The final secret [Short Story]
Approx. 12-minute read
My phone alarm sounds. That same alarm sound I have grown to hate. The one the person in front of you in the grocery isle uses as their ring tone. I have not cared enough lately to change it. I have not cared about anything besides this day. Reaching down to the floor to grab my phone from where it must have vibrated off the end table, I pick it up and silence my alarm.
I sit up in my bed. It is still dark out, but the light from the high rises next door shines into the window of my tiny apartment. The bright lighting always makes my arms look more toned than I they really are.
Even at 4:30 a.m. I can hear the honking of car horns and the roaring of semi-truck engines, frantically making their way to their destinations. “The city that never sleeps,” I say under my breath. “Well, city, I would like to sleep. Yet here I am again, another sleepless night.”
I haven’t thought about much besides this day for awhile now. How could I? Today everything changes. Today, everyone learns. Today, the world finds out what really happened. I should not have waited this long. I should have gotten it off my chest right away, but for some reason I kept finding myself going back to keeping the secret.
Standing from my bed, I make my way to the bathroom to get ready. I put on some lo-fi music and hop in the shower. Just because today is the beginning of a new life for me, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a hot shower with some of my favorite music on. Brushing my teeth in the shower started out as a way to save time in the morning, but now I wouldn’t want to do it any other way. I never understood why it made my mouth feel more minty, but I have come to love that feeling and never feel as fresh brushing them in the sink. I drift off in my thoughts.
RIIIIINNNGGG. I snap back to reality. I must have forgotten to turn my “oh-my-god-wake-up” alarm off, I think to myself. I reach out and grab my phone, and notice it’s not an alarm, but a phone call. It’s Sarah. She is the only one who knows my secret. She’s the only one who knows why today changes everything.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, it’s Sarah, well I guess you know that. It is 2026 after all, and I know what type of phone you have. Well, I mean the type of phone we both have. Now that I think about it haven’t you had the same phone for like 5 years now? You gotta upgrade, you dinosaur! Anyways, I’m rambling. How did you sleep?”
I chuckle. “I didn’t. I couldn't.”
“I don’t blame you,” Sarah said. “I think I got a total of twenty minutes of sleep about seven hours ago!” She said in her sarcastically cheerful voice. “Listen Jack, I was thinking about it all night...”
“Don’t hurt yourself!” I say, trying to slow my racing mind with a playful joke.
“Shut up! As I was saying, I was thinking about it all night, and maybe you don’t tell the world. Maybe you don’t tell anyone, and the secret stays just between us. I mean, what if it never even happened in the first place. You could have dreamt it; it could just be a…”
“Sarah,” I interrupt. I pull back my phone to see what time it is. 5:08 a.m. “I assure you it was real. Every bit of it. It’s time for me to pass this along; to get it off my chest. I’m tired of it being my problem. Besides, I already scheduled the meeting with the news reporters at the park at 6 o’clock.”
“I know I know. You know I believe you,” Sarah reassures me, although at times it feels like she is trying to reassure herself. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. What if you get in trouble? What if... what if THEY come back? What if…”
“I’m through with what if!” I shout. “You think I haven’t thought what if? Do you really think I haven’t been over this a thousand times in my head, spiraling for the last 10 years?”
“Jack, I…” She stammers.
“I need you to trust me Sarah, like you have always done. I need you to trust that I am doing the right thing, even if I may not trust myself. Can you do that for me? Please?”
“Absolutely I can, and I will. I’m sorry," she says quietly.
"Anyways I’m five minutes away," she says. "Meet me downstairs? We can grab a coffee before we head over to the park, together.”
“You don’t have to come with me.” A sudden pain of guilt shoots through my chest. I shouldn’t be so short with my only friend. My best friend. She never holds it against me either. She’s much better than I deserve.
“Stop talking you idiot and meet me downstairs.” I hear her chuckle as she ends the call.
I turn the shower off, realizing I didn’t even really wash. I guess I had just kind of stood in the hot water. I step out, slipping in the puddle I left on the bathroom floor, but catching myself on the side of the tub. Once I’m dry, I grab the clothes off the sink that I set out the night prior. “The hardest part of getting up in the morning is finding the clothes to wear for the day. Do it the night before,” I frequently tell myself, and anyone else who would listen. But that wouldn't ring true today.
I quickly dress in a pair of black joggers I wear probably three times per week, along with a grey T-shirt that used to fit me a lot better. “No shame,” I tell myself. “It is bulking season after all.” I slip on my white and black checkered vans and hurry out the door.
