“Pleased to meet you Turbo. I’m Phillip Washington.”
“And I'm Carrie Lockwood.”
“So let me get this straight, Phillip. Your grandfather knew my uncle?”
“Yes Sir. He worked at The New Yorker.”
Intrigued but still cautious, Turbo asked, “How do you know this?”
Phillip handed him the notes for Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide. “Your uncle gave my grandfather copies of his notes for safe keeping.”
Turbo examined the document. “It’s my uncle’s handwriting and he signed it Blasplatna Struja. That means “free electricity.”
“We know,” they said together.
“You speak Serbian?”
“No, we had it translated,” Carrie said.
“My uncle found a way to provide free electricity to everyone, but Edison, Westinghouse, and Morgan wouldn’t allow it.”
“Do you know what this concept is?”
“No, I’ve never seen this before. It’s not a schematic, not electrical. Do you have any other notes?”
Phillip hesitated. “I did.”
“What do you mean? Did?”
“My grandmother threw them away a few days ago.”
“What? How many?”
“Hundreds of them, thousands of pages.” Phillip explained that the concepts were stored inside Charles Chips cans for years and his grandmother threw them away the other day.
“But if the documents are in the chip cans, they should still be okay,” Carrie said.
“Yeah, but where?” Phillip asked.
“They’re in some landfill.” Turbo glanced upstairs. Could Maria hear them? He hoped not.
“Then I suggest we find that landfill.” Phillip got up off the sofa. “They’re big yellow cans, they can’t be that hard to find.”
“Will you come with us, Turbo?” Carrie asked.
Turbo hesitated. He glanced upstairs again. “Yeah, I’ll be right there, let me get my shirt and shoes.”
Phillip and Carrie waited outside.
Turbo tiptoed upstairs to see if Maria was awake. The television was on mute, she undoubtedly heard everything. “Just go, William. It’s okay. Just go.”
The fact that she called him William told him that it wasn’t okay. “I love you, Maria. I’ll have this all sorted out by morning.”
Maria pressed the remote and the room went dark.
CHAPTER 12
Turbo got in the car and called Cosmo right away. “Cosmo, I need you to find out what landfill they take our garbage to.”
Carrie and Phillip heard Cosmo screaming through the phone. “Right now? It’s after midnight, how the hell am I gonna find that out at this time of night?”
“I don’t care how you do it. Call the mayor if you have to.”
“Tell him to Google it.” Phillip suggested.
“Google---what's Google?” Turbo didn't own a computer. “Wait a minute. Cosmo says he knows about Google, Oprah interviewed one of the founders once, but he doesn’t have a computer.”
“Too bad we don't have Rudy’s iPhone,” Carrie said.
“Just hop on the interstate and follow the first garbage truck we see.” Phillip’s idea was genius.
“That’s a great idea, never mind Cosmo, go back to sleep." Turbo hung up. “So, Phillip, tell me about your grandfather.”
“Well, he died before I was born. In fact, he died a few days after your uncle did. He was hit by a car; it was a hit and run. They ruled it an accident, but I’m starting to think he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Turbo and Carrie said together.
“Why’s that?” Turbo asked.
“My grandmother told me that the O.S.S. questioned my grandfather about your uncle for two days. Two days after that, he’s hit by a car and killed. It just seems suspicious. I don’t understand why they didn’t search the house for the papers?”
“They didn’t know they existed.” Turbo spoke with confidence. “The government confiscated most of my uncle’s work when he died. And what they didn’t get my communist cousin Sava did.”
“Your cousin's a communist?” Carrie asked.
“Well, he’s my second cousin, but yes, he belongs to the Yugoslavian Communist Party.”
“Hey, there’s a garbage truck.” Carrie changed lanes and got behind the truck.
They followed the truck for about ten miles until the driver pulled into a Denny’s restaurant. Phillip stopped the driver before he entered the restaurant. “Excuse me, Sir, where are you gonna dump that garbage?”
