Ugh.
At home now, earlier than scheduled because I'm on Attend C. Can't complain much since I get a nice, longer weekend I suppose. It would've been so much better if my head didn't feel like a jackhammer though. I've got my Situational test coming up soon, but I'm so vehemently against the idea of going to Command School that I'll probably not do very well for it. (*wink*)
I could go to Command School if I wanted though, but... that's just it. I don't want to. I just want a nice posting where I can book out everyday, and see my kitten anytime I want to, and that has absolutely nothing to do with combat. I know, we can't always get what we want. But wanting... if you don't have any desires, if you don't actively strive for that something better in life, well, you might as well die now. I never saw a point in the defeatist POV, that "oh, I'll never get something like that."
Maybe it's because I've mostly gotten what I strived for. Getting a place in SJI, in CMM, for example. Maybe I'm used to getting what I want. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing I can't say for sure.
I do know, however, that I'll soon be out of the hellhole known as Pulau Tekong. And the rest of my life ahead.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
An ode to the day before NS
Goodbye computer, goodbye chair
Goodbye wavy locks of hair
Where am I going? What do I do?
How do I survive without getting screwed?
Regardless of time, regardless of date
There'll be only one thing that I know for sure that I'd hate
That's not being beside you, seeing you smile
While I am jogging for miles and miles.
I'll be back soon, I pray and I hope.
That I'll be safe while I'm climbing ropes.
Not just ropes, not just running
Or wearing helmets while machine-gunning.
I'll miss you guys badly, while I'm away
But one more than others I still need to say
You all know who, her name rhymes with "bitten"
Need I mention that it's my kitten?
Well, pretty much. I'll miss all of you people a lot. The comforts of home, the warm showers, air conditioning, and the using of hair styling products are but secondary to you guys. I'll see you people soon.
Goodbye computer, goodbye chair
Goodbye wavy locks of hair
Where am I going? What do I do?
How do I survive without getting screwed?
Regardless of time, regardless of date
There'll be only one thing that I know for sure that I'd hate
That's not being beside you, seeing you smile
While I am jogging for miles and miles.
I'll be back soon, I pray and I hope.
That I'll be safe while I'm climbing ropes.
Not just ropes, not just running
Or wearing helmets while machine-gunning.
I'll miss you guys badly, while I'm away
But one more than others I still need to say
You all know who, her name rhymes with "bitten"
Need I mention that it's my kitten?
Well, pretty much. I'll miss all of you people a lot. The comforts of home, the warm showers, air conditioning, and the using of hair styling products are but secondary to you guys. I'll see you people soon.
Friday, July 23, 2004
I wrote this yesterday.
It's not easy at all to get something like this out. You think you have the words to put down, but everytime you get down to it they slip out of your grasp.
Tomorrow me and my family are going to visit our cat one last time before we put him down. He lived a good long life at 14, though I'd always hoped he'd die of old age. We found him in 1990, a stray cat that was just slower than the rest of his kin. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the nicest thing to do but heck, it was my parents who caught him, not me.
Me and my siblings are 4-8, and in all our infinite and vast imaginations, we named him Kitty. It wasn't the most creative name, but it was the first time we actually had a cat. When he first came to join our family, he was a snarling spitfire of a cat, who spent most of the time skulking outside the apartment rather than inside. He warmed up to us soon after though, but he wouldn't hesitate to retaliate if you did him wrong.
We moved soon after to a house in a more suburban area, with a nice garden my mother could plant her flowers in. Kitty fancied himself as the guardian of our house, and used to sit on the porch every night and pick fights with the other cats in the neighbourhood. We often came downstairs in the morning to find a few wounds on him, and we'd try to shut him in the house for the night, but he always made it outside. He broke his leg in a car accident once, but being a tough bastard he made it through.
As he got older, we got another cat, Sandy, who appeared up in the rafters one day and didn't know how to come down. This was in 1998 or 1999 or so. She didn't seem to mind staying with us, but Kitty took every opportunity to be as mean as he could to her, and hissed often. He was the man of the house, and he knew it.
