The Mind Virus

Chapter 9 - Part 1

Splinters from the cheap wooden pallets clawed their way through Jim's equally cheap gloves and into his hands. It couldn't be said that he found it pleasant, but at the same time, he was so used to it from years of working in this godforsaken warehouse, that it didn't so much as catch his attention anymore. He was more focused on the merciless hangover that was plaguing him. Drinking as heavily as he did the night before felt like a good idea at the time, but he was now paying the price.

The cringe materialized itself in the form of a shiver as he thought about that night. It started out perfectly fine, all the way until he started getting emotional. Letting loose with a tirade of his feelings was not consistent with his personality. In fact, going out for drinks at all wasn't consistent with his personality either. He supposed he had been won over by the unusual-yet-reassuring charisma of Officer Roberts.

"Jesus, you look like a sack of shit." Colin was driving past in his forklift as he made the casual observation.

"I assure you, the visage accurately reflects the man inside."

"Do you have the flu or did you spend all of last night huffing jenkem?"

"Closer to the latter."

"A part of me is curious, but I don't think I want to know any more," Colin laughed. "Nice tower of pallets you've got there."

Jim looked over at the mountain he'd stacked. "Hm, let's see. Looks like fourteen of them. Not my personal record, but I try. Anything to annoy the pickers when they have to take them down."

"A noble endeavor, Detective. Long may you reign your reign of terror."

Jim forced a chuckle as his stomach acid sloshed back and forth. "What are you doing 'round these parts anyway?"

"I'm taking off."

Jim glanced at his watch. "A bit early, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but my aisle's all done, and I really can't be bothered to help the rest of the guys out."

"Thanks for being a team player. Truly employee of the month material."

"I don't really care. This job is just a stepping stone. It is for everyone on the team. No one wants to stay here."

Whether or not Colin intended to cause any offense, Jim didn't feel good about staying in the job for as long as he had. Outside of the supervisors, he was the most senior member on the team. It was necessary, but hardly a point of pride for him.

Colin must have picked up on what Jim was thinking. "Don't make that face, Jim. You ain't here forever either. You've got that whole police thing going on, haven't you?"

"At the rate 'that whole police thing' has been going, I'll reach retirement age as an intern."

"Don't be so pessimistic. Sure, you can reach retirement age as an intern, but they might offer you a job after that. They can send you out on patrol with a walking frame."

"Truly, I have a lot to look forward to." Jim scowled.

"Why don't I help you out with finishing your aisle, and then we can go out and have a few drinks."

"Oh God, no. I mean, you're free to help me out over here if your lazy ass is willing to do some work, but I don't think I want to so much as look at any alcoholic beverage again for at least another month or two."

"Ah, I should have known it was a hangover. Mad props to you for showing up to work anyway instead of just calling in sick. God knows everyone else on the team would."

"What can I say? We're paid by the hour, and it's not like my other job – if we can even call it that – is putting anything in my bank account."

"Understood. Well, I'm off to the bar now for the rest of the afternoon, evening, night, and possibly tomorrow morning as well. Enjoy toiling away, Detective."

"Hey, hey, what happened to helping me out with my aisle?"

"You'll manage."

"Thanks. Oh, hey, before you go, can I ask a favor of you?"

"Go for it."

"OK, this is a bit personal, I know, but I was wondering if I could talk to your parents."

"Planning on asking them for my hand in marriage?"

"You wish. This is actually about – OK, don't take this the wrong way, but I'd like to ask them about your sister – her death and the circumstances surrounding it."

Jim had clearly struck a sore spot with Colin. "Look, Jim, I get what you're trying to do. Or, I think I do anyway. I just don't see what good dredging it all up is going to do."

"I understand this is tough for you. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of it all."

"What's there to get to the bottom of? It was suicide, plain and simple."

"I don't think it was."

"Is that your opinion, or is this some police thing?"

"It's complicated. Look, buddy, I'm not trying to reopen old wounds. I'm just hoping that if we find out what's behind this spike in suicides, we can prevent more from happening."

Colin hesitated for a while. "All right, my mom's gonna be home today. My dad's at work until six, but you're probably better off not talking to him. He didn't take Melinda's death very well. It's funny, I always looked up to him for how well he coped with problems, but he seems the most broken by Mel's death."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jim offered vacantly.

"Yeah, me too, Jim. I'll text you their address when I get to the car in a minute. Just do me a favor; be gone by the time my dad gets home. He doesn't need the aggravation."

"Right, you got it. Thanks."

"I'll see you around, Detective."

"Yeah, see you around, Col."

Jim turned his attention back to his stack of pallets, trying to decide whether he could flip one high enough to break his record of sixteen, and more importantly, whether he could weather the nausea and perform the feat without throwing up all over the smooth warehouse floor.