The driver wasn’t amused. “None of your damn business, that’s where.”
Phillip apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your business.”
Turbo stepped up to help. “Hey, Sal.” The driver's name was monogrammed above his shirt pocket. “I bet you’re hungry. Here’s ten dollars, have a Grand Slam on me, okay?” Turbo got the driver’s attention. “I just need a tiny little favor first.”
The driver stuffed the bill in his pocket. “You ain't dumping any dead bodies in my truck.”
“No, Sal, it's nothing like that. I have a problem, my niece lives over in Brooklyn; that’s her over there in the car."
Carrie smiled and waved.
"Well, she threw her engagement ring in the trash by accident. And we need to find it before her fiancé finds out. All I need to know is where the landfill is?”
“That’s all you want, really?”
Turbo nodded.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
Phillip threw his hands in the air. “They take it all over to Jersey, near Trenton.”
“Thanks, Sal. Enjoy your Grand Slam.” Turbo and Phillip got back in the car. “We're headed to Trenton.”
“Trenton?” Carrie stuttered. “They take our garbage to Jersey?”
“How far to Trenton?” Phillip asked.
“Not sure, a couple hours, I guess” Carrie yawned. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”
“We won’t,” Phillip and Turbo said together.
***
The highway from Newark to Trenton had recently been paved and the white lines had not been painted, yet. It blended into the night. Pitch dark, other than a few hundred feet lit up by headlights. The endless countryside, the occasional abandoned factory, and even the stars seemed dim. With no moon to be found.
The landfill emerged from the darkness. A city within itself, hundreds of lights illuminated an eerie methane haze above it. Phillip had envisioned a ten-foot-high fence with a pack of Rottweiler on the loose. There was no need. The landfill operated twenty-four-hours a day. Garbage trucks lined the roads to the various drop off sites.
Carrie turned off the highway and proceeded toward the main entrance. Turbo told her to stop. “They’re not gonna just wave us through the gate and let us rummage through their garbage. We need a plan.”
“Maybe we should ask one of these drivers,” Phillip said.
“Good idea.” Turbo pointed to a truck parked off the roadway. “Pull up behind it.”
Phillip opened his door, but Carrie stopped him. “Maybe Turbo should speak to this one. He has better luck with these guys.”
Turbo got out. “It’ll just take a minute.”
A quick glance at the monogram let Turbo know he would be dealing with another Sal. He thought it must be a popular name for sanitation workers. “Hey, Sal, how’s it going?”
“Not too good, my truck’s running hot, do I know you?”
“No, but I need your help.”
“What’s wrong, Mister, your car break down?”
“No, my car’s fine. But let’s say, hypothetically, that I needed to get inside the landfill to find something thrown away by mistake?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Pull around to the back gate, go to the dispatch office and tell Mario I said to help you. You tell him Sal said to help you.”
“Just Sal? Don’t I need your last name? I mean there seems to be a lot of guys named Sal around here.”
“You
don’t need my last name. Just tell him Sal sent you.”
***
The dispatch office was dark. Turbo pulled on the door, but it was locked.
“Can I help you?” A young man with long hair and a goatee walked up and nudged Turbo aside. He unlocked the door and they went inside.
“I’m looking for Mario, Sal sent me.”
“My dad sent you? What for?”
“We need to find something thrown away by mistake.”
“You’re kidding, right?” The young man choked back a laugh.
Turbo explained the situation. The truth, not the white lie he told the first Sal back at the Denny’s. “They’re pretty big canisters; not like a needle in a haystack.”
“There’s a lot of garbage out there.” Mario said. “But if my dad said to help, then I’m gonna help. I'll need the address and the date they were picked up.”
“Hold on a minute.” Turbo called Phillip and Carrie inside. “Mario, meet my friends, Phillip and Carrie.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Mario stood ready at his computer.
“Phillip, we need your address and the date they were thrown away.”
