The Not so Secret Agent

Chapter 6: Mail Call

Almost two weeks passed before any mail arrived at the work camp. The announcement came after supper when Arthur and his two students were in the middle of a lesson. This was both a pleasant surprise and a cause for apprehension. Even though he had written several letters to friends and family not one of them was mailed. It was somehow easier not to think about his former life and all he had lost.

Arthur collected four letters then walked back to the shady spot under the big oak. Both Samantha and Laura were already reading their mail when Arthur sat down to examine his letters. Three letters were from Tee and the other one was from his mother. He really didn't want to open that one just yet, so he selected the earliest letter from his sister. The letter was postmarked five days after his trial, the thirteenth of May.

Arthur,

I just have a bit of time to write before I have to leave for class this morning, so I'll scribble fast. Just so you know I picked up your truck; you're a pig by the way. Is that peanut butter in the floorboard?

The trip over to meet your landlady was interesting. She said your girlfriend came by yesterday. "Don't tell Arthur I said this," she whispered. "But that girl's a tramp." I guess you always did attract interesting company. After I paid her the five hundred dollars she quit grumbling so much about you and the company you keep. She even invited me inside her place for iced tea.

I picked up the dog although I refuse to call him 'Lucky' since he has ruined three of my rugs already. Did you know he had bladder control issues when you pawned him off on me? Every time I come home he runs toward me both peeing and jumping. I don't have many visitors.

Anyway, I'd like to know how you're doing. It might do me some good to hear that your life sucks worse than mine does, so hit me back. Gotta go; your damned dog's chewing on my lamp again.

Go to Hell,

Tee

Samantha and Laura were trying to read their very serious letters while Arthur snickered.

"What are you laughing about?" Samantha put her letter down in the dirt.

"My dog peeing on my sister's stuff... now that's comedy! Listen to this." Arthur read his sister's letter aloud.

"Goddamn, she sounds just like you." Laura smirked.

Samantha was incredulous. "You're a criminal in a hard labor camp in this fucked up foreign country and your sister wrote you... about a stupid dog?"

"Hey, don't talk ill of poor Lucky." Arthur said. "He's a good dog, just got a nervous temperament and an undersized bladder is all. Let's see... this letter's from May 20th."

Arthur,

You still haven't written me back. I thought criminals had a lot of time on their hands. Mom's been driving me nuts about you; she thinks you're being tortured or something. You two were barely on speaking terms for the last four years now you're all she wants to talk about. The lengths you will go to get attention Arthur; that's really mature.

One of your former coworkers called me yesterday. His name was Bill or Billy or something, and he wanted to know why you weren't at the league baseball game Saturday. He said you were a better shortstop on Saturday mornings before you got into the beer. That's funny, I never saw you play baseball sober before. Anyway to avoid any embarrassment about your situation I gave him a pretty good excuse for your absence. It turns out you moved to California to join an end-days cult in the desert, your family tried to talk you out of it but you had to go where the Prophet said.

I've been taking some summer classes at college; I just sit back in my flip-flops and shorts and relax. There's a lab assistant in my chemistry class who gives me so many hints that I don't really have to pay attention at all. Science nerds always appreciate the opportunity to talk to an actual girl. Sound familiar?

Anyway, I just thought I would waste some more time writing to my criminal brother even though he doesn't bother to write back. I sometimes still think you made all that shit up. I mean where the hell's Danubia anyway? Why couldn't you get arrested in Spain or France?

Write me back you idiot,

Tee

"See, now that letter had some real heartfelt emotion in it," Arthur said. "Didn't have any urinating dog content but that was still some pretty deep stuff."

"If you say so..." Samantha smirked.

"Arthur," Laura asked. "Have you not been wearing your hardhat?"

"Well of course I wear it... the guards make sure of it. Those guys are really great at that sort of thing, even though we don't speak the same language they have a way of getting their point across clearly."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we've seen your back, we noticed."

"Oh," Arthur said. "It looks like I have one more letter from Tee, postmarked May 23rd. Sit back and enjoy!"

