The Middle Man (Professionals 6) - Page 47

So it wasn’t at all odd for me to attend a small meeting at a local coffee shop where we were all discussing environmental contaminants, about the untold repercussions of them on our vulnerable bodies.

It wasn’t strange either that I was one of the last to leave, sitting there sipping my fifth cup of tea and talking about the forgotten problem of industrial waste water. One of the guys from the meeting–oddly silent in an otherwise very animated group–with curly brown hair and a freckled face and the kind of skinny where he almost looked unwell–moved in across from me, flattening his forearms on the tabletop, and giving me direct eye-contact.

There was something oddly chilling in his dark brown eyes at that moment too.

“If you want to talk about the real threat to all of us right now, it is Blairtown Chem.”

Of course there was no way I wasn’t going to bite into such a juicy topic.

Blairtown Chem, like many major chemical companies, had been doing their damndest to distance themselves from the recent bad press surrounding companies just like theirs who were needing to shell out tens of millions of dollars in class-action lawsuits over long-term exposure to their toxic chemicals for weed and pest control.

They–and their fellow companies–had so-called ‘green’ products hitting the market that they hoped would distract the public from all the claims about the toxicity of their products still on the market–without even warning labels about potential risks for life-threatening illnesses.

Luckily for them, the people were worn out on bad news. They were feeling helpless on a melting planet with socioeconomic uncertainty, civil unrest, and a startling political divide.

Who cared about weed killer when your cousin Bobby suddenly thought it was acceptable to take to the streets decked out in Nazi garb and let the whole world know what had previously been a secret family shame–that Bobby was a racist little asshole?

There seemed to be bigger issues to be dealt with than what they used to kill the dandelions that insisted on growing in their otherwise perfectly manicured front lawns.

So Blairtown Chem–and all their fellow chemical companies–stopped making headlines and got to go on with what they were doing.

“I mean, I think we all know how toxic their chemicals are,” I had told him, shrugging, wanting to go back to discussing waste water with the girl with the shaved head and kind eyes, feeling oddly uncomfortable around this new stranger– I didn’t often feel with people. But the girl was quickly pulling on her coat, casting weary eyes at the guy across the table from me, then rushing out.

“You think you know but you really have no idea,” he told me.

“I’m sorry… who are you?”

“Rylan,” he offered, but didn’t extend a hand. Not that I wanted to reach for it anyway. I knew I would find it cold, wrapping mine around my warm mug instead.

“Gemma.”

“Yeah, I know. Do you want to know what is really going on at Blairtown Chem, Gemma?”

That was a very loaded question for me.

Because I was always a seeker of truths, someone who wanted to know as much as she possibly could, who took pride in her thirst for knowledge.

At the same time, though, a little voice was telling me that I maybe didn’t want to be involved with this Rylan guy at all. Not even to learn something that might prove important to know.

Then he went ahead and sealed both our fates.

“You know those new ‘more natural’ weed killers and bug repellants they are coming out with?”

“Yeah. I mean… I think we all know they aren’t as natural as they claim.”

“Bet you didn’t know that the tests they submitted to the EPA are complete bullshit.”

That wasn’t overly surprising either. Fraud happened in all realms of our world. Even in pharmaceutical drug trials. It happened all the time. Companies generally tried to get away with things if the proposed product was set to make them a fortune.

“It is going to take a lot more than that to get my interest.”

“Testing went on for two years. That’s it. Just two years. And three people died.”

That was sounding dangerously close to a conspiracy theory to me. I mean, to be fair, some conspiracy theories proved true with time, but people had a tendency to get carried away with them a lot of the time. I mean there were people who believed other people were actually lizards. Who knew if this Rylan guy was a tin-hatter, or someone who had genuine information.

“That seems a little far-fetched. Even for a chemical company.”

“What if I told you that my father was one of those who died?”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” I was, too. I couldn’t imagine losing a parent. But at the same time, people died every day from things that weren’t weed killers or bug spray. “But that isn’t proof in and of itself.”

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