Jenna's Journey Read online

Jenna's Journey

  By Steven Lake

  Copyright 2015 Steven Lake

  Prologue

  Margaret, a Godly woman and long time owner of the wonderful, albeit obscure, Shepherds Bed and Breakfast just off Highway 28, had just finished her work for the day and was finally laying down to rest, long after her evening's guests had themselves gone to bed. However, unlike in times past, the bed felt unusually large to her; many, many times bigger than she'd ever need for herself. This was because, several months earlier, her husband had passed away, leaving behind a void in her life. The emptiness of his side the bed made her loneliness feel all that much stronger. She gently laid her hand on her husband's empty pillow and thought longingly about her now dearly departed knight of utmost chivalry. He'd been a very loving man, dotting on her every day. But now he was gone, resting comfortably in the arms of Jesus, while she continued to maintain the B&B they'd built together.

  She sighed slightly, wondering why God had left her behind while taking her husband away at a time when she could really use him the most. It wasn't that she didn't have help, as she had several employees helping her with the daily duties. It was his absence that bothered her the most. It'd caused her on many an occasion long for Heaven even more than before. But if she was still here, and Jesus hadn't taken her home yet, then there must still be work for her to do. The only question was, what? Just then, this thought having no more than passed through her mind, she felt the presence of the Lord descend upon her like a thick, warm, heavy blanket as a still, small voice echoed in her mind.

  "Margaret," it said with such love that it actually shocked her.

  "Lord, is that You?" she asked quietly.

  "It is," came the soft, gentle reply.

  Margaret's heart leapt within her!

  "Speak, Lord, for your servant listens," she replied.

  "I have work for you to do."

  This is exactly what Margaret wanted to hear!

  "What kind of work, Lord?" she asked.

  "I am sending a young woman and her children to you. Through you I will give them yet another new beginning. You are to nurture them as your own, for they will come to you with nothing, seeking to start their lives over again. Take good care of them."

  "Yes, Lord. I will," replied Margaret.

  She pondered this briefly, trying to wrap her mind around this rather unusual assignment and all it would entail.

  "When will they arrive?" she asked after a moment.

  "I will tell you when it is time. Until then you are to prepare for their needs."

  "Yes, Lord, I will. But..."

  Margaret heard a soft, loving chuckle greet her incomplete sentence.

  "What is it, child?" came the Lord's knowing reply.

  "You said this would be another new beginning. Did they have...well, one before this?"

  "They are your new brothers and sisters," replied the Lord with a smile.

  Margaret's eyes lit up.

  "Oh," she said in wonder. "Praise you, Lord! Then they've gained a new life in the spiritual and now You're giving them a new life in the physical?"

  "I am."

  Margaret smiled and sighed happily.

  "Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to minister to this family, and I will do for them all that You have asked of me."

  And with that the presence of the Lord lifted from her. Margaret then rolled over and lay quietly on her pillow smiling. There was a reason God had left her behind. She still had work to do, and what a work it would be!

  Part 1 – The Actors

  The Shadow Wall

  John awoke with a start, his body sweating as he panted heavily and tried to get his wits about him. His wife rolled over next to him and looked at her husband curiously. By the look on his face she thought he'd seen a ghost.

  "What's the matter, dear?" she asked.

  "I just had a dream," he said.

  His wife sat up on one arm and looked at him curiously.

  "What kind?" she asked.

  "It was strange, and sorta hyper realistic."

  "What was it about?"

  "It began with me looking at a map of the country that lay spread out across my desk. As I was studying it, the map seemed to grow larger and larger until I was floating just above our town. As I was watching this, trying to understand what I was seeing, a line appeared on the western horizon, passed through our town, and then disappeared into the east. I then found myself standing in front of a hotel. I think it was the La Quinta Inn downtown. To my right was a car with a small family in it. They wanted to get into the hotel, but they were being blocked by a thick wall of darkness spread out in front of the building. It prevented them from getting near the door or approaching the hotel in any way."

  "What did it look like? The darkness, I mean. Well, besides being dark."

  John screwed up his face slightly, uncertain how to describe it.

  "I don't know. It was like a curtain of black, solid and impenetrable."

  His wife thought about this briefly.

  "Then what happened?" she asked.

