Hyperopic Dissidence - Entry for @v4vapid's Conspiracy Writing Contest #3

“And release.”

Glen opened his eyes and shook his head. He was drenched in sweat and felt a bit shaky. He grasped the desk he was sitting at for support. On the desk was a sheet of paper that had drawings scribbled on it. He did not recall drawing on the paper.

Before him, a hollow-cheeked man sat motionless. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit sporting a dark tan fedora, brim down on his forehead shadowing his eyes. A lit cigarette hung from his mouth. There was nothing peculiar about him other than his presence. The man took a long drag on his cigarette. Reaching over he grabbed the paper, exhaling smoke onto Glen’s desk where it seemed to settle, like a London fog.

“Interesting, very interesting.” After a brief look, he placed the paper into a red folder he had resting on his lap.

The man stared at Glen, his cigarette glowing red like the brake light on the back of a car, not moving or saying anything save for his finger tapping on the red folder.

Glen broke his gaze from the man to look around the room. It was a school classroom. He recognized it as his homeroom at Jefferson High. The chairs and desk were strewn with papers and books as though everyone had simply dropped what they were doing and left.

A knock at the door.

The man tossed his cigarette to the linoleum tile. He squashed it out as he made his way to the door. Another man, dressed similarly stood in the doorway. The new blue suit entered the classroom, heading straight to the chalkboard. He picked up chalk and began to write.

“Glen, are you with us? Please answer the question.”

Chuckles rose from the rest of the students around Glen. He looked around the room again to see the seats and desks now filled with his classmates. He was confused and felt displaced. It was not the first time that he had felt that way at school, specifically in Mrs. Brown’s classroom.

Mrs. Brown now stood in front of Glen adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses, tapping her foot.

“Glen Hubert, if you do not start paying attention, I will have to send you to detention. Do I make myself clear?”

The bell rang to signal class dismissal. The classroom filled with the din of chairs sliding and students talking as they filed out of the classroom.

Mrs. Brown put her hands on her hips and huffed. She turned back to her desk as Glen gathered his things. Glen paused as he got up, noticing what looked to be a burn mark on the floor. He definitely didn't recall seeing that before. The sight of the burn gave him a niggling feeling, but he could not figure out what it was.

In the hallway, Glen nodded to a couple of his friends. He turned down the corridor to his next class and observed two gentlemen, presumably truancy officers, leaving through the main doors. Probably just bringing Gavin Riggs back in again. The guy was a Grade A delinquent. Glen shrugged and continued down the corridor.

The two suits exited from the school and paused outside the door as a black Hudson Wasp pulled up to the curb.

Blue suit number one handed the red folder to blue suit two.

“I think we got him this time. Looks like it’s someone in Bonn. We might need another session to be sure.” Blue suit one flipped a cigarette to his mouth and lit it, shielding it from the wind.

“Shit, the director’s going to flip.” Blue suit two looked at his watch. “We need to get this to him now and request another session.”

Glen had received an A+ in math this morning, avoided running into the jocks on the way in to school and was looking forward to his next period science lab and the frog dissection. He just needed to get through Mrs. Brown’s class. He was not sure why he felt a bit anxious. He always got the heebie jeebies in her class.

“All right, class, settle down. Have a seat.”

The hubbub died down as Mrs. Brown started to write on the chalkboard. Glen heard a few moans as the topics appeared from her scrawllings across the board.

As she finished, she turned to address the class and the door opened. A man in a blue suit, with a dark tan fedora walked in. He placed a red folder on her desk.

“May I help you?” Mrs. Brown addressed the interruption.

The man looked at Mrs. Brown. “The blue dolphin marches with the flamingos.”

Mrs. Brown dropped the chalk. Her face went blank. Glen looked around at his classmates. They were emulating the same expression. They stood in unison, marching out of the classroom after Mrs. Brown.

Glen was too stunned to move or even say anything. Blue suit shut the door as the last student filed out of the class.

He grabbed the red folder and walked over to Glen. Turning the chair around, he produced a piece of blank paper, then placed it on Glen’s desk.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he sat back and took a long drag. He stared at Glen.

Glen’s mouth went dry as if he had stuffed cotton balls into it. He tried to talk, forming words in his brain, but nothing came out.

Blue suit smiled. “You want to know who I am. Am I right?”

Glen nodded. It was all he could do.

Blue suit sighed. “Ok, we’ve been through this before, you know.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a billfold, opening it to reveal a badge.

“Agent Sims. At your service,” he said, snapping the folio shut and putting it back in his jacket.

Glen cleared his throat summoning the courage to speak. “Where did everyone go? W-what happened?”

“Oh that. We placed them into a somnambulatory state using a predefined cognitive script. They won’t remember a thing. They are fine. But you know all this already. As a matter of fact we’ve had this same conversation before.”

Agent Sims grinned, pausing for a drag on his cigarette. “Shall we get started.”

“Started? Started on what? What are you talking about?”

“Look kid, you’re our receptor. We have a bad actor in Germany and need to catch him. Our last session with you put him in Bonn. We need a bit more. Comprende?”

“Session? What session? What are you talking about?”

“Ok, just calm down and listen to my voice. The dog fell into the rabbit hole.”

“Agent Sims, I think I would like to have my parents here.”

“Shit.” Agent Sims shifted in his seat leaning closer to Glen. “Glen, I really need you to listen to my voice. The dog fell into the rabbit hole.”

Glen’s face went blank and he stared straight at Sims.

Sims slumped back into the chair. “Whew, Glen my boy. I thought I was going to have to burn you as a receptor. I’m glad I didn’t. I’m starting to like you.”

Sims looked at Glen as he continued to stare with no acknowledgement of Sims having spoken to him.

Sims hand was shaking as he pulled out another piece of paper from the red folder and placed it in front of Glen. He had never been this close to burning a receptor.

I hope this actually works and we can leave this kid alone.

“This is your target matrix. Look at it now and then begin.”

Glen looked at the new piece of paper and without removing his glaze began to draw and scratch on the blank piece of paper.

“Glen. Glen Hubert you’ve earned yourself a detention. This is the second day in a row of you not paying attention.” Mrs. Brown wrote something down in her notebook.

Glen felt that same feeling of apprehension that he had felt the previous day. He could not place it but felt deep down something was just not right.

“All right class. That’s enough, settle down.” Mrs Brown motioned for everyone to sit.

“Let’s begin.”

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@v4apid please accept this as my entry to your conspiracy writing contest.
Thanks to the members of The Writers' Block for the wickedly fast turnaround and comments. You guys are great!

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_{Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash
Images Pixabay and Wikipedia}

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