Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel (6 page)

Maria had invited
Turbo over for dinner. They needed to talk. He arrived just in time to say
goodbye to his kids. “Hey, where’s everybody going?”

“Nic’s going to
Jackson’s house and I’m spending the night with Missy.” Angie pushed her
brother out the door. “Missy’s mom's here. Bye, Daddy, love you.”

Turbo waved to his
kids as they drove away. “Wow, we’re all alone.” A devious smile came over him.

“Don’t get any
ideas. We need to talk.” Maria didn’t smile back.

“I’m sure we’ll
talk a little.”

Maria grabbed his
hand and pulled him through the doorway. “Go wash up before dinner.”

Turbo stood there for
a minute, the aromas from the kitchen wafting upon him. He washed up quick,
even though he’d already showered after work. He couldn’t be too clean.

Unlike his last
visit, Turbo ate with vigor. Lasagna. Cosmo’s recipe. After dinner, they talked
for hours over coffee and cherry cobbler. They discussed the children, the move
to Florida, and even his plans to move the shop. Turbo’s earlier idea about
romance had fleeted.

More concerned
with his marriage, Turbo just came out with it. “There has to be some way to
change your mind?”

“It’s simple,”
Maria said. “You have to let go.”

“Let go?”

“Yes, let go.”

“Of what?”

“You know what.”

Turbo didn’t say a
word. Of course, he knew what she was talking about, but for the first time in
weeks, he was enjoying a conversation with his wife.

“I mean it, Turbo.
The get rich quick schemes. The revenge for your uncle. Everything. Nikola
Tesla must rest in peace.”

He noticed the
determination on her face.

"Well, what's
it gonna be? Tell me now, before I fuck your brains out.” Maria started up the
stairs.

***

Phillip wanted to
return to Brooklyn right away. If they hurried, they could be back before
midnight. Shocked when Carrie agreed with him, he asked, “what about Buddy?”

“Screw Buddy. We
have to find this Turbo guy tonight.”

Phillip slept most
of the way back to Brooklyn. Carrie woke him when they reached Flatbush Avenue.
He glanced at his watch. “Wow, eleven-thirty, did we fly?”

“Rub the sleep
from your eyes and help me find Montauk Avenue.”

“You need a GPS
system.”

“I don’t need any
GPS system.” Carrie took a quick right turn.

“Why not?” Phillip
asked.

“Because, we’re
here, 616 Montauk Avenue.”

The darkened house
offered only faint light behind heavy curtains in one upstairs window. “It’s
late, maybe we should come back tomorrow.” Carrie suggested.

“No, he'll think
we’re crazy at first, but once he examines the concept we'll be fine.”

Carrie didn’t
argue.

They rang the
bell. No answer. They rang the bell again. A minute later, what sounded like a stampede
of horses was heading their way.

Out of breath, Turbo
answered the door in his boxer shorts and wife-beater. “Who the hell are you
and why are you knocking on my door at this hour?”

“Are you William
Trb---are you Turbo?”

“Who wants to
know?”

“Phillip
Washington, Sir. My grandfather knew your uncle.”

“My uncle? Which
uncle?”

“Nikola Tesla”

Maria wore
sweatpants and a flannel shirt. She had made it down the stairs just in time to
hear what Phillip said. She glowered at Turbo with disgust. “You couldn’t even
wait till morning.” She ran back upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.

Turbo called out
to her. “Maria. Honey. I don’t know these people; I’ve never seen them before
in my life.”

She threw Turbo’s
clothes over the banister and slammed the bedroom door again.

“Maybe we should
come back another time.” Carrie tugged on Phillip’s sleeve.

“No, it’s okay,
there’s never a good time to talk about Uncle Nikola. Please, sit down.” Turbo
retrieved his pants and pulled up a chair from the dining room. “Sorry about my
wife, we’re going through a rough time right now. Anyway, I’m William
Trbojevic, but please, call me Turbo.”

“Pleased to meet
you Turbo. I’m Phillip Washington.”

“And I'm Carrie
Lockwood.”

“So let me get
this straight, Phillip. Your grandfather knew my uncle?”

“Yes Sir. He
worked at The New Yorker.”

Intrigued but
still cautious, Turbo asked, “How do you know this?”

Phillip handed him
the notes for Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide. “Your uncle gave my grandfather
copies of his notes for safe keeping.”

Turbo examined the
document. “It’s my uncle’s handwriting and he signed it Blasplatna Struja. That
means “free electricity.”

“We know,” they
said together.

“You speak
Serbian?”

“No, we had it
translated,” Carrie said.

“My uncle found a
way to provide free electricity to everyone, but Edison, Westinghouse, and
Morgan wouldn’t allow it.”