  "An angel came to me just then and told me that I would have to open the door for them. I asked how I was to do that seeing that the wall was impenetrable. He told me that I would need to get a key from within. I argued with him, insisting relentlessly that the wall was impassable. But he told me to go inside anyways, to the main desk, and ask for a key. So I obeyed. To my surprise, I suddenly found myself inside the hotel staring at the front desk. Behind it stood a man dressed head to toe in brown khakis. He said, "May I help you?" I told him I needed a key. He smiled and handed me a golden key which I then took outside and gave to the family I'd seen earlier. They were very happy to get it."

  His wife smiled.

  "Wow, that's great! What happened next?" she asked with almost the same enthusiasm as a giddy young school girl.

  "Well, the family took the key I'd just given them and walked up to the hotel. As they did the key began to glow causing the darkness to melt away, allowing them to pass through it and go inside. But then the wall of darkness turned and came after me. It chased me down and took my wallet. That's when I awoke."

  His wife seemed intrigued by this. It was rare enough for her husband to have any dreams at all, let alone one like this.

  "Do you think this is from God?" she asked.

  "I don't know. I'm not sure what to think of it."

  "Then go back to sleep. If it's of God, you'll know," she said.

  John laid back down and quickly fell asleep. But the same dream kept playing out in his mind over and over again, repeatedly disturbing his sleep until he couldn't stand it any longer. Finally he got up and went downstairs where he prayed about it until morning, asking God what he should do and what the dream meant. Later that day at work one of his coworkers, a fellow Christian, stopped at John's desk and noticed his friend's tired eyes and clearly troubled countenance.

  "Something eating you?" he asked.

  "I don't know. I had this really weird dream last night. It kept coming to me over and over again. I'm not sure what to make of it."

  The man turned and poured his entire attention on his friend.

  "Tell me more. What was the dream about?"

  John then proceeded to explain it to his friend. The coworker scratched his chin in interest. John could see the gears grinding in his friend's head and became curious.

  "Do you know what this means?" he asked.

  "Well, I might. I'll say right up front that dream interpretation is not my forte. Even so I'm pretty sure I know what this one is saying."

  "And?"

  "Well, when it comes to dreams, objects in the dream can be either one of two
things. They can be literal, meaning they're actually trying to get into a real hotel, or they can be symbolic, meaning the hotel is representative of a place of safety or shelter. In this case, however, I'm going to say that this is a blend of the two, with both figurative and literal elements designed to provide both a narrative on what will happen, and a guide to what things you should do."

  "So which is which?"

  "Well, my guess would be, the family and the hotel are real, and the wall of darkness is symbolic. Perhaps the devil, or merely some unscrupulous individual, is trying to block them from finding shelter in the hotel you saw in the dream."

  John scratched his chin curiously.

  "That's possible. But how do I know for certain?"

  "Well, let me ask you a question. If you had to, could you remember who they were and what they looked like? As in, you'd be able to identify them if you saw them in real life?"

  John nodded.

  "Yeah, I remember the car, the family, the plate, everything. It was just as real as you and me standing here right now."

  "Good, that's the first sign that it was from God. Now, do you remember where you saw the car sitting?"

  "It was in front of the hotel."

  The man shook his head.

  "Ah, but that's where you'd be wrong. Think about the dream more."

  "What do you mean I'm wrong? We were in front of the hotel!"

  The man raised a finger, and said, "Ah, but that's just it. You said there was a wall of darkness that was in front of the hotel and prevented them from getting close or entering. That tells me they weren't actually as close as you think they were."

  John thought about this for a bit.

  "Alright, so let's assume that you're right and they weren't near the hotel. Where were they then? Or where were we for that matter?"

  "Well? What else do you remember from the dream? Any environmental sights, sounds, smells, etc?"

  John thought about this for a bit. Suddenly a flash of memory echoed in his mind.

  "Gas! I remember smelling gas!"

  "And...."

  "There's a gas station near the hotel! Well, the real one, anyways."

  The coworker smiled.

  "There you go. They were at the gas station. Now, one more question. What was on the license plate? You said you remember that."

  John scratched his chin slightly.

  "Well, oddly enough, it said 'Barton', almost like it was a vanity plate."

  The coworker furrowed his brow.

  "Call me silly, but I'm willing to bet that's more likely their name rather than their license plate number. Evidently someone named Barton will be at that gas station at some point in the near future needing a room at the hotel you saw in the dream. But due to circumstances beyond their control they will be unable to get inside," he said.

  John crossed his arms and leaned back slightly.

  "Hmm, that's possible. But why would they be barred from entering? I know that black fog thing was blocking their path in the dream, but what would it represent in real life?"

