Special Delivery
By Milo Minderbinder
Sweat trickled down Michael Cortwood’s back as he steered the UPS delivery truck up the winding driveway. The truck was nearly a third full, but all the remaining packages were destined for this last address on his route.
He turned the final curve and pulled alongside the white marble steps that led to the front door of the four-story mansion. The building sported six white columns in the front and was surrounded by a well-manicured lawn and flower gardens. The East wing included a pair of gables.
Michael loaded up his hand truck and wheeled the first set of packages up a ramp adjacent to the steps. He rang the bell, but didn’t wait for anyone to answer. Upon returning with the next set of packages, the door was open. In the entrance stood a busty brunette. She wore a low-cut white blouse, black skirt and black knee-high boots. A dozen thin silver and gold bracelets adorned each wrist. She stared at Michael with intense green eyes. Eyes that seemed to look right through him, into him, as if she could see into his very soul.
With great effort he broke eye contact and glanced at the name on address label on the top package. “Been busy shopping online, Ms. Fields?” he joked.
“Call me, Tessa.” She flashed a mysterious half-smile. “No, not shopping. Just gifts from some of my fans.”
“That’s a lot of fans,” Michael said as he set down the packages.
“Indeed.” Tessa resumed her penetrating stare, and she noticed a slight buckling of the driver’s knees. “Could you be a good boy for me and bring all these boxes inside? They look awfully heavy.” She playfully fingered her hair.
Good boy? Michael’s initial reaction was to decline her request. A house this big must have servants to handle that sort of thing. And “Good boy” was positively patronizing. But he found the phrase and her soft, lilting voice pleasantly echoing in his mind.
He shrugged and carried the packages into the house, through the foyer, and laid them on the floor of a sitting room. Four more trips from his truck and all the boxes were inside.
“That’s the last of them, if I could just get your signature.” Michael held out his pad.
Tessa stepped close and he could smell her perfume, something lilac-y. “You must be awfully hot after all that work. I bet you’d like a cool drink.”
He swallowed hard, and Michael found his mouth was suddenly parched. Even inside in the air-conditioning and out of the sun, he was still sweating. “That sounds like a good idea. Yes, please.”
“All my ideas are good ideas,” said Tessa as she departed.
While he waited, Michael took a closer look around the room. Bookshelves lined three walls. He found volumes on psychology, history, neurobiology, and finance. A few shelves were dedicated to trophies. The tallest, nearly two feet in height, featured a cowgirl on a horse. The inscription read: “2012 Clark County—Under 17—Champion Barrel Racer.”
“Come sit.” Tessa had returned and parked herself on the couch. Two tall glasses of iced tea rested beside a metronome on the coffee table.
Michael sat and took the glass and drank. He planned to take a sip, but found himself gulping his entire drink.
“Refreshing isn’t it?” asked Tessa.
He gasped for air. “This is the best iced tea I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thank you.” Tessa flashed a dazzling smile.
Michael put his glass down and glanced at the metronome. “You said the packages are from your fans. Are you a musician?”
Tessa giggled. “No, not a musician. But I suppose you could say I’m a voice artist.” She reached for the metronome, her bracelets jingling, and turned it on.
Click...Click...Click...
“Voice artist? Like commercials or for animation?”
“You don’t have to ask so many questions. Just relax and try watching my metronome.” She extended a single finger with a shiny red nail and pointed at the device.
Click...Click...Click...
He started to object, but he found his eyes following Tessa’s finger to the metronome.
Click...Click...Click...
His eyes moved back and forth matching the rhythmic motion of the pendulum rod.
Click...Click...Click...
He yawned and stretched out his arms. “I really must be going.” But his eyes remained fixed on the metronome.
Click...Click...Click...
Tessa leaned forward, touched his shoulder, and in a whisper said, “Stay.”
Click...Click...Click...
Michael stayed.
“Watch my metronome. I know it feels good to do so.”
Click...Click...Click...
“Back and forth...”
Click...Click...Click...
“Just focus on it...”
Click...Click...Click...
“Don’t worry about anything else...”
Click...Click...Click...
“And if your eyelids start to feel heavy...”
Click...Click...Click...
“And you feel a little sleepy...”
Click...Click...Click...
“It’s okay to close your eyes...”
Click...Click...Click...
“You can just listen to the metronome...”
Click...Click...Click...
“Imagine it in your mind’s eye...”
Click...Click...Click...
“And let my voice...”
Click...Click...Click...
“Sink deep into your mind...”
Click...Click...Click...
“As you slowly drift off to sleep...”
Click...Click...Click...
Michael awoke with a start. It was dark. Where was he? On the floor!? But his muscles weren’t sore or tight from having slept on the hard cement. It was like he’d had the most restful sleep of his life.
