565,779¥ (Chapter 22 of 38)

Gil's latest "guests" might actually be less intelligent than the last ones. None of them are getting any easier to deal with. But at least his new relationship is taking the edge off...or sharpening it, depending on how one looks at it. Either way, Newfoundland is nowhere near Finland!

Transcript

So now Melvin had a broken rib, broken arm, and a hole in his foot. The arm and foot weren’t so bad, but without pain killers the rib made another boat ride impossible. Good thing pain killers were never hard to come by. He was going to be alone this time though, and it worried me. Everything worried me, but this really worried me. The pick-up was 1:00 am, and all he knew about the refugees was that they were probably rich. 

It appeared the third time was the charm because the pick-up went without a hitch. Kind of. 

I could hear Melvin cursing quietly when he turned the engine off at the wharf. The painkillers numbed his broken rib (although he certainly felt it the next day), and his passengers were fine, but they weren’t really refugees. 

“Hi,” a skinny blond kid said, holding out his hand. “If you haven’t recognized me by now, I’m Box, and this is my colleague, Number 3.” Number 3 was chubbier than his “colleague.” “And out there somewhere,” he said, pointing into the darkness, “is my stalker-drone, Pepe. Say hi, Pepe.” 

“Bonjour,” said a friendly voice in the dark. Its propellors were so quiet I couldn’t hear them. I assume that’s what was keeping it afloat, but who knows these days? 

“What the hell am I going to do with them?” Melvin asked. “That fucking drone has been recording us ever since the goddamn drop-off. I felt like throwing them overboard after they told me what they were doing.”

“I already warn you about violence,” Pepe said somewhere in the darkness. “Any show of violence from you and I am program to upload the video to all social media, mon ami. But you no have to worry about that. We would never reveal our subjects to the authorities. We’re simply making a documentary.” The accent sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where.

“Who are they?” I said. 

“The CBC,” they both said at once. 

“Journalists? Like, news reporters? I thought the CBC was gone years ago?” 

“Dead? No sir. The Cosmic Bipedal Caricatures have thousands of views a day. Are you sure you haven’t heard of us?” 

“Absolutely sure,” Melvin said. 

“I daresay I’d remember that name,” I said. “I mean everyone in Canada over sixty heard of the CBC before, but it’s a different thing here. Or it was.” 

“Really?” Box said. “What was it?”

“Here it stood for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, but it got defunded, and had to operate on its own. They tried everything. Even softcore porn, but that didn’t pan out either. It’s too bad.

“Fuck CBC! What about the fact that we’ve got these two jackasses who recorded everything I just did without my permission? We can go to prison. Prison! Do you realize that, Dad?” 

“You’re not going to prison,” Number 3 said. “We’ll get Pepe to deep fake your faces and voice.”

“I never heard talk of people being forced into a documentary before.” 

“This is the only way we could do it,” Box said.  “We could have easily not even told you about Pepe. It has a cloaking device for patterned surroundings. You would never have known. The fact that we’re being upfront with you shows our integrity, doesn’t it?”  

“Just because you’re being honest doesn’t mean I don’t want to strangle you. You’re lucky you didn’t tell the skipper of that boat you just got off because you really would be on the bottom of the ocean by now, drone or no drone.” 

“We figured that out fairly early. The skipper’s son is a lunatic.” 

“Deep fake? Can you make me better looking?” I asked. 

“Woah, it’s an A.I drone, not a quantum computer. I’m kidding. We can work on your profile later. Are the lodgings near?” 

“The lodgings?” Melvin said. “This isn’t an Airbnb, you’re illegal aliens! This is serious business. Am I the only one shitting in my pants here? No offense, Dad.”

“None taken.”  

“Do you have your money?” Number 3 asked Melvin.  

“I don’t know yet.” 

“The funds are transferred when we land ten minutes ago mon ami,” Pepe said.  

“I’ll check that when I get to my palm.”  

“Was the boat ride difficult?” I said. 

“It wasn’t bad until we got aboard with him,” Box said, cocking his thumb toward Melvin. 