  The coworker mulled this over for a bit, but couldn't figure out what. Then an idea came to him.

  "What was the condition of the car?" he asked.

  "It was an older vehicle. I'm not sure the make or model, but it looked something like an old Dodge or Chrysler out of the late 80's."

  "And you said you'd be able to identify it if you saw it?"

  John nodded.

  "Yeah, clear as day. Why?"

  The coworker pursed his lips slightly.

  "Well, call me silly, but I think God's telling you to help someone get a hotel for the night who otherwise couldn't afford it, and at the same time showing you who it is you're to help, and even the specific means by which to do it. I say that because of the clarity and specificity of the dream."

  John pondered this briefly.

  "Okay, I can accept that. But who would it be and when would they be here?"

  "Given that He wouldn't let you sleep last night, I'd say that He's trying to express an urgency to this situation, as though they'll be arriving here sometime tonight."

  "You sure about that!?"

  "God kept giving you the same dream over and over again, didn't He?"

  "Yes, He did, and I didn't get a lick of rest because of it," replied John.

  "Then I think you need to go take care of this today."

  "But what if I'm wrong? I'd look like an idiot. Or worse yet, some creepy stalker. I mean, what are people going to think when I show up at a gas station and hand some random person a key to a hotel room?"

  "And what if I'm right and you don't act? Remember the story of Esther? Mordecai told her that she was put into power for just such a time and place, and if she didn't act God would destroy her and her family and bring salvation to the Jews through another person. I think the same could be said of you. God has given you so much. Now it's time to make good on those blessings and do this thing that God has asked of you. If you don't, God may take away all He's given you and use someone else to do the work instead. So? Will you obey His calling and risk looking like a fool, or do you want to play it safe and take a chance on losing everything you have?"

  This hit John between the eyes like a hammer.

  "No. I'll do it. If I'm wrong, at least I'll be doing it with the right intentions," he said.

  The coworker smiled.

  "That's all that matters."

  John smiled sheepishly in return. He still wasn't sure about himself, but he thought that if God was calling him to do this, then he'd do it, no matter what. So after work he climbed into his truck, drove downtown and went into the local La Quinta Inn.

  "Hi, I'd like to rent a room for the night," he said to the lady behind the desk.

  "Name?"

  "Um, well, I'm paying for the room but it's going to be used by a family coming in from out of town, if that's alright."

  "Their names?" she said without skipping a beat.

  John thought back about what his friend had said.

  "Barton."

  "First name?"

  "I'm not sure."

  The lady looked at him incredulously.

  "You're not sure?" she said in disbelief.

  John shrugged.

  "Well, I'm not certain which of the Bartons are going to be here, so I don't know whose name to put it under. Can you just put it under the last name and leave it at that?"

  She studied him with muted incredulity, and then continued with the check-in process.

  "Cash, check or credit?"

  "Credit, please. Oh, and can you add a complimentary dinner onto that?"

  "For how many?"

  John shrugged.

  "Three? I don't know. Can you make it so that whatever they need is charged to my card, including the room and everything else regardless of how much it costs?"

  "We can do that if you want."

  "Yes, please do."

  He then handed his card to the clerk, who quickly swiped it through the card reader and handed it back to him. After several more questions and a half dozens steps, she handed him two digital key cards.

  "Your room is number 117. Would you like standard or express checkout?"

  "What's the difference?"

  "Standard, you come down here to check out. Express, it checks you out automatically at 11am. So all you have to do is leave and we handle the rest."

  "Um, yes, I'd like express, please."

  The woman did a few more things with her terminal and then handed him a form to fill out and sign. Once he'd completed it he handed it back to her. She smiled.

  "Thank you and I hope your friends enjoy their stay at our hotel."

  John thanked her and then slipped out of the building. By now he was one step short of having a nervous breakdown, and even less confident that he was making the right decision. In some ways he felt as though this was just one big fat goose chase. He sighed slightly, climbe
d into his truck and headed down the road towards his home. But as he did a thought crossed his mind. The gas station. If this were real, and he'd actually heard from God, then they'd be there. Or if not right away, soon. Especially since it was getting towards dusk. So whoever this was he'd been told to get the room for, they'd likely be arriving soon. So he made his way over to a gas station near the hotel and parked.

