Christmas Story 5 of 12

It’s a really odd thing to be in the witness protection program.
You have to uproot your whole life. Move to a different part of the country, take on a new job, a new identity. Everything changes.
I’m not really keen on the changes it’s brought me.
I’ve had to take on the persona of a business guy. Now, that doesn’t sound so bad. Wear a suit, go to work, hang around the office, have a laugh, go home. No problem right?
Except the undercover people who gave me this identity also specified some details that I’d rather not have, which is why I saw sat on the bus and loudly talking into my phone.
"So we'll ship out ten thou of them? That's great. Should see some real turn around on sales."
I felt like such an arsehole.
Why would anyone need to speak like that? Who would care what I’m telling some random person on the other end of the phone? If I’m so important why am I on the bus and not in a fancy company car?
But I had to give up the illusion.
It all started four months ago. I was a nothing really. My job was menial, I didn’t really make a huge impact on the world. But I was a nice guy.
I did good deeds, I raised money for charity. I wasn’t anything special, but I did little things to make the world nicer.
Then one night I was at work late for some reason or other and I overheard some voices. They were discussing some things which didn’t make sense. Interdimensional thingys and stuff that sounds like it’s from Star Trek.
But then they started discussing theft and murder and their plans involved both. I figured that was not a good thing and went to see the police. I figured they wouldn’t believe me since there was all the crazy stuff to begin with.
After waiting about an hour this detective came in and said we had to move quickly. Within three hours I found myself in a daze and in a limo. They told me who I had to be from now on, how I had to act, where I’d be living. I’d overheard something big and I should be worried for my life.
Still they said they were sending someone out to sort it all. Some ‘expert’. They say she used to be the best.
But until then, until some Olive fixes whatever project Arturis is about.
Until then I’m stuck as some jerk in a suit shouting in a phone, posturing to compensate for some hole in my soul.
I don’t feel safe, but I’m doing my best.
As I get off the bus I help this old lady down, she smiles real nice at me.
I may not be able to live out my life, but I can still do some things as I used to.
Strangely when I turned round the old lady had gone, I shivered in the cold wind.
I guess weird things happen wherever you go.