{"id":2549,"date":"2023-09-16T13:03:41","date_gmt":"2023-09-16T20:03:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2549"},"modified":"2023-09-16T13:03:41","modified_gmt":"2023-09-16T20:03:41","slug":"the-second-device","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/16\/the-second-device\/","title":{"rendered":"The Second Device"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\"><em>prompt: Include a scene in your story in which a character&#8217;s body language conveys their hidden emotions.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\">available at <a href=\"https:\/\/blog.reedsy.com\/short-story\/v9sq70\/\">Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director pushed a button on his desk and the double door to his office swung in. The woman who stood outside the door made no move to enter. \u201cAgent Adele Stevens? You may enter,\u201d the Director said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele walked into the office and stopped in the middle of the office. Behind her, the doors swung shut on silent hinges, closing with a soft click as the latch engaged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDo take a seat, Ms. Stevens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, Director.\u201d Adele pulled one of the two chairs in front of his desk back a few inches and sat, her back straight, feet together on the floor. She kept her head up, her eyes fixed on the Director\u2019s ever-present smirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou can relax, if you like, Ms. Stevens. This is not a formal inquiry. Think of it more as an informal chat between two citizens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cA chat about what?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOh, just this and that,\u201d the Director waved a dismissive hand. \u201cNothing to be concerned about.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele crossed her arms. \u201cIn that case, may I be excused, Director?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNonsense, you just got here.\u201d He leaned forward, his hands flat on his desk. \u201cHow was your weekend, Ms. Stevens?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIt was fine,\u201d she said, her feet moving back under her chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cJust fine, huh? I thought you\u2019d have more to say than that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her gaze moved to his hands, pressing against the top of his desk. \u201cIt was fine,\u201d she said again, \u201cwhat do you want to know\u2026Director?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director\u2019s hands pressed against the desk hard enough that his knuckles turned pale. His smirk grew. \u201cMs. Stevens, I am genuinely interested in your weekend. Why don\u2019t you tell me <em>all<\/em> about it? Starting from the moment you woke up on Saturday morning until you were brought here this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI woke up, took a shower, got dressed, went to the grocery store\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He raised his hands and slammed them down on the desk as he yelled, \u201c<em>NO<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele jumped in her seat, scooting the chair back another inch. Her arms tight around her chest, she raised her head to look at the Director\u2019s flaring nostrils. \u201cYou wanted it all\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou woke up. Where? Were you alone? Who else was there?\u201d The Director took a deep breath and laid his hands back on the desk. \u201cI want details, Ms. Stevens. How am I supposed to understand your weekend without them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele took a deep breath and relaxed her hands where they were gripping her shirt at her ribs. \u201cI woke up alone, at home. I live alone and there was no one else there\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMs. Stevens,\u201d the Director said, snapping his fingers and pointing up. \u201cMy eyes are up here, and you need to stop lying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know what you want from me.\u201d Her crossed ankles had migrated to the point that they couldn\u2019t any further under the chair. Her palms were leaving sweat stains on the sides of her shirt, below the growing sweat stains from her armpits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMs. Stevens, I want you to think of me as a friend. You can tell me anything\u2026as long as it\u2019s the truth. That\u2019s all I want from you. The truth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele forced a deep breath, raised her head, chin out. She pulled her feet out from under her and planted them firmly in front of the chair. Her arms stayed crossed. \u201cIf I tell you the truth and you don\u2019t like it, then what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhatever do you mean, Ms. Stevens?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIf you were a friend, you\u2019d know the truth and not care either way.\u201d Her eyes locked onto his. \u201cThe truth is, you\u2019re not my friend. The only friend you have is yourself. You see the rest of us as useful tools or in the way and disposable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMy, my, Ms. Stevens. Please, tell me how you really feel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cEveryone hates you. You\u2019re not obeyed out of loyalty, but out of fear.\u201d She straightened her back, rose to her feet, and dropped her hands to the side. Her breath quickened. \u201cNo one gets called to the Director\u2019s office for just a chat. I expect that at the end of this I will be disappeared. The truth is, I\u2019m done being afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOh, Ms. Stevens,\u201d the Director said in a sing-song voice, \u201cI have something you want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThere is nothing you could offer\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director cut her off by waving the photo of a woman in a cell, cuffed to the bars, bruises and cuts visible on her bare arms, legs, and face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele sat down, her breathing quick. Her fists curled at her sides. \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll talk. Just let her go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWell, that would depend on what you have to say, Ms. Stevens. I am <em>so<\/em> very interested in what you have to say that is worth Ms. Garcia\u2019s freedom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, I was at her place Saturday morning. She had nothing to do with it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNothing to do with what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou <em>know<\/em> what. Senior Agent Merley was the one that gave <em>her<\/em> the package instead of me.