I had just walked in the door, coming home from work, when there was a knock on the door. ‘The doorbell works’ I thought to myself. I had put down what was in my arms but hadn’t emptied my pockets of keys, cell phone, etc.
I open the door and there’s a man standing there looking rather ominous. He’s wearing a black suit, white shirt and sunglasses. He looks a little like those stereotypical secret service guys you see on TV.
“Can I help you?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything, he just hands me an envelope. It looks just like the thousands I’ve received recently.
“What is this?” I ask. He raises his hand slightly, indicating to me that I should open the envelope. I open it slowly and read the message inside:
“Your help is needed. You will see the red sign soon”
As I look up from the page, the man in the suit has turned and begun walking down my driveway towards a stretch limo parked on the street. He gets in the passenger-side front seat and the vehicle drives away.
I am happy that the letters have stopped coming but now the mystery is even more unnerving. Why would somebody need MY help? What the hell is the red sign?
It's like when you have the hiccups -- you've cured yourself of them but you're still waiting for the next one to arrive.
A week went by – nothing. No word and no letters. I tried to look for the red sign without actually looking for it. Maybe it was somewhere in the periphery. It’s a funny thing about humans: whenever you mention a color, that’s all they see. I bought a white car about a year ago and all I saw after that were a bunch of white cars. I guess it heightens your sense of awareness about such things. Now all I see is red items everywhere I go.
A month had now passed since the guy in the suit delivered that letter:
“Your help is needed. You will see the red sign soon”
For some reason I got into my head that this might be some kind of marketing campaign. I felt like that kid in “The Christmas Story” who got the secret decoder ring to find out the secret message was a commercial.
“Oh, man” I thought “what if this is some kind of new marketing ploy to get me to buy something”. I was going to be pissed if that’s what it was.
I walked out to my car in the morning to drive to work. There was a bit of a breeze and I heard something rustling under my car. I looked all around but didn’t see anything. I stooped down so I could see underneath and I saw a plastic bag almost floating under my car. It was one of those flimsy bags you get at the grocery store. The thing that struck me is that the bag was red.
I reached underneath the car and plucked the bag out of the air. On the side of the bag in black letters was “Tucker’s”, the name of the local grocery store. I made a quick call to the office to let them know I was going to be late -- I had to make a trip to the grocery store.
I pulled into the parking lot of the store to find it eerily empty. It was just a few minutes before 8:00 in the morning and the store didn’t open until 10:00. I walked up to the glass windows to see if anyone was inside but I didn’t see any movement. I accidentally stepped on the pad outside that opens the automatic doors…
… And they opened!
“Hello!?” I shouted in the door. It echoed. No one responded. I stepped back and the doors closed again. As I stepped back on the pad the doors didn’t open.
About that time I heard a car pull into the lot and it parked on the side of the building, away from the door. A minute later a man walked around the corner wearing khaki’s, a blue vest and a white shirt. He was tall and thin with dark black hair and dark rimmed glasses.
“Can I help you?” he asked. I held the red bag up a bit and all I got out was “Well, I …” when he said “Oh, the red sign. Right”. I was a bit taken aback. He reached in his pocket and pulled a wad of keys out and began to unlock the door. As he stepped on the pad, the door opened and he was quite shocked by this.
“Damn it” he said. “Sorry, Jerry, my night manager, must have forgotten to lock the door. C’mon in”. He walked to the front office and entered some kind of code. The alarm system chirped and he seemed satisfied that it was off. I had walked to where the check-out lines were, still quite dazed.
“We’re going to want to head to the back of the store” he yelled from the elevated platform. “Let me grab the key and we’ll be on our way”. He started humming to himself as he searched for the key.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“Sure” he said, continuing to hunt “what’s that?”
“Well… what IS the red sign? I mean, why me? What am I doing here?”
“I’m not sure how to answer your question. How did you hear about the red sign?”
“It’s a funny thing” I began “I started getting these letters in the mail…”
“Right. You get them by the boatload, all saying the same thing – don’t look for the red sign, blah blah blah…” he said.
“That’s right!” I said. I almost felt a sense of relief that maybe this was all going to make sense.