Arthur,

I just realized for the first time ever that I miss you. If you were here I wouldn't have to put up with so much shit. Mom had me contact the American embassy Monday, then some deputy jerk-off at the State Department, then some of our congress critters.

There was one man at the embassy that actually thought you're a spy. I said that the government isn't that desperate; but he kept telling me how he believed you worked in intelligence. "If there are two words that don't belong together," I told him, "it's Arthur and intelligence." As you know I have been your most steadfast defender.

Mom talked to an official at the State Department about you and he thought that perhaps some kind of a deal could be worked out between the US and Danubia to exchange prisoners or something. I expected they would be eager to trade you for just about anything the Danubians so far are unresponsive.

And that dog of yours is enough to drive a mad girl sane. I walked him down to the park yesterday; he ran in a circle, wrapped the leash around my legs and lunged. I hit the dirt then 'Lucky' ran off down the street. After searching for five hours I found him last night in a dumpster behind a restaurant. I guess he jumped in there for the food but couldn't get out. So thanks to you I had to wrestle a dog covered in table scraps out of a dumpster on Saturday night. You've done wonders for my social life Arthur, on a related note "Lucky" found a piece of sausage in my hair last night.

Write me back sometime if you're not too busy making prison hooch or whatever it is you do.

You really suck,

Tee

Arthur exclaimed: "See; now that's a letter!"

"Does she always talk to you like that?" Laura asked.

"No, there's usually more cursing. I might ask around tomorrow and see if I can get some writing supplies and send her a letter back."

"Anyway," Arthur said. "I suppose we should finish up this lesson so we can get some rest. I'm just about to run out of useful phrases, most of the words I've learned here just seem to be cussing and insults."

The lesson was finished in another half hour and Arthur went back to his cot in the barracks. He didn't have anywhere else to put Tee's letters so he placed them in the now dry metal bucket that rested under his cot. He opened the remaining letter and with some apprehension he read his mother's words.

"Hmm... let's see... starts out with the obligatory trite stuff- 'she loves me, misses me, blah, blah, blah."

"Oh here we go, now she's back to her usual self... 'She's worried, she's suffering, she's disappointed in me, do I know what I'm putting her through?' Ha... next time they're beating the shit out of me I'll be sure to think about how much she's suffering. Let her go back to her other family if I'm too big of an inconvenience now."

One thing stuck in his head, his mother's question: 'Why do you have to be so reckless, do you know what you're putting us through?'

"Well..." Arthur fumed. "Maybe if you hadn't run off with your new husband and his kids I wouldn't be in this mess!"

Arthur thought about what he just said. "Well...that didn't make any sense at all." He tossed the letter in his bucket he lay down and tried to sleep.

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The next day was like any other; Arthur spent twelve hours carrying rocks down the slope and tossing them in the back of a dump truck. As soon as the slope was clean the engineers would blast and create a new pile of debris that had to be removed. The guards made sure the criminals worked hard all day through the liberal use of a leather strap they kept ready.

Arthur had trouble understanding most of the orders but when the work foremen grew angry they always used the same phrase. Form up meant the criminal should stand up straight, turn around, and fold his hands behind his head with fingers interlocked. This position allowed the guards to strike a criminal across the shoulders without risking accidental damage to a criminal's hands. The last thing the Ministry wanted to do was to impair a man's ability to work. They never struck any lower on the body; Arthur figured, to avoid any legal complications when it came time for a criminal's judicial punishments to happen.

Even the most hard working and cooperative men on the crew had marks across their shoulders by the end of the first week. The language barrier and Arthur's general aloof demeanor grated on the supervisors' nerves and cost him more punishment than most. The guards made a big show of it when he got in trouble; beating the American spy in front of the whole work crew. Arthur endured it as best he could; he tried to not show fear when a guard stepped behind him with the strap's wooden handle held in one hard fist. He could only wait for the guard to draw back his arm; then there was a whispery noise as the strap cut swiftly through the air. The pain that radiated across his shoulders was something Arthur could never ignore. The five-inch wide strip of thick leather hit hard and stung horribly.