“With all the pressure I’m under, finding out I’m on a goddamn show was a little more than I could handle.”

“Documentary, not show. You threw a paddle at the drone.” 

“What odds.”

“And then you’re other paddle. And rope. And a fishing rod. That stick with the hook on the end. The anchor. I even think he even threw a boot at it.” 

“I didn’t hit it.”  

“So what happens now?” Box said. 

“I take you to the basement of my house, and you stay there until things are straightened away.”

“What stops you from bribing us with this video a year down the road?”

“Nothing, but we won’t. Just watch our v-cast and I’m sure you’ll realize we have the utmost journalistic integrity.” 

“You must be starving,” I said. “Dart up to the house we gets some food down in you.”

“Are you just going swallow this? Even if they do deepfake our faces and voice, you think the feds won't figure out the area?” 

“We only filmed directly at the boat. We’ll deepfake over anything that gives away your position.” 

“If you’re going to deepfake over everything, what’s the point of even doing it?”

“And what if you make a mistake?” I asked. 

“We won't. We never have before, and we’ve been in some of the deepest ‘terrorist’,” he made air quotes, “’bunkers’ in the ‘United States.’ ‘None’ of them have been discovered after we ‘aired.’ Yes, all of them were eventually disappeared, but not because of ‘us.’”

“Did you blackmail them too? You just put air quotes around half the ‘words’ you said.” 

“Blackmail involves taking money,” Box said. “We just gave you a pile. All you have to do is continue on as you normally would with any refugee, and nothing will happen.”

“He’s being very stubborn,” the drone said. 

“You’ll get stubborn,” Melvin said, and a flimsy object whipped through the air towards the voice, where it splashed into the water. 

“There goes his other boot,” the drone said. “You’re never going to hit me. I have the visual reflexes of musca domestica, your common housefly.” 

“Why did you throw your boot at it?” I asked.

“Because I threw the other goddamn one at it. One boot is not much good.” 

“Look,” Box said, “smuggling refugees is big business all over Canada, and as I’m sure you know, the protestant church is running it. That’s the only thing keeping them afloat. Attendance has gone up since the Americans started arriving, but it’s still not enough to support the outlandish salaries of the protestant elders.”

“We don’t use that word anymore,” I said. 

“Sorry, the LBEPQMRANSAU. Are you in the church? I guess that’s a dumb question.”

“Never miss a Sunday,” I said. “And I don’t know about the fellas at the top, but I do know Reverend Tom ain’t no rich man.” 

“The low-level clergy usually aren’t. But they do get a percentage. Probably more than you think.”

“He didn’t mention anything about goddamn money to me. Acted like he was doing it from the kindness of his heart. Should have known.”   

“He probably gets somewhere around five percent. The church gets fifteen.” 

“You don’t really know that for sure though,” I said. 

“Is it okay if we head to our lodgings?”  

Once we got to the house Box told Pepe to hide away in the woods somewhere. I showed them their temporary lodgings in the basement and took them upstairs for a lunch. Dan was more partial to quick butt-sniffing with men, so once he got that out of the way he seemed to really like Box and Number 3. But I guess he wagged his tail for just about everyone that came into the house. 

If they stayed up at all when they went downstairs, I didn’t hear them, but I was sound asleep in minutes anyway. 

The next day I went for a drive with Delilah to get my mind off of everything. Melvin stayed home. I don’t know where I got the nerve to ask her. Well, I didn’t ask her in person. I texted her because I was too nervous. Okay, truth be told, I got Lig to text her. Same thing. I expected her to say no anyway, so I figured I had nothing to lose. But she said yes. Then I had everything to lose.

I assume you won't be bringing the dog?

You don’t have to worry.

You won't have to worry about me going if you do.

Dan will be staying home.

Okay. I’ll be ready at 9 am.”

Excellent. I’ll see you then.

When I knocked on her door at 8:45 she opened it and said she would be out in a minute. I was about to step in and she closed the door in my face. I stood on the front step for a minute, not really sure what to think, then walked back to my car. Ten minutes later I was starting to wonder if she had changed her mind, but she finally came out and got aboard. 

