Anyways, the children got a big surprise at the hospital today. The Bulldogs, local hockey team to you, came to see them. We had to fit 24 bulky players with equipment, cameramen, reps and the mascot into our family lounge, which is still overcrowded with toys because the playroom remains under construction. I stayed an hour and half over shift time to help set up and bring stuff for children who couldn't make it. I carried around stuffed bulldogs, almost kicked some TV reporter's crazy expensive camera that he left on the floor and stared more than was decent at the really good looking team manager. I'm exhausted but no complaints here, they were great eye candy. Can we get some sailors in here next time?
Day 17: I can't go into this right now, but if I could, I'd tell you this...
Let me start off by saying I did nothing wrong. Zilch. I know I'm about to be accused for a lot of things, but swear to God, hand on bible and everything, this is all true and completely unintentional.
I found a phone. I still wish I left the damn thing where it was and went on with my day. Although I suppose if I did then I'd just blown up with the rest of you in a few minutes. It wasn't even some expensive, high quality smart phone. Just a crappy one with a lazy encryption of a pattern locking. I screwed around with it and drew a 'Z' in the reverse direction a normal person does it. The phone unlocked.
I flipped through it to see if I could find some information about who dropped it. No photos, just a few screenshots of texts that I didn't look to closely at. Something about a 'wedding' and a city on the water. I went into contacts and there were none saved. I was opening text history to text the first person when a call came in. Good, I'll just tell them I picked up this phone and their buddy lost it. Maybe it was the owner calling so they could get it back.
"H-"
The person on the other end spoke immediately, first yelling at me for not responding to the texts, then asked if I was ready. Panicked, I mumbled, "Um, yeah, I-"
They cut me off again, and told me to meet them.
Weird place, I thought, eyeing the ethnic grocery store. It looks like the kind of place my parents would visit to buy raw meats and Chinese vegetables. I could barely make out the name, something lucky something jade. At least I didn't stand out against the other people. I figured if they weren't going to let me talk, I'd just meet them here and explain. And curiosity gets the better of me.
A middle-aged woman, resembling many of my parents' friends, eyed me and the phone I tried to hold in clear view. She asked me if I'd like to see their tuna. Confused, I shrugged and followed her. Maybe I'll find the owner standing around here.
She leads me into a backroom, and all I can think is that it's like some crappy spy movie. Any time now, some old man will come out and say 'Oh, are you who we're waiting for?' I watch too many bad movies.
In the room a young guy, my age or a little older, is on the phone. He hangs up after I stand there awkwardly for a minute and eyes me the same way the woman did. Pretty sure I was trespassing at this point so I shove the phone out at him. He just nods.
"Yes, I'm aware you are with us. You do well with assimilation," he spoke in Chinese, and gestured at my clothing. I guess by that he meant I didn't look like a fresh off the plane Chinese tourist, kind of describes the lady who had left me in the room, though. She even had the weird plastic visor hat thing seen exclusively on older than 40 year old Chinese women.
At this point I stay silent. This is kind of stupid, actually. Part of me wonders how far the charade will go on like this. I'm curious (curiosity killed the cat) as to what I've walked in on. Some secret chicken smuggling den? Illegal workers? Man I wish it was just international students looking to work illegally.
He lays out plans on carefully detailed blue prints. I recognize the Toronto convention centre. City on the lake, I guess. He points out a position, points to me, then writes tomorrow's date and 2PM and circles it on the paper. I give a non-committal shrug/nod combination. I'm starting to wonder if this is some sort of protest. I can't imagine why, as China's new president was bridging international relationships with a passion yet seen in any of his predecessors. The president was under fire from some rich expats, though, for trying to ship them back to China. A lot of them were escaped, crooked businessmen and politician, who had embezzled their share of the money then took off for refuge in other countries so their riches would be safe.
I let the man talk at me, barely understanding the Chinese he was throwing at me. I speak Chinese fine, but he spoke with the south western accent that meant I only understood 1/3 of the one sided conversation. He stopped only to make a bowl of instant noodles. I made a face at him for that and he smiles sheepishly.
Twenty minutes later I was fidgeting. My feet hurt from standing this whole time and all I got from him was something about making our opinions heard and liberation. I assume I've been suckered into some big protest thing and sigh privately. I'll just stay home tomorrow. He finishes with a clap of his hands and looks at me directly for the first time. I recoiled. There was a maniacal glint in his eyes. A doctor would diagnose him with psychopathy; he had no touch in reality.
The lady returns, magically on time. I'm wondering if she's been hiding somewhere listening in the whole time. I'm about to mumble that I needed to go, but she grabbed me by the arm and steered me to a different room. She reaches for a jar sealed the same way my grandparents sealed preserved vegetables. Was she going to hand me pickled radishes? I blink at her, confused. She ignores me and reaches into the jar. Instead of vinegar, I catch the distinct scent of metals.
