The Eden Effect (17 page)

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Authors: David Finchley

Tags: #Fiction - Thriller

BOOK: The Eden Effect
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The next morning they were on their way at 5.30am as always. Martin asked Arthur to drive. He was still on a high. Arthur was happy to oblige. He preferred to drive.

They arrived at their first stop ten minutes later. Standing outside the front door were Betty and John Condron, both in slippers and dressing gowns. John was holding the empty container in his hand. Odd, thought Arthur, they've never done this before. Martin went out to deliver their order. Arthur could see John shaking Martin's hand and tapping him on the shoulder, Betty leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.

‘What was all that about?' He asked once Martin was back in the van.

‘I've no idea. John said ‘well done' and Betty said ‘you were great' and kissed me. I supposed they watched the show, but I wasn't that good.'

The same thing happened to the next three houses. No more kissing but smiles and handshakes greeted Martin at each stop.

Before the next stop Martin said ‘pull over, Arthur. I don't know what the fuck's going on, but I'm driving.'

Arthur switched seats and at the next stop as he emerged from the van and delivered the two litres of milk he could see the disappointment on the faces of Martha Wilder, who was standing outside her door alone. Her husband, Ralph worked the nightshift at Eden Valley, and was not home.

The round continued. At some houses the occupants were outside and some not. Arthur did all the other deliveries. Martin stayed in the van, sitting behind the wheel trying to look invisible. Some people waved to him, others called out ‘good on you, Martin!'

It was 10am and they were back at the dairy.

‘If this is going to happen every morning, I'm going to retire sooner than I planned, Arthur.'

Arthur shrugged. It was quite an experience. He too was hoping that it would not be repeated.

And it wasn't. There was no one waiting outside their house the next day or the next or the one after that. Everything returned to normal yet again. More people were saying hello to Martin down the street, at the pub and in the shops he went into. That did not bother him. It was inevitable that he would be recognised and acknowledged now that he had come out. But no one bothered him, no one asked any questions and somewhat to Martin's surprise, the issue of the restricted access to news and information was never discussed. Martin began to wonder if anyone really cared. The people of Eden went about their business as they had always done. If their restricted access to the news bothered them, they did not show it. Martin even began to wonder whether he had overestimated the effect or the ‘bad news' had on people. Perhaps it had no effect at all and the social experiment of his was going to turn out to be a huge waste of time and money.

His faith was a little restored when about a month later when on a Thursday afternoon the front door bell rang, and at the door were Glen Roberts, the town's General Practitioner, and Gill and Roger. Arthur and Martin were home. Natalie was out somewhere, she didn't say where.

‘Okay if we come in, Martin?' Glen asked. ‘We've something to tell you that you might find interesting.'

‘Sure, come in. Arthur is here too.'

When they had all sat down, Glen began.

‘I'm not sure that what I'm going to say has any relevance to what you are trying to prove, Martin, but I thought you would be interested, never the less. In the last six weeks or so I began to notice that I'm been prescribing far fewer drugs for anxiety than I used to. I wasn't sure at first, but I checked. All my scripts are computer generated and over the last six weeks the scripts for Xanax are down by twenty five percent.'

Xanax was a popular minor tranquilizer of that time. It was prescribed by the bucket load all over the country.

‘I've looked back on it over the last three years,' Glen continued. ‘The trend has been for about ten percent increase each year, and this is the first drop and a big one. It may be nothing, Martin. It may have nothing at all to do with your project, but I thought you should know. I'll continue to track it and keep you informed.'

‘Thanks, Glen. I appreciated it. I have no idea what it means, but it's got to be a good thing, no?'

It was then Gill's turn.

‘There's more, Martin. As you know, the State Government keeps statistics of all types of crime in Victoria. They release information only on the rare occasions when crime is down to make themselves look good. We get quarterly updates, and for the quarter that has just gone, crime in Eden is down by thirty percent. Roger and I have had the impression that is has been down but it's hard to tell for sure. It was just an impression. But these figures confirm it. Not only that, if they are correct, they're amazing. We even received a letter of commendation from the Police Minister, no less. Again, Martin, we don't know what it means. For all we know the figures will up again the next quarter. But we thought you would like to know.'

‘Thanks guys. I really appreciate you stopping by and letting me know. Whatever the reason, Eden seems to be becoming a better place all round.'

‘We better go,' said Glen. ‘Back to work. And Martin, just so you know, we're very proud of what you are doing. Keep up the good work.'

After they left, Martin asked.

‘What do you think, Arthur?'

‘Well, I would like to think that our, I mean, your social experiment is paying dividends. But I don't know. None of us do. We need the evidence and that will come when the next survey is done. It is in another three months, Martin. Not long to wait and then we will know.'

Martin felt good. He allowed himself to be optimistic and fervently wanted to believe they were achieving something.

Arthur's thoughts were elsewhere. He had not heard from Tracey in over a month. There was a brief phone call the day after the interview was aired to ask him what he thought of it and to let him know how busy she was, but nothing since. Natalie had told him countless times, why don't you call her, Arthur, I'm sure she would love to hear from you. But he hadn't called. His excuse was that Tracey was probably busy and he did not want to disturb her.

And busy she did seem to be as on most evenings as she was, looking more gorgeous every time Arthur tuned in. She was reporting on something or rather most evenings. In truth, Arthur was afraid to call. Afraid he would be rejected. He suspected that their weekend fling was just that. Tracey had been in town, had a spare weekend and has moved on. And yet, he felt there had been some connection between them, more than just the sex. Perhaps he was deluding himself. He may have felt connected, but clearly she was not. However busy she may have been, there was no way she did not have time to call him if she really wanted to. No, she had moved on, he told himself. I better get used to it.

