"A Small Leak Can Sink A Great Ship"
Alex awoke to the sound of rain hitting her bedroom window and instantly became uneasy. She pulled her pillow around her ears and attempted to block out the desolate noise and fall back asleep. Although the rain now sounded miles away, it was still audible.
"Dammit!" She growled as she threw her blanket off and jumped out of bed.
While carefully avoiding looking out the window, she stomped off into the bathroom and splashed her face with ice cold water. The bathroom mirror was cracked in the upper left-hand corner, but her face was completely visible. Her dark brown hair hung limp around her broad shoulders. It was longer than it had ever been, reaching way past her shoulders. Her angular face was tan, but unhappy; her mouth seemed to be in a permanent frown and her would-be pretty green eyes looked too experienced, too lonely for her young age. At 28, she was anything but carefree and happy. Alex was a very edgy girl. Some people would even call her obsessive.
She shook thoughts of those people out of her head before she quickly pulled a brush through her long locks and brushed her teeth. Now with that out of the way, she went out into her small living room/kitchen area and stood, with her hands on her hips, looking around.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing to do in this place..." Alex frowned even more deeply and walked over to the table next to her couch. She yanked open its draw and found a tattered book inside.
Titanic. "You have got to be kidding me." Alex tossed the book back into the draw and slammed it shut.
She walked over to the small refrigerator and glanced inside, then opened the rest of the cabinets, closing each one after she looked in it.
"Nothing. At all. Fantastic." Alex sat heavily on the sofa and pretended not to hear the rain pounding on the sidewalk outside. Eventually, her growling stomach drowned out the rain and she was forced to go hunt for food.
She pulled on her dark green raincoat and stepped out into the hallway, slamming her door behind her. The "23" on her door swayed from side to side, but remained attached. She glanced in both directions before walking towards the main entrance of Wilshire Towers.
Before she made it out the door, however, she noticed a young boy wearing a rather large businessman's suit intently writing. She planned on sneaking past him, but he looked up from his clipboard as she eased open the front door.
"Can I help you Ms...?"
Her voice cracked as she spoke, "Alex....but everyone calls me Captain."
She inwardly scolded herself for letting that one slip. She was supposed to be starting a new life here, not trying to relive her old one.
"Alright, Captain." He smiled exposing a missing tooth. "Where are you going?"
"...I was going to get something to eat."
"You should go to Jorri Rae's. Just go left until you reach the end of the street, then take another left and it's on your right. They have really good waffles." He smiled again then went back to scribbling on his clipboard.
Alex slipped out of Wilshire Towers into the rain. Once again she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget everything. Soon enough she found herself at Jorri Rae's ordering a waffle and forgetting about the rain.
Friday, March 5, 2010
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I thought I saw a handful of tenants (the new girl, Alex - and I think she was hanging out with Ethan's new roommate, that macaroni guy, whatever his name is; if she was, that kind of ruins my gay theory a little) tonight, enjoying themselves on the rides. Maybe I'll try one of them out.
ReplyDelete"Really, I don't mind. It was nice of you to try." Alex tucked the bear key-chain into her shirt pocket so its beady black eyes could peer out from over the top, mockingly. The stuffed elephant that I hadn't won watched our backs as we made a hasty departure from the booth.
ReplyDeleteI sighed and kicked a pebble. "Sorry my aim's not better."
She grinned. "I thought it was funny when you hit that guy in the arm."
"It was not!" I shouted. "He wanted to kill me! Did you see the size of his neck? It was wider than my torso!"
Alex shook her head. "I was too busy looking at the dart sticking out of his arm to notice his neck."
I kicked at a clump of grass sprouting out from a crack in the pavement. "There are those water gun things. I was always pretty good at shooting, well better than darts, anyway..."
Alex's eyes bulged and she swallowed audibly. "I don't think..."
"Don't be silly," I said, taking her hand and pulling her along with me, trying to ignore the fact that her fingers were squirming in mine. Am I doing something wrong? Should I let go? But I don't want her to think I don't want to hold her hand. I do. I just don't want to make her uncomfortable. Am I making her uncomfortable? Am I over thinking this? I know I'm over thinking this.
By the time I had made up my mind to drop her hand, we were already to the shooting booth, and it was her that pulled away from me. I turned to her as I reached into my pocket, pulled out my last five, and handed it to the guy in the booth. At least I'd already paid rent this month...
Alex was pale. Sweat shone on her face. She stared at the water guns. Her hands shook as she rubbed her shoulders and swayed on her feet like someone trying to keep their balance. "I have..." she croaked. "I have to go. I'm sorry," she whispered before running away.
I called after her, but she didn't come back.
"You gonna play?"
I frowned at the guy in the booth. "Can I just get my money back?"
