Inside Traitors

by David Allen

  Jack could not believe his good fortune. He was enjoying his newfound wealth from his monthly paycheck to the fullest. The monthly check was more than he had ever dreamed to earn on his own. And there were still more petitions to be filed.

  As time went on, Steve would often be left alone to fend for himself for days on end. This usually followed the festivities surrounding the arrival of the monthly windfall. Jack spent the trust fund money on his friends, women and frequent visits to the local horse track. As each month end would approach, there was usually little money left for the basic necessities of life.

  Steve Peterson, the bright, outgoing and happy child was now withdrawn, silent and depressed. The memories of his earlier life grew to be unbearably painful. In defense, his mind locked them away in a mental vault. Memories of his past life were kept hidden far away from his current existence. If he did not remember his past then it couldn’t hurt him.

  Steve’s only solace was found in the many books of fiction he would get from the school library. In his reading he could catch brief glimpses of his old world without having to experience the pain of his memories. Through his reading he could escape from his miserable daily existence. His reading provided a way for him to survive in his new world.

  Days became weeks, weeks became months and months turned into years. Steve Peterson spent most of the time locked in his cramped room creating a world of fantasy in his mind through his reading. It was an imaginary world surrounded by silence and loneliness. In time, it became the only world he knew.

  Chapter 8 - Hope

  January turned into February. February turned into March. Steve Peterson became twelve years old. The date of Steve’s birth came and went without a birthday celebration and without birthday presents. The date came and went without a birthday cake and without a single birthday card. The date of Steve’s birth came and went without the slightest acknowledgment. Even Steve did not realize the event had taken place and that he was now another year older.

  The relationship between Steve and his Uncle Jack remained nearly non-existent. Occasionally the two would speak but they would rarely have an actual conversation. Jack had his own life and seldom did Steve get to participate in it. Any time the two spent together was short and infrequent.

  One exception took place the prior year. Jack took Steve to a Toronto Blue Jays pre-season baseball game that was held at their spring training camp. The training facility was located just a few miles north of Clearwater in a small town called Dunedin.

  Jack ended up with an extra ticket to the game after a friend backed out at the last minute. It was short notice. Jack reluctantly took Steve to the game after numerous calls to his friends went unanswered.

  Jack bought Steve a hotdog, french-fries and a Coke at the game. He even let Steve have a few sips from one of his many large size beers. Steve enjoyed the game and he enjoyed the small bit of attention he received from Jack.

  Each child that attended the pre-season game was presented with a miniature blue and white Blue Jays pennant. When Steve arrived home after the game he tacked the pennant up on the wall above his bed. The pennant remained as the solitary item that decorated the off-white and otherwise bare walls of Steve’s cramped bedroom.

  Since moving in with Jack, Steve secretly longed for a friend. The land on which the trailer stood was desolate. There were no other children living anywhere nearby. Neighborhood friends for Steve were non-existent.

  There were no friends at school for Steve either. His thin and lanky frame, unkempt appearance and peculiar silent behavior made him different from the rest. He was a point of amusement and ridicule for the other children. Steve quickly adapted to the rules of survival. He kept his distance from the other students.

  Steve was an outcast. He became a loner, an outsider. His only refuge remained behind his closed bedroom door in the imaginary world of his books of fiction. It was a world in which he was popular, a world in which he had many friends and a world in which he had a family.

  In late March of Steve’s twelfth year, Jack received an official looking certified letter in the mail. The letter notified Jack that property on which his rented trailer stood was being sold to a developer. The trailer was going to be moved. Jack and Steve were being evicted.

  Jack took the news in stride. He looked through his financial situation and decided he could easily afford something better than the old trailer. He reviewed several local housing options. During the last week of April, Jack and Steve moved into their new home.

  The new home was a fairly spacious two-bedroom house with a small front porch and a big back yard. It was located in a nice, family oriented neighborhood in Clearwater, Florida. The monthly rental for the home was a modest six hundred and fifty dollars a month.

  The rental cost included all water and sewer service, garbage pickup and the use of a TV antenna that was mounted on the roof. Each bedroom also came equipped with a small window mounted air conditioning unit. The kitchen was fully equipped with new appliances. There was even a laundry room with a washer and dryer.

  Jack liked all the extras. He really liked that the owner of the home lived nearby and provided lawn maintenance at no extra charge. The lawn maintenance turned out to be the deciding factor in choosing the house over the other competition.

  Jack set out to use the move to the new house to his benefit. He made a photocopy of the lease contract and modified it to make it appear as if he was paying eleven hundred and fifty dollars a month for rent on the new home. He and his lawyer then used the doctored document to get another increase to the monthly payment from the trust fund.

  The scheme worked flawlessly. A letter arrived with the next monthly check to notify Jack that the substantial increase to the monthly payment had been approved. Even Jack was surprised to find that total amount was increased to over twenty two hundred dollars. As an added bonus, Jack received an extra payment several days later because the increase was approved retroactive to the prior month.