“I wasn’t expecting you this early,” she said. 

Instead of responding to what she just said, or asking how her day was I just blurted, “Where do you want to go?” I was trying to be all cool and relaxed but it wasn’t working. The car carried a better conversation than me. I felt like we were back in high school and I was still that dumb, ugly little loser, and she was still that beautiful, talented girl that I had a better chance of winning the lottery than getting with. But the fact is I was with her. I wasn’t sure if it was an actual date or just the beginning of a friendship, but I would take either. And she was still beautiful as far as I was concerned. 

“You’re the driver,” she said. 

“Car, take us somewhere with nice ocean scenery within forty miles.”

“Squid Beach it is, Gil.” 

“What? No, somewhere within forty miles.” 

“Squid Beach is just down the road, Gil.” 

“Isn’t there a sewage line running out there?” Delilah asked. 

“Yes! There’s a great view of the bubbles from the north side of the beach.” 

“No!” I said. “No Squid Beach. I meant somewhere between thirty and forty miles from here with nice scenery. No sewage lines.”  

“Oh, you should have said so. How does the Cape Majesto Lighthouse sound, Gil?” 

“Oh, I’ve never been there actually,” Delilah said. “That sounds great.” 

“Lighthouse it is,” I said. 

“I’m not charged enough to make it there and back,” the car said. “We’ll need to attend a charging station somewhere along the way, Gil.” 

“Judas,” I said. “I forgot to plug the car in last night.”

“I sent you three reminders on your palm, Gil.”  

“I know, I know, I just got distracted and went to bed early.” 

“You must be mistaken. I detected your movement in the driveway off and on from 9 pm to 3 am, Gil.”

“I was having trouble sleeping,” I said.    

“Are you ill, Gil? I’m detecting increased blood pressure in your face and ears, Gil.” 

“Stop talking. Friggin Fords.”

“Is your car okay?” Delilah asked. 

I shook my head. 

“Why are you shaking your head, Gil? I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal.” 

While we continued down the highway I kept trying to think of things to say, but everything sounded stupid in my head. One time the person operating the car had the excuse of having to concentrate on the road while operating the steering wheel, gas, brake, and maybe even clutch and shifter. Now I had to sort of sit half facing her, half facing the road, and talk about whatever I could think of. And I couldn’t think of anything. But I didn’t have to, because she started first.

“You know this is the first Sunday drive I’ve been on since…well, since Jamie died. Sorry, just realized this.” 

“No, that’s fine.”

“It’s nice though. It’s a beautiful day. It’s nice to be on the road.” 

“Yes.” 

“How long were you a janitor at the school? I can’t remember if you retired before or after me.” 

“Before, I think…yep, before.”

“For someone that…for the job you had I mean, it’s not everyone’s dream job —you always seemed happy. I kind of envied you for that. I didn’t mind teaching in the beginning, but after about ten years I had enough. I’m not sure I was really cut out for it. But it was too late to change to a new career then, what with my pension and everything. Did you get a pension too?” 

“Yes, I got a full pension.”

“I thought once I retired that I would finally get a chance to do all the things I loved, but I realized I didn’t really have the mind for it anymore. I told myself I was going to see the world, and we did see a few places, but…I don’t know, I just lost my drive for adventure I guess.”

I wanted to respond with something wise, but I didn’t say anything.  

“What’s wrong? You’re so talkative at EverythingStore, now you’re answering in two-word responses, or not at all. I’m sure you’re not shy. Although you used to be.”

 “No, just listening to you,” I said. “Concentrating on the road.” 

“Why are you concentrating on the road? The car does that.” 

“Old habit,” I lied. “Taking in the scenery too. It’s a windy day. Going to be some nice waves crashing in on that lighthouse.” 

“I have to ask you, Gil. Is it true that you’re going to get the shot?” 

“I am. If I can get the money in time.” 

“Why?” 

“The same reason why anyone would I guess.”

“But I thought you were a believer?” 