Even though he was tough, he was affectionate to those who loved him. Once, my dad screamed the hell out of me for getting bad grades, and Kitty curled up beside me while I slept. When my dad tried to pet him later that day, he hissed and snarled at him. I didn't know a thing though, until my parents told me.
It was recently that Kitty showed signs of getting old. He'd gotten a bad skin/fur condition and ran away to hide and die in solitude that cats seem to do. We found him, and tried to carry him home but kept struggling. After a visit to the vet, he was back to normal a few days later. He started getting slower, and less agile than before. He'd have difficulty scaling the sofa, or any height, and would climb onto it more than jump. He used to climb onto me while I was playing PS2 lying down, and settle on my stomach or my chest while I played. It didn't matter if I stroked him, or not, he purred loudly just being around.
A few days ago, he disappeared again overnight. I went out to look for him the next day, and found him in the afternoon, huddled under a drain. It took a while, but we eventually got him out, but not without some loud, plaintive, almost aggressive meowing, as if we'd robbed him of the death in solitude that he wanted. We took him back to the house and cleaned him again, because he stank. Badly. We noticed he'd lost a lot of weight, and we could feel his spine and other bones jutting out. Which we found really, really odd. Still, he ate a little and slept a lot over the next couple of days. He also had excessive saliva production, which I thought was down to him getting old.
We took him to the vet yesterday, to see if there was anything wrong with him. Before we left in the car though, he managed to piss all over my mother who was cradling him in her arms. After putting him in a cage, we set off again. My dad remarked, "Well, at least his kidneys are working."
As the vet examined our cat, she remarked with dismay that he was quite dehydrated, and that she could feel something in his belly, and that he'd have to be warded to be diagnosed, with an X-ray, and blood tests, and all that stuff. We were told it might be kidney failure, and if it was so, there was nothing much that they could do. They promised to call with the results later that night, and they did.
It was indeed kidney failure. Not only that, but he'd somehow gotten a hernia too. The decision was made, and it was thought that it was better to put him down than let him suffer. I asked if we were going to cremate him, so that we'd have something of him to remember him by, but my parents wanted to bury him as he'd always loved the outdoors. It was fitting, and maybe that is what he'd always have wanted, to stand watch over the house as he'd done for well over a decade.
24/7/2004
I just came back from the vet, and it was tough to see Kitty on a drip, with a cone around his neck. Me and my family stayed to say our goodbyes, and we stroked him, petted him and tried to comfort him in the minutes leading up to when we had to put him to sleep. He still purred, though he didn't meow in the whole time we were there, like he understood what was going to happen.
In the end only my mother and I stuck around for the act. The vet took a syringe of green liquid, and laid a cloth on the table. We were told beforehand that when they go, they might literally let go of everything in their bladder, or regurgitate whatever they had in their stomachs. Thankfully nothing like that happened, and he died very peacefully. Crying, tears rolling down my face, I stroked his head as his eyes slowly half-closed, and then he was no more.
We buried him in the front garden, with a fish and a bag of cat food that he'd never go hungry, as we said our goodbyes.
R.I.P, Kitty. You were loved. I'll miss you so much. Thanks for the companionship. I'll never have a cat like you again.
It's not easy at all to get something like this out. You think you have the words to put down, but everytime you get down to it they slip out of your grasp.
Tomorrow me and my family are going to visit our cat one last time before we put him down. He lived a good long life at 14, though I'd always hoped he'd die of old age. We found him in 1990, a stray cat that was just slower than the rest of his kin. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the nicest thing to do but heck, it was my parents who caught him, not me.
Me and my siblings are 4-8, and in all our infinite and vast imaginations, we named him Kitty. It wasn't the most creative name, but it was the first time we actually had a cat. When he first came to join our family, he was a snarling spitfire of a cat, who spent most of the time skulking outside the apartment rather than inside. He warmed up to us soon after though, but he wouldn't hesitate to retaliate if you did him wrong.
We moved soon after to a house in a more suburban area, with a nice garden my mother could plant her flowers in. Kitty fancied himself as the guardian of our house, and used to sit on the porch every night and pick fights with the other cats in the neighbourhood. We often came downstairs in the morning to find a few wounds on him, and we'd try to shut him in the house for the night, but he always made it outside. He broke his leg in a car accident once, but being a tough bastard he made it through.
