Club Dead

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The Spy

Carrie Unser handed me a note, this time a personal one.

“Sit down Carrie.” I unfolded the note. “Who wrote this?”

Carrie said nothing.

“Carrie, why won’t you answer me?”

“I’m practicing silence.”

“A very good ambition. I may try as well. Are you serious? There’s a spy in Club Dead?”

Carrie Unser looked at the note.

“Who wrote this?”

Carrie stared hard in my eyes.

“Write something.” I handed Carrie a notebook and pen.

I compared the writing.

“You wrote this note.”

Carrie smiled.

“And you know who it is.”

Carrie looked around.

“I don’t know who it is, and I don’t really care. But since you revealed this much, I figure you would like for me to know who attends our meetings as a spy.”

Carrie looked at my plastic bag of skinless petit carrots.

“You want to me to find out on my own.”

Carrie raised both her eyebrows.

“But Carrie, I don’t care.”

Carrie Unser’s eyes jumped from the top of her sunglasses. I think she frowned.

“Why should I?”

Carrie scratched her head.

“Because she is spying for someone. And that someone is whom I should care about.”

Carrie Unser got up and walked from the cafeteria. She did silence very well.

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