He remembered sitting on a sofa and drinking iced tea, but the memory had an unreal quality to it, almost like it were a dream.
He sat up and saw what looked like a cage. And he was inside! He stood on wobbly legs and rattled the bars.
“Hello?”
“Looks like the new fellow is up,” a voice said.
Michael squinted in the darkness; there were no windows. He saw what looked like more cages, giant birdcages. The room was filled with them.
“What happened? Where am I?” asked Michael.
The guy in the closest cage said, “UPS, right?”
“Yeah,” said Michael. “I work for UPS, but what’s this all about.”
“DHL, you owe me your next five desserts. I called UPS.”
“Okay,” said a raspy voice from across the room.
“Enough!” said Michael. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the basement of Tessa’s mansion.”
“Tessa? Tessa Fields? The woman I delivered those packages to?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I brought in a bunch of boxes. Tessa asked if I would like a drink—”
“Iced tea?”
“Yeah, iced tea. I remember sitting down and there was this metronome, and I was very sleepy.”
“Metronome’s a new one.”
“Where am I? Who are you people?”
The guy in the closest cage said, “I already told you. You’re in Tessa’s basement. As for who we are? I was with FedEx.” He said to the rest of the room, “Introduce yourselves to UPS.”
“DHL.”
“United States Post Office.”
“Pacific Electric & Gas.”
“Census Bureau,” said a woman’s voice.
“Jehovah’s Witnesses.”
“I was selling magazine subscriptions.”
“UberEats,” said a young voice, maybe eighteen or twenty. “Philly-style cheese steak, curly fries and a double chocolate shake.”
“I don’t understand,” said Michael.
“We all knocked on Tessa’s door,” said FedEx. “Just like you. And we all ended up here just like you.”
“H-How long has this been going on?” asked Michael.
“Post Office has been here the longest,” said FedEx. “How long?”
“Must be close to two years,” said the mailman in a Texas accent.
“Two years?!” exclaimed Michael. “Have you tried to escape? She must have people working for her. Do they have guns? Why is she doing this?”
“I understand you have lots of questions,” said FedEx. “We all did in the beginning, But don’t worry all will be revealed in ti—”
The clicking of heels on wooden steps.
“It’s Tessa!” they cried in unison.
The sound of heels grew louder. Suddenly the cages were bathed in light, and Tessa appeared in the center of the room.
The prisoners dropped to their knees, clutched the bars of their cages, and shouted desperate pleas.
“Tessa, I adore you!”
“Tessa, I want to be your good boy!”
“I want to sleep for Tessa!”
She waved her hand, and they fell silent. “Hello my good boys and good girl. I hope you are well-rested. Lots of work to be done today: cleaning, laundry, painting, and landscaping.”
“Yes, Tessa!” they answered in unison.
“Very good.” She pulled out her iPhone and tapped. The doors to all the cages, except Michael’s swung open. “I posted your work assignments on the board in the mud room. Run along and work hard for Tessa.”
“Yes, Tessa.”
Michael looked on in disbelief, as they scrambled out of their cages and up the stairs.
Tessa sauntered over to his cage. “How are we doing today, Michael?”
He shook the bars. “Let me out of here.”
Tessa laughed. “All in good time, once you are properly conditioned.”
“You mean brainwashed like the others? Never.” He crossed his arms defiantly.
“Remember how good it felt to sleep for me?” she asked seductively.
Michael felt his heart start to race. He swallowed hard. “N-no.”
Tessa giggled. “That’s the weakest denial, I’ve ever heard. You can’t even convince yourself.” She dropped her voice an octave. “That’s just a taste of what I have in store for you. Here’s some advice: Try not to think about submitting to me.” She saw the alarm in his eyes and chuckled. “I’ll be back for you soon.”
‘Try not to think about submitting to me.’ Tessa’s words echoed in Michael’s mind as he stared helplessly at Tessa’s rocking hips as she walked away.
“Why do you do this for her?” Michael asked FedEx.
FedEx shrugged. “It feels good to obey Tessa,” he said between slurps.
“And what is that you’re drinking. I can smell it from here?”
“It’s lunch.” He held up a glass of disgusting brown liquid. “Tessa says it contains all the essential nutrients that we need. She says I don’t like real food.”
Michael shook his head in horror. “What about your life, your family, your job?”
“This is my life, my family, my job.”
“But what about before?”
FedEx paused. “I really don’t remember much from before. It can’t be that important. If it were, Tessa would let me remember.”
Michael interrogated the rest of the prisoners, but the same attitude prevailed. They had no intention or reason to escape. The group took less than ten minutes to slurp down lunch in their cages, before departing for their afternoon work assignments.
In the silence of the empty basement Michael found his thoughts returned to the words Tessa had spoken to him: ‘Try not to think about submitting to me.’