As he got older, we got another cat, Sandy, who appeared up in the rafters one day and didn't know how to come down. This was in 1998 or 1999 or so. She didn't seem to mind staying with us, but Kitty took every opportunity to be as mean as he could to her, and hissed often. He was the man of the house, and he knew it.
Even though he was tough, he was affectionate to those who loved him. Once, my dad screamed the hell out of me for getting bad grades, and Kitty curled up beside me while I slept. When my dad tried to pet him later that day, he hissed and snarled at him. I didn't know a thing though, until my parents told me.
It was recently that Kitty showed signs of getting old. He'd gotten a bad skin/fur condition and ran away to hide and die in solitude that cats seem to do. We found him, and tried to carry him home but kept struggling. After a visit to the vet, he was back to normal a few days later. He started getting slower, and less agile than before. He'd have difficulty scaling the sofa, or any height, and would climb onto it more than jump. He used to climb onto me while I was playing PS2 lying down, and settle on my stomach or my chest while I played. It didn't matter if I stroked him, or not, he purred loudly just being around.
A few days ago, he disappeared again overnight. I went out to look for him the next day, and found him in the afternoon, huddled under a drain. It took a while, but we eventually got him out, but not without some loud, plaintive, almost aggressive meowing, as if we'd robbed him of the death in solitude that he wanted. We took him back to the house and cleaned him again, because he stank. Badly. We noticed he'd lost a lot of weight, and we could feel his spine and other bones jutting out. Which we found really, really odd. Still, he ate a little and slept a lot over the next couple of days. He also had excessive saliva production, which I thought was down to him getting old.
We took him to the vet yesterday, to see if there was anything wrong with him. Before we left in the car though, he managed to piss all over my mother who was cradling him in her arms. After putting him in a cage, we set off again. My dad remarked, "Well, at least his kidneys are working."
As the vet examined our cat, she remarked with dismay that he was quite dehydrated, and that she could feel something in his belly, and that he'd have to be warded to be diagnosed, with an X-ray, and blood tests, and all that stuff. We were told it might be kidney failure, and if it was so, there was nothing much that they could do. They promised to call with the results later that night, and they did.
It was indeed kidney failure. Not only that, but he'd somehow gotten a hernia too. The decision was made, and it was thought that it was better to put him down than let him suffer. I asked if we were going to cremate him, so that we'd have something of him to remember him by, but my parents wanted to bury him as he'd always loved the outdoors. It was fitting, and maybe that is what he'd always have wanted, to stand watch over the house as he'd done for well over a decade.
24/7/2004
I just came back from the vet, and it was tough to see Kitty on a drip, with a cone around his neck. Me and my family stayed to say our goodbyes, and we stroked him, petted him and tried to comfort him in the minutes leading up to when we had to put him to sleep. He still purred, though he didn't meow in the whole time we were there, like he understood what was going to happen.
In the end only my mother and I stuck around for the act. The vet took a syringe of green liquid, and laid a cloth on the table. We were told beforehand that when they go, they might literally let go of everything in their bladder, or regurgitate whatever they had in their stomachs. Thankfully nothing like that happened, and he died very peacefully. Crying, tears rolling down my face, I stroked his head as his eyes slowly half-closed, and then he was no more.
We buried him in the front garden, with a fish and a bag of cat food that he'd never go hungry, as we said our goodbyes.
R.I.P, Kitty. You were loved. I'll miss you so much. Thanks for the companionship. I'll never have a cat like you again.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
I needed that...
Now that I'm fully rested and recuperated (read: got off my lazy arse to blog), it's time to blog about my time in KL.
Tuesday, 18th of May
Got up reeeeally early to change and get ready for the trip. Messaged the kitten good morning, but was so sleepy I spelled my name wrong. Left the house with Mum at about 6 or so to go pick the kitten up. Picked her up around 630 or so (she kept saying her bag made her look like a turtle, bleah. Everyone knows tortoises are the land ones.) Made our way to Lavender MRT to meet people and depart finally. When we got there, was surprised to see Danny and Lynn there. Surprised more that Danny was there more than Lynn. Hahaha.
