A few days later, I had a call from Janet telling me she’d gone back into the greenhouse and made a discovery: I should come straight over. I thought perhaps she’d found the Bukh, and got in my car. But when I arrived she told me she and her brother, Donny, had been snooping around the little shed and discovered a letter that must have slipped behind the desk and the wall unnoticed. We sat down in Victor’s old waiting room to examine it.
The letter was handwritten from a man named Eric Schindler, who lived in Toronto. Since Schindler was my maiden name, I was totally transfixed. “Dear Victor,” it began:
I have reason to be worried about the matter we discussed when you visited last December. Ralph has gotten in touch with me to say that activity has increased on the part of those fools at the agency and you need to be very careful moving forward. I don’t believe it’s time to explore the properties of the item in question unless with great stealth. Remember the hundredth monkey principle? I have fear of consequences where you are concerned, so it might be best to attempt plan b. The foundation agrees. I needn’t tell you to destroy this after reading.
With warm regards,
He hadn’t destroyed the letter, which was dated May 5, 2006 and posted in Toronto. While we were bent over it, Donny arrived with a bag of groceries. Was he a permanent fixture now? It turned out he was, at least for the time being, because his girlfriend in New Orleans, where he’d been living, had kicked him out, and he had nowhere to go. “It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with my sis,” he said, grinning at Janet. He didn’t look like a man in distressed circumstances. His clothes were neat and tidy, and he had on that gold link bracelet, nice huarache sandals, a leather belt, and clean khakis. On his face he wore a big smile, and his eyes crinkled up warmly when he saw me. I didn’t know a thing about him but instinctively felt safe in his presence. “What do you think of that letter?” he said, sitting down on the couch between me and Janet.
“It doesn’t tell much, other than he’s in danger and should stop what he’s doing and do something else,” I said.
“Hundredth Monkey Principle? I wonder what that’s about,” Donny said.
“That he was going to come up with an herb or cure that would spread like wildfire through the population?” I suggested. “Obviously that would put him in danger if the drug companies were researching similar medications. What do you think, Janet? Ring any bells?”
I figured since she had worked for a pharmaceutical company, she might have some answers. But all she said was, “Plan B. I wonder what that means.”
To be continued…
Cover photo ~ http://changingcourse.com/2015/11/25/thanksgiving-in-the-bathroom/