“Believer in what?” 

“God.” 

“I do believe in God. I always have. I’m a Christian like you.” 

“But don’t you want to go to heaven? Don’t you think one life is enough?”

“One life is enough. Whether I dies tomorrow or a thousand years from now, it’ll still only be one life.” 

“I guess so. But…I don’t know, I don’t think it’s natural. I think eighty to a hundred years is all we’re supposed to have.”

“It’s all in God's plan, that’s what I figure. If I’m supposed to have a hundred years, I’ll have a hundred years. If it’s a thousand it’s a thousand.”

“Speaking of plans, what are yours if you get it?” 

“I’m thinking about getting into the ministry. And I really want to walk the Jesus Trail in Jerusalem. It’s a trail that leads through the places where he preached the good news.” 

“Oh, cool. That sounds neat. I wouldn’t mind doing that myself. Why don’t you do it now?” 

“I know I wouldn’t be able to walk it in the shape I’m in now. But if I had my young legs back…” 

“Yeah, well, you know, I guess I can understand why some people might want a second chance. If they thought they were capable of more than they accomplished or maybe missed out on things.” 

“Yeah, I think I could have done better.” 

“Like I already said though, you seemed happy. Whenever I saw you at least.” 

“I guess I was. More or less. I didn’t have a bad life, once I got out of high school. Scrubbing toilets wasn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, but I didn’t mind it, I raised a family, and I got a kick out of the kids at school. I knew a lot of their names.”

“I know you did. You probably knew more of them than I did.”

“I don’t know about that.” 

“I’m not proud to admit this…but when I was younger, I looked down on people like you.”

“Nah, you seemed nice to me.” 

“I know I did. I might have smiled and said good morning, but did I ever really have a conversation with you in all the years we were at the school? It took a few embarrassing, or maybe humbling is the right word, experiences, to realize that maybe I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. You raised a family just the same way as I did, and now two of us are at the end of our lives —I am anyway— so what did the few extra dollars I made a year really matter? I had a bigger house. So what? I had a bigger car. So what?”

“Are you depressed?” 

She smiled. “No Gilbert. I’m trying to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“For being a snob. You’re a good man, and you deserved my respect.” 

“Okay,” I said. “Apology accepted.” I didn’t remember her treating me bad.    

“So getting back to what we were talking about first, what do you think you were missing if you feel you had a decent life?”

“I don’t know. I just wouldn’t mind having another go at it. See what I can do the second time around.”

The car took us to the restaurant Lighthouse Majesto, but luckily it was only five miles from the actual lighthouse where that senile car was supposed to take us. We decided we would come back there for lunch, and I drove to the lighthouse manually. 

“Hard to believe, but I’m so used to seeing cars drive themselves that it makes me nervous now to see anyone behind the wheel,” she said. 

“Yeah, I tries to drive at least once or twice a week so I don’t lose it.”

“You just ran a stop sign so I think you might need more practice.”  

“Did I really?” I said, looking back. I did. Oh well. 

“I guess it doesn’t hurt, but the new Toyotas don’t even have steering wheels, or gas, breaks, anything. It’s hard to believe how far things have come.”

“It is,” I said. “Want to get out and have a look around?” We were at the lighthouse, and the wind was driving the waves almost halfway up it’s white concrete walls. We both staggered when we got out, from the sheer force of it.  

“I wouldn’t want to be in that lighthouse,” I said. 

“I would,” Delilah said. “I wonder what it sounds like?” 

“You’d want to be in that lighthouse with them waves crashing up around it? Sure what if it all toppled over?” 

“Topple over? It’s been there for over a hundred years. You’re a real nervous Nelly, aren’t you, Gilbert Abrams? I think there’s a really cool beach down on the other side of the lighthouse. A friend of mine was telling me about it. Apparently there’s an old mine shaft down there. It goes straight into the cliff for like 300 feet or something.”

“I wouldn’t say you would get anywhere handy to it with the sea that’s on today.” 

“Oh, that’s the path right there isn’t it?” she said, pointing to a faded old sign.

