Chapter 12

Witticker opened his eyes to a clear blue sky. The space above him was calm and bright. Birds twittered in a field nearby as the sun shone warmly against his body. Suddenly an unfamiliar face was hovering above him. He began to remember pieces and parts of something uncomfortable. Egg salad. Silver lighter. White Box. Bathrobe. Bathrobe!
Witticker jumped up and back from the face attached to a body in denim overalls.
“Okay,” said the bald man, raising his arms in a tense manner, “you good? You were out for a minute there.”
Witticker was amazed at the naivety in the man’s question. ‘Good’ was a place that he had not been in some time and he wasn’t sure how his passing out had communicated anything but the opposite.
“What’s your name?” asked Witticker coldly.
“Harvey. Harvey Turlingdown,” said the bald man. “Probably should have led off with that, but I got all caught up. You see, I’ve been waiting…”
“No,” snapped Witticker, “you’re done for a minute, Harvey. You just give me a second.”
With a look of surprise Harvey nodded and turned to light another cigarette. Witticker took the silence to gather his thoughts before what he feared would be another mental onslaught.
“Alright Harvey, I’d like you to continue reading this letter to me,” said Witticker hesitantly. “But if those italics tell you to do anything else like what I just saw with that whole bathrobe thing, give me a heads up.”
Harvey nodded in agreement and picked up the letter from where it had fallen to the ground. He straightened himself up as before and cleared his throat to begin.
“As I said before, it is ultimately your choice as to whether or not you utilize these items; but I strongly recommend that you do so if you intend to venture towards any structured form of civilization.”
Witticker heaved an extensive sigh as Harvey continued.
“I imagine you have a great deal of questions in regards to your past and I regret to inform you that neither I nor my associate has any answers. We were hired by an anonymous client to watch you and to ensure the quality of your social and physical development. That is all.”
As Witticker listened to the letter being read he realized he had never spent any stray thoughts on whom he was or where he had come from. He had always lived in the house and until now he had assumed that that was beginning and end of it.
“I will warn you that if it is your goal to seek out your identity you may want to exercise caution in the search. I have given you a pseudo-background to protect you from those who might do you harm. Do not make my efforts in vain.”
Harvey cleared his throat and took another drag on his cigarette.
“In closing I wish to apologize. I am sorry that I wasn’t able to tell you all of this in person. I’m also sorry that your formative years were spent in such a confining environment. I hope that, with the resources provided, you were able to develop to your fullest potential and I wish you the greatest of luck on whatever your endeavor. Sincerely, Brisby Jacobs.”
Harvey folded the letter up and put it back in the briefcase. As he turned towards Witticker his face lit up and his expressions became much warmer.
“So, it’s been a while Witt! How are you feelin’?”
Witticker decided instantly that the nickname was not for him.
“Don’t call me that,” mumbled Witticker as he considered the letter’s contents, “and what do you mean by ‘it’s been a while’? I’ve never even met you.”
Harvey’s eyebrows drew together and his forehead slumped down his face in what appeared to be a mildly offended expression.
“Well, we never formally met, but you used to know who I was. Hell, you used to have a name for me. Used to call me Mr…uh…Mr…Delivery! Yeah, that’s what it was. Mr. Delivery! Ha Ha! Can’t believe I remembered that!”
As Harvey continued his self-congratulation Witticker winced as a fragment of a memory tried to creep its way back into his conscious. He attempted to follow it back to its source, but there didn’t seem to be anything to connect it to.
“Brisby was teaching you occupations at the time and you would shout and dance across the porch whenever I drove into the yard.”
“Hmm,” groaned Witticker as he turned to walk away from Harvey.
“Guess the title was fitting. Hey, where you goin’?”
Witticker had jumped the fence and was walking towards the shady tree where he had eaten lunch.
“I’m getting my suitcase, Harvey.”
Witticker stopped and looked back as Harvey climbed clumsily over the fence with the briefcase.
“You know, Harvey, I appreciate you bringing me the letter and the bag of gadgets and all, but I think I’m just gonna leave the briefcase with you and head out on my own. Thanks for your concern and…”
“No,” interrupted Harvey, “I really think you oughta take this briefcase. Look.”
Harvey walked over to Witticker’s suitcase and began pulling his particulars out and shoving them into the unfamiliar case.
“Your stuff will fit in here easy,” said Harve, his hands busy, “Just think of it as a going away present.”
Witticker stood rigid from shock as Harvey rifled through his belongings.
“Really. Harvey,” said Witticker shakily, “I don’t need the box or the pen or anything in that bag. I’ll manage.”
At hearing this Harvey stopped packing, grabbed the letter from the briefcase, and started walking towards Witticker.
“Okay, I’ll level with you,” said Harvey, “Just read the last line of italics before the end.”
Witticker took the letter and scanned through its contents until he came to the bottom of the last page. He saw a single line in italics.
Do NOT let Witticker leave without taking the briefcase.
“Now you see, huh? I’ll let you in on another little secret too. Harvey Turlingdown always finishes a job to the T.”
To verify his nature he put his thumbs in the overall straps and straightened himself up proudly.
“I promised Brisby I’d do this and I’m not gonna let you leave without that briefcase, so whether you want it or not, it’s yours.”
At this Harvey walked back towards the tree and continued packing. Witticker, resigned to his fate, walked back towards the road and sat down, leaning against a fence post.
A few minutes later, Harvey crawled back over the fence and set the briefcase down in front of Witticker.
“I think you’ll like this a lot more anyway. Your old suitcase was pretty ratty.”
Witticker looked up at Harvey disdainfully and then slowly rose to his feet. After he brushed himself off he picked up the new briefcase and turned to continue his trek down the road. Harvey followed.
“Mind if I walk with ya for a while? Since we’re both goin the same direction, I mean. I could use the company. Hell, haven’t had any contact at all for a few months now.”
Witticker didn’t respond and kept walking.
“I’ll take that as an, ‘Okay, Harvey. I’d love to have you walk with me’.”
Harvey jogged up beside Witticker and flicked an ash out into the field.
“So Witt, what’s with the leather book and binoculars? Spyin’ on somebody? Well, let me tell ya. There ain’t nobody ‘round here for miles, so there’s no use! Ha!”
Witticker sighed and quickened his pace, hoping desperately to put as much distance as he could between himself and Mr. Delivery.