Sixty-three floors always seems to go by much faster than I realize, leaving me standing there in la-la land when the elevator doors open. Right across the hall from the elevator, there is a little café my apartment complex rents out to a local business owner. I think they own three or four of these café style restaurants, though I’m told this one is the first and the best.
I see Sarah immediately. Her brown hair bounces as the waves at me. She somehow looks as though she just stepped out of a professional hair salon, though judging by the time, I know that’s impossible.
She’s sitting at one of three tables in the cafe: the one closest to the counter, as usual. We get breakfast together every Saturday. Same table. Same coffees. Same meals. I get 3 eggs, over medium, a piece of wheat toast, two strips of bacon, and a black coffee. Sarah gets an egg white omelet, with cheese and spinach. It never sounds good, and it never grows on me.
I sit in my usual seat, breathing a quiet sigh. She just looks at me, and smiles.
“I ordered for the both of us,” she says. “And also, I lied, I’ve been down here for twenty minutes, I just didn’t want to rush you.”
“And also also, I trust you are doing the right thing by telling them. By telling the world. I mean, everyone has a right to know. And of course they’ll believe you. Why wouldn’t they? What could you possibly gain from this? But... but what if you waited just a little longer?” She shrinks in her chair.
“The only thing I plan on gaining this morning, is my ability to sleep at night, and the weight of the world off my chest. I am sick of keeping this to myself.” I pause, as the waitress brings our food and drinks out. She smiles and backs away, without saying a word. I think even she knows our regular weekly order.
“What do you think they will ask you?” Sarah whispers. “I mean, they will probably have so many questions.”
“I have no idea, but I am ready to answer all of them.”
“Sarah,” I say. She looks at me.
“Thank you.” I smile, as I sip my fresh coffee, trying to savor the moment.
We finish our meals in silence, exchanging smiling glances, enjoying this moment, wishing for 6 a.m. to never come.
I look at my watch; 5:48. “Well, let’s get this over with,” I say. She agrees. We both stand up, and I throw $25 down on the table, making eye contact with the waitress. “Keep the change dear,” I say to her, as we make our way to the door.
We step out onto the sidewalk. It’s probably 65 degrees outside, with a very soft breeze, barely noticeable. The aroma of vehicle fumes, dog piss, and the cooking oils from the Burger King next door fill the air. I love the smell of city in the morning, I think to myself.
“Let’s go start the beginning of your new life,” Sarah says.
We arrive at the park within minutes. The walk is quick, three blocks down, and across the street. As soon as we approach, I see the news team already. A team of three. Two scrawny men in sweatpants, I’m assuming to work the camera and audio equipment, and an older gentleman in a suit. I assume he will be the one conducting the interview with me.
I notice there are no chairs and no lights. The closer we get, the more tired the interviewer appears. “He must not be an early riser,” I whisper to Sarah. I don’t know what I expected, a stage with Oprah on it? With lights and a crowd?
“Good morning,” the man says, offering his hand for a handshake. “I’m Robert, pleased to meet you. You must be Jake. Oh! And you are?” He says, looking at Sarah.
“This is Sarah, she is my best friend, and she’s the only person on the planet that knows what I am about to tell you,” I say to Robert, accepting his handshake.
“Well, I’m sure we are in for a treat,” Robert says, glancing back at his team. “I hope you two are okay with standing,” he says.
“Whatever works for you, works for us Mr. Robert.” Sarah chimes in, using a tone that could easily be confused with that of a conversation at a drunk mom’s book club.
Again, how can she be so chipper in a moment like this. I feel slightly annoyed but quickly shake the thought.
“Well, let’s get to it then!” Robert exclaims. “I’ve got another interview at seven.”
“You may want to look into canceling that one Robert,” I tell him. “This news is going to be well worth your time, and I imagine you will have some follow-up questions.”
“Well Jack, start us off,” Robert says.
I take a deep breath, exchanging glances with Sarah. She gives me a reassuring nod. I begin.
“It was 10 years ago to the day, Mr. Robert,” I begin. “I was forty-two years young at the time, and I had recently been hired on as a truck driver, delivering rental cars to and from different rental car facilities. Mainly driving rental cars back to their facilities. A lot of one-way rentals in that area. Most of the cars were used in delivering… illegal goods.”
“Drugs,” stated Robert. “Trust me, I know what location my hobbies come from,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, drugs. Anyways, I was hauling some of these vehicles back down to Albuquerque. It was about 2 a.m. and I had been driving for about ten hours. After three visits to the rumble strip, I needed to pull off to rest. I find a fuel station about a mile off the highway on my G.P.S. and figured I would fuel up and sleep there for a few hours Then I could wake up bright and early and get to the facility before traffic started to hit. Routine stuff.”