I was saying we shouldn’t try to walk down it at our age, but she was already heading towards it as I was warning her. I wasn’t going to follow her, but I didn’t want to look like a wimp on my first…date? Whatever this was. 

It actually wasn’t as grown in as I thought, and it looked recently well-worn. 

“How far is it?” I asked. “I don’t have the same lungs I used to. I had a synthetic lung installed five years ago. The other one is real though.” 

“I know the feeling. I told my daughter that with all the mechanical, carbon fiber, and synthetic parts in my body now, I should have a bumper-to-bumper warranty.” She pushed a branch out of the way. “My friend told me it was no more than a ten-minute walk. We’ll take our time. No rush. If you want to take a break just say so.” She turned her head towards the beach. “You hear that?” 

“No,” I said, “but I can turn up my hearing implant. Lig, turn my hearing aid up to eight, and filter out background noise.” Then it was just the sounds of Delilah and I treading on the path, the birds in the trees, and about twenty people talking to each other somewhere up ahead. Down on the beach more than likely. It was mostly men, but a few women. I couldn’t really pick out what they were saying, but it sounded like a bunch of excited people getting ready for something important. It sounded like a lot of orders, gruff voices, and the occasional burst of laughter. I wondered if it could be a coyote getting ready for a new “shipment.” But that seemed awfully bold in the middle of the day.  

“Sounds like a crowd. Maybe we should turn back,” I said, nearly deafening myself with my own voice. I stuck my finger in my ear to turn down the implant. 

“Why?” she said. “We got a right to be on the beach as much as they do.”

“Maybe they don’t want us to know they’re there.” 

“It’s in the middle of the day?”

“Honestly, it might be coyotes.”

“Uh? Sounds like people’s voices to me.” 

“No, smugglers. Refugees.”

“Human traffickers? Are there so many around?” 

“I heard this is a bad place for it.”

“Really. Wow. Why don’t we go a little further? Maybe we’ll be able to see the beach before they can see us.” 

“From what I’ve heard, them coyotes are a dangerous bunch. Real hard cases. I wouldn’t mess with them. I’m going back.” 

“Well, you can go back,” she said. “I’m going to get a bit closer to have a look.” 

“Okay then,” I said and headed back towards the road. I felt like two cents leaving her, but I didn’t want to walk up on any hardcore coyotes. 

I sat in the car for about twenty minutes. I started to feel bad about leaving her alone, so I got out again and was just about to head to the path when she finally appeared.  

“Crowd down there?” I said. 

“About thirty people. They weren’t smugglers, they were the opposite. Border patrol. They had a half dozen boats, and they were getting everything ready.” 

“Oh. Did they see you?”

“See me? I was talking to them. Mind you, they didn’t seem too thrilled that I was there, but they showed me where the mine shaft was. It’s pretty freaky. You should have come down you nervous nelly.” 

“We’re probably going to be seeing more border patrol in the future,” I said when we were back in the car, almost more to myself than her. 

“It’s about time,” she said. “I’ve got nothing against Americans, but we can’t just let illegal immigrants stream over our borders. Let them apply and come here when they’re allowed.”

“The Republic isn’t letting anyone apply, and Canada isn’t accepting. They made an agreement.”

“Either way, human trafficking is despicable. What did you call them, coyotes? I hope they catch every coyote in Newfoundland, and throw the book at them. Absolute low-lifes. Making profit off of other people’s misery. How do they sleep at night?” 

“Scum of the earth,” I said. 

“So how did you get into this?” Box asked me when Melvin and I brought down supper for our guests. Sloppy Joes and water. Reverend Tom was there too. He and Melvin were the ones who actually made supper. I was still working on my cooking skills. “Don’t worry, there were no palms allowed on the trip, so this part isn’t being recorded.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Melvin said. “How else are you going to remember it?” 

Box took a notepad and pen out of his backpack and held it up sarcastically. Melvin just sniffed and shook his head.  “I’m not fucking answering any of your goddamn questions.”

“I got into it because I’m trying to raise money for something important,” I said. 

