Clarence

Clarence

"They can't know,"

Norman Oakland

The warmth is familiar.  It feels warm like home, the caress of the blanket is home. And people are here, they speak in my home.  The door shuts and opens, it can’t be my door.  My door is at my house and I am not there.  Since I am me then where am I?  At that thought Clarence Kalini opened his eyes.  He saw the large black door for only a second and then it disappeared behind a wall as it closed.  There was a man talking to a woman across from that.  More than ten people filled the large room.  He recognized some of the heads that floated above the short plastic cubicles.  There was Jerry Coarse who commanded the most successful unit within the Eastern Bureau of Affairs and was now second in command there.  His shrewd tactics and morning announcements had a light-hearted infamy to them.  Coarse would narrate a short anecdote every morning to the officers under him.   The stories were bland and often unplanned.  It was unclear when he was making one up though since all of them were gilded with long pauses and warm-up phrases like, “so you can look at it like this,” or, “if you put it this way.”  Clarence had been subject to a number of the stories when he was at his undergraduate Alma mater, Marquette. 

The school and the city it lay in the heart of, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, had seemed to beckon Clarence.  But the reasons that Coarse had gone to Marquette as a temporary professor of Corrections and Law Studies was as unclear as his anecdotes.  He was not Catholic, wealthy, from a suburb of Chicago, or desperate for a job.  On top of that, unlike Clarence, Coarse was not from the Mid-West having been born and raised in Newtopia. Upon returning to Newtopia he was offered jobs at any number of possitions at well established Newtopian Universities. Right now though, his Newtopian roots had shown as he looked to be in the middle of another story with some young Newtopian Police officers.  His thinning black hair sat on a head far higher than the others. 

The head next to Coarse’s was unfamiliar to Clarence.  It was a woman with dark hair, bright stud earrings, and a label on the back that read 'FBI'.  Next to her was  a man with short black hair and long sideburns that rode down to his goatee.  That, Clarence recognized, was Ralf Knowen.  The man was light-hearted with friends and colleagues.  Something about that made him seem weak to Clarence.  He depends on people too much.   He was rough around the edges with other things.  When he worked as local police for Banks, Newtopia with Clarence he had been very fierce.  Those recently arrested were shouted, not read, their rights.  It wasn’t until he made it to the RNRD, Regulating National Resources Department, that he cleaned up his language and people skills.  They have people from the RNRD, EBA, and America, the FBI. What is going on? Clarence thought as he stood from the bench he had been sleeping on.

Clarence saw Mary, who had driven down to Sam’s Town with him.  She was nodding and following along with Coarse’s story.  He nodded to Ralf as he approached the circle and tugged at Mary’s sleeve to pull her aside.  “The EBA is taking the lead and has been for a month or at least that’s what Coarse says.” Mary began to update him without missing a beat in a low tone, “The RNRD is assisting since I guess they’re sweeping the surrounding forest.  We’re just fat on the bone I guess; Jenny told us just to help out for now. It’s paper work they need done and leg work too.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Clarence said.

“They need people basically. Sam’s Town’s police force is too tiny to do what needs to be done. But that’s why we’re here.” She said looking over at the circle indicating that ‘we’ now included Coarse, Ralf’s, and the FBI's departments as well.

“That’s why we’re here,” Clarence repeated. “But all of this for a kidnapping?”

“No, see that’s the thing.  Coarse thinks it’s bigger than that but none of his bosses are telling him anything but he’s all fired up about it.” Clarence looked over at Coarse.  If Coarse had been showing any different emotion beside bland consistency he couldn’t read it.

“Coarse?... Is ‘all fired up?  He’s not really one to get fired up.” Clarence said.

“Are you serious?  Have you heard any of his stories?”  She grinned knowingly. “But that’s the thing, see he’s not a people person. All of the neighbors have shut down Sam’s Town PD and agents of the EBA.  I think that’s why they need us.  All of these cop snobs suck at dealing with old country town folk.”

“Well let me get some coffee and we can go knock on some doors.” Clarence said, still too groggy to put a plan together.  But when Mary gave him a look that suggested that was not the best idea he said, “Or maybe we should stick around and find out what’s going on.”

“I think so too.” Mary said calmly.  “I mean we don’t even know why the Americans are here either, that’s just weird.  Let’s let them make the first move."

You’ve got to make the first move, echoed in Clarence’s head.  That had been the second to last thing Norman Oakland had commanded him to do before giving him the large manila dossier weeks earlier.  “This isn’t just about World Worshippers but they are somehow involved so you might as well get to know more about them.”  The whole folder had contained information on past and suspected present Worshipers.  Was Dell, his old contact, now one of the Worshipers?  The Worshipers had become a less popular religion in Newtopia in the recent years and had begun arming themselves. For what and when? Clarence thought then looked up at the FBI agents.  They were standing just outside of the circle listening to Coarse’s story.  The final thing Norman had told him was, “They can’t know.” Who is they? Why me? Why now? Is Dell in Danger? Who is Hope? When will I see my kids again? Where is the damn coffee it’s way too early for all of this!!