“Ah ha!” he announced, “found the key”. He made his way down from the elevated office and walked to the front door. He turned the knob to lock the automatic doors from the inside so they wouldn't open, then he headed for the back of the store. We walked down the aisle with a lot of dry goods and I saw these little tags sticking out that said “Tuckers: Red Sign Savings”.
That thought about a marketing ploy entered my head again and I stopped in the middle of the aisle.
“Wait!” I almost shouted “is this some kind of sales pitch?”
He stopped just in front of me and turned around. “What do you mean?” he asked. I tapped one of the little signs that mentioned the red sign savings. He smiled, turned and kept on walking.
“It has nothing to do with that, I promise”. He almost laughed when he said that. I walked a few more steps as he had reached the door.
“Okay, wait a minute” I said, “I’m not moving another inch until somebody tells me what in the hell is going on”. He turned to me and said “It’s the red sign”. He said it in a way that made me feel like the answer was obvious. Kind of like ‘it’s the red sign, stupid!’
“I don’t know what that is” I told him.
“Then why did you come all this way?” he asked me.
“All WHAT way? My house is 5 blocks down the street”
“Oh” he says “that makes it convenient”. He walked through the swinging double doors and disappeared into the back of the store.
"Wait, I –" was all I got out. I got to the double doors and looked through the window. It looked like what you might find at any grocery store: boxes of product, a door to a big freezer, storage shelving, and a big rolling shipping door. I cautiously stepped through one of the doors. I didn’t see him anywhere. He poked his head around one of the large storage racks “This way”.
We walked to the back corner of the stockroom and I saw three doors: The Men’s room, The Ladies room and an unmarked door. He reached into his pocket for the wad of keys again and started to unlock the unmarked door.
As he opened the outer door I could see a gated fence in front, like an industrial elevator. He pulled back the fence to reveal that it was, in fact, an elevator. He held back the gate and said “red sign, this way”.
With an uneasy feeling in my stomach, I got into the elevator. I crumpled up the plastic bag I was holding and stuffed it in my pocket. He closed the gate and pressed the button with a ‘down arrow’ on it. With the whir of a motor, we made our way down.
(To be continued)
I open the door and there’s a man standing there looking rather ominous. He’s wearing a black suit, white shirt and sunglasses. He looks a little like those stereotypical secret service guys you see on TV.
“Can I help you?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything, he just hands me an envelope. It looks just like the thousands I’ve received recently.
“What is this?” I ask. He raises his hand slightly, indicating to me that I should open the envelope. I open it slowly and read the message inside:
“Your help is needed. You will see the red sign soon”
As I look up from the page, the man in the suit has turned and begun walking down my driveway towards a stretch limo parked on the street. He gets in the passenger-side front seat and the vehicle drives away.
I am happy that the letters have stopped coming but now the mystery is even more unnerving. Why would somebody need MY help? What the hell is the red sign?
It's like when you have the hiccups -- you've cured yourself of them but you're still waiting for the next one to arrive.
A week went by – nothing. No word and no letters. I tried to look for the red sign without actually looking for it. Maybe it was somewhere in the periphery. It’s a funny thing about humans: whenever you mention a color, that’s all they see. I bought a white car about a year ago and all I saw after that were a bunch of white cars. I guess it heightens your sense of awareness about such things. Now all I see is red items everywhere I go.
A month had now passed since the guy in the suit delivered that letter:
“Your help is needed. You will see the red sign soon”
For some reason I got into my head that this might be some kind of marketing campaign. I felt like that kid in “The Christmas Story” who got the secret decoder ring to find out the secret message was a commercial.
“Oh, man” I thought “what if this is some kind of new marketing ploy to get me to buy something”. I was going to be pissed if that’s what it was.
I walked out to my car in the morning to drive to work. There was a bit of a breeze and I heard something rustling under my car. I looked all around but didn’t see anything. I stooped down so I could see underneath and I saw a plastic bag almost floating under my car. It was one of those flimsy bags you get at the grocery store. The thing that struck me is that the bag was red.
