Tuesday, December 11, 2007

(254)

Normally, this story would show us, ironically, what a great life Carpenter had before he was killed. It would show us all of the fanciful or heroic things that he had done before he was shot point blank in the back of a dark and loud Goth club.
But carpenter was no extraordinary man. He was no leader, no hero. Carpenter was the best type of man- the kind that followed orders, kept his mouth shut, and kept things running smoothly. Carpenter was a cog in a greater machine that made cogs. He wasn’t insignificant, but he could be replaced without thought. The simple fact was Carpenter was invisible.
He wasn’t noticed by the neighbors at the apartment he occasionally called home. He never ate at home; he always went to a small Chinese restaurant a block from his home and always ordered the Mongolian beef and two spring rolls- one veggie and one pork.
There were no decorations in his apartment, only his clothes, a gun, and a television set. He didn’t have cable.
All carpenter had was a job and a dream. His job was secret to all but those that he worked for, and those he worked above never even learned his name.
His dream was a secret only known to himself and to his one friend, Joe.
Carpenter waited at the club that night for his friend Joe to arrive and meet his new team. He knew that Joe would do good things with the young agents. Joe had a knack for taking people away from their weaknesses and making them into great men. Joe’s job was even more of a secret than Carpenter’s but whatever it was that he did, he did well.
He saw Joe enter the club and he nodded in his direction.
“There he is,” he said to the young agents.
“There is the man that holds the future in his hands.”

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