He said nothing, just pointed to a sign on the wall beside the rack of prizes. No refunds.
I played and I lost and I went home empty handed.
Glancing at his red plastic watch, Louie calculated that he had about 20 minutes before he had to be at the bowling alley- just enough time to buy a doughnut at Jorri Rae's diner before work. Somehow, things seemed to unravel when life was just slightly off schedule.
ReplyDeleteLouie rounded the corner, and there was Jorri Rae's, where you could get the best stack of waffles around. Inside, he saw a few people that he recognized, though he hadn't been at Wilshire for long; A tall brunette that he recognized from the first floor hung her head over a stack of greasy food, and a few others moved about the diner, ordering large plates of what they hoped to be comfort food on this unsettling day. Perhaps, if he wasn't in such a hurry, he would say hello, but the day was slipping by.
This is how Louie usually spends the few first hours of the morning - in a rush. If the morning was cut out of every day of his life, it wouldn't matter much to him. Clock in, clock out, and it's done with. This particular rainy day was no exception, aside from the new carnival that seemed to have sprung up overnight.
On a whim, he bought a ticket for the ferris wheel.
AN EXCERPT FROM "The Adventure of the Missing Two"
ReplyDelete“Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun-coloured houses. What could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the use of having powers, Doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them?”
- Sherlock Holmes, Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of the Four
. . .
Two is an important number. It is the only prime number that is also even. In nature everything seems to come in twos. Light and dark. Positive charge and negative charge. Matter and antimatter. Male and female. So too in mythology. Heaven and Hell. Sky and earth. Mind and body. Life and death.
We have two hands, and two eyes, two feet, and two kidneys. There are two sides to every coin, and every argument. You need two people to have a marriage.
“Got a problem Mr. Alwyn?”
“My two’s been stolen,” I say before I look at my interrogator.
The boy has a thoughtful look on his face. He’s holding the same useless clipboard and wearing the same ridiculous over-sized suit as he was my first day at Wilshire Tower.
“Looks like a Mystery to me.” He says it with a capital M.
“You know,” I say, “You’re right. It is a mystery.”
“Are you a detective Mr. Alwyn?”
“Kind of,” I say. “A detective who only solves mysteries no one else cares about.”
“Well then this will be perfect! Who else would care about the location of your two?”
“Good point,” I say and I begin to wander off, unsure of my direction. The flip flop of Braxton Chamber’s clown shoes follows me like a cartoon echo of my steps.
“Except for me, of course!” He says. A serious look crosses his face. “Inspector Alwyn, can I be your deputy?”
“Detectives don’t have deputies, that’s for sheriffs,” I say, but the way he looks down at his toes and twists his mouth stops me from continuing. I wonder how many times he paced by my door that morning, waiting for me to exit, to notice what was missing, to enlist his aid in this very important mission. Possibly he had planned for the chance that I wouldn’t notice, had readied sly ways to draw my attention to the empty space on my door.
Well, I had nothing better to do.
I followed my odd guide on a wandering path through the building. As we explored I realized how little of Wilshire Tower I’d actually seen. Each floor had its own character. Seven was probably a full half of a foot lower down on the east end than the west end. On floor five I thought they’d installed new wallpaper, until I realized the green pattern was most likely organic.
Thirteen seemed to have its own floor plan entirely, as though the architect forgot about it until the last minute and had to improvise. This may not be so far from the truth, as the elevator doesn’t seem to go to floor thirteen. Instead we were forced to use the stairs, or at least the sixty percent of them that weren’t almost rotted through.
Luckily, Braxton knew which ones were safe. I waited before following him, watching him jump up the stairs nimbly and assuredly in a demented game of hopscotch.
On each floor we visited, Braxton would choose a room at random and knock – a surprisingly solid knock. Then he would wait, coughing importantly until the door was answered, when would squint his eyes and look up at the wary tenant.
“My associate,” he would say, “is missing his two.”
There might be a response, but even if there wasn’t he would go on.
“I’d just like to ask you a few questions.”
Next was the part where variations were allowed.
“Mr. Marconi,” he might say, “what is your favorite color?” Or “Mr. Oedkirk, have you frequented the antiques store lately?” Or "Captain Alex, were you aware that Mr. T is not, in fact, the official Fruit Loops mascot?"
. . .
So...you know how they always say that we will end up becoming like our parents? Well I just found myself fitting into that group. I remember getting in my patrol car a little before lunch time, I guess a little 20 minute coma and woke up at the shooting range. Now mind you, i'm a pretty damn good shot, but i guess with this freak-show comin to town I decided to get a little practice. Well, on my way back, that damn bus-driver pulled out in front of me and i clipped the hell out of him. I was forced up onto the sidewalk, and almost hit a poor girl on her way to get somethin to eat. Alex, her name was Alex. Cute girl, looked sad. I can't stand sad people. I gave the bus driver a ticket, but I saw him driving just as recklessly today. It makes me wonder whether i'm actually making any difference at all in Wilshire.