“235 W. 14 Street, they picked them up Monday.”
Mario entered the information into the computer. “Okay, I can narrow it down to two sectors. The garbage should have arrived Wednesday when we dumped into sectors G-4 and G-5.”
“Great, let's go,” Phillip made his way to the door.
“It’s not that simple, you can’t just prance around out there.”
“But you can help us, right?” Carrie asked.
“Yes, Miss, follow me.”
Mario led them to a backroom. “Put on a jumpsuit and boots. And don’t forget gloves, hardhats, and respirator masks, you’re going to need them. I’ll drive you to the sectors when you’re ready.
The drive to sector G-4 took a few minutes. “If anyone questions you, tell them you’re with the Environmental Protection Agency. You tell them, Miss. They’ll believe you.”
Turbo and Phillip didn’t say a word.
“You might want to put your masks on now; we’re almost there.”
“But you don’t have a mask.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it. Besides, I’m not staying.” Mario pointed out the boundaries. “G-4 starts here along this ridge and G-5 starts on the other side of the big hill. It ends at the fence before the drainage pond. Take this walkie-talkie and call me when you’re ready to be picked up.”
Turbo and Phillip got right to it. Carrie hesitated before she stepped off the path into the waste. Then she stomped her way through the waste to catch up with the boys. “Gross, I can't believe I'm doing this.”
Phillip told her to wait at the top of the hill. They would find the cans without her.
Not a smart thing to say. He had obviously awakened Carrie’s competitive spirit, because she declined the offer right away. “I bet I’ll find them before you do.”
“You’re on.” Phillip headed in one direction and Carrie headed in the other. Turbo just smiled and drifted over toward the hill. About twenty minutes had passed before Turbo noticed that Carrie decided to try her luck in sector G-5. She had tromped to the far end of the sector, near the fence, and was backtracking toward the hill. Turbo headed in her direction.
They fumbled through garbage for hours, crisscrossing the sectors.
Carrie had sat down to rest on a rusty two-drawer filing cabinet that somehow landed upright in the heap. Turbo was nearby and Phillip approached from the east. “What if Mario screwed up?” he called out to them. “What if they were dumped into another sector?”
“Don’t even think that.” Carrie gasped.
“It’s almost daylight, maybe we should come back tonight,” Turbo suggested.
“Good idea,” Carrie jumped up from her seat. They looked at Phillip.
“Let’s make one more pass over to the front of this sector and then I’ll call Mario to pick us up.”
They spread out about three feet apart and plodded through the trash. About halfway there, Phillip lost his balance and fell.
“Are you okay?” Carrie rushed over to him.
Turbo helped him up. “You trip?’
“Yeah, I stepped on something.” He reached down through a pile of cardboard and newspaper and pulled up a “Charles Chips” canister.
Carrie pulled off her respirator and let out a yelp. “Oh my God.” She quickly put the respirator back on.
Phillip stood there with the canister in his hands.
Turbo cleared away the cardboard and other trash nearby. He also found a canister. “How many canisters did your grandmother throw away?”
“Three.”
“Well, at least we have two.” Turbo shook the canister. “It's awful light, you sure the notes are in here?”
“Yeah, mine’s light, too.” Phillip opened his container. It was empty. “Open yours.”
Turbo’s container was empty, too. All he could think about was Maria. He had done it again. His marriage was over.
Carrie searched for the third container.
“Carrie, forget it,” Phillip said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“No, wait; the third canister might still have the notes.”
“You don’t know my grandmother. She didn’t want me messing with those concepts, this way she insured I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay, Phillip.” Turbo knew how to handle such a setback, more than ever when they involved his uncle.
***
Turbo asked Carrie to drop him off at his flat. Along the way, they drove by his shop. “If you need to contact me, please come to the shop. I doubt I’ll be allowed back in my house anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry we got you involved in this,” Carrie turned onto his street.