Knives. Guns. Even a hand grenade. If I wasn't terrified out of my mind I'd ask her if she kept the tanks in the other jars. She shoves the whole lot at me and looks at me expectantly. At this point I figure she'll either dice me apart or I can grab something to defend myself with.
Guns are cold. I pull my sweater sleeve down to grab a random gun. No idea what model. It's black, shaped like a gun, and has a trigger. Does that help? She nods at my choice, takes it from my hands, and shove it into my purse.
"Come with me." She didn't give me a choice and took my arm again, pulling me to the upper floors of the building. She left me in a sparse bedroom with a small window that overlooked the streets below, and took my purse. She locked the door behind her as she left.
At this point I'm in panic mode. I've somehow been enlisted into, in my mind, some sort of crazy rally thing involving weapons. I'd call the police if I had my phone. Maybe I could bang on the windows? Hang a sign up?
Half an hour later the woman comes back with two more people in tow. One a 30-something man in an expensive suit. He looked like a financial district type, complete with the metrosexual hair sported by every man in Toronto. The other was a little girl, maybe 15 or so. She avoided my eyes and parked herself beside the window.
The woman kept coming back in the course of the day and the night. I couldn't sleep, but none of the others did, either. I counted about 15 of us sitting around and all trying not to look at each other. Kind of reminds of me of the subway, actually.
At dawn the lady and the young man returned. The lady spoke this time, in unaccented Mandarin. While she spoke, the man returned an assortment of bags to us. I got my purse back, but without either of the phones. The gun was placed on top of my wallet.
At 10AM they usher us out into separate cars. They're all unremarkable. Hondas and Toyotas, all slightly used looking. In other words, the same cars that you see drive by you every day. I'm in the same car with the businessman. I had a mad desire to shove the driver and steer the car wildly to attract some sort of police attention. In retrospect I probably should have, then I wouldn't be in this situation right now.
My memory at this point is fuzzy. I think the nerves, fear and lack of sleep has something to do with that. Or maybe it was just because they went over the plan earlier, and I'm now on my way as part of a terrorist group to kill the Chinese president. I'm not sure, could be either or.
I'm only jolted out of my reverie by the crap parking job the driver did. He bumped the curb. Fucking stereotypes. I shake my head and follow the others out of the car. The business man grabs my hand firmly and starts pulling me along towards the convention centre. There's a lot of hubbub, and police cars are parked nearby. They looked relaxed, sipping coffee and chatting with passersby. I manage a weak hello before my partner tugs me away.
1:30PM. We've been walking around for a while now, taking photos, doing the usual thing. I want to grab one of the security personnels or even yell 'TERRORISTS' at the top of my lungs to let someone know what was happening. I'm afraid of triggering my buddy, though, who seems to grow twitchier as we approach 2PM. If he started firing, even randomly into the crowd, a lot of people would get hurt.
1:50PM. The delegation was pulling up. Bright red Chinese flags perched on black limos. The area has been cleared for the president to walk through. I'm standing near the end of the walkway, just inside the convention centre's doorways. It's a mark to how trusting the security details are, that they've let me stand there as if I was some fan hoping to shake the president's hand.
1:55PM. My palms are sweaty. My partner is beside me. He looks right in place with all the other suited men, but he keeps a hand in his pockets. I peeked a moment ago and saw that was where he had the grenade. Ah shit shit shit shit shit. If I yell now he might detonate it and take out half the building.
1:56PM. The president's delegation is exiting. A perk girl in a neat suit hops out, followed by the vice president. They are chatting with some Canadian officials. I eye the man beside me, and the limo of the president's opening up. Now or never.
I do the only thing I can think of, and I'm still surprised I didn't hurt any bystanders. Just to be clear, the only experience I've had with shooting were water guns before this. And even then I pretty much only managed to water the lawn.
"BOMB!" I shrieked. In the momentary confusion as security whipped around to me and the officials dove for the safety of their cars, I grabbed the gun in my purse. You think I'm going to shoot the bastard beside me, don't you? Well I would have liked to but I don't have a clue how to take the safety off. So I did the next best thing. I grabbed it like a stick and smashed it into the man's face. I know, I'm like a natural spy or something.
2:00PM. I'm lying face down on the floor, with about 200 guns pointed at me and some weight-lifting champion of a police officer holding me down. Not that I'm struggling or anything. I'm just glad their first instinct wasn't to shoot me. The Chinese delegation have been rushed off to some safe location and my businessman buddy was gone. He did leave a puddle of blood from a broken nose, though.
So yeah, that's what I would have liked to tell you at about 1:56PM yesterday, but things got a little crazy. At least no one got hurt? Well, buddy there did, but he probably deserved that for playing with a grenade and all, eh?
I don't know what else I can tell you, officers. That's the truth of it. Turns out it's pretty easy to sneak into terrorist organizations.
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