“Do you know what
this concept is?”

“No, I’ve never
seen this before. It’s not a schematic, not electrical. Do you have any other
notes?”

Phillip hesitated.
“I did.”

“What do you mean?
Did
?”

“My grandmother
threw them away a few days ago.”

“What? How many?”

“Hundreds of them,
thousands of pages.” Phillip explained that the concepts were stored inside
Charles Chips cans for years and his grandmother threw them away the other day.

“But if the
documents are in the chip cans, they should still be okay,” Carrie said.

“Yeah, but where?”
Phillip asked.

“They’re in some
landfill.” Turbo glanced upstairs. Could Maria hear them? He hoped not.

“Then I suggest we
find that landfill.” Phillip got up off the sofa. “They’re big yellow cans,
they can’t be that hard to find.”

“Will you come
with us, Turbo?” Carrie asked.

Turbo hesitated.
He glanced upstairs again. “Yeah, I’ll be right there, let me get my shirt and
shoes.”

Phillip and Carrie
waited outside.

Turbo tiptoed
upstairs to see if Maria was awake. The television was on mute, she undoubtedly
heard everything. “Just go, William. It’s okay. Just go.”

The fact that she
called him William told him that it wasn’t okay. “I love you, Maria. I’ll have
this all sorted out by morning.”

Maria pressed the
remote and the room went dark.

Turbo got in the
car and called Cosmo right away. “Cosmo, I need you to find out what landfill
they take our garbage to.”

Carrie and Phillip
heard Cosmo screaming through the phone. “Right now? It’s after midnight, how
the hell am I gonna find that out at this time of night?”

“I don’t care how
you do it. Call the mayor if you have to.”

“Tell him to
Google it.” Phillip suggested.

“Google---what's
Google?” Turbo didn't own a computer. “Wait a minute. Cosmo says he knows about
Google, Oprah interviewed one of the founders once, but he doesn’t have a
computer.”

“Too bad we don't
have Rudy’s iPhone,” Carrie said.

“Just hop on the
interstate and follow the first garbage truck we see.” Phillip’s idea was
genius.

“That’s a great
idea, never mind Cosmo, go back to sleep." Turbo hung up. “So, Phillip,
tell me about your grandfather.”

“Well, he died
before I was born. In fact, he died a few days after your uncle did. He was hit
by a car; it was a hit and run. They ruled it an accident, but I’m starting to
think he was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Turbo
and Carrie said together.

“Why’s that?”
Turbo asked.

“My grandmother
told me that the O.S.S. questioned my grandfather about your uncle for two
days. Two days after that, he’s hit by a car and killed. It just seems
suspicious. I don’t understand why they didn’t search the house for the
papers?”

“They didn’t know
they existed.” Turbo spoke with confidence. “The government confiscated most of
my uncle’s work when he died. And what they didn’t get my communist cousin Sava
did.”

“Your cousin's a
communist?” Carrie asked.

“Well, he’s my
second cousin, but yes, he belongs to the Yugoslavian Communist Party.”

“Hey, there’s a
garbage truck.” Carrie changed lanes and got behind the truck.

They followed the
truck for about ten miles until the driver pulled into a Denny’s restaurant.
Phillip stopped the driver before he entered the restaurant. “Excuse me, Sir,
where are you gonna dump that garbage?”

The driver wasn’t
amused. “None of your damn business, that’s where.”

Phillip
apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your business.”

Turbo stepped up
to help. “Hey, Sal.” The driver's name was monogrammed above his shirt pocket.
“I bet you’re hungry. Here’s ten dollars, have a Grand Slam on me, okay?” Turbo
got the driver’s attention. “I just need a tiny little favor first.”

The driver stuffed
the bill in his pocket. “You ain't dumping any dead bodies in my truck.”

“No, Sal, it's
nothing like that. I have a problem, my niece lives over in Brooklyn; that’s
her over there in the car."

Carrie smiled and
waved.

"Well, she
threw her engagement ring in the trash by accident. And we need to find it
before her fiancé finds out. All I need to know is where the landfill is?”

“That’s all you
want, really?”

Turbo nodded.

“Why didn’t you
say so?”

Phillip threw his
hands in the air. “They take it all over to Jersey, near Trenton.”

“Thanks, Sal.
Enjoy your Grand Slam.” Turbo and Phillip got back in the car. “We're headed to
Trenton.”

“Trenton?” Carrie
stuttered. “They take our garbage to Jersey?”

“How far to
Trenton?” Phillip asked.

“Not sure, a couple
hours, I guess” Carrie yawned. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“We won’t,”
Phillip and Turbo said together.

