Ava's writing piece

Prologue--

In Kirin’s mind, it was the new health food store that started all the trouble.

If Joe’s had never opened on South Chapel Street, he never would have purchased that miniscule camera, which meant he never would have put together a certain slideshow, and never shouted a certain word quite loudly, and therefore never had something very dear to his heart blown to pieces after a small explosive was detonated in the wall next to it. The bomb wouldn’t have been there at all, if it weren’t for Joe and his health foods.

It was just his luck, though, that all those things did happen, and maybe—Kirin wouldn’t acknowledge this, though—maybe some of them were, in a way, his fault too.

A lot was Kirin’s fault, but he didn’t like admitting to that kind of thing.

Chapter One--

Kirin had a chair called Al, the kind that swiveled and had wheels. Al was short for Alrik, which was the name the chair had come with when he bought it for fifteen dollars plus tax.

He had been sitting there, spinning back and forth in that very chair, two weeks before, when his laptop emitted a tinny ringing sort of noise. Scooting over to his desk, Kirin saw his Skype was open and was displaying the message Randolph Snidely is requesting to video chat with you.

A short time later he was hunched over his desk, deep in hushed conversation with the pixelated image of a man wearing a red mask.

“Kirin, problems are cropping up everywhere. It’s some kind of movement starting. Calliope’s just messaged us, and she says Number 7 is coming to Almond to start up some kind of store,” said the voice behind mask.

“Coming to Almond? You mean this Almond? My town?” Kirin bit his lower lip fiercely.

“Of course I mean your town. Now, what this means is--”

“What this means? It means Number 7 knows who I am and where I live! Do you realize how bad that is?! My life is in danger!” he cried shrilly, and slapped his palm on the desk with unnecessary force. A water glass beside the computer rattled and tipped, spilling lumps of melting ice on Kirin’s lap.

“Get a grip on yourself, for god’s sake,” the masked man shot back. “I know what it means. We’re giving you an assignment.”

“Took you long enough,” Kirin muttered. He flicked the ice to floor and stared into the eye-holes of the red mask.

“I heard that, you know, even with this kind of sound quality. The reason you haven’t had a job to do in two months--”

“Three!” he interrupted, and then immediately fell silent. The man behind the mask was the only one he knew who could shut someone up with a look while their face was hidden.

“The reason you haven’t had a job to do in three months is because you’re just so cut off from all the rest of us. You know that we can’t send letters, or email. Communication is ridiculously difficult when you’re across the country.”

“Yeah, well, we’re skyping right now, aren’t we?”

The red mask ignored him.

“Kirin, you understand. You’re just too stubborn to admit it. Now, do you want to know the details of your assignment or not?”
         “Maybe I don’t even want an assignment after all!” Kirin stabbed a pen into the wood, making a tiny navy-blue hole.

“See what I mean? So stubborn. And I will ask you to keep in mind that I am in charge of you and you do what I say,” he replied calmly. “Calliope is coming to the area for a night. Meet her at the cafe at the corner of Northeast and Triangle, and she’ll tell you what you need to know.” With that, the red mask was gone and the screen blank. Kirin closed the laptop and spun a few times in his chair, scowling.

The man with the mask’s name was not really Randolph Snidely. He was, though, really Kirin’s boss and not someone to disregard. And so, the next day, Kirin walked downtown and into The Roost, his favorite place for coffee, to talk to Calliope.

It would be unwise, very foolish really, to waltz into previously disclosed meeting place, and, in public, discuss things not meant for the ears of a few choice antagonists. One thing Kirin had learned was you never knew who was listening.

That was why, when Kirin walked into the café and immediately spotted the young woman with braided hair and a red knit scarf, he waved and made a few hand motions before sitting down opposite her, rather than speaking. She smiled and motioned back, before standing up and looking towards the counter and glass case full of pastries.

Calliope was deaf. It was thanks to her that Kirin was fluent in American Sign Language, and thanks to her they had a way to meet in a public place and not be eavesdropped on.

It also helped that they were not, actually, in the coffee shop on the corner of Northeast and Triangle, but at the other side of down.

Kirin and Calliope stood side by side in line, catching up with each other. How have you been? Calliope signed, then began unwinding her scarf.