“What are you doing?” Melvin asked me. 

“I don’t think we have much choice,” I said. 

“You’re just going to let these fucking magas bully us around?” 

“They said they’d put it online.”

“Will you stop talking like that?” Melvin said, looking around for electronic devices. 

“I replaced everything down here with analog,” I said. “Digital free. Everything that runs on electricity down here was made at least 30 years ago. You don’t have to worry about Big G.”

“What about the light switches?” 

“I replaced all the boxes with the old style. There’s no voice activation down here for anything. It’s all old-school.”

“I didn’t even think you could get those anymore,” Box said. 

“You can’t. Dad’s a tightwad who don’t throw anything away.”

“Poke fun all you want, it came in handy didn’t it? Even when there’s no one here we can come down here now when we wants to have a conversation. I can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this before.”

“So it’s a virgin room,” Number 3 said. “Every home in America has a virgin room now. We all keep it a secret, but we all have them. Those of us that still have electricity anyway.”

“And yet you say you’re going back?” Reverend Tom asked. 

“We’re doing okay,” Box said, “but—"

“You’re doing better than okay for what you paid us,” Melvin said. “They’re probably in some gated community. They got nothing to worry about.” 

“I don’t know about that,” the Reverend said. “They could be sent to prison once they go back. Or a labour camp.”

“Prison? Why? We’re Americans.”

“You’re Americans who broke the law and smuggled yourself out of your country.”

“We’ll be fine.” 

The Reverend held up his hands. “If you say so. Either way, you shouldn’t have told us what you really are. This complicates things.”

“How?” Box said. “Just go through the same procedure you always do.” 

“Same procedure? If you are the celebrities you claim to be, then creating fake IDs seems kind of pointless. I really don’t know what we’re going to do with you.” 

“We are celebrities, but no one knows our faces. We deepfake that as well. I also deepfake my hands because they’re a bit small, you think?” He held them up. “I don’t like my voice either —it’s too high or something for a man. I make it deeper.”

“So it’s basically a cartoon,” Melvin said.

“No, it’s enhanced reality. We’re storytellers.” 

“So we don’t need fake IDs,” Box said. “We’ll just stay here until someone recognizes us and sends us back across the border. As we already said, we have no intention of staying in Finland anyway. Beautiful place, don’t get me wrong, but we’re not used to the cold.”

“What?” 

“Well, we grew up in a warmer—” 

“No. What do you mean, Finland?” 

“New Finland, Finland, what’s the diff?” 

“Do you actually think you’re in Finland right now?” He looked at Tom and thumbed towards the Americans. “They think they’re in Finland.”  

 “Well if it’s not, it certainly looks like Finland. It must be near if it’s called New Finland. Are we on the border of old Finland?”

“We’re thousands of miles away. Thousands.”

Truth be told, I know we’re not close to Finland, but I wouldn’t be able to point to it on a map. If Melvin was being honest, he probably wouldn’t be able to either.  

“So where are we then?” Box asked. 

“Newfoundland. New-Fin-Land. Canada. You’re in Canada. You know, that big-ass country on the border of yours? How do you escape to another country and not know what country it is?”

“Oh, okay. Well, we were told we were going to New Finland, so obviously we thought, you know, Finland. But anyway, like I was saying, we’re not used to the cold.”  

“It’s twenty degrees outside.” 

“Really? And I didn’t even pack any long-johns. Do you have any I could borrow?”

“Celsius,” Reverend Tom said. 

“Celsius?” Box said. “Is that Finnish for Fahrenheit?”

“Celsius is the system that every other free country in the world uses,” Melvin said, “but I guess America is really not that free anymore, is it. Unless you can call chaos free.” 

“Anyway,” Reverend Tom said, “twenty-six Celsius is around seventy-five Fahrenheit I think.”

“It still might be Finnish,” Box said. 

“Again, we are nowhere near Finland, but your answer is close, by accident, no doubt. It’s actually Swedish. Named after some astronomer I think. Let's find out.” He stared down at his pocket. “Judas…Judas? Oh right, Judas is upstairs.”

