The Game Part 2

This is part of a series. If you haven't already, you should start from the beginning.



      I shift from one foot to the other. Frank is taking too long. If we are going to call the cops, we need to do it now, before this guy gets too far. Olga must have assured him that it is okay, but hearing it second hand from Frank isn’t enough. I am pretty sure that I have just given my car to an entrepreneurial chop shop representative with the brilliant front of running a professional scavenger hunt mystery thing. I listen to the ipod. Hah. Song 2. Blur. Well, that’s the song, isn’t it? Historically, when I have heard that song on my way out, wildest times have ensued. Not much of a clue though. I hand the ipod to frank, and he listens to it. I listen again. We look at the rest of the clue. The envelope is number 4, we only have 2 so far. Voice must have given us the wrong clue! “That guy was kind of an asshole, huh?” “Yeah” The envelope also has some numbers and letters on it.

Find:
PS 3562.426
B6851256
1991x

      I puzzled on the possibility of it being a cipher of some sort, but the numbers didn’t make sense in a 26 letter alphabet. Maybe PS stood for public school? Frank and I handed it back and forth, some lady in the alley was staring at us. She must have liked my scarf.. We started by walking to the school north of Washington Square. After walking around it, we determined that it was not a public school. Frank thinks the first numbers might be a street number, Voice had mentioned that the alley we pulled into wasn’t the original place he meant to go. “Hey the parking meters have numbers on them!” “Hey maybe we need to go to 1991 beacon street!” Three blocks up beacon… “No way it would be like ten more blocks and doesn’t sound right, let’s go back.” He dials Voice’s number. Voice tells him to fuck himself. We no longer have any doubts, Voice is an asshole, maybe I should double check on my car. “Give me your phone dude, I am pretty sure that guy stole my car. Thanks, hey how do I dial this thing?” Olga answers “what.” “Olga are you absolutely certain that-“ “Don’t call me unless it is an emergency” “But-“ “Is it an emergency?” “no but” “Don’t call unless it is an emergency!” “But he took my ca-“ *click* Frank to the rescue, “Hey lets go to Starbucks and get some coffee while we figure out this clue” I quickly agree. I have been walking through slush and my feet feel like frozen cube steaks.

      Five minutes later, sitting in a crowded coffee shop with a quad espresso, sharing a table with two unrelated college students, frank and I pass the ipod back and forth again. This time, Frank reports a voice at the end. I listen. There is a phone number. “Can I use your phone again?” Frank has to dial, because I have chosen to remain ignorant in the ways of blackberry usage.

“Boston Double Lick Pie Eatery”
“hi, this is Max”
“What?”
“Max Maclaren, I am supposed to arrange a meeting with you?”
“I think you have the wrong number”
“Oh I don’t think so, you see my car was stolen and I am quite certain this number is correct”
“This is not the police; this is the Boston Public Library”
“Oh the library. OH. Okay. Thank you!”

      I hang up. The number on the back must be one of those Dewey Decimals I keep hearing about. After discussing it with Frank, we agree to go to the Boston public library in Copley Square. The college kid at our table confirms that it is a call number. I thank him sincerely. We head for the green line. This conclusion has taken us just over an hour. We really nailed that first task though, so we guess that we are only a few minutes behind.

      On the subway Frank figures out that the phone number only plays in one ear of the headphones, we had both been listening on the right ear. As if to prevent us from having time for slapping our foreheads, I receive my first compliment on my unique headwear. An older woman on the T looks at me, “Nice bunny ears!” I model them for her graciously. “Do you have the tail to match?” I start wishing I had a tail, “I wish I did!” We jump off at Copley Square, and walk into the library. I’m rushing in, and frank is a few paces behind, taking care of the “thinking about what we are doing” task. We interrogate the woman at the front desk, who does an excellent job keeping an almost straight face while talking to me, about the call number. She sends us to nonfiction, a few buildings back. This place is huge, and we have to stop at another information desk before we find the book described. It is in the Croatian section.

      There is a man with grocery bags here, I can’t help but think he must be the next plant. He doesn’t make eye contact, or say anything, so I move into his field of vision. He continues to ignore me, so I turn toward the bookshelf. Frank has already located the book, “The Bourne Ultimatum” in Croatian. Frank takes the clue out of the book and I give him a hard time for losing the place it was marking. I check to see if the guy with the grocery bags is doing anything yet. I am on to you, CRS corporation! Frank lets me bust the clue open.

“Become alert at the next stop.

Luckily, the Seattle corporation

has taken over the world, go to a

close ivy league street.”

      The envelope contains a ripped corner of a photograph. A TJMaxx sign with the ‘T’ and ‘J’ cut off. MAX! (that’s me). “There is a TJMaxx in Copley!” “There are ivy league streets everywhere in Boston, there is probably one around Copley, let’s go! No need to double check that answer!” This dialogue may differ slightly from what we originally said to each other, but after a bunny eared walk through Copley Square, and a quick comparison of TJMaxx signs, and a brief reading of street signs, Frank and I determine that use of Google maps is a viable strategy for confirmation of directions in any case in which you are less than 95% certain of the way. The exact formula is E = 2(P * T), where T is time to arrive at expected destination in minutes, P is Certainty of directions and if E is more than 2, then maybe spending 2 minutes to Google the directions is not a waste of time!

      After Googling the TJMaxx back up on Harvard ave off Commonwealth, we haul our asses back to the green line and take the B up Comm ave. People stare in awe as I march my bunny ears up Harvard Avenue.

TO BE CONTINUED!