***

The highway from
Newark to Trenton had recently been paved and the white lines had not been
painted, yet. It blended into the night. Pitch dark, other than a few hundred
feet lit up by headlights. The endless countryside, the occasional abandoned
factory, and even the stars seemed dim. With no moon to be found.

The landfill
emerged from the darkness. A city within itself, hundreds of lights illuminated
an eerie methane haze above it. Phillip had envisioned a ten-foot-high fence
with a pack of Rottweiler on the loose. There was no need. The landfill
operated twenty-four-hours a day. Garbage trucks lined the roads to the various
drop off sites.

Carrie turned off
the highway and proceeded toward the main entrance. Turbo told her to stop.
“They’re not gonna just wave us through the gate and let us rummage through
their garbage. We need a plan.”

“Maybe we should
ask one of these drivers,” Phillip said.

“Good idea.” Turbo
pointed to a truck parked off the roadway. “Pull up behind it.”

Phillip opened his
door, but Carrie stopped him. “Maybe Turbo should speak to this one. He has
better luck with these guys.”

Turbo got out.
“It’ll just take a minute.”

A quick glance at
the monogram let Turbo know he would be dealing with another Sal. He thought it
must be a popular name for sanitation workers. “Hey, Sal, how’s it going?”

“Not too good, my
truck’s running hot, do I know you?”

“No, but I need
your help.”

“What’s wrong,
Mister, your car break down?”

“No, my car’s
fine. But let’s say, hypothetically, that I needed to get inside the landfill
to find something thrown away by mistake?”

“Oh, that’s easy.
Pull around to the back gate, go to the dispatch office and tell Mario I said
to help you. You tell him Sal said to help you.”

“Just Sal? Don’t I
need your last name? I mean there seems to be a lot of guys named Sal around
here.”

“You don’t need my
last name. Just tell him Sal sent you.”

***

The dispatch
office was dark. Turbo pulled on the door, but it was locked.

“Can I help you?”
A young man with long hair and a goatee walked up and nudged Turbo aside. He
unlocked the door and they went inside.

“I’m looking for
Mario, Sal sent me.”

“My dad sent you?
What for?”

“We need to find
something thrown away by mistake.”

“You’re kidding,
right?” The young man choked back a laugh.

Turbo explained
the situation. The truth, not the white lie he told the first Sal back at the Denny’s.
“They’re pretty big canisters; not like a needle in a haystack.”

“There’s a lot of
garbage out there.” Mario said. “But if my dad said to help, then I’m gonna help.
I'll need the address and the date they were picked up.”

“Hold on a
minute.” Turbo called Phillip and Carrie inside. “Mario, meet my friends,
Phillip and Carrie.”

“Pleased to meet
you.” Mario stood ready at his computer.

“Phillip, we need
your address and the date they were thrown away.”

“235 W. 14 Street,
they picked them up Monday.”

Mario entered the
information into the computer. “Okay, I can narrow it down to two sectors. The
garbage should have arrived Wednesday when we dumped into sectors G-4 and G-5.”

“Great, let's go,”
Phillip made his way to the door.

“It’s not that
simple, you can’t just prance around out there.”

“But you can help
us, right?” Carrie asked.

“Yes, Miss, follow
me.”

Mario led them to
a backroom. “Put on a jumpsuit and boots. And don’t forget gloves, hardhats,
and respirator masks, you’re going to need them. I’ll drive you to the sectors
when you’re ready.

The drive to
sector G-4 took a few minutes. “If anyone questions you, tell them you’re with
the Environmental Protection Agency. You tell them, Miss. They’ll believe you.”

Turbo and Phillip
didn’t say a word.

“You might want to
put your masks on now; we’re almost there.”

“But you don’t
have a mask.”

“Don’t worry about
me, I’m used to it. Besides, I’m not staying.” Mario pointed out the
boundaries. “G-4 starts here along this ridge and G-5 starts on the other side
of the big hill. It ends at the fence before the drainage pond. Take this
walkie-talkie and call me when you’re ready to be picked up.”

Turbo and Phillip
got right to it. Carrie hesitated before she stepped off the path into the
waste. Then she stomped her way through the waste to catch up with the boys.
“Gross, I can't believe I'm doing this.”

Phillip told her
to wait at the top of the hill. They would find the cans without her.

Not a smart thing
to say. He had obviously awakened Carrie’s competitive spirit, because she
declined the offer right away. “I bet I’ll find them before you do.”

“You’re on.”
Phillip headed in one direction and Carrie headed in the other. Turbo just
smiled and drifted over toward the hill. About twenty minutes had passed before
Turbo noticed that Carrie decided to try her luck in sector G-5. She had tromped
to the far end of the sector, near the fence, and was backtracking toward the
hill. Turbo headed in her direction.