“This story is blowing my mind,” says Robert. His tone slightly off-putting. He disappointedly looks towards Sarah. He looks back at his two tech minions, who have been exchanging whispers in each other’s ears, and then looks back at me. “Will the good part be coming soon, or do I get to hear more about life on the road?”
“Oh, it’s coming, Mr. Robert,” Sarah chimed in.
“So anyways, I take my exit, and make the first right, just like my G.P.S. says. The fuel station should be less than a mile down the road, right? I get to where it says it’s supposed to be, and nothing. Not even an empty parking lot. Mind you I’m in an 18-wheeler. But this G.P.S. has me on a 2-lane road, leaving me no room to turn around. My only choice is to keep driving until another crossroad comes up or something that I can turn around on.” Robert sighs, but I ignore it and continue on, now with more urgency and my voice wavering slightly.
“I kid you not, I drive on that road for ten more miles trying to find a spot to turn around. Wide awake at this point as you could imagine and pissed off beyond belief, I finally stumble upon a dirt lot big enough for me to turn around in. Just like that I’m on my way back to the highway.” I swear I see Mr. Robert nod off in the middle of the interview, which makes my blood boil. I bite my tongue.
“Ten miles there, it should be ten miles back to the highway, right? Wrong. I was driving for 45 minutes, my G.P.S. had stopped working. No, I had no service at all. What kind of truck driver was I not to have a single map in the cab? But why would I need one? I ran this route all the time, and I didn’t take any other turns besides to get off the highway. Every hill I crested, I figured I would see the highway, but it never came. I pulled off to the side of the road starting to panic. Trying to call someone, anyone, but still no cell service. I was low on fuel, no service, not even a gallon of water in my truck.”
“That was when I realized, I hadn’t seen a single other vehicle the entire time. Not one!”
Robert flinches ever so slightly as I raise my voice. I’m starting to shout by this point and try to calm myself down. Sarah seems to notice this and grabs my hand squeezing it as if to say, it’s okay.
“I look over my right shoulder and that’s when I see it. A plane, like one you would see at one of those military air shows. Except this one was hovering like 100 feet in the air, and completely silent. It was hovering over a clearing in the forest next to me, and within a second it was right on top of me.”
Robert straightened his back. Was that a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
“What?” I challenge. “No wise jokes to crack now?”
“Please continue with your story, Mr. Jack.” His voice deepens.
“Alright, you asked for it. One second, the “plane” was above the clearing and the next second, it was right above me, and the next, I swear to you, I was inside of it. No beam of light like in the movies, just poof. I was standing in a room. There was no way the “plane” I saw had space for a room this big in it. It was like I was in the middle of a dark football field. I was immediately greeted by people. Not by little green aliens, but by people. They looked very official. Dressed in red and black suits, sunglasses, the whole nine yards. I was standing there, and then they started to ask me questions…”
“Say no more Mr. Jack. Let me ask you, is this a joke to you?” Robert says calmly.
“Not a joke. This is all very real and you are the first person I am sharing this with besides Sarah.” I glance over at her. Suddenly she looks different. Is that a look of defeat on her face?
“Mr. Jack, I’ll ask you again. Are you sure this is what you saw? Could it have been a normal military plane flyover, or a hot air balloon? Maybe you found some of those drugs leftover in one of those rentals and were having a good time?”
“I was not on drugs, and it was very real,” I say defensively.
Wait. I think to myself. When did Sarah let go of my hand? I turn to look at her and she’s gone. I look back at the camera crew, who have stopped recording the interaction and are now just watching. I notice the colors of Roberts suit. Red and black.
“You were never supposed to be there,” I spin around to meet Sarah’s voice.
“You were never supposed to see any of that,” Sarah says. “I was able to keep you from telling anyone for as long as I could. They told me to silence you 10 years ago, right when it happened. Right when you told me, but I told them I could keep you from telling anyone. And then you got this idea that the world needed to know. So, you scheduled this big whistleblower meeting with the “news” team here and ruined everything!”
She has tears streaming down her face as she reaches into her purse. “I tried Jack, I really tried. I love you, maybe even more than a friend. But you left me no choice.”
She pulls a phone out of her purse. Wait. That’s not a phone. “Sarah, what do you mean you love me?”
She raises her arm towards me, and pulls the trigger.
The world goes dark.
This is my first posted short story on here. Thanks a lot for reading. Please feel free to reach out with any recommendations or just to give your thoughts!