“You’re a holy-man and you named your palm Judas?” Number 3 asked.  

“I hate palms and I think they’re an addictive blight on society, but if we have them it must be part of God’s plan. Hence the name.”  

 “You can’t just galivant around town if you’re staying here,” I said to our guests. “I guess you could rent a hotel or something, but we can’t have the cops tying you in with this place.” 

“You’re goddamn right we can’t.” 

Someone came in upstairs. To barge in like that it had to be Park. Everyone went quiet. 

“Most likely my grandson,” I whispered, as we listened to the creaks in the floorboards above us, followed by Dan’s padding across the floor to meet him. 

“How old is the furry boi?” Box asked. 

“He’s the Methuselah of dogs,” Melvin said. “Much like his owner.” 

We heard Park at the door leading to the basement. It was locked, probably for the first time ever. 

“Does he know?” Box asked. 

“He doesn’t know who’s down here now, but he knows what we do.” 

“Well, you might as well let him come down.” 

“Why?” I said. “He doesn’t need to get involved in this. He was involved too much in the last one.” 

“Well, do us a favour,” Box said. “When you go back upstairs, casually bring up CBC to him and see what he says. If he never heard of us, God himself never heard of us.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I haven’t,” a disembodied voice from above said. But it wasn’t God, it was Park. He was staring down at us through the grated heat register. 

“You didn’t cover up the heat register?” Melvin said to me, shaking his head. “Every word we said was probably recorded.” 

“Not likely,” Park said. “I have to put my ear directly to the grate to hear you, and even then it’s difficult.” 

“Honestly though, you haven’t heard of the Cosmic Bipedal Caricatures? We did an exclusive with Long artist Li Joon.”

“Sorry, I’ve never played Long.” 

“Never played what long?” I asked. No one responded. 

“Did you really interview Li Joon though?” Park asked. “He’s a Michelangelo of verse design.”  

“Well, kind of. It was his secretary’s assistant, but she promised us the answers were accurate.” 

“Is it just verse interviews you do?” 

“Lord no, we mostly do small documentaries like we’re doing now.” 

“You’re doing a documentary?” Park said, then a grey snout and a long pink tongue shot out from nowhere and smeared across his mouth. “Dan! Ugh, disgusting! You were just licking your arse for God's sake,” he said, wiping his mouth. He put his face back to the grate. “Sorry can you say that again?” 

“Why don’t you just come down to the goddamn basement instead of mumbling through that air register?” Melvin shouted up at him. 

“You have the door locked,” Park said. 

“Unlock the door, Dad. He’s a minor and he hasn’t done anything except witness. He’s got nothing to worry about.” 

I think Box and Number 3 still expected Park to recognize them when he came downstairs, and maybe even ask for an autograph, but he didn’t have a sweet clue who they were. Melvin got angry again when they explained they were doing a documentary, almost as if he was hearing it for the first time. 

“This is impossible,” Box said. “Go get a palm and bring it down. We won't talk about anything dangerous. I just want to show you guys our v-cast.” 

“We believe you,” Reverend Tom said. “I guess it just hasn’t caught on around here yet.” 

“I guess that’s possible,” Number 3 said. “But we’re huge in North Korea.”

“Well, everything is huge in that capitalist wasteland.” 

“Yeah, those NK’s sure know how to party.” 

Park brought down his palm and asked it to show him our guest’s v-cast. Obviously it was also available in 2D and audio only, so Park skimmed through a few. It looked a bit weird, with parts that were animated, and parts that were real, but it didn’t seem too bad.

“Says here you’re only getting around 50,000 views an episode,” Park said.   

“Yeah, it slowed down a bit lately,” Box said. “Tell your friends at school about it, although I’m sure a lot of them already know.”

“Do not. Tell your friends. At school,” Melvin said through clenched teeth. 

“We still haven’t figured out what we’re going to do about your IDs,” Reverend Tom said. “How can we give you fake identities knowing that you’re going to turn yourself into the police? I just can’t set it up. We hire outside contractors to set people up, and they take this very serious. I don’t think you guys really thought this through.”