As the words played over and over in his mind, he found that the only thing he could think about was submitting to her. And the more he tried to not about not submitting, the more the idea consumed him. He was determined to fight it. He grabbed the bars, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. He summoned every remaining bit of his will and with slow deliberate words announced, “I am not going to submit to Tessa.” Even as he spoke, he felt his resolve slipping, but he must try. “I am not going to subm—”
A feminine giggle interrupted. “Sure you are!”
Michael opened his eyes and found Tessa standing outside his cage.
“Ready to come work for me,” she said with a devilish smile. “I have some mulch that needs spreading.”
Michael pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m ready to get out of here, call the cops, and put an end to this freak show.”
Tessa frowned. “That’s not very nice.”
“Kidnapping people, holding them against their will, and working them as slaves isn’t very nice, either.”
Tessa shrugged. “Each one of them is here of their own free will. If you ask, that’s what they’ll tell you.”
“I don’t know what you’ve done to them, but I’m not here of my own free will,” said a defiant Michael.
“We’ll see about that.” She produced a gold pocket watch seemingly out of thin air. “Why don’t you just watch my watch?”
“Oh, no.” Michael shook his head. “You got me before with that metronome swindle. Not falling for it a second time.” He looked away from Tessa and stared at the unpainted cinder brick walls.
“Okay,” said Tessa agreeably. “Don’t look at my watch. You certainly don’t want to see it swaying back and forth, or be intrigued by the way the light reflects off its shiny surface, or observe the second sweeping around the dial...tick...tick...tick...
“You’re very right, Michael.” Her voice was softer, quieter now. “Don’t look at my watch. If you do, you’ll fall deep into my dreamy trance. Best to not even think about my shiny, swaying, gold pocket watch. Put it totally out of your mind. That’s the only way to be safe. Tick...tick...tick...
“Don’t think about how my voice makes you feel all weak and dizzy. Don’t think about how good it feels to listen to my words. That way leads to madness. Just keep your mind blank. No thoughts of me, my voice, my watch. Just think of nothing at all. Tick...tick...tick...”
Michael gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t fall for her tricks. He’d ignore what she said. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t be tempted to look at her or the watch.
“Good idea to shut your eyes,” cooed Tessa. “You don’t want to accidently glimpse my watch. If you did, you would lose your mind. Tick...tick...tick...
“Or what if you looked into my eyes? Then it wouldn’t be your mind that was lost, but your very soul. And we wouldn’t want that would we, Michael? Tick...tick...tick...”
Michael sat on the floor of the cell with his head down. He covered his ears with his hands. Though her voice were muffled, he could still hear the rhythmic beat of Tessa’s words. He could smell her perfume, heady stuff. Was that her hot breath he felt against his cheek? Did she enter his cage to get closer to him? This could be his chance. He tensed his muscles ready to spring. He removed his hands from his ears and clenched them into fists, ready to strike.
He opened his eyes. The watch dangled before him. Beyond the watch: Tessa’s angelic countenance, her eyes as green as Ireland in the spring, lips as red as blood. She gave the watch a gentle push and Michael was frozen. All his efforts, all his desire to escape, gone with a single swing of the watch.
Tessa laughed. “That’s right my good boy, watch my watch. SLEEP! Feel yourself falling under my irresistible hypnotic spell. Spiraling downward out of control. SLEEP! Going down deeper than ever before, deeper than you ever imagined, deeper than deep, and still you keep falling. Nothing in your world but my voice. Nothing in your mind by my words. SLEEP! No more worries. No more cares. Just do as Tessa says. Feels so good to obey me and do exactly what I say. You want to be Tessa’s good boy. Nothing more important than pleasing me and making me happy. And it will make me so happy for you to go even deeper for me right now. That’s right keep going deep for Tessa. SLEEP! Your mind so open and blank for me. Desperate for my words, needing my commands, enchanted by my voice. SLEEP! Consumed with the idea of becoming my mindless drone, slaving away for your goddess and queen. And now counting down to zero and when I reach zero, you’ll be in the deepest trance possible, helpless and eager to obey me and only me.
Five...Four...Three...Two...One...Zero...SLEEP!”
Under a hot sun, Michael spread mulch around a rosebush.
“Excellent job, my good boy,” said Tessa as she walked by.
Michael dropped to his knees. “Thank you, Tessa. I am humbled and honored by the opportunity so serve.”
Tessa laughed. “Honored and humbled is correct, my good boy.”
“Yes, Tessa.” Michael beamed with pleasure.
At the sound of screeching of brakes, Tessa turned to see the UPS in the driveway. The driver stepped out and started to load up a hand truck. She nodded approvingly at the way he filled out his uniform.
Tessa grinned. “Looks like I’m going to need a bigger basement.”