  He then sat there for over an hour waiting, and waiting, and waiting, but there was no sign of the car he'd seen in his dream. This caused the doubt in his mind to grow even larger and stronger. Just then a knock came at his window. To his surprise he saw two young men standing just outside his truck door. Both men had goatees, piercings of all kinds scattered across their bodies, twice as many tattoos, and a look of evil in their eyes as though he were staring the Devil in the face. One of the men pointed a small caliber pistol at him.

  "Get out, punk. Now!" shouted one of them.

  John carefully climbed out of the truck and held his hands in the air. The one without the gun then walked up to him, rifled through his pockets and took his phone, his wallet, his watch, and anything else of value on him as the other prepared to take his truck. Just then a police car came into the gas station, saw the robbery in progress, and immediately turned on its lights and blared its siren causing the two men to panic and sprint to their car. Wheels screamed, bullets flew and the chase was on as the two cars raced down the street and into the darkness of the night. John stood there shell shocked, hands still in the air, not sure what to think or do next. Then he thought about the dream.

  The darkness. His wallet had been taken. Suddenly believing, for the first time since receiving the dream, that God had really sent him on this mission, his actions didn't seem quite so foolish anymore, nor did his friend's interpretation. Just then a car, looking exactly like the one in his dream, right down to the last nick, dent, and splotch of rust, pulled into the station. John's jaw hit the ground. He put his hands down and stood there watching as the driver got out, filled up with gas, and then went inside.

  "Lord is this them? Is this really the one you wanted me to help?" he thought.

  But God didn't answer. In fact, it felt as though he'd just asked the obvious and had thus been ignored because of it. As his pastor once said, there's nothing that silences the voice of God faster than blatant sin or the asking of a question you already know the answer to. Clearly he must've already known the answer because God didn't say a word to him. So he waited until the driver came back outside, and then began walking his way. But just as he made the first step towards the car he felt a strong voice in his heart tell him to wait. He wasn't sure if he should, because if they pulled away he'd miss his chance. Instead, to his complete surprise, the driver started the car, pulled over to a nearby parking spot and shut off the engine. An eyebrow went up slightly.

  Clearly that was why God had told him to wait. But the time to do so was over and now it was time to act. He immediately scrambled into his truck, grabbed the two room keys and hurried over to the car. As he looked inside he noticed the driver praying. While he didn't want to interrupt them, he did see that they were in great need. So he knocked on the window causing them to jump in surprise. He watched as they quickly locked the doors and recoiled in fear. Given the situation he could understand their feelings. The driver then lowered their window slightly, just enough to speak with him.

  "Yes? Can I help you?" they asked.

  "Are you Barton?" asked John.

  The driver seemed surprised at this.

  "Yeah," came the uncertain reply.

  "You're heading east, right?"

  "Yeah," replied the driver slowly.

  John nervously fingered the two key cards in his hand.

  "Well, last night God gave me a dream and told me that you would be coming through here and would need some place to stay for the night, and said to wait for you here. So here you are, and here I am, and...well, this is for you," he said awkwardly.

  He then pressed a set of key cards through the window.

  "These are the keys to the hotel room God told me get for you. Um, I've arranged for dinner for you and your family and...well, um, God said He'd handle the rest."

  He then gulped nervously, turned, headed over to his truck and drove away. Yet as awkward and embarrassed as he felt, he had an incredible feeling of peace about him. Even though he'd felt awkward about it the whole time, he felt as though he'd done something wonderful for the Lord. The only thing he'd need to figure out now is what to do about the two me who'd just robbed him.

  The Phone Call

  "Hey, Rocket!"

  A young teenage, about fourteen years of age with spiked orange, punk style hair, piercings all over his body, a multitude of tattoos and a smart snidely attitude, looked up from his computer and stared across the desk at his best friend, a kid named Sidmond, or "Sid" for short, who was a nerd of the highest order, complete with glasses and a polka dot bowtie. Rocket looked at his friend and grinned. Even though they were polar opposites in appearance, they both shared an common passion: Computers, and most especially hacking. Or "security evaluation and testing" as they preferred to call it. Rocket quietly studied his friend and grinned slyly.

  "What's up, Sid?" he asked.

  "Hey, are you up for something fun tonight?" asked Sid.

  Rocket snorted.

  "Dude, always. What'cha got in mind?"

  "It's something one of my Facebook friends was talking about last night. He said his dad, back in the days before computers, did something called freaking."

  Rocket screwed up his face in confusion.

  "Like dressing up all weird and doing creepy things?"