They fumbled
through garbage for hours, crisscrossing the sectors.

Carrie had sat
down to rest on a rusty two-drawer filing cabinet that somehow landed upright
in the heap. Turbo was nearby and Phillip approached from the east. “What if
Mario screwed up?” he called out to them. “What if they were dumped into
another sector?”

“Don’t even think
that.” Carrie gasped.

“It’s almost
daylight, maybe we should come back tonight,” Turbo suggested.

“Good idea,”
Carrie jumped up from her seat. They looked at Phillip.

“Let’s make one
more pass over to the front of this sector and then I’ll call Mario to pick us
up.”

They spread out
about three feet apart and plodded through the trash. About halfway there,
Phillip lost his balance and fell.

“Are you okay?”
Carrie rushed over to him.

Turbo helped him
up. “You trip?’

“Yeah, I stepped
on something.” He reached down through a pile of cardboard and newspaper and
pulled up a “Charles Chips” canister.

Carrie pulled off
her respirator and let out a yelp. “Oh my God.” She quickly put the respirator
back on.

Phillip stood
there with the canister in his hands.

Turbo cleared away
the cardboard and other trash nearby. He also found a canister. “How many
canisters did your grandmother throw away?”

“Three.”

“Well, at least we
have two.” Turbo shook the canister. “It's awful light, you sure the notes are
in here?”

“Yeah, mine’s
light, too.” Phillip opened his container. It was empty. “Open yours.”

Turbo’s container
was empty, too. All he could think about was Maria. He had done it again. His
marriage was over.

Carrie searched
for the third container.

“Carrie, forget
it,” Phillip said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No, wait; the
third canister might still have the notes.”

“You don’t know my
grandmother. She didn’t want me messing with those concepts, this way she
insured I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,
Phillip.” Turbo knew how to handle such a setback, more than ever when they
involved his uncle.

***

Turbo asked Carrie
to drop him off at his flat. Along the way, they drove by his shop. “If you
need to contact me, please come to the shop. I doubt I’ll be allowed back in my
house anytime soon.”

“I’m sorry we got
you involved in this,” Carrie turned onto his street.

“Yeah, me too,”
Phillip said. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing like my grandmother
wanted.”

“I doubt my wife
would believe me.” Turbo opened the car door to get out. Carrie’s cell phone
rang. He could see that the caller I.D. displayed “Brad Pitt.” She answered it.
“Hey, Rudy.”

Phillip perked up
at once and told Turbo to wait.

As usual, Carrie
talked fast, but didn’t say much. “. . . uh huh, yes I understand . . . yes . .
. uh huh . . . oh my God, I knew it . . . yes, yes, okay . . .”

Turbo wanted to
ask a question, but Phillip stopped him. “Just give her a minute, she’ll fizzle
out soon, it'll be worth the wait.”

“. . . uh huh . .
. yes, we found him . . . that’s awesome . . . uh huh . . . yes . . . Rudy
that’s wonderful, call me as soon as you know.” Carrie hung up the phone.

“What the hell---

“Let her catch her
breath, first." Phillip warned. "But get ready; you don’t want to
miss anything.”

“Very funny,
Phillip.” Carrie took a deep breath. “Okay, that was Rudy, and he got a new
iPhone, and yes, he registered it to Brad Pitt just like he said he would. Anyway,
he called a buddy of his---oh, shit, he told me not to say buddy, anyway he
called a friend of his at the agency that told him that just about everything
“Tesla” was classified level four or higher. Unfortunately, he only has access
to level three, but don’t worry, he’s working on getting clearance, at least
for level four and five, anything higher than that would be really hard, then
he asked if we had found Turbo and I told him we did.”

“Not yet, almost.”
Phillip had his finger to his lip.

“Oh, he also said
that Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide is serious stuff. Level Ten.”

“Okay, now.”
Phillip lowered his hand.

“Level ten. He
can’t even get to level four, how the hell is he gonna get to level ten?” Turbo
let it all out.

“Rudy will figure
it out.” Carrie assured them. “Right now, I think we all need to get some
sleep.”

Phillip agreed.
“Goodnight, Turbo. We’ll be in touch.”

Turbo thanked them
both.

***

Too tired to worry
if his grandmother saw Carrie drop him off, Phillip told her to pull up front.
“Thanks for driving me all over the world.”

“Don’t mention it.
We’re in this together. Get some rest. I’ll call you later.”

Phillip waved as
she drove away. He fumbled with his keys and half-wished his grandmother would
open the door. When he entered through the kitchen, his grandmother was laying
face down on the kitchen table. A coffee cup in her hand.

Phillip nudged
her. “Grandma, I’m home.”