Celcius -32

Mildred

Mildred reclined on her couch, watching as the relatives argued. She listened carefully, watched quietly, and waited for the moment. There! There it was! At the back of the room, shown on the parlor wall, there was a small desk. And on it, three items sat; a notepad, a pencil, and a single match. Mildred pondered the objects and wondered why they would put those items there and what they meant. They always meant something. 

Each day, the relatives would argue, and each day, the objects would change. But only the things on the desk. You could barely see them for a second as the camera turned, but they were always there. Most people didn't care about the objects. They were only objects to them. 

Montag didn't care, and that was perfect. If he did, if he sat on the couch next to her for only a short time, he would notice the way her eyes always drifted constantly to the desks on the parlor walls.

Mildred reached over and pressed the small buttons on the couch's armrest in the long sequence she had figured from the objects on the wall. It was time. The parlor walls shifted and went fuzzy at the edges. Then the screen cleared, and there Darby was, behind her desk, as always. Mildred put her seashells in and tuned them to the hidden channel. She stood at attention.

"You may sit," Darby said. Her accent had become heavy since the last time Mildred had talked to her. Amusement twinkled in her eyes. Mildred sat. "As I always say," Darby started. Mildred said the rest in unison with her. "You don't have to stand." 

"Oh, and you are the best agent we have, and you are my best friend," Mildred imitated her.

Darby laughed. "That you are. Now, have you any news?" Mildred smiled. 

"Yes. Operation Dandelion was a success. That 17-year-old girl sure knows her way around a sidewalk. She was perfect. Montag is starting to think, and if all goes to plan, he'll meet our friends in a couple of months." And I won't ever see him again, Mildred added silently. "Is Operation Pillow still on?" Mildred asked. She shuddered at the thought of it.

"Nope! Operation Pillow is a no-go. Don't worry. I wouldn't put you through that again. Did it hurt? I mean, to have your stomach pumped?"

Mildred's face scrunched up. "I wouldn't know. I was asleep because of the 'unique' pills you sent me." She said sarcastically. 

Darby chuckled. "It's not funny!" Mildred said though she was smiling too. 

"Unique?" Darby said through gasps of air. "They were UNIQUE?" 

Mildred giggled. "Sorry, I forgot they were from you." Tears streamed down Darby's face as she tried to stop laughing. 

"Ok, um, should I just..." Mildred pointed at the buttons. 

Darby nodded, smiling through her smearing makeup. "Oh! And don't forget book club on Monday! Clarisse's uncle has finally joined," Darby reminded her. Mildred grinned and punched in the long sequence that switched the secret channel back to the relatives. The screens shifted, and the familiar sounds of arguing began again.