  Sid frowned.

  "No, silly. It was phone hacking, but done in the age before computers."

  "Oh," said Rocket in interest. "Sounds fun. But we can't do freaking anymore. Well, not that kind of freaking."

  Sid laughed.

  "Actually, we can. I've been doing a bunch of reading and, given that all the phones these days are digital, it'll be easy peazy for us."

  Rocket perked up.

  "Really," he said, his interest growing. "How easy are we talking? Easy, as in not getting caught and having the FBI kicking in our door, or easy as in calling someone and totally creeping them out."

  "Both."

  Rocket rubbed his hands together as a devilish grin crossed his face.

  "Oooo, sounds like fun. When do we begin?"

  "Log in to Mumble when you get home and we'll get started. I've got a tap in place in one of Level 3's regional Juniper routers we can use to freak some people."

  Rocket looked at him in surprise.

  "You've got a tap into a Juniper!? Dude, I'm jealous. How long have you had that!?"

  "For about the last nine months," said Sid flatly.

  "Man, you shouldn't be holding out on me like that! Imagine the fun we could've had with something so high up on the later of epic!"

  "I didn't tell you because I know what you'd do, and I spent too much time breaking into it to risk you screwing it up for us."

  "Whoa, that's cold, man," chuckled Rocket. "But you're probably right. So you've had it all this time and they haven't found it?"

  Sid shook his head.

  "Not yet. But when they do their next IOS upgrade at the end of the month I'll lose the tap. So we may as well use it while it lasts."

  "So who's Juniper is it?"

  "Level 3, of course. Who else would we hack?"

  Rocket looked at him in confusion.

  "Man, you are so many levels of epic win, dude. But, um, how does a tap into a core router help us?"

  "It's one of the hubs Verizon routes through."

  Rocket's eyes lit up.

  "Oh.....my.....," he said with an amazed grin. "Dude, you serious!?"

  Sid nodded.

  "Dead serious."

  Rocket gave a gleeful, almost devilish laugh.
He was going to like this. He couldn't wait for the fun to start. Eventually the school day ended and Rocket wasted no time getting home. As soon as his feet hit the threshold of his front door he immediately shed everything of the school day, and then made a beeline for his bedroom, his own personal little man cave, quickly began turning on all of his computer equipment. As soon as it was up he logged into his computer, hoping to get online before Sid. Much to his dismay though, he didn't succeed, as Sid beat him online by a good two minutes.

  Rocket put his headset on, and asked, "We live and ready?"

  "I'm just waiting for my tools to load," replied Sid.

  "Sweet! So who we pranking first? Got any names?"

  "I was actually thinking about doing it randomly. If we start picking people we know it'll make it too easy for the Feds to find us. Random people who don't know us will make it a lot harder for the authorities to figure out who it was."

  "Yeah, good idea, dude. I don't want no juvie time. Mom would ground me for a billion years if that happened," replied Rocket.

  "I'd be more worried about the Feds locking us in a room and throwing away the room."

  "Yeah, totally. That'd really make for a bad day."

  "Okay, my tools are loaded and I'm in. Looks like we'll only get three or four calls out of this before they drop the hammer on us. I'm seeing a monitor about two hops away keeping an eye on us. I'll try to route around it right now and keep us alive as long as possible, but we could lose our link at any time."

  Rocket swore.

  "I knew it was too good to be true!" he muttered.

  "Don't panic, Rocket. This just makes it more exciting."

  "How so?"

  "The thrill of the chase," chuckled Sid.

  "If you say so."

  Just then the sound of ringing briefly echoed in Rocket's ear.

  "Wait! Are we calling someone already!?"

  "Nope, just linking with Verizon. One second. Okay, we're in. Get your voice modulator ready. When you're up I'll put through a random call."

  "Alright, modulator is up," replied Rocket, his voice changing from clear and articulate to sounding like it'd been sent through a shredder. "So who are we gonna pretend to be?" he continued.

  A light, almost mischievous chuckle echoed from the other end.

  "I say we go divine," replied Sid.

  A devilish grin crossed Rocket's lips.

  "God mode, baby," he replied.

  "Alright, phone call going through," said Sid.

  "Bring it on!"

  The two boys then listened quietly as the sound of ringing could be heard in their headphones. This was soon followed by a click, and then a voice.

  "Hello?" came a voice.

  "Showtime," thought Rocket. "This is God," he said, his voice now big and booming as he adjusted his modulator to give his words a more authoritative feel.

