Night Vale Unsolved

31

The door to the recording studio opened slightly, and Cecil wouldn't have noticed it had it not been for the tell tale squeee sound it started to make once it opened wide enough.
He glanced over to see the new station intern, Alex Young, holding out a slip of paper. Cecil, still talking into the microphone, held up a finger. Understanding the gesture's message, Alex slipped inside and shut the door.
"And now a word from our sponsor." Cecil switched off the microphone and played the recording. He turned to Alex.
"Here," Alex said, handing him the paper, "I...think this is for you."
Alex turned to go as soon as Cecil took the paper. "Thanks!" Cecil called, but Alex was gone.
"Oh well," Cecil muttered, staring at the paper. In large black ink, someone had written "CECIL" on it. It was folded with nice, clean edges.
Cecil went to work unfolding the paper. There were a lot of folds; whoever it was from didn't want anyone else to see whatever was inside.
Finally, it was open. Cecil smoothed it out and began to read.
"Cecil. I hope this is you reading this. The only way I could get this to you is through the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In My House, since she really lives in all of our houses. But anyway. If this is you reading, then there is something very important that you have to know. But I can't tell you like this. Meet me-"
A high pitched beeping from Cecil's soundboard announced that the sponsor's message was over. Fumbling a little, Cecil switched back on his microphone and addressed the listeners.
"Ah, listeners," He said, "I have just received a very strange message. While I read it, let's go now to the weather."
Having bought himself a bit more time, Cecil switched off his microphone yet again and started the weather.
He went back to the note.
"Meet me behind the Desert Flower Bowling Alley And Arcade Fun Complex tonight after your broadcast. Please. It's very important."
Cecil grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the instructions. He kept reading.
"P.S: Don't read this on the radio! No one else can know."
Cecil hesitated. He wanted to respect whoever's privacy this was, but every reporter's instinct in his body told him to read the note over the air anyway. Besides, he'd already told the listeners that he had a note.
"Well, " Cecil mused out loud, "I don't have to tell them what was in the note. I can...make something up! Yeah, let's see..."
Just then, the weather ended. Still undecided on his cover story, Cecil went on with his broadcast.
"Welcome back, listeners. About that note..." He faltered. What could he say? Suddenly, an idea hit him.
"The note," he repeated, "Is actually from Carlos. Isn't that sweet, listeners?" Cecil went on, warming up to his story. "Carlos made a...discovery in his lab just now and...he isn't doing a very good job of explaining what it is. Let's see..." Cecil racked his brain for any science-y thing he could talk about. "He says...that one of his scientists found a...a, um, oh! A small, round egg!" He thought about the egg he'd had for lunch, and ran with it. "Yes, that's it! And the egg is shaking, and it might hatch at any moment! Oh, isn't that just adorable, listeners?"
Cecil sighed, proud of himself for making such a great cover story for the note. And with that out of the way, he was able to go on with the show as normal. The community calendar, an update from local sports (Janice and her team were doing very well this season!), and a message about cooking safety from the City Council. There had been a few oven related fires recently, so the Council wanted to head that off as soon as possible.
After the show was over, Cecil gathered his things and looked back at the paper on which he'd written down the note's instructions. The note itself, he stuck in one of his pockets.
Just then, his phone rang.
"Hello?" He answered it.
"Cecil?" Carlos sounded confused.
"Hi Carlos! About movie night, I might get home a little la-"
"Cecil, did one of my scientists find a strange egg?"
Cecil stopped in his tracks. Oops.
"Uhm," He tried, "Ah, no, no I don't think so..."
"But you said you got a note. A note from me. And I know I didn't send you a note, I-"
"Carlos," Cecil pleaded, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you about the note I got telling me to meet someone behind the Desert Flower Bowling Alley And Arcade-oh. "
"Cecil," Carlo's voice was quiet, but hard. "Who's asking to meet you?"
"I..." Cecil gave in. "I don't know."
"You don't-" Carlos stopped short, and Cecil could hear him taking a deep breath. "Cecil," He finally said, "Are you going to meet up with someone you don't know, at night, without telling anyone?"
"Um...yes?"
Carlos sighed. "At least let me pick you up and drive you there. I'll feel better knowing I'm closer by."
"Sure!" Cecil agreed. After all, the note hadn't said to come alone. Well, it did say that no one else could know, but Carlos wasn't just someone else. He was Carlos!
And so Cecil sat in the lobby, waiting for Carlos and wondering who had written that note, and more importantly, what they wanted to tell him.