Animal was the foremen's' favorite insult, by far the most common term used to describe the criminals on the work crew. Dishonored animal, lazy animal, stupid animal and many adjectives he didn't yet comprehend were yelled at him throughout the day, insults that sometimes came along with an order to form up and endure a few burning strikes of the strap.

Samantha and Laura had also been through a difficult time the past two weeks. The women's crew didn't do hard labor up in the mountains; instead they did tasks like cleaning the barracks and other public buildings in town. The women were also responsible for preparing meals and when they weren't cooking or cleaning the guards marched them outside the city to tend the city's farms. After work they looked just as exhausted as Arthur felt.

After supper Arthur decided he would try to get the writing supplies. He walked to a small metal building that the warden used as an office. He opened the door, walked inside, knelt and waited for permission to speak.

The warden and a couple of his foremen had been talking before the interruption. "What are you doing in my office?" The Warden demanded. "You better not get my floor dirty."

"Sir," Arthur said. "Could I have some writing supplies; a pen and paper to write a letter?"

The warden was less than cooperative. "You animals don't need to write, just work." After being abused by the two foremen Arthur went to find his students.

"You know," Arthur rubbed at the side of his head. "That was the first time I've literally been thrown out the door. I did pick up a new phrase though, I think it means filthy worthless dog in Danubian but I'm not sure how to spell it."

Samantha sighed, shaking her head. "They're beating the shit out you and you're thinking about grammar; you're pretty fucked up Arthur."

Arthur sat down in the dirt trying his best to look indignant. "Such language; as soon as I get some paper that's going directly on your report card young lady!"

Arthur gestured to the clearing between the tree and perimeter fence. "Sometimes, I don't think you kids appreciate the proud tradition of this fine educational institution. You just take it for granted, like it's always been here but let me tell you a story. Let me take you back, all the way back to the beginning, when I started this school with nothing but the collar on my neck and a pointy stick for scratching words in the dirt; but I did have one thing... I had a dream."

"Arthur," Laura snickered. "That was like thirteen days ago."

"Yes," Arthur reminisced, "how far we've come since then. Why, it seems like only yesterday we were sitting right in this very spot practicing numbers and adjectives."

"That was yesterday." Samantha smirked.

"Arthur," Laura jabbed. "Were you like this before your arrest?"

"Nah... I usually wore pants."

A cute little wrinkle formed on the bridge of Samantha's nose when she smiled big. Laughter transitioned into exhaustion, she stretched out stiff arms above her head. "Oh, I'm so sore... so tired. I could go to sleep right here in the dirt."

"Don't lay down then." Arthur said. "I've still got some educating to do. For today's lesson I want to go over something a little different, I've taught you some things you can say to the guards, other criminals, and staff. Now you need to know what not to say."

"I've learned through many bad experiences," Arthur nodded toward the warden's office, "that Danubians are easily offended; say the wrong thing and you'll get yelled at or worse. And having a conversation with a public official is comparable to defusing a bomb. You gotta be cautious and prepared.

Arthur picked up the pointy stick and scratched a number one in the dirt. Then he wrote the word LYING. "Okay... number one on my top ten list is lying. Never ever accuse a Danubian of lying; even joking about it will offend them."

"Don't admit to lying in the past either," Arthur advised. "They'll look at you like you kicked their dog or something. So the point is: don't get caught lying. Obviously, it's best to just tell the truth unless it's really worth it.

Now, I'm not completely sure I've got this right but I think that if they catch you lying they'll drag you over to their Church and put another collar on your neck!"

"No way! Another one?" Laura's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with a hand.

"Yeah, I think so... see, about a week after my arrest I saw this naked dude with a different sort of collar so I asked Spokesman Ralkliv what kind of criminal he was. Ralkliv told me he wasn't a criminal at all; he was some kind of a captive belonging to the Danubian Church! He couldn't say what the guy did wrong but he did tell me that people who are collared by the Church have often been caught lying. So I decided right then and there I wouldn't be caught, don't want to end up with my neck stretched out like a giraffe." Arthur gripped the edge of his collar. "Just having one of these is bad enough, never figured I'd have calluses on my neck. Uh... okay... on to number two..."

