Green Twine

Physics professor, Doctor Elba Goheen, 35, let the package sit on her desk. It was a brown box neatly wrapped with brown paper. Twine fastened it. It was waiting for her when she entered the room earlier, and she’d wondered if she should alert the authorities, or just open the damn thing. Now she stared at it.

Standing there, looking around her Wilmington, Delaware lab, she realized a box the size of a tissue paper box could contain a device big enough to blow her and the lab away.

It looked so well put together, but it could have been a ruse. Her honey brown skin showed signs of light perspiration. She’d already brought the package to the attention of Dean Morgan Hauss, who walked into her classroom just then.

“This is it?” Hauss said pointing to the box. He moved to touch it.

“No, don’t!” Elba screamed. “We don’t know what it is.”

“I’m calling the police,” he picked up his smartphone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Yes, I would like to report a suspicious package. I am Dean Morgan Hauss. I work at New Sweden University, and I’m standing in one of my professor’s labs.” Professor Goheen discovered the unmarked package when she arrived at about nine o’clock to prepare for her ten o’clock lecture, and immediately contacted me. Neither of us have touched it. It must’ve showed up sometime after five-thirty yesterday evening when she left. We’re concerned it may contain explosives. Will you please send the appropriate team out to check it out for us? Thank you.

The bomb squad arrived soon thereafter. They didn’t wear any special attire, but they did bring bomb detection gear.

“For your safety, we’re going to clear out the building,” lead officer Khris Kingston said. Classes hadn’t started yet, so there few students remained on campus, but the faculty and staff evacuated the building just as a precaution.

Of the special instruments the bomb squad brought with them, one stood out from the rest. It was a small X-ray machine, about the size of a tablet computer. They spent about thirty minutes running tests to ensure the package wouldn’t blow up if they ever disturbed it. Outside, the tension was getting to Elba. Her heart was racing and with every passing second, the image of her lab engulfed in flames, papers and furniture flying through the air, became more real in her imagination.

She pictured the officers mangled bodies, strewn around the room, and was overcome by anxiety.

She envisioned the gore left by an explosion, and imagined with increasing horror the blight this would be on the university’s history. She even imagined the ceremonies for fallen officers, complete with sobbing family members and crisply folded American flags handed to widows and widowers. She wiped away a tear.

The time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. She desperately wanted to scream. She had to know what was in this mysterious package, but at the same time she didn’t want her imagination to be right. Elba’s outward composure belied the panic building within her.

Finally, the officers announced the all-clear. Elba and her colleagues re-entered the building. She walked into her laboratory, and the other faculty members followed, finding places to stand around the room.

“Dr. Goheen, you don’t have to worry, it’s not a bomb,” said officer Kingston. The other specialists, officers Melo Dansberry and Rita Roy began putting away their gear.

Elba sighed with relief.

“But we cannot make a clear picture of what it actually is. It’s nothing resembling an explosive and is not plastic or metallic. Would you like to do the honors, doctor?”

Without hesitation, after the threat of an explosive evaporated, Elba stepped forward and untied the green twine, which contrasted nicely against the brown paper. She opened the box to find a note on paper in Pacifico typeface. She read it aloud: “How does it feel to be the youngest professor in history to earn tenure at this institution?”

The officers and professors all clapped and cheered. Elba brought her hands up to her face.

“Thank you all for checking it out. I was beginning to worry there for a second. I’m not going to lie,” she announced.

“Congratulations, Dr. Goheen,” Dean Hauss said.