Altogether, fine. How’s Daniel? Daniel was Calliope’s boyfriend, Kirin’s good friend back when he lived in San Francisco with everyone else.

He’s fine. We miss you, you know.

 Since he’d relocated to the town of Almond, Massachusetts, things had been very different.

Sure, there were benefits. His new favorite frozen yogurt place downtown. The new chair, Alrik, from the IKEA in New Haven, Connecticut. Living in more of a country setting. Snow--and with that came skiing in the Berkshire Mountains.

Sometimes, though, he felt the good things were overshadowed by the shortcomings. Most prominently, the distance. Kirin had known from the start it would be tough to be suddenly separated by thousands of miles from his boss and his coworkers. The entire organization, for the most part, was, most of the time, unreachable. It was unsafe to send letters, as they were aware of agents working in the US mail services that could very easily intercept information. Brief emails were okay, as long as they didn’t write frequently. Skype went the same way. Kirin’s boss regularly wore masks as a part of his day job, but also for most communications with others in the organization—either on the computer or sometimes in person. And besides the fact it was annoyingly difficult to get information across the country, Kirin missed everyone. Greatly. He didn’t have money for the air fare at the moment, so he really was stuck in Almond. On his own.

I miss everyone too, he signed back, and slightly overcome, gave Calliope a hug. She smiled at him, then touched his arm, turning him in the direction of the woman behind the counter. They’d reached the front of the line.

He ordered a tomato and mozzarella sandwich and an ice coffee.

Once they were sitting opposite of each other, beginning to eat their respective lunches, Calliope began.

R typed this up for you. She pushed a sheaf of clipped-together papers across the table in his direction. R was the name their boss preferred, short for Randolph, which was cover for something else only a few people knew. It’s quicker to read it than having me tell you.

He began to scan the first pages, his eyebrows contracting.

Calliope tapped the passage on the bottom half of the second page. Right there’s the summary. Read it now.

Kirin’s eyes darted across the block of text, growing more agitated the further he read.

Starting on the first of November, you will be taking the place of a flight attendant for Delta airlines in order to gain information on various agents of Number Seven working for said airline. All expenses for air fare to Atlanta, Georgia for training will be covered by us, as will be the cost of training. As you speak very good Japanese as well as English we are confident that you will be able to attain a job and begin flying as soon as possible.

He can’t be serious! Kirin glared across the table as he signed. This is my assignment?

Calliope bit her lip. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize! He snatched up his empty cup and plate and slammed them into the bus bucket. I’m leaving. Tell Daniel hi.

With that, Kirin zipped his jacket and stormed out of the café.

Calliope rested her chin in her hands. She’d known Kirin a long time and of course knew how hot-tempered he was. But throwing a tantrum because he didn’t want to be a flight attendant? She had almost forgotten how irritatingly immature he could be.

Chapter 2--

The following emails are transcripts of our protagonist Kirin’s correspondence with his boss, “Randolph Snidely” and read as follows:

To: rsnidely@touchlesstoweldispensers.com

From: kirin.r@gmail.com

Subject: NO WAY

are you insane? i don’t think ive ever said anything in my life before about being a flight attendant this is NOT th assignment i wanted and im not going to do it. what made you pick me of all people? i still don’t believe this

-kirin

To: kirin.r@gmail.com

From: rsnidely@touchlesstoweldispensers.com

Subject: Calm down.

Kirin,

First of all, I think everyone would appreciate it if you didn’t write us emails while in an angry state of mind, as it really influences your correct grammar, punctuation, capitalization, and politeness. We all know you’re more than capable of typing a capital “i”.

Now, secondly, please think carefully. I selected this assignment for you because you were the obvious choice for this! You have a very outgoing personality, graduated from a good college, and also happen to be fluent in of course English but also very proficient in ASL and Japanese. In short: they can’t turn you down.

I knew before I gave you this assignment you were going to react in a similar manner, but, please, Kirin—think carefully about this. We need you. You’ve been wanting an assignment. I personally think this is a great opportunity to stop waiting tables and see the world.

Sleep on it.

           

-R.

P.S. Being a waiter gives you experience in the world of customer service! Again, there is no way they’re going to turn you down.

Thank you, Ava!