Half an hour later Arthur got to number ten on his list and everyone was tired. Samantha yawned and stretched. "Mmm... so Mr. Liggett, is that all? If you don't have any more lessons for us I really want to get cleaned up and get some sleep."

It amused Arthur how the girls sometimes treated him like an actual teacher, asking for permission to leave and such. He changed from English to Danubian: "Class is dismissed. Goodnight Criminal number 88634 and Criminal number 88635. I will see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Criminal number 88588." They both stumbled through the words, improving a little every day.

Arthur admired their butts as they strolled back toward the women's barracks. He was tired too, but before he got up something occurred to him: he was really enjoying the daily meetings with Samantha and Laura. He thought about the girls often, especially Samantha. It didn't make sense how a person could be happy at a hard labor camp but at least for a time after work, he was.

---------

Persistence does sometimes pay off in life. The second and third day that Arthur went to the warden's office he got the same result, but on day four the warden relented.

"Young man," he said. "You're an idiot. You come in here every day even though I tell you not to come back. And even though you get thrown out the door every day you continue to come back." The warden opened a desk drawer. A notebook and a couple pens hit the floor in front of Arthur. "Now are you satisfied?"

"Yes sir." Arthur had his small victory that day.

Laura and Samantha waited beneath the oak. "You got it?" Samantha's eyes opened wide. "I can't believe it. Still, that's a lot to go through for a notebook."

"I've got a couple ink pens too." Arthur waved them about, proudly showing off his prizes. "Now if you will excuse me I'm going to go write some hate mail to send to my idiotic sister."

Tee,

I just received your first three letters this week. I suppose all my mail is being screened for secret spy language before they let it through. They probably thought the poor grammar and senseless rambling in your letters was some kind of a code. It's good to know that you went at least a week without wrecking the truck, and that's not peanut butter in the floor it was ice cream.

I always suspected my landlady talked about me behind my back, but I suppose she knows a worthless tramp when she sees one, you did say she invited you inside. I'm surprised you're having such a hard time with Lucky. He seems just as well housetrained as your last boyfriend, and at least he shows the initiative to go out and get his own food.

I received mom's letter too. You can tell her that what's happened to me isn't what I would consider torture, and I know torture. I've attended five of her family reunions. Much of her letter was spent lecturing me on how I should have listened to her and stayed out of trouble. I suppose she probably tried to warn me as a child not to get involved in espionage in Eastern Europe but I just wouldn't listen.

Billy's baseball team's really going to miss me; I had the biggest cooler. And I had a strict rule: no beer before noon unless I get thirsty. The end-days cult was a nice touch, but I'm more of UFO cult kind of guy.

Tee, it's baffling how you even got accepted into college, but since you're there I suppose your current technique of acting like a whore to get actual students to do your work for you is your best shot at getting a degree. You might try a little harder than flip-flops though if your plan to negotiate with the professor for an A.

There are several words in the English language that I could use to express my gratitude for the few phone calls you made on my behalf, but I don't feel like using any of them right now. I contacted several of them myself and you should see the fine collection of form letters they sent.

Since this is the first letter I'm actually going to send you, I suppose I should give a bit of an overview of what life is like here. For the first month I lived in the city of Rika Chorna. It's a fairly big city on the eastern side of Upper Danubia. I had a job as a bricklayer and I lived at my boss's house.

Three weeks ago, however, I happened to get off work early and I met these two American girls. They were here as tourists at the time, so I bought them lunch and we talked perhaps a little too much. A week later those two got arrested for possession of some illegal drugs and since I knew about their drugs all three of us got in trouble. The judge sent us to a hard labor camp at a town called Novo Sumi Ris. So it's going to be September by the time I get back to the city. I'm set up pretty good here though; I've got my own canvas cot and a metal bucket. The food is also better than one would expect from a hard labor camp.

I can't make any phone calls but I'll try and send out more letters. Writing supplies are difficult to find here, you wouldn't believe what I went through just to get this notebook.