The Non-adventures of Agent Smith... and Other Tales

THE NON-ADVENTURES OF AGENT SMITH

  and other tales

  By Jean Christensen

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  Published by:

  Copyright (c) 2014 by Jean Christensen

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  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  THE IMPORTANCE OF EATING FRUIT

  OO-KI

  SASKATCHEWAN

  SATAN AND THE BUM

  TOO MUCH LOVE

  A FLEETING MOMENT

  THE MAN WHO LIKED EVERYTHING

  A HORRID LITTLE GIRL

  WRONG ADDRESS

  Agent Smith had been investigating some obscure incident for six weeks now. The matter was of little importance and, to put it quite bluntly, so was Agent Smith. And he really didn’t care, nor did anyone else. It was all the same to him: a good way to collect his check at the end of the week while passing the time without doing much, (or as little as possible).

  One afternoon, Captain Wright zoomed up to Smith’s desk and announced: “I’m taking you off your case, Smith. We came up with another case, even less important and figured you were the man for the job.”

  “Sounds good to me, Captain,” replied Smith. And that was the end of Smith’s previously unsolved case.

  *****

  Agent Smith entered Captain Wright’s office and dropped his finished report on the desk. “Finished: you were right about that,” he announced.

  Wright stirred up his memory, trying to remember what unimportant case he had put Smith on three weeks ago. “Oh, yeah. It was about the guys on the second floor suspecting someone was tampering with their computers. So, you came up with something?”

  “Yes. I’ve been doing my research and asking around. Positive confirmation; it’s all down in my report.”

  “And?”

  “No doubt about it, sir. The guys on the second floor definitely do suspect that someone is tampering with their computers.”

  Captain Wright let out a short sigh. “Oh…uh… good job Smith. I’ll get back to you later.”

  *****

  - THE IMPORTANCE OF EATING FRUIT -

  John thumbed on the TV, not really recalling the days when televisions were “turned” on. He was not what you’d call an avid TV viewer and he hadn’t even melted down yet into his couch when the voice of a very healthy-looking young man blared in: “…So remember… Have a KIWI right now. ”

  This was more than enough matter for thought, so John pushed once again on the red button of his remote control and his TV drifted back into a neutral world of its own. But not John.  ”Now that’s an idea!” he observed as he fondly thought of his girlfriend.

  No, it wasn’t that a cut kiwi could evoke some sort of green extra-terrestrial anus or any sexual orifice. It was simpler than that. John’s girlfriend, Randita, had loaded him up with a dozen kiwis, hoping that these, along with two quarts of home-made bio vegetable soup, five bananas and an assortment of other perishable sundries could stave off the consequences of her boyfriend’s high-cholesterol diet. She loved him.

  “Yeah, kiwis,” thought John. The rest seemed less important for the moment. After all, those kiwis had been lying on the kitchen table for ten days now. What were the probabilities of that - anywhere in the world?! His television must have sent him a sign that it was time to act. And eat. Kiwis.

  It was only a matter of seconds before an array of crumbs and other mini-debris were forearmed off a corner of the kitchen table and onto the floor where they belonged. Cutting the brown things in half seemed like a logical approach. It was. John got a small spoon and dug in - they were just right: not too mushy, not too hard, not too sweet, not too anything and loaded with vitamin something, if he remembered his girlfriend’s explanations correctly.

  John sank back into his arm chair, now into his third kiwi and going strong. He had forgotten about the TV and, although he wasn’t feeling any healthier, he felt more in love.

  An hour later, before he fully realized it, John had finished off the dozen kiwis, the five bananas, the cantaloupe, two pounds of figs and all the rest of the stuff in the brown, recycled bag that Randita had forced upon him, threatening him with a fate worse than death if he didn’t eat it. Red-faced, eyes bulging and jam-packed up to the ears with health, energy, vitamins, riboflavin, anti-oxidants and whatever other health-packed bio things that the food contained, he was now frenetically swallowing the Tupperware of cold soup, fired up like a Buddha on crack.

  Panting heavily, exuding health from every pore, John quickly wiped a green unidentified filet of soup stuff from the corner of his mouth as he started thinking. His first thought was: “Yeah, that guy was right. Those kiwis were a great idea.” Then it slowly dawned on him and he finally exclaimed: “Hey, maybe I could have an idea too!”

  John started searching for an idea. His first attempt had been: “Have a kiwi”. But he’d already tried that, following the young TV man’s suggestion. No, it wasn’t a very original idea; he could do better. The minutes went by and John still couldn’t come up with an idea, despite a sense of urgency and importance born from feeling excessively fit.

  After half an hour later, for lack of anything better and newer, John fell back on one of his old ideas: travelling to Saskatchewan by bicycle. And it wasn’t long before he was on his way.