Recycle - 7. Chapter 7

There was a little anger from the media. “How long has this been going on?” asked one of the dozen-or-so reporters who contacted Owen after he phoned the major Springfield area TV stations. “And why isn’t Northampton handling this? They’re so much better.”

Owen knew not to say, “Because they don’t want to deal with you.” He’d spoken to the Northampton captain, a long-time friend, and she’d said, “I know what you’re headed into, and I know it’s important. But it’s all yours.”

So Owen simply told the reporters, “Because we started the investigation.” And the various area stations, and the campus and local papers and websites and radio stations accepted that. The most important things Owen wanted to emphasize were:

This had been ongoing for six weeks.

The active area spread from Greenfield in the north to Springfield in the south, and Amherst in the east to Westfield in the west – approximately forty by thirty miles.

The shooter seemed harmless, and no sex or robbery was involved.

The aim was a temporary tattoo and the means usually a tranquilizer dart. So people needed to be careful where they walked at night.

The focus was on isolated college students, equally women and men.

Most important: If you were hit, the best reaction was to use your body’s natural energy – your adrenaline – to fight off the drowsiness while getting quickly to safety. Yell. Scream. Sing. Run. Pump your arms. Do all these things together to keep from dozing off.

Owen wanted to add: “And keep the dart. We need the dart.” But he didn’t want to let the shooter know that. He hoped that any logical person would simply realize it.

Predictably, after the news came out, the silliness began – phone calls, texts, e-mails, and even letters that had nothing to do with the shooter

My neighbor’s tattooed son has a BB gun.

My neighbor’s nasty daughter used a bow and arrow to kill our cat.

My neighbor loves darts and hates people.

Are these poison darts like the ones they shoot in Africa?

Are these poison darts like you’d find on the Amazon with the Piranha?

Are these poison darts like those little tribes people use in Australia?

Can these darts kill you?

Recycling should be against the law. Those companies just dump everything in the ocean anyway.

Recycling is causing Global Warming! Death to recyclers!

Elena sorted through it all, answering as much as possible politely. She met with some of the callers or writers, as did Don, Rob, and Jae. Reports from other stations came in, but most officers simply passed on the Waldron contact information, so people called or wrote directly.

Ike started to handle the copycats. “You’ve got enough to do,” he told Elena. The copycats came in several categories, all seemingly inspired by videos found on the Internet.

The shooter who used tiny, homemade paper cones, headed by a straight pin. On each cone was laser printed “RECYCLE.”

The shooter who used a sewing needle as a tip, followed by a tiny tail of cotton. There was no label.

The one who used store-bought mini-darts. Fifty sold for ten bucks, so they seemed disposable

The one who simply threw dart board darts with “recycle” handwritten on the fins.

None of these used tranquilizers or tattoos. The shooters simply seemed to be saying, “Whee! This is fun! I can do it, too.”

“Those we can ignore,” Owen told Elena and Ike. “They all seem to be aiming at people’s backs, though we never mentioned that’s one thing the shooter does.”

“It was in one of the news reports,” Elena told him. “I read it online. One of the reporters interviewed the Amherst, Northampton, and South Hadley officers – the Ivy League schools – and they all mentioned it.”

“Well, until someone changes that, starts shooting at the front, and hits someone in the eye, we’re probably all right.”

“Do we know which darts come from which kind of launchers?” Don asked Ike.

“We can only guess from what’s on the Internet,” Ike replied. “The cotton darts, paper cones, and the store-bought minis can all come out of an air rifle or handgun. A rifle’s preferred because it’s easier to load.”

“But harder to hide,” Rob reminded them.

“And the board darts are simply thrown?” Jae asked.

“Probably,” Ike told her. “From someone who’s use to bar rooms.”

“Any leads on any of the shooters?” Owen asked.

Ike grinned. “Well, there we’re getting lucky. Because these are college kids mostly targeting their friends. And because they’ve all been guys so far – shooters and targets – they’re friends eager to rat on other friends. They all think it’s a prank.”

“So much of it seems to be,” Elena put in.

“Obviously, we’re not making any arrests,” Ike went on to assure them. “Because no one’s complaining. They’re all bragging.”

There was another side effect, too. When Owen described the tattoo to the reporters, he gave them a picture of it. “Not a photo,” he’d explained. “That would invade privacy, even if we had permission.” Instead, he’d offered a sketch one of the weekend officers had mocked up. Kassel was primarily an artist so only worked at the station part-time.

The side effect was that kids were tattooing themselves. Not with henna – just simple marker. Sometimes they cut a stencil, and sometimes they just scribbled. And since it was getting too cool for guys to run around shirtless and girls to wear halter or tank tops, the favored place for the tattoos was on the arm, just above the left wrist. “Because most people are right-handed,” Ike explained, “so their left wrist is easier to reach. Otherwise, they have to ask their friends to do it .”

“All this must be making the shooter happy,” Elena said. “All the easy publicity.”

“Do you really think it’s encouraged anyone to recycle?” Owen asked.

“At least, it puts the thought in their heads,” Rob admitted.

“True,” Don concurred.

“Have there been any real tattoos?” Elena asked Ike. “Anything from the original shooter?”

“Nope,” he said shrugging. “Everything’s been strangely quiet there. As if waiting to see what happens.”

And then everything went nuts.