“Yeah, me too,” Phillip said. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing like my grandmother wanted.”
“I doubt my wife would believe me.” Turbo opened the car door to get out. Carrie’s cell phone rang. He could see that the caller I.D. displayed “Brad Pitt.” She answered it. “Hey, Rudy.”
Phillip perked up at once and told Turbo to wait.
As usual, Carrie talked fast, but didn’t say much. “. . . uh huh, yes I understand . . . yes . . . uh huh . . . oh my God, I knew it . . . yes, yes, okay . . .”
Turbo wanted to ask a question, but Phillip stopped him. “Just give her a minute, she’ll fizzle out soon, it'll be worth the wait.”
“. . . uh huh . . . yes, we found him . . . that’s awesome . . . uh huh . . . yes . . . Rudy that’s wonderful, call me as soon as you know.” Carrie hung up the phone.
“What the hell---
“Let her catch her breath, first." Phillip warned. "But get ready; you don’t want to miss anything.”
“Very funny, Phillip.” Carrie took a deep breath. “Okay, that was Rudy, and he got a new iPhone, and yes, he registered it to Brad Pitt just like he said he would. Anyway, he called a buddy of his---oh, shit, he told me not to say buddy, anyway he called a friend of his at the agency that told him that just about everything “Tesla” was classified level four or higher. Unfortunately, he only has access to level three, but don’t worry, he’s working on getting clearance, at least for level four and five, anything higher than that would be really hard, then he asked if we had found Turbo and I told him we did.”
“Not yet, almost.” Phillip had his finger to his lip.
“Oh, he also said that Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide is serious stuff. Level Ten.”
“Okay, now.” Phillip lowered his hand.
“Level ten. He can’t even get to level four, how the hell is he gonna get to level ten?” Turbo let it all out.
“Rudy will figure it out.” Carrie assured them. “Right now, I think we all need to get some sleep.”
Phillip agreed. “Goodnight, Turbo. We’ll be in touch.”
Turbo thanked them both.
***
Too tired to worry
if his grandmother saw Carrie drop him off, Phillip told her to pull up front. “Thanks for driving me all over the world.”
“Don’t mention it. We’re in this together. Get some rest. I’ll call you later.”
Phillip waved as she drove away. He fumbled with his keys and half-wished his grandmother would open the door. When he entered through the kitchen, his grandmother was laying face down on the kitchen table. A coffee cup in her hand.
Phillip nudged her. “Grandma, I’m home.”
She didn’t respond.
He tried again, a little harder. “Grandma, I’m home.” Phillip lifted her head up from the table and then gently put it back down. He sat next to her, released the coffee cup from her hand, and bawled.
CHAPTER 13
Turbo entered his repair shop and screamed at Cosmo. “Why can’t you pull the damn string?” He had already walked over to the sign before he noticed that Cosmo already had customers. Two men wore dark suits, one man thin, and the other man stocky.
The stocky man spoke first. “Are you William Trbojevic?”
“Who wants to know?”
The thinner man showed credentials. “Agent Lawson, F.B.I.” He flashed his badge quickly, as if it was a bother, a waste of time. “This is my partner, Agent Arnold.”
“We need to ask you a few questions about Alex Gaye.”
“Who?”
“The kid with the shortwave.” Cosmo came from behind the counter. “You remember. He watched G.H. with us.”
“What's G.H.?” Agent Arnold asked.
“General Hospital.”
“Yeah, I remember, nice kid, I fixed his radio.” Turbo took off his coat and went behind the counter. “What about him?”
“Do you have a work order or a repair record? Something with an address or phone number?”
“No, it was only a transistor, I didn’t charge him.”
“Mr. Trbojevic, you expect me to believe that you fixed his equipment and didn’t charge him.” Agent Arnold took notes.
“It was only a transistor, he waited a long time.”
“Yeah, Sonny’s son got shot,” Cosmo added.
Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel Page 6