“Again,” Box said. “We paid you the money for a service, and now you’re saying you’re only going to give us half of said service.”

“But it was under false pretenses. You lied to us in that you pretended to be American refugees.” 

“We’re American and we’re here. So how are we not American refugees?”

“But you want to go back,” Melvin said. “You’re not refugees, you’re fuckin tourists.” 

“I’m sorry,” the Reverend said. “You could blow this whole operation and put us all in prison. We can’t have that.” 

Number 3 looked at me. “Does the good Reverend know about Pepe?” 

“Pepe?” Tom asked.

“They recorded everything with a stalking-drone,” Melvin said. 

“Good Lord,” he said, holding his head. “Where is it now?” 

“Still hiding away in the woods somewhere.”

“And it’ll send video straight to social media if you do anything to us,” Box said. 

“No one is hurting anyone around here,” Reverend Tom said. “I’m a man of God.” He went to the sink then for a glass of water and came back taking tiny sips, like a man sipping a stiff drink. “What if we give you your new IDs, but when you’re ready to go home, we sneak you back over the border again? The same way you came, by boat.” 

“What makes you think you could do that?” Melvin said. 

“Just trust me. I’ll make arrangements.”

“Yeah, that could work,” Box said. 

“It would also be a lot safer for you. You really don’t know how your government is going to react if you try to go back by getting arrested.”

“You’re right.”

“But don’t you feel like you wasted a lot of money?” I said. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here? There’s no war. You’ll have a new life. Why not stay?”

“Uh because our families and everyone we know and care about is in America?” Box said.

“Good point,” I said, feeling dumb again.

“How long do you plan on staying?” the Reverend asked. 

“As long as it takes to get the doc done. We want to get involved in the local American community and get to know some immigrants in the system, legal and illegal.” 

“Get involved? How long are you two planning on staying?” Melvin asked. 

“Around a year or so,” Box said. 

“A year!” the Reverend Tom said. “We thought by the way you were talking that you were leaving next week.” 

“Sure the war could be over in a year,” I said. Everyone stared at me. “Probably not though,” I mumbled.

“For the love of God don’t blow anyone’s cover. They have a new beginning now. Don’t ruin their lives just to make a documentary.”

“We have no intention of that sir,” Number 3 said.

“Okay. I guess I’ll get things rolling with the I.Ds. Obviously you can’t leave this apartment in the meantime.” 

 “When can we get palms?” Box asked. 

“When you have Canadian identities to buy them with. Which usually takes a week or so.” 

“A week or so?” Box said. “I’m going to go crazy down here and it’s only been a day. We don’t even have a monitor.” 

“We can get you books if you like to read,” I said. “Board games. Cards. That’s about it I guess.”

“Good Lord, Gil, that’s very generous, but I wouldn’t want you to loan me your books.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid I would damage them.” 

“They’re used. I don’t care.” 

“But analog books cost a fortune.” 

“Not around here they don’t.”

“Really? I’ve got my Tom Clancy collection locked in a safe back home.”

“Woah, listen to this highbrow,” Park said. “I’d put those in a bank vault.” 

After, the Reverend, Melvin, and I went for a walktalk. Melvin said, “Do you guys actually trust those morons?” 

“What choice do we have?” the Reverend said. 

“If I could get my hands on that drone…” 

“That’s not going to happen. But I’m glad they’re staying here a while. That gives me more time to figure out a plan for when they decide to go back.”

“There’s something else you both need to know,” I said. “The border patrol is ramping up. I went for a drive today out to Majesto Lighthouse and Delilah saw dozens of them down in the beach getting ready. We’re going to have to be a lot more careful.” 

“They do that every once in a while. Nothing to be too worried about.” 

“I wouldn’t ignore it though,” Melvin said. 

“Of course not.” 

“We made a lot of money off this last trip,” I said. “Maybe we should just call it quits. Is it really worth it?” 

Somewhere in the distance, what sounded like three dogs, started howling. We stared at each other in silence.