel more at ease, or less. He’d missed two thirds of the story, he wouldn’t know what to think.

Nearing the end of the hallways, I nodded to a camera as a door swung open on the right. I guided the prisoner inside and gestured for him to sit on the stool in the center of the room. He hesitated before sitting; I didn’t blame him. “Tell me exactly what you told the last guy. From the start.” I barked, hoping he was too exhausted to fight me on it.

The man sighed. “All of it?” he asked hesitantly. I nodded. “I’m a farmer, ok? It’s my job to make sure my crops survive. And when I heard what the government was doing... you know what happened with bananas, right? Lack of biodiversity led to all banana crops being wiped out in a matter of weeks. So when I heard that the government was choosing to cut down on biodiversity on a larger scale... I snapped. It’s my job to ensure people have food to feed their kids. No way in hell was I going to let so many species die out. So I hid seeds. Not my workers, not my wife, just me. I hid them under the barn and I hoped I’d come up with a plan to somehow single handedly save the planet I guess.” He paused, laughing a humorless laugh. He was a good actor, but he’d missed so much of the story.

I took a pocket knife out of my back pocket and unfolded the blade. I started trimming my fingernails with it as I leant against the wall in front of him. “So how come they weren’t there?” I asked. No response. Maybe I needed to give him a little more. “The seeds... we searched your barn, your house... everything. The seeds weren’t there. You say you worked alone, but seeds don’t move themselves. Who moved the seeds Arlo?” I looked at him as I said his name, hoping the sudden familiarity combined with the new information would throw him. It *must* have thrown him... I was tearing apart his entire narrative.

Arlo shrugged, another empty laugh. A well disguised stalling technique to hide a mind scrambling for a story. “I suppose there’s no point pretending I wasn’t high the day I was arrested.” He looked directly at me, as if daring me to call his bluff. “And a few other days besides. I’d thought about burying the jars of seeds... guess I actually did it at some point.” The laugh returned, this time it reached his eyes. “Have fun digging I guess.”

He might have convinced me if I hadn’t had other information. I had one play left, one last chance to rattle him before his false confidence became real. “Shame your bloodwork was clean.” A gamble at best; not only did I not know if he’d been high or not, but I didn’t even know if blood had been taken. What I did know was that sleep deprivation had been used on this man multiple times. I straightened my posture and walked forwards, hoping my own false confidence shook his.

“We brought your wife in. We can only assume that if you didn’t have outside help, you had help at home. So this is your last chance to tell us who you were working with.” I watched as the man’s calm facade fell. This was his weak spot. His face reddened, unable to hide his rage.

When he next spoke, it was strained, his vocal cords tight with emotion. “That traitor wouldn’t have helped me even if my life depended on it. She was too weak to stand up for what was right. Not only did I have to do it all myself, but I had to put in twice the energy to hide it from her. I’d have divorced her years ago if there’s been a way to do it without losing the farm.” That humorless chuckle returned, “Guess I wouldn’t need to worry about that anymore.”

I briefly considered giving the man a standing ovation for such a performance. Instead I I nodded to the camera in the corner of the room, and gestured for the prisoner to follow me through the now open doorway. We walked to the end of the hall. The look of confusion on his face as I removed his handcuffs was the first sign of honest emotion I’d seen from him in some time. I tried hide my amusement as I pictured the level of confusion awaiting him on the other side. I signaled to the cameras once more, and the double doors swung away from us.

Arlo’s jaw dropped open at the sight in front of us. The contrast between the dull prison hallway and the bright lab was jarring. The room was bustling with activity. But it wasn’t the scientists or monitors that held his attention. It was the single pear tree in the center of the room that drew his gaze. I didn’t blame him, I’d thought they were extinct too.

“I figured it would be faster to show you than to explain.” I said as I led him into the room. “We haven’t found many people willing to risk it all for the cause. And far fewer who are able to hold their own under interrogation. Most people try to hide their emotions... giving into them but disguising the cause is certainly an effective tactic.” I doubted my words meant anything to him. There were still too many blanks. “There have been others fighting this Arlo. Many within the government. And,” I said, gesturing to a screen on the left, “as I’m sure you’re aware... others like you.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears as he spotted familiar faces in the holding cells. There were over two dozen civilians, most he’d never met, but he spotted those he knew instantly. “Your wife hasn’t been filled in on specifics at this stage. You’re the first to prove you can be trusted. The others show potential but will need to be kept mostly in the dark. That’s where you come in... we need as many boots on the ground as we can get. This lab has developed a way to pollinate plants on a large scale. We think we can gain back a portion of what was lost... so long as the current government loses power before more damage is done.” I paused, hoping for a sign that the information was sinking in.

Arlo turned to me, but his eyes flicked back to the pear tree in the center of the room. Any doubt I’d had about his willingness to recruit others for the cause vanished in that moment. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”