ReplyDeleteWell anyway no shots will be fired at the carnival, I hope. Just have fun but always stay cautious. I have put in a request to the city officials that they make kids under the age of 18 be accompanied by an adult, but that doesn't look like it will follow through. I think it is ridiculous that they give me the responsibility lowering the crime rate around here, and making people more comfortable, but they decide not to uphold any of my requests to make the town safer. It kills me. But anyway, stay safe. And let me know if you need anything at all.
Lt. Rocco Statone
"To Protect and Serve"
281-330-8004
The long- haired girl stopped. She took a few steps towards the street, backwards so she could look up at me.
ReplyDelete"Who the fuck do you think you are asshole?" The girl said ... O.k. I got the picture ... sensitive topic. SEE I KNEW NOT EVERYONE WAS CURED!!! I should have approached her from closer ... like not from 50 fucking floors up from her.
"I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I don't deny it. I can't stop. I won't stop ... Well, I will if I run out of food ... but all of the places around here deliver and I work online so like I was saying I WONT STOP!!!! But I need to ..." said a quavering man.
I look down ... I see a familiar head ... The head turns, and the man looks up.
It's Jeb. What the fuck ... I am trying to solicit here and he's freakin BUISNESS BLOCKING!!!
Wait.
Did he say he was a stress eater? DID HE SAY HE HAD A PROBLEM AND HE NEEDED HELP STOPPING?!?!??!?!?!?!
O.K. I can't fuck this up ... I have two perfect life support members here ... We've got a defensive bitch, who possibly has a stress eating issue ... and a fearfull chubster ... awesome ... Don't fuck this up John ... we NEED THIS ...
"Hey Jeb," I say just so he knows his presence is known and feels included, "Listen ... " I say motioning at the girl standing in the street. "How about a knosh? Let's say ..." I'm interuppted.
Who the fuck is this schmechel?
"EXCUSE ME SONS ..." says a fat officer holding a hot dog in one hand and a lemonade in the other.
You know, police officers should have an off duty sign like taxis do ... THAT WAY if they are off duty and try to govern us in any way we can just say "FUCK YOU YOU'RE OFF DUTY!!!!"
"Yes sir?" Jeb says in a quavering voice ... (what's new?) He can be such a suckup this guy ... it's probably because hes a freaking baby and wants to be in good with the police JUST IN CASE.
"Hi ya'll, I'm Lt. Rocco Statone. Just tryin' to keep a safe neighborhood 'round these here parts ..."
"I SUPPORT YOU COMPLETELY," says Jeb giving him a dumbass salute.
The officer shakes his head.
"Anyways, please get back in your windows ... Don't want anybody fallin' out now you hear? Sanitation isn't too good 'round here so ya'lls bodies could be rottin' on this hear street for days."
"SURE THING OFFICER. THANKYOU FOR SERVING OUR COUNTRY!"
Jeb, you are such a FAG.
Lt. schmehel carries on.
"As I was saying," I start, "How about a little snack ... Jeb you need to get out, I need to help people, and you my dear ... I think you need a friend."
I point to the carnival across the street.
"Funnel cakes and beer?" I gesture. I know Bubby wouldn't approve ... and that the food at that carnival isn't the only thing not Kosher, but ... this is buisness, right?
"Umm ... is there security there?" Jeb askes.
Of course.
"I'm in ... I don't know why ... but I am ..." says the girl shrugging her shoulders.
"It's kind of chilly ... I better not go ... I think I'm getting sick anyways," Jeb said, shaking his head.
"Great." I say to the girl. "Jeb," I say shaking my head, "YOU'RE COMMING."
The girl started walking towards the fair, and Jeb was silent.
"Well ... O.k. I guess ... Will you come get me John? These elevators are unpredictable and I don't want to get stuck in there alone and you won't know where I am and the girl will wonder what happend to me and my parents will never know because YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO CALL AND TELL THEM BECAUSE YOU WON'T KNOW AND ..."
I cut him off; I have to.
"COMMING RIGHT NOW."
I look out to see if the girl is still in sight.
She's not.
"By the way, my name's Alex," said the girl, screaming from a block away.
The carnival is a sad site. There's a ferris wheel that's about to break off and roll away; run away. The bumper cars have been through DUI's and hit and runs. The haunted house is just a house of mirrors, so we can see the ghosts and monsters that we are. The only person I see doesn't look familiar, hasn't been in this town too long. Some woman riding one of those swinging boat rides, saying, "Aye-aye, captain!" Her life would be a lot easier if the ride just crashed and burned.
ReplyDelete