Theodore Bennett trudged along the banks of the Penobscot River toward home, lost in thought, as if holding a silent conversation with himself. “Well, that’s it, Theo, you’re unemployed,” echoed in his mind. The bitterness stung because he’d been fired, essentially, for nothing. The paperwork cited “misuse of authority”—an accusation blown out of proportion. He hadn’t decided how to move forward: fight on or throw in the towel and dive headfirst into despair. Theo wasn’t eager to get home—his wife had made it clear he was no longer needed.
The reason was obvious: she’d found a wealthy suitor, promising a fairy-tale life. What could Theodore Bennett, a humble general practitioner at a small-town hospital, offer? He never chased money, treated patients with integrity, prescribed only what was necessary, sparing them extra costs. Things might have been bearable if the old hospital director hadn’t retired. The new one, Arthur Powell, declared the hospital would now operate “the modern way.”
These changes hit the doctors and staff hard. Under Arthur’s orders, everyone scurried around the department like wind-up toys, following his endless directives. One day, it was planting a flowerbed with bright blooms outside the windows; the next, installing a bulletin board with staff photos and bios. The halls buzzed with his commands, but the core mission—patient care—seemed forgotten.
When everyone was busy polishing appearances for the next inspection, who was left to help the patients? Theo once tried to protest, but it was futile. Arthur scribbled something in his notebook and gave him a pointed look. Two days later, Theo was fired.
It wasn’t just a dismissal: they accused him of taking a bribe, supposedly caught on a hidden camera Arthur had secretly installed in his office. “What did I do to deserve this? I’ll never wash off this shame. There was no bribe!” Theo whispered bitterly, staring at the river. It flowed calmly, indifferent to human woes.
In the gray haze of evening twilight, he noticed two hunched figures. At first glance, nothing unusual—the riverbank was open to all. But something about them caught his attention. Forgetting his troubles, Theo peered closer. “What are they doing out here this late?” he wondered.
Fishermen? No gear in sight. Looking closer, he saw it was a man and woman. A hundred yards from the water stood their vehicle—a large SUV, its headlights fading into the dusk. “Definitely not fishermen,” Theo decided. Spotting him, the pair tensed and began speaking in a strange language.
The language was familiar to Theo—he’d been fascinated by translations since childhood, reading books in their original tongues. Friends often teased, “You picked the wrong path; you should’ve been a translator!” He froze, surprised. “Foreigners? What are they doing here?” Curiosity got the better of him, and he slowed his pace.
As he drew level with the mysterious pair, Theo, a language enthusiast, couldn’t resist the chance to hear live foreign speech. His scholarly appearance didn’t seem to alarm them, and they continued talking, though quieter. He caught snippets: “The stone… Where do we find a stone?” the woman grumbled. “Herman, I told you, we should’ve brought the weight in the car.”
“No worries, we’ll figure it out. Grab some sand in a bag—plenty of it on the shore,” the man, clearly younger, replied. They could’ve been mother and son, perhaps they were. The words unsettled Theo. They weren’t overtly threatening, but the pair’s furtive movements stirred unease.
The strangers assumed their language hid their conversation. How could they know a polyglot like Theo was nearby? He walked past, deliberately heading toward their SUV. To his surprise, the trunk was open, and a dim light glowed inside. A driver sat at the wheel, listening to faint music.
At first, Theo thought fishing nets were in the trunk, but closer inspection revealed a blanket. It was moving. A chill ran down his spine. Glancing back, he saw the pair on the shore engrossed in their task, not looking his way. Theo decisively lifted the blanket—and froze. Beneath it lay a young woman, barely conscious, mumbling incoherently. She was clearly in shock.
Without hesitation, he gently scooped up the fragile stranger and hurried toward nearby bushes. There was no time to waste—if the foreigners noticed her missing, they’d come looking. “Quiet, quiet! Hang on,” he whispered, pushing through the undergrowth. But as he reached the bushes’ edge, an angry shout rang out—now in clear English: “Hey, where are you going? I’m talking to you!”
Theo quickened his pace. He realized something sinister was afoot on the shore. Thankfully, the woman was light, and fear fueled his strength. Were the pursuers armed? He didn’t know, but he now understood what “stones” they meant—likely, the criminals planned to drown their victim.