  The increase in the monthly payment was much larger than the increase in the amount that Jack was really paying for the rent of the new home. Jack felt great. He had beaten the system again. He was able to move into a house that was much nicer and much larger than the trailer and he ended up getting a large pay raise along with it.

  The move to the new home also turned out to be good for Steve too. The big back yard offered Steve an alternative over just sitting in his bedroom. At the far back corner of the lot was a large old oak tree. Steve would climb the tree and spend the days reading his books of fiction amongst the high branches.

  * * *

  June began exceptionally hot and humid, even by Florida standards. Steve awoke early on a Saturday morning to find his small window unit air conditioner blowing out warm air. The temperature in the bedroom was already well into the middle eighties and the sun was barely up.

  Steve shut off the air conditioner unit and took a peek out the top of the window. The driveway that ran alongside the house was empty. Jack never made it home from his night of partying.

  The sight of the empty driveway caused Steve’s heart to sink. Even though Jack was far from being a parent or even a friend, he was all Steve had. It would be another day of being left alone for Steve.

  The air in the room seemed to get hotter by the minute. Steve quickly dressed in a plain blue t-shirt, a pair of faded cutoff blue jean shorts and some old no-name sneakers from K-Mart. He picked up a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, which was borrowed from the school library and made his way out of the hot room and to the kitchen.

  The white cabinets, white counter and white appliances in the kitchen of the new house gave the room a very bright, open and spacious appearance. It was an enormous improvement over the cramped and dark kitchen in the trailer.

  The new kitchen was similar to the kitchen in the home in Virginia where Steve spent the first eight years of his life. The new kitchen was Steve’s favorite room in the new house, but he had no idea why
he liked the room so much.

  Steve grabbed an almost empty box of Apple Jacks cereal from the counter. The cereal was his leftover dinner from the night before. Jack had received the monthly trust fund payment but had yet to return to do any of the shopping. Food and other basic items were in short supply. Steve opened up the box of cereal and munched on several handfuls for his breakfast.

  The cereal box was emptied and tossed in the trash. Steve still craved for something. He opened the refrigerator and scanned its meager offerings for something to drink. The choices were limited to several cans of soda, a pitcher of water and an almost empty carton of orange juice. Steve settled for a can of Cherry Cola.

  Steve popped open the soda and guzzled nearly half of it in one large gulp. He grabbed up the dog-eared copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea from the counter and headed out to his sanctuary in the back yard. The old oak tree was like a friend. Steve climbed up to his favorite branch. He carefully positioned himself against the trunk and prepared for a long day of reading.

  After about an hour, a large moving van pulled up to the house next door. The loud commotion from the movers caused Steve to look up momentarily from his book. He indifferently surveyed the noisy activity from his perch in the tree. His interest soon waned and he returned to his reading. Steve had no idea that his life was about to change again.

  * * *

  Joe and Karen Jackson recently purchased the unpretentious three-bedroom home next door. The stucco exterior of the home was freshly painted with a light robin’s egg blue color. The shutters, doors and all of the trim work were painted with a complementary gray color. The home’s neat and humble appearance was the standard for the middle class neighborhood.

  Joe and Karen had a single child. His name was Luke. Luke had just turned nine years old, but he was big for his age. He appeared to be more like eleven or twelve. Luke had thick, dark brown hair and large brown eyes that seemed as if they could look right through you.

  During a very difficult birth, Luke had been deprived of oxygen for several minutes. The lack of oxygen resulted in permanent deafness and what the experts in the field were now referring to as a ‘considerable learning disability’ coupled with ‘heightened social dysfunction’.

  The experts used broad terms that covered a multitude of possible causes and cures. Each new behavioral expert came up with his or her own specific connotation to the meaning behind the words. They also came up with their own version of the diagnosis and appropriate treatment.

  Luke’s condition languished while the experts pondered the true root of his ailment. Karen and Joe were painfully aware that Luke was not progressing with any of his treatments. They could see he was actually getting worse.

  When Luke was younger he was very capable of learning. He had a full understanding of sign language. Luke even had command over a fairly broad vocabulary of words he could articulate rather well verbally.

  As Luke got older, he became more and more withdrawn. One year ago, his talking stopped altogether. Shortly after, his signing became minimal. The experts had no explanation for Luke’s regression. All they offered were new theories and expensive sessions that provided no results.

  Karen and Joe rearranged their lives around Luke’s disability. Joe was a senior accountant for a local manufacturing firm. He passed up several promotions because they meant more time in the office and less time with his family.

  Karen and Joe would spend their free time researching the latest treatments available for Luke. They would enroll him in the best programs they could afford. As with all parents, Joe and Karen wanted the best for their child.

  Karen ended her career in marketing long ago to devote all her time and energy to Luke. While Joe and Karen both suffered, Karen took it the worst. Luke was her life.

