Three Packages For Charlie

Charlie stared at the suspicious packages, one wrapped in brown paper and the other a plain white box, all taped up, sitting on his front steps. They must have had been left sometime between his arriving home around 11:30 last night and retrieving his morning papers at seven this morning.

Charlie had recently been promoted from the crime report beat to daily columnist on the Whishburne Tribune. As a result of a column he had written on the absence of a god in people's everyday lives, there had been several threats on his life and numerous anonymous letters promising all sorts of violence on his person, not to mention many emails wishing him all sorts of ill will.

Why do people have to take things so personally, he thought? It's not like prayers actually accomplish anything. People attend church and synagogues and offer up all sorts of prayers to their particular god but bad shit still happens. Earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, demented gun-toting freaks, pandemics, and ridiculous wars still keep on happening.

He writes an article on the declining attendance at houses of worship and the lack of god in the lives of the religious and suddenly he's a demagogue.

He eyed the packages from his doorway. One was about the size of a Kleenex box, a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. Kind of overkill given the size of the package he thought. The other package; white and a little bigger and professionally wrapped. Both had labels.

Charlie was deliberating between picking up the boxes or calling the police. He couldn't conceive of anyone really wanting to kill him over such an innocent column but, caution was the best action he decided. He could see a label on the top of both boxes. He went inside and retrieved his old naval binoculars from the hallway closet. He peered at the labels and adjusted the focus. He could see his name in block letters, one typed, one handwritten on both packages but nothing to indicate who they were from.

They both looked very innocuous.. But, he thought to himself, anyone who wants to kill him is not going to write "Bomb" on the package.

"Well I can't leave the damned things sitting there," he said to himself.

What a week he thought. Losing my cell phone; having my car broken into and now this. Charlie went back inside and picked up the receiver on his rarely used landline. He pressed the dial button and heard a beep, beep, beep, indicating a message was waiting. He made a mental note to check it after he made the call to the local police.

He told the operator his name and said he wanted to report two suspicious packages and was put through to the desk of the sergeant he knew.

"Hey, Sarge. Charlie Booth. Yeah, yeah. The big-time crime reporter. Listen, I want to report two suspicious packages. They're sitting on my fronts steps right now. They were there when I collected my morning newspapers."

Charlie paused.

"Well, I'm a little nervous after the threats and the nasty emails I received after the column I wrote in last Saturday's edition of the Tribune."

Charlie listened, nodding his head.

"OK. Got it. 10 minutes. I'll leave by the back door, walk around the block and see you out front."

As Charlie hung up, there was a knock at the front door. He opened the door to find his neighbor from the next block, 90-year old Sid standing there holding the two packages in his arms.

"Hey, Charlie. Wanted to borrow your hedge trimmer. Found these on your front steps," holding the packages out for Charlie.

Charlie gulped.

"Sid. Do me a favor. Don't move."

Charlie reached over and gently lifted the packages out of Sid's hands. He placed them lightly on the deck. He took Sid by the arm and led him around the back of the house to the garden shed.

"Gee Charlie. You're looking kinda pale there."

"Sid, the police will be here in a few minutes. The packages are suspicious. Now I'm not saying it's a bomb or anything but it pays to be cautious given the threats I've received."

Charlie lifted the trimmer off the wall and handed it to Sid.

"Here. Take them as long as you want. Head home the back way."

As Sid hurried away, Charlie heard a siren and made his way around the house out to the street just as two police cars and a fire truck arrived. Must be both Sid's and my lucky day he thought to himself. I'm sure glad I live rural with no immediate next-door neighbors.

Sergeant Morris climbed out of one of the patrol cars and greeted Charlie.

"Hi Charlie, where are these packages?"

Charlie pointed. "On the verandah. They were left on the steps, but a neighbor came by to borrow my trimmers and bought them to my door. I put them down where you see them now."

"Damn. We'll probably have to fingerprint your neighbor as well as you. You both might be very lucky. We have the bomb squad arriving any minute. Good thing there's a lot of distance between you and the neighbors."

The bomb wagon arrived and the crew unloaded a small, tracked robot. It advanced to Charlie's steps, extended a boom and delicately picked up each package, swung the arm around and placed them in two containers on the robot's body and trundled back to the wagon.

Sergeant Morris gave Charlie a two thumbs up.

"OK Charlie. Leave it with the bombs guys. They'll probably not take chances and will blow them. I'll let you know the results."

Charlie went back to his house. As he entered the front door, his phone was ringing.

"Hello. Charlie here."

"Dad, it's Clarisse. I've been really worried. I've left messages on your cell phone and your landline and haven't heard back from you."

"Honey, I've been busy, plus I lost my cell phone."

"Well, I left a message on your landline. I wanted to know if you got my parcel. I had a friend drop it off."

Charlie said. "Parcel?"

"Yes dad. My friend Liz was coming into town and I asked her to drop it off Did you get it?"

"Yes. I got it. In fact, I have two parcels, both in the hands of the bomb squad. I've been getting threats over a controversial column I wrote and I called the police. The bomb squad took them away. What was in the parcel?"

"What! Oh dad. Look, I'm coming home. By the way, the parcel was a naval watch. I found it on an online auction. It was that watch you've been looking for, for years."

"Clarisse. Let me call you back. I have to call the police. Hold on. What did you wrap the watch in?"

A box wrapped in brown wrapping paper Dad. Why?"

"I'll get back to you Clarisse."

Charlie clicked off and dialed the police operator for Sergeant Morris. The operator said she would have to patch Charlie through as the sergeant was on the road. A few seconds later, Sergeant Morris answered.

"Sarge. Those two packages. One was a gift from my daughter. Where are you?"

"We've disposed of one Charlie. Which was the package from your daughter?"

"The package wrapped in brown paper."

"Just a minute'"

A minute later.

"You there Charlie?

"Yup."

"Well, you're in luck. My guys blew the other. Actually, you're lucky in two aspects. One, you'll have your watch. And two, the other package contained a big pile of human poop and a small explosive device. You wouldn't have been hurt but you sure would have been smelly. I have to come and see you to fill out a report so hang around. I'll be there inside an hour and bring the package with me."

Charlie thanked the sergeant and as he was hanging up, the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find a young lady with a package.

"Hi Mr. Jensen. I'm Liz. Clarisse's friend. Clarisse asked me to drop this off last night but I got delayed."

She handed Charlie a package wrapped in brown paper.

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