  "God!?" came the quivering reply.

  "Yes, I am your creator!" bellowed Rocket, doing all in his power not to laugh.

  "Oh, um, what...uh, what are you calling me for?" stuttered the caller.

  "Wow, this is going better than I thought," typed Rocket in a separate chat window.

  "Just stay on mission or this prank will go south on us real fast," typed Sid in reply.

  "Yeah, I'm on it," typed Sid in return. "I want you to leave your house. Now!" he said aloud so that the caller could hear him.

  "Leave it!?"

  "YES, GO!" shouted Sid, his voice booming over the phone. "Leave your home NOW and never look back! It is vital that you do this immediately and obey me without question!"

  There was a pregnant, nervous pause on the other end. Sid and Rocket almost though the caller had hung up. Eventually there was the sound of a hard swallow that could barely be heard through their headphones.

  "Alright, I'll go. But where?"

  "Just go. I will show you on the way."

  "Yes, Lord," came the anxious reply.

  The call then ended. The two boys laughed and whooped with glee.

  "Oh man! That was tight! Dude, we need to do that again!" said Rocket.

  "Can't. They cut the connection," replied Sid.

  "Wait, what!?"

  "Yeah, it looks like, despite my best efforts, they spotted us and cut the link. I guess we'll just have to try hacking something else so we can continue freaking."

  Rocket grumbled.

  "Great. And I was just starting to have fun."

  Just then a knock and an inaudible shout came at the front door.

  "Hey, someone's at the door. I'll be right back."

  "Okay, I've gotta go answer my door too. Catch you in a few," replied Sid.

  Rocket then put his headphones down, trotted across the house and opened the front door. Standing there in full swat gear were several officers.

  "Police! On the ground! You're under arrest!" shouted one of the men.

  Rocket swore.

  Instant Winner

  Kelly, the store manager at the local Chevron station, walked into his store and headed straight towards his office in the back. He normally worked the morning shift. But because of a doctors appointment he'd been forced to come in later than normal. Even so, he still had a lot of paperwork to do. As he walked into his office he was greeted by a pile of mail on his desk. He frowned slightly.

  "There's never a day around here that I don't get buried in mail," he sighed.

  As he flipped through the thick stack of letters one envelope in particular caught his attention. It was from corporate, and appeared urgent. Curious, he opened it and pulled out its contents. Inside was a pack of gift certificates for a variety of businesses, as well as several pages of instructions on what to do with them. As he was reading this his morning shift manager walked into the office.

  "What's that? Something from corporate?" he asked.

  Kelly pursed his lips slightly.

  "Yeah. From what I'm reading they're having a contest, starting today of all days, and whoever wins gets one of these gift packs. The crazy part is, it's supposed to be a surprise, so they're not giving us any signage or a display of any kind to go with this. It's just random prizes to random customers."

  The morning manager grunted.

  "Gee, sure was nice of them not notify us sooner. It means I now have to sit down and plug all this stuff into the computers as quickly as possible before we get our butts chewed by corporate for not being on the ball with this," he muttered.

  "Actually, you don't have to do anything. According to this, corporate has already done that and sent us the necessary updates as part of our nightlies. So it should already be live in system. Have you had any hits yet?"

  "Not a single one, which I'm thankful for as I wouldn't have known want to do had we gotten a hit. So how does this notify us of a winner?"

  Kelly studied one of the papers in the envelope.

  "According to this, whenever someone starts pumping, if they're a winner it's supposed to trigger an alert in the store and immediately shut down their pump. We then give them the ticker tape parade, take a picture, give them up to thirty five gallons of free gas, hand them their winners pack, and then send them on their way."

  The shift supervisor chuckled.

  "Why doesn't cool stuff like this ever happen to us?"

  Kelly frowned.

  "We're corporate slaves. They don't allow us to have good things like this. It'd make us think we were actually worth something."

  The supervisor laughed. Just then one of the tills in the store began chiming. A moment later one of the attendants came into the office with a befuddled look on their face.

  "Sir, my terminal is doing something really weird. It's telling me to come get you because we have a winner!?"

  "And....we have our first victim," quipped the supervisor.

  "That was timely," replied Kelly.

  "First...eh, victim, sir?" asked the attendant.

  Kelly waved dismiss
ively.