His thoughts were interrupted by Martin.

‘Do you have any idea where Natalie is?' he asked. ‘I'd like to tell her what we just found out. She left her mobile behind and I've got no idea where she is.'

‘She didn't tell me, Martin. I didn't even know she had gone.'

‘I suppose it can wait until she gets back.'

Just then Natalie's voice rang out. ‘Martin, I'm back. See you in a sec, I just got to pee.'

‘I'm going for a walk, Martin,' Arthur said. ‘I need the exercise and it is a beautiful day.'

‘Okay, Arthur. See you when I see you.'

Arthur got up and as he left the room he saw Natalie who was just entering.

‘Hi Arthur. Are you okay? You look miserable. No call from Tracey yet, I guess. And of course, you won't call her, you idiot.'

Arthur did not reply. He kept walking and as he was leaving the house he could hear Natalie asking Martin ‘what's his problem?' Arthur did not hear the reply. He had closed the front door behind him and was striding at a brisk pace up the street trying to get his heart rate up and clear his head.

His mobile phone woke him at 9.30pm. He had gone to bed early. He was exhausted. He had hardly slept the night before and waking at 5am that morning was even more difficult than usual.

‘Hi Arthur, you're not going to believe what I'm going to tell you.' It sounded like Tracey.

‘Hello, is that you Tracey?' he managed to mumble.

‘Did I wake you, Arthur? What do they put in the water up there in Eden? It's 9.30pm. Were you asleep already?'

‘Yes, I mean no, I must have dosed off watching TV.'

‘So, your TV is fixed finally, is it?'

‘Yes, it's fixed. I've been watching you on Today, Now.'

He was not quite sure why he said that.

‘Thanks Arthur, we need the ratings. Oh, I forgot, they don't do ratings in Eden. But thanks anyway. In fact, it's you I've got to thank for being on air at all. I know you talked into Martin into making sure I've got the interview, I owe you for that, but that's not why I called. You won't believe this. There is a small town in New Zealand. I can't remember its name just now, somewhere near Auckland. Apparently they get our show. You know what they have done, Arthur? They've done exactly what you've done in Eden. They stopped all the news outlets from showing all the stuff that could upset people. You know, just like your social experiment. They saw my interview with Martin and they copied exactly what you guys have done. Can you believe it? And we just got a report that another town in Canada, they're thinking of doing the same. Canada. They don't get our show. I don't know how they heard about it. Looks like you guys have started something. Martin and you, and your Foundation.'

Tracey had hardly stopped to take a breath. She was speaking quickly and a little too loudly for Arthur who was still trying to wake up properly.

‘Thanks Tracey. I'll tell Martin. I'm sure he will be very interested. I'll tell him in the morning.'

‘Is that all you had to say, Arthur? Aren't you excited?'

‘Yes, Tracey I'm very excited. This is wonderful news. Thank you Tracey,' Arthur replied, hardly being able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

‘You're pissed with me, aren't you? You could have rung me too, you know. Don't get me wrong, Arthur. I had a great weekend with you. I've already told you, more than once. What were you expecting, wedding bells? I like you, Arthur, I really do, but I haven't got time for a relationship now. Certainly not a long distance one. You're stuck in Eden, I understand that. And thanks to you, my career is taking off. I'm on air three times a week now. Do you how much work that involves? I don't have time for a relationship.'

‘Good night Tracey. I'll pass your message on. Good luck with your career.'

And with that, Arthur hung up and turned off his mobile. He lay there. He knew the probability of him falling asleep was very close to zero. After fifteen minutes of staring into the ceiling, he got up. He snuck into the lounge room and helped himself to a large measure of single malt. He picked up the nearest bottle, did not even bother to look at the label, gulped down the Scotch. He headed back to bed and within fifteen minutes was fast asleep, snoring.

The alarm clock woke him at 5am. As he sat up he became aware that his head was throbbing and quickly swallowed two Panadol, which he kept by his bed. He showered, dressed, headed to the kitchen where he made himself a coffee, a triple and was ready for the day, at least as ready as he could be.

‘Tracey rang last night,' he told Martin as the van pulled out of the driveway.

‘That's nice, Arthur. I told you that she had the hots for you,' was Martin's reply.

‘It was nothing like that, Martin. It seems that a town in New Zealand and possibly another in Canada have copied our project. All of their own free will. Tracey thought we would like to know that.'

‘Well that's interesting. And unexpected. Are you sure they were copying us? They could have come up with the idea on their own.'

Not likely, thought Arthur. Surely there can't be other oddballs like Martin on the planet. But he said. ‘No, it seems New Zealand gets Today, Now, and Tracey assumes they saw your interview. As for Canada, she has no idea.'

‘So my idea is not so crazy after all, Arthur. And don't forget what Glen and the cops told us. We might be onto something.'

‘We might well be, Martin,' Arthur said without much enthusiasm. He was still replaying the phone call with Tracey in his mind. His was right. It was just a quick fling for her. She had no romantic interest in him at all. What did he expect? He should have known better. What would a gorgeous, much younger woman see in him? A mid-fifties has been, a milkman, no, an assistant milkman.

Martin tried to engage him in conversation on their morning round, but soon gave up. The most he could get out of Arthur was the odd grunt. They were back at 9.30am, a little earlier than usual. Arthur changed, sat on his bed and was not sure what to do next. He felt like shit. It was a bit early, but bugger it he thought. I need to get drunk. He left the house and headed on foot to the Red Lion, arriving there at 10.15am, soon after it opened. He went straight to the bar and ordered a double Scotch.

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