\u201d Her fingernails dug into her palms as her fists tightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMr. Merley knew where to find you, then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes. He\u2019s known for months.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cVery well. Please, continue.\u201d The Director waved the photo again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHe also knew that Maria wouldn\u2019t want to trouble me for something so minor as dropping off a package, especially if he told her it wasn\u2019t that important.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNow we\u2019re getting somewhere. Not that you\u2019ve convinced me, but carry on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMaria left a note that she dropped a package that Merley wanted me to deliver on her way to the store.\u201d Adele\u2019s gaze bored into the dead eyes of the Director. \u201cI woke up alone, at Maria\u2019s. I saw the note and ran for the barracks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director nodded and motioned for her to continue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhen I saw the package in the guard shack, I knew that Merley was trying to distance himself.\u201d Her mouth set tight. \u201cI told him to leave her out of this. He\u2019s too much like you, seeing everyone else as a tool or a problem.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMr. Merley is well-known to me, Ms. Stevens. Please, refrain from assigning motive to the actions of others, and stick to your own story.\u201d His smirk returned to its normal ill-humored state. \u201cYou saw the package at the guard shack, and then what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI looked for Maria at the store she usually shops at. She wasn\u2019t there. I sent her a text to contact me.\u201d Adele kept her gaze steady. \u201cWhen she didn\u2019t answer I knew something was wrong. That\u2019s when I went to Merley.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat time was that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou already know. I met with Merley in the cafeteria at 12:30. We had words, and he reprimanded me in front of everyone, until you stopped him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAh, yes. You caused quite a scene.\u201d The Director tented his fingers. \u201cI should thank you. If I hadn\u2019t been drawn to your little drama, I might have been in the meeting where I was meant to be, and where the package that Ms. Garcia delivered did its damage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His eyes narrowed. \u201cToo much damage. I lost three deputies and a secretary. I was planning on getting rid of two of the deputies anyway, but the third was starting to grow on me. The secretary happened to be my favorite, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cShe didn\u2019t know what it was. Please, Maria had <em>nothing<\/em> to do with this.\u201d Her fists relaxed, her shoulders dropped, she bent forward, her back bowed. \u201cPlease. I don\u2019t care if Merley sacrifices me to save his own skin. I\u2019ll take all the blame, but you have to let Maria go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director leaned back. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t worry about Mr. Merley. We\u2019d been following him for a while. If not, we wouldn\u2019t have known where you were Saturday morning. Besides, he talked enough for all three of you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAll three?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Director\u2019s smirk grew. \u201cAll three. Mr. Merley, Ms. Garcia \u2014 or as he called her, \u2018the brown chick\u2019 \u2014 and yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cPlease, he\u2019s lying. She had nothing to with any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThe only thing he wouldn\u2019t tell me before he died was where the other device is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Adele sat back up. \u201cI know, and I\u2019ll tell you\u2026<em>after<\/em> you release Maria.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll play your game for now, Ms. Stevens. If you break your word, however, we <em>will<\/em> recapture Ms. Garcia, and her death will be long and painful.\u201d He placed his hands flat on the desk and leaned forward. \u201cAnd after you\u2019ve witnessed that, yours will be three times worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI won\u2019t, Director.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He pushed a button on his desk. \u201cConnect me to holding unit one,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, Director,\u201d came the voice over the speaker. It was followed by a few clicks, then another voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHolding one, Chief Garber speaking, Director.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cJust the person I wanted to talk to. Release Ms. Garcia. Ensure her injuries are properly treated and she is safely escorted home. She is no longer of interest in the case.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, Director. She\u2019ll be home within the hour.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He pushed the button that ended the call. \u201cNow, Ms. Stevens. You were saying?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThe second device isn\u2019t <em>exactly<\/em> a device, but it is close. Here\u2019s the truth.\u201d Adele bolted upright, ripped open her shirt, unzipped the belt around her waist and flung handfuls of fine powder into the recirculating air of the Director\u2019s office.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>prompt: Include a scene in your story in which a character&#8217;s body language conveys their hidden emotions. available at Reedsy The Director pushed a button on his desk and the double door to his office &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[233,210,209],"class_list":["post-2549","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-dystopian","tag-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-F7","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2549"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2550,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549\/revisions\/2550"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2549"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2549"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2549"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}