  "It's part of a surprise contest corporate is doing. I'll walk you through it in a minute as I've gotta put my credentials into the till in order to complete our side of the hoops and ladders necessary to make corporate happy. So did the alert give a pump number?"

  "Yes, sir. Pump nine. As soon as they tried pumping it completely shut them down. I told them to hold on while I figure out what's up," said the attendant.

  "Alright, tell them to come on in. We'll explain things to them and then see to it that they get their prizes," said Kelly.

  "Yes, sir."

  The attendant then slipped away as Kelly gathered up the envelope full of prize slips and headed out to the counter where he found the attendant and a surprised guest waiting for him. He looked at the screen in front of him, plugged in his credentials and was told which prize pack he was to give out. He fumbled through the envelope looking for the one the computer specified and soon found it. He then looked at the list of items in the package and furrowed his brow slightly before looking up at the customer.

  "Wow, are you the lucky one today," he said.

  "What do you mean?" asked the customer.

  "Well, you're the winner in our surprise giveaway. According to this, not only do you get a free tank of gas, but you also get a hundred dollars cash and a certificate for a free room and dinner at the Budget Inn just down the street."

  The customer looked at him in surprise.

  "Dinner and a hotel room!?" they said in amazement.

  "Yeah, and a hundred dollars free spending cash and a tank of free gas."

  He watched as the customer began to cry with joy and then laughed when they hugged him. Finally they backed up apologetically and smiled sheepishly. Kelly laughed.

  "If only all my customers were as grateful as you," he chuckled.

  "Well, shall we get the picture?" asked the supervisor.

  Kelly nodded, grabbed $100 out of the till, and then with all of their prizes in hand, the customer posed with the store manager and shift supervisor and got their picture taken. After this they went out and fueled their car, and then drove away, tears still streaming down their face. As they did, the supervisor stood in the main window of the store and watched them go. After seeing the customer's response, he felt good that they had gotten the prize and not someone else.

  "Despite working for a soulless corporate behemoth that treats you like cattle, there are some days that I actually love my job," he said.

  Kelly laughed.

  "Don't say that too loud or the oligarchs might hear you," he quipped.

  The supervisor shrugged.

  "Yeah, really. I mean, you can't go and let the minions be happy, now can you?"

  Kelly shook his head.

  "Not in this world, I'm afraid."

  The Late Run

  Roger awoke with a start as his phone began ringing loudly. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over to see who it was. He groaned when he saw the number. It was his employer; a local trucking company who specialized in urgent loads.

  "Yeah," he said groggily as he answered the phone.

  "Hey, Roger, sorry to do this to you on your day off, but can you come in? We've got a hot load due in Texas tomorrow morning and the drivers who were scheduled to take it called in sick," came a voice on the other end.

  Roger groaned.

  "Come on, Chuck, you know I haven't had a day off in two weeks. That's why I took today off, man."

  "I know, and I understand, but we're short handed and you're my only free driver right now, and I don't want to lose this contract by being late again."

  Roger sighed.

  "Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can. When does this load have to be moving?"

  "By 8:05 at the latest. I know that's really short notice, but do you think you can do it?"

  Roger sighed again.

  "Yeah, I can do it. I'll be there as fast as I can."

  "Thanks, I appreciate it. And just for doing this I'll give you double pay for the load. Sound good?"

  Roger laughed.

  "Hey, for double pay I'll drive to the moon."

  "Alright, see you as soon as you get here."

  Roger hung up and swore slightly, and then climbed out of bed, the sun just starting to break on the horizon as the first rays of day began peaking through the window. He quickly slipped on his cloths and then trotted out to his truck. Twenty minutes later he pulled into work and parked near the loading docks. Not far away, Chuck, his boss, stood holding a clipboard and a set of keys.

  "What'cha got for me today, chief?" he asked.

  "You'll be driving 2620 today. I know it's not your normal rig, but yours is in the shop for its monthly maintenance. So you get the backup rig for today," he said.

  Roger shrugged.

  "Hey, if it rolls and doesn't chug, I don't care," he replied.

  He took the clipboard and keys and made his way down the line of trailers as he headed to pick up his truck and grab his load. He took a quick look at his watch. It was 7:45am. He'd need to hurry if he wanted to be rolling by 8:05. He looked down at the clipboard and scanned the paperwork until he spotted the trailer ID.