I reached underneath the car and plucked the bag out of the air. On the side of the bag in black letters was “Tucker’s”, the name of the local grocery store. I made a quick call to the office to let them know I was going to be late -- I had to make a trip to the grocery store.
I pulled into the parking lot of the store to find it eerily empty. It was just a few minutes before 8:00 in the morning and the store didn’t open until 10:00. I walked up to the glass windows to see if anyone was inside but I didn’t see any movement. I accidentally stepped on the pad outside that opens the automatic doors…
… And they opened!
“Hello!?” I shouted in the door. It echoed. No one responded. I stepped back and the doors closed again. As I stepped back on the pad the doors didn’t open.
About that time I heard a car pull into the lot and it parked on the side of the building, away from the door. A minute later a man walked around the corner wearing khaki’s, a blue vest and a white shirt. He was tall and thin with dark black hair and dark rimmed glasses.
“Can I help you?” he asked. I held the red bag up a bit and all I got out was “Well, I …” when he said “Oh, the red sign. Right”. I was a bit taken aback. He reached in his pocket and pulled a wad of keys out and began to unlock the door. As he stepped on the pad, the door opened and he was quite shocked by this.
“Damn it” he said. “Sorry, Jerry, my night manager, must have forgotten to lock the door. C’mon in”. He walked to the front office and entered some kind of code. The alarm system chirped and he seemed satisfied that it was off. I had walked to where the check-out lines were, still quite dazed.
“We’re going to want to head to the back of the store” he yelled from the elevated platform. “Let me grab the key and we’ll be on our way”. He started humming to himself as he searched for the key.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“Sure” he said, continuing to hunt “what’s that?”
“Well… what IS the red sign? I mean, why me? What am I doing here?”
“I’m not sure how to answer your question. How did you hear about the red sign?”
“It’s a funny thing” I began “I started getting these letters in the mail…”
“Right. You get them by the boatload, all saying the same thing – don’t look for the red sign, blah blah blah…” he said.
“That’s right!” I said. I almost felt a sense of relief that maybe this was all going to make sense.
“Ah ha!” he announced, “found the key”. He made his way down from the elevated office and walked to the front door. He turned the knob to lock the automatic doors from the inside so they wouldn't open, then he headed for the back of the store. We walked down the aisle with a lot of dry goods and I saw these little tags sticking out that said “Tuckers: Red Sign Savings”.
That thought about a marketing ploy entered my head again and I stopped in the middle of the aisle.
“Wait!” I almost shouted “is this some kind of sales pitch?”
He stopped just in front of me and turned around. “What do you mean?” he asked. I tapped one of the little signs that mentioned the red sign savings. He smiled, turned and kept on walking.
“It has nothing to do with that, I promise”. He almost laughed when he said that. I walked a few more steps as he had reached the door.
“Okay, wait a minute” I said, “I’m not moving another inch until somebody tells me what in the hell is going on”. He turned to me and said “It’s the red sign”. He said it in a way that made me feel like the answer was obvious. Kind of like ‘it’s the red sign, stupid!’
“I don’t know what that is” I told him.
“Then why did you come all this way?” he asked me.
“All WHAT way? My house is 5 blocks down the street”
“Oh” he says “that makes it convenient”. He walked through the swinging double doors and disappeared into the back of the store.
"Wait, I –" was all I got out. I got to the double doors and looked through the window. It looked like what you might find at any grocery store: boxes of product, a door to a big freezer, storage shelving, and a big rolling shipping door. I cautiously stepped through one of the doors. I didn’t see him anywhere. He poked his head around one of the large storage racks “This way”.
We walked to the back corner of the stockroom and I saw three doors: The Men’s room, The Ladies room and an unmarked door. He reached into his pocket for the wad of keys again and started to unlock the unmarked door.
As he opened the outer door I could see a gated fence in front, like an industrial elevator. He pulled back the fence to reveal that it was, in fact, an elevator. He held back the gate and said “red sign, this way”.
With an uneasy feeling in my stomach, I got into the elevator. I crumpled up the plastic bag I was holding and stuffed it in my pocket. He closed the gate and pressed the button with a ‘down arrow’ on it. With the whir of a motor, we made our way down.
(To be continued)