Messenger Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Evan looked to the horizon. It was getting late, the day was
rapidly ending. The sun was getting too low. It could have been one hundred
steps; it could have been ten thousand. It made no difference. The journey was
long, but he had a job to do and he still had miles and miles left to go.
Evan had been charged with a delicate and extremely important
task. He carried with him a stack of papers, ancient and rare. Evan didn’t know
what they were or what they said. He took his job seriously and part of his job
was to protect the privacy and anonymity of his clients. He didn’t ask what he
was carrying. He didn’t want to know. Many men might have been tempted to read
the papers. He wasn’t many men. His word was a sacred bond and he wasn’t going
to break it just to read some antique and crumbling papers. Besides, he
thought, what could they possibly have to say that was that important?
There had been a fire. Evan didn’t know about that. That wasn’t
part of his job. But an archive had been burned. Most of the texts had been
lost. There was an arsonist on the loose and the archive had been burned. There
was supposed to be someone who was going to do something about that but
apparently they had been unsuccessful so far. Again, none of this was Evan’s
concern. He had one job and one job only – to deliver his package. He knew
nothing of archives or arsonists or any of the rest.
Evan had been approached by a man named Nestor. And Nestor had a
package for him. Evan was hired to make a delivery and that was what he was
going to do. He didn’t ask Nestor what it was. He didn’t ask Nestor for any
details regarding how he came to possess this package or why it seemed as if
there were serious burn marks that were being poorly hidden by Nestor’s shirt.
Nestor had been nervous. He was paranoid and always looking around. He was
either a mad man or a man certain that he was being followed and was in danger.
Nestor paid well and Evan didn’t ask questions. Nestor was incredibly relieved
to hand the package over to Evan and be on his way.
Evan was always a careful man. But his exchange with Nestor left
him uneasy. He hated when the client was nervous. It usually meant trouble. But
he liked the money and he didn’t ask questions. It was better not to know.
Still, he took every extra precaution he could think of.
Evan traveled on foot. No one knew where he was. There was no
record. This wasn’t his normal way of delivering a package, but in this case he
decided it was for the best. This was a special case. There could be no
mistake. There could be no trail to be followed.
The sun was setting. The distance too great. The road was still
too long. It could have been ten steps, it could have been a thousand, or it
could have been a million. It didn’t matter – he had his job to do and he was
going to do.
When Nestor had left, he offered Evan only one extra bit of
advice, “don’t.”
It was such an odd thing to say, it caught Evan off-guard and he
actually asked a question he normally never would have.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t. Just don’t. Don’t look at it. Don’t write anything down. Just
don’t.”
The fear in Nestor’s voice stuck with Evan more than anything
else. Evan didn’t get nervous often, it wasn’t a feeling he liked. Usually when
a client was scared, it didn’t really affect him too greatly. This time it did.
This time there was legitimate terror behind Nestor’s eyes. Evan believed it.
He almost asked more. He wanted to ask more. But that wasn’t his thing. Still,
he would be glad when the package was delivered and out of his hands and it was
all over.
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