  "HB56905. HB. HB," he said to himself as he tried to spot the trailer he was looking for. Eventually he did. But much to his chagrin, the trailer he was to haul had likely one of the most ridiculous paint jobs he'd ever seen. On it was a gigantic pair of crocheted mittens laid out on a piece of butcher block. Below it were the words, "Go to Michigan. Don't Ask Why. Just Do It." He cocked an eyebrow slightly in disbelief.

  "You see it too, eh?" said another driver nearby.

  Roger turned around and looked at him.

  "What's up with the weird trailer?"

  "Don't know. It came in last night as an outbound hot load for this morning. Is that the one you're taking today?"

  "Yeah. Gotta get it down to Texas by tomorrow morning, 9am."

  "Wooowee! That is a hot load! You think you're gonna make it?"

  "I don't know, but I'm gonna give it my best shot."

  "Man, that's a long haul too. Got a backup driver going with you?"

  "Nope, just me. Chuck is down a couple drivers, so I'm all he's got left."

  The other driver looked at him in surprise.

  "Man, don't get caught by the fuzz."

  Roger frowned.

  "Yeah, tell me about it. Well, I've gotta get rolling."

  "Alright, be careful out there and don't get caught speeding. That'll just make it worse."

  Roger snorted.

  "Yeah, tell me about it."

  He then headed over to his truck, started it up, did his checks as fast as he could, and then backed up to the trailer. By the time he hooked and was heading out of the lot it was already 8:09. This trip was quickly starting out on a bad note and he hoped it didn't get any worse. He accelerated out of the yard and was soon on his way. But as was typical for this part of town it didn't take long before he became snarled in traffic and his rig brought to an absolute and complete standstill.

  "Oh come on, people, MOVE!" he shouted as he laid on his horn.

  But despite his best encouragements the cars remained stationary. He honked again, but longer this time. Still nothing moved. It was a four wheel parking lot and nobody was going anywhere. Eventually the cars began to move and within a handful of minutes he was able to reach the highway on ramp and start rolling. It wasn't long after that before he was up to speed and rushing out of the city, already considerably far behind, hoping beyond hope in the back of his mind that he'd be able to make the delivery on time.

  That would mean going the entire distance without breaks or stops of any kind, save for fuel. He would need to use every trick in the book if he wanted to get there on time. Even if he somehow came in late, the double pay for the load out and the bobtail back would be well worth it. The only thing he had to do then was figure out where to get another day off. The way he was going it'd be next y
ear before that happened.

  Stormy Weather

  "Hey, Bert, come take a look at this," came a voice from the door.

  A man sitting at the desk, the chief weatherman for KTLA TV, looked up to see one of his assistants standing there.

  "Yeah, what is it Sally?" he asked.

  "Come take a look at this. You're not going to believe what's just happened."

  The man cocked an eyebrow slightly and then followed her out of the room and over to a side office where a wall full of computers were chewing on data and displaying the expected results onto a series of screens hanging in front of them.

  Sally pointed at one of the screens, and said, "This is what I was talking about."

  Bert walked up to the screen and had to readjust his glasses to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

  "Where did that come from?" he asked.

  "I don't know. The SPC just spotted it five minutes ago and gave us a ring to see if we'd seen it too."

  "You mean the guys in Norman didn't see this coming?"

  "Apparently not. The guy I talked to said it caught them completely off guard."

  Bert shook his head in surprise.

  "But we're in the dry season. This shouldn't be happening," he said in disbelief.

  "I know. That's what they said. But apparently this spun up out of nowhere and is growing in intensity in ways they've never seen before. If it continues on its current path it's going to spawn some really severe storms over LA. SPC is so spooked by it they're considering issuing a tornado watch for our area."

  Bert blinked and did a surprised double take.

  "A tornado watch!? California doesn't get tornadoes! Well, not usually at least, and certainly never at this time of year!"

  Sally shrugged.

  "Well? Then how do you explain this!?"

  Bert looked at the screen again and the prediction loop showing a rapidly escalating chance of severe weather over the city.

  "Should we call a weather watch? Maybe warn people this is coming?" asked Sally as Bert continued to study the screen in disbelief.

  He thought about this for a bit, and then shook his head.

  "Not yet. Let's wait and see if the SPC issues a watch first. If they do we'll start telling people. Until then we'll keep this quiet. No need to cry wolf and look like a fool."

  Sally crossed her arms and snorted.

  "If this goes in the direction I think it will, crying wolf will be the least of our worries."

  "Well then, let's grab the charts and make sure that the SPC is right and that it's not another one of their computer glitches."