Alex Barclay - The Caller

‘Tell us about the packages you get sent,’ said Joe.

‘When the dental technician is making the false teeth, the base is made of metal, then the porcelain is put on top. The metal’s been moulded in an oven, but when it comes out, it ain’t perfect, there’s bits of crud sticking out, some filing down and smoothing to do. So they use this grinding and buffing wheel that spins real fast. Little bits of metal can get everywhere. Like what I said: “grindings”, which are sort of like shavings. “Solids” are little chunks of metal, pieces of foil. “Sweeps” is what the technician might wipe down off his desk or even shake out of his hair onto a piece of paper. The stuff gets everywhere. And this gold and shit costs money. So what the technician will do is get a big envelope and throw it all in: the piece of paper, the lab coat, a cloth he had over his lap, a scrap of carpet that might have been under his bench, a sweater he was wearing, whatever. Or maybe, he’ll throw it all in to one of them fifty-five gallon paper drums.

‘And send it to a place like Trahorne’s,’ said Joe.

‘Yeah. Instead of throwing away the leftover metal, he get paid for it.’

‘’Cos what Trahorne does is refining and assaying.’

Danny frowned as he listened. Curtis looked up at him.

‘Assaying means they work out how much metal is in the package and refining is about taking it all out, separating one metal from another or whatever. This way, there’s no waste. I get the package, take out the paperwork, then I put the package onto a tray, it goes in the incinerator at 2400 degrees and everything gets nuked. All you got’s left is the metal. We weigh it, then send the lab a cheque for the amount or we pay them in coins, metal – whatever they want.’

‘This is a business that is run on trust,’ said Danny.

‘I guess so,’ said Curtis. ‘I mean, some dental techs weigh their package before they send it in on, like, bathroom scales, which isn’t very accurate. So there’s wiggle room, if you want to go that way.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Joe. ‘In Trahorne Refining, when a package came in, it went directly into the incinerator without being checked through.’

‘That’s correct.’

‘But in the lab you worked in before, you separated out these grindings, solids and sweeps.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Talk me through what happened with the package you opened.’

‘OK. The package came in from Dean Valtry’s lab in New York City. It’s a fifty-five gallon paper drum, about thirty inches high, eighteen inches across. I weighed it. Then I opened it and put everything in a big steel tray, which goes into the incinerator. I was pulling out a lot of black clothes and I found solids like I told you about, sweepings, some sheets of paper that the sweepings had been on, a piece of carpet. I’m shaking out the clothes and I see stains.’ He leaned forward. ‘And I know they’re bloodstains.’

‘So what did you do?’ said Danny.

‘I left everything and went up to Mr Trahorne’s office with one of the items, a black top with a zip in it to show him. First of all I had to wait around for him – he was in a meeting. So I sat outside his office reading a magazine.’ He shrugged. ‘Like, a half hour later, his secretary comes out to get me. She’s all, like, don’t be bothering the boss for long. So I go in and Mr Trahorne asks me what I’ve been doing for the past half hour.’ Curtis rolled his eyes. ‘So I ignore that, but I tell him what happened with the package. And he listens to me and explains about how dental technicians can get blood on things if they cut their finger on the scalpels or whatever. And I’m like, I’m not a retard: this is a lot of blood, here. And I spread the thing out on his desk, which totally pisses him off. Then he grabs the top from me, walks me back down to “my post” he calls it and throws everything in the tray, pushes it into the incinerator. Looked me right in the eye afterwards and said, “I’m not paying you to sort. Or to take time out to bother me.” I’m, like, “some dude could have got hurt.” Trahorne’s looking at me like I’m such a dirt-bag he can’t believe I’d give a shit. That pissed me off. Then, I come in a week later and he’s letting me go.’ Curtis shrugged. ‘I’ll get other work, I know that. But, you know, I’s just trying to do the right thing.’

‘Mr Trahorne says you stole from the lab.’

Curtis looked up. ‘OK, yeah I did. A little platinum foil. One time.’

‘And he says you hold a grudge towards him because he fired you.’

‘Yeah. I do.’

Danny smiled.

‘I do hold a grudge,’ said Curtis. ‘Doesn’t make me a liar.’

‘OK,’ said Joe.

‘Also,’ said Curtis, ‘I ain’t got no grudge against that Valtry lab. I don’t know them. Why would I say this shit and imprecate them?’

‘We’re not accusing you of implicating them.’

He raised his head slowly and stared Danny down. ‘I said “imprecate”. It’s a word. Look it up.’

Danny let out a breath.

Joe arrived home at 8.30 and stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, rubbing his stubbled jaw. He slipped a blade from his razor and flicked it towards the bin. It hit the wall first, then bounced onto the floor, taking some garbage with it. He bent down to pick it up and saw a scrunched-up drugstore receipt. He glanced at the two items on it: Tara’s SplashBronze tanner and something that sent his stomach into spasm: a pregnancy test. He ran his hands through the bin, looking for the box or the test. He couldn’t find them. He was about to give up, when he spotted the navy plastic cap of the test and pulled it free. Tests had changed. They now had a digital read-out. No checking symbols against a leaflet. No guessing. This one just told it like it was: PREGNANT. Shaun’s whole life flashed before his eyes. Joe checked the date on the receipt. It was a week old. Joe put down his razor and went to Shaun’s room.

‘Son, I’m going to cut to the chase here,’ he said, sitting on Shaun’s bed. Shaun swung his chair around from his desk.

‘Yeah?’

‘I hope you’re… you know… with Tara… uh, using protection.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Shaun, looking away.

‘I’m serious. You need to be careful.’

‘This is so embarrassing. What makes you think I’m not?’

‘Well, nothing. I just-’

‘Did we not have this talk, like, a few years ago?’

‘With everything that’s happened… I want to make sure you’re staying… sensible.’

‘I am… sensible.’

‘Good. Because if you’re having sex…’ He trailed off. They sat in silence.

‘I’m not,’ said Shaun eventually.

‘What?’ said Joe.

‘I’m not. We’re not, OK? I’m having a hard time… with… being close to someone.’

‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘I thought-’ He stared at the floor.

Shaun stared at the floor. ‘The first time with Katie, I never. I mean, you know, it didn’t really happen. And that’s my last memory of

… sex. If I come close to that, I freeze. Like obviously, I can get… you know… but I just don’t want to go any further…’

‘Right. Shit. OK. Do you think… I mean… are you really ready, Shaun?’

Shaun frowned.

‘You’re young, you’re only just eighteen,’ said Joe, ‘and if things had been different in your life, I’d be giving you very different advice. I mean, you can’t always separate sex from emotion, whatever you might think. You have things to work through and I’m not so sure rushing into something with another girl is the right way to go.’

‘People are gonna think I’m some kind of weirdo.’ Shaun shook his head. ‘I can’t get Katie out of my mind. Anything that makes me go back to how I felt that night, I just can’t do it. I have this same dream where I meet her in the street or in a coffee shop or whatever, she’s always with some guy and there’s this feeling of hate coming from her. I’m trying to be friendly. Then everything goes all white and when I try to reach out to her, she slips back into this fog and I don’t get to touch her. And her face is always blank. She doesn’t smile at me. All I can think of is she died probably hating me.’