  Despite everything Joe and Karen tried, Luke was still getting worse. Nothing seemed to work. The wall of silence around him was growing taller as each day passed.

  Joe, Karen and Luke arrived at their new home about forty-five minutes after the moving van. Their arrival once again caused Steve to look up from his reading. This time he was a little more interested in the events next door.

  Steve sat up straight against the tree trunk in order to get a better view of the new family next door. He spotted Luke and became even more interested. Carefully, Steve inched his way further out on the branch for a better vantage point. He watched Luke walking with his mom. Steve assumed that Luke was about his age due to his large size.

  The new family next door was a curiosity for Steve. It was a real family with a mom and a dad. Steve watched Luke and his mom closely until they entered the house. He waited for a few moments to see if they would reappear before sitting back against the tree trunk and returned to his reading.

  About an hour later, Karen and Luke went out to the back yard. Their arrival again raised Steve’s interest. He closed his book and strained his neck forward. All of his attention was devoted to the new arrivals next door.

  Karen took Luke by the hand. The two walked to a wooden swing set that was set-up half way between the back door of their home and the oak tree in which Steve sat. Steve scrunched his brow, squinting to get a better look.

  From Steve’s perch, he could see that Karen was using sign language to communicate with Luke. Steve had heard the teacher talk about sign language in school but he had never seen anyone actually use it before. He became intrigued.

  As Steve watched Luke and his mom, he noticed that Luke would not respond to the signs from his mom. He appeared to be disinterested and he was not paying any attention to her. Steve wondered if he was OK.

  For the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday, all of Steve’s attention was drawn to the new family next door. Steve would climb the oak tree and spy down on them from his favorite perch high above. By Sunday evening Steve even got brave enough to make several trips over to the chain link fence that separated the two yards.

  Steve hoped that the new kid from next door would see him. Maybe they could meet, and maybe they could even become friends. Steve was longing for a friend and Luke seemed like someone who wouldn’t make fun of him. It might be possible. I might have found a friend, Steve thought.

  When Jack finally arrived home on Sunday night, Steve was already sound asleep. And for the first time in years he dreamed about a life that included a mom and a dad. He dreamed of being part of a real family.

  Steve awoke early on Monday morning. He showered, dressed and was off to school for the last week before summer break. He had hopes that he might see the new kid from next door at school. Maybe he would even be in some of my classes, he thought. And maybe, he could be my friend.

  Before his first class of the day, Steve stopped by the school library to renew the copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea. He was also very interested in the sign language he saw the lady next-door use and checked to see if the library had any books on the topic.

  Steve found two different books on sign language. He decided to take out the thicker book because it had better pictures to describe the signs and also had more details. He kept looking around the school for the new kid from next door but did not see him anywhere.

  Steve began reading the new book on sign language that day during study hall. The idea of communicating without talking seemed especially interesting and appealing to Steve. Over the next few days Steve spent all of his time reading and intently studying the book on sign language.

  Steve studied the diagrams and repeatedly practiced the detailed signs that were pictured. He would draw the signs and memorize them. His sense of learning, which had been dead for so long, had been rekindled.

  Chapter 9 - The Ruse

  Steve Peterson paused for a few seconds and stared at the center building of the Peterson Software complex. The deep cobalt blue color of the morning sky created a spectacular reflection in the mirrored windows of the five-story building. The windowed sections appeared to melt into the surrounding sky. It was truly a weird a
nd wonderful sight.

  A twinge of apprehension still floated around in Steve’s belly. He was worried about going into work on his announced vacation day. He hoped his senior staff wouldn’t feel he was checking up on them.

  Steve fought with his thoughts. He announced to his mind that he would deal with any problems that might arise from going into the office. After all, he was the boss. It is time to go to work, he announced in his head.

  With that decision made, new thoughts flowed through Steve’s mind. He started to think about the unscheduled meeting in the boardroom that Joe had told him about. His mind focused in on this new topic as he walked up to the front of the building.

  The nine-foot high doors at the main entrance of Peterson Software were constructed of heavy brass and glass. The two inch thick, green tinted glass of each door was ornamented with “Peterson Software” in eye-catching gold leaf lettering. A bright red pinstripe accent ran around the edge of the lettering. The massive doors each appeared to weigh over a ton, but they were marvelously balanced. Surprisingly, they opened easily with just a slight pull.

  Steve entered into the main reception area of the complex. The look was bold and high-tech. Two high-powered projection units burned a large reddish yellow ‘P’ and ‘S’ logo across a brushed aluminum wall behind the main reception desk. The use of textures, contrasts and professionally designed lighting added to the dramatic look.

  Margo, the company receptionist, promptly greeted Steve as he walked in. “Good morning Steve,” Margo called out.

  Margo had just celebrated her twelfth anniversary with Peterson software. After Steve and Joe, she had been with the company the longest. At sixty-nine years old she was also the oldest employee, at least as far as years were concerned.