Plague

The man reached across his desk and picked up the phone.

He’d been sitting, waiting for his visitor for several minutes. His excitement, if that’s what it was, was definitely building. He just couldn’t wait any longer. He punched in a couple of numbers. Two floors below, in the laboratory, a researcher picked up.

The caller said, “It’s bubonic plague!”

There was a long silence at the other end, followed by, “You have to be kidding!”

“No. That’s what it is,” he replied.

“You’re sure, are you?”

“I am. I have the whole thing laid out. I was expecting you five minutes ago.”

“Yes, sorry. Just had to finish something here. I’ll be right up.”

The man put the phone down and sat looking down at the results. He had mixed feelings about how they’d found the answer. It would have been revealed earlier if not for a mistake. A simple one, but a mistake, nevertheless. He heard steps approaching from the hall. The man in a white lab coat came in carrying a small plastic box. He took a seat across from his colleague, saying, “This would have to be one of the hardest nuts we’ve ever had to crack.”

The other man smiled triumphantly. “Yes. I agree, but there was an error you see.”

The visitor opened the container and took out a sandwich. “An error?” he asked.

“Yes,” the man said, shaking his head.

“Are you certain about this?” the visitor asked, taking a bite of his sandwich, “I’ve looked back over my own copy, and the results for twelve would definitely have to conflict with what you’re saying.”

The man beckoned, saying, “I’ll show you.”

The visitor went around the desk.

“Here we are,” said the man, “Seven down, thirteen letters, right?”

“Right.”

“OK. Thirteen letters, two words, seven and six letters, ‘bubonic plague’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, because twelve across was wrong. That should have been ‘union’.

The visitor stood staring at it for a while, then said, “Ah! Got it. Well done!”

He dropped a piece of sandwich into his lunchbox and picked it up. He moved towards the door. “Better get back; getting busy down there.”

“OK,” said the man, with a satisfied smile.

As he left, the other said, “Same time tomorrow.”

The man, still gazing down at the crossword, stuck his thumb up.

12 thoughts on “Plague”

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