Eventually, the rest of the fellowship joined us, and after a mix up involving our bus we boarded the bus headed for KL, which unfortunately had the airconditioning broken down. So it was sweat, sweat and more sweating as we trundled our way to Malaysia (Truly Asia)'s capital. Reached there 6 or so hours later. Tried to sleep on the way but I just can't sleep in the day time. Kinda like a reverse vampire. Ah well. Danny asked the bus driver to drop us off at the Swiss Garden, which thankfully saved us a bit of walking. After yet another muckup of the payment, we finally managed to check into our hotel rooms. The first thing I did was to put my bag on the floor. The next was to crash on the bed, and flip through the channels on the TV. The channels suck, by the way.
After a short rest period, went out shopping with the rest at a nearby shopping mall of which I can't remember the name. Anyway, let it be said that Danny and I went crazy and many PS2 DVDs were bought, and I was out quite a bit of cash on only the first day. had dinner at Okonomiyaki downstairs, which was pretty damn good, and we went over to Chinatown to do more shopping. It was really, really crowded, and about every 5 steps there'd be a table selling pirated DVDs. I was accosted by this guy who grabbed my arm and asked: "Porno, you want porno?" Sleazy guys with bad accents aside, I shrugged him off. Danny found a really cheap pirated DVD stall (comparatively that is) and just about everyone went crazy. Well, almost everyone. Serene bought absolutely no contraband whatsoever. Crazy. After pocketing a grand total of about 36 DVDs, we walked around some more. Kitten bought 2 pairs of shoes, along with Lynnette, the both of them self-proclaimed Purple Prostitutes. *cough*
Had some roadside hawker food before leaving, and damn if the food isn't fantastic. Huge wantan stuffed with really big and juicy prawns. It didn't really matter that the soup was chock full of MSG, it mattered that it tasted pretty freaking awesome. Took the shuttle back to the hotel and proceeded to crash.
Wednesday, 19th of May
Woke up at about 8, changed and showered and went downstairs to have what turned out to be a really good breakfast. Huge spread of stuff to eat, and I sure wasn't complaining. The rest strolled in around 9.45 onwards, and had their fill. After that, it was upstairs to the hotel rooms to change and get ready, and we went off to Sunway Lagoon (after a fair bit of negotiations with the cabby, by Danny to squeeze 5 people in one cab). After some deliberation when we got there we decided to go on the land rides first. Much to my chagrin. Ironically, I'm afraid of heights. Yeah, I know.
Started off on some small rides first, and then went to the Great Canyon River Rapids ride. I stayed mostly dry, while poor Kitten, Serene and Edwina got the brunt of the water splashing. Even on our second run through. Bwahahhaa. Anyway, after all the smallish easy rides, everyone wanted to go on the Tomahawk. I hear it was a really good ride. I wouldn't know as my eyes were closed all the way through it. After that the gang wanted to go on Lost Gold. Said my prayers and then had a ride. That was enough high angle, high velocity, ball cracking rides for one day, and the rest of us decided to go for the water rides.
We changed, and had a pretty fun 2 or 3 hours, while the rest shopped. Got an massage from a mushroom (ha.) and then splashed about with the guys, while the girls went to talk by themselves for a while. We all met up around 6, though we didn't have time to walk on the huge suspension bridge sadly. Went to the Sunway Pyramid for a spot of shopping after that. Had dinner at KFC (which is quite a step down from the KFC here. Blech.), and after that I wanted to go check out the Comics shop there, but it was sorely lacking. Eventually I bought a couple of Tshirts and a pair of berms, but it was mostly me tagging along with the Kitten as she shopped (mostly for accessories).
Took another cab back to the hotel, and after some lazing around went for Dim Sum with Kitten, Edwina, Siwei, Andy and KuiBao. Went to what seems to be the only 23 hour joint (I maintain the 1 hour is to relac one corner) in the world, and had some absolutely incredible Dim Sum. We all bought ourselves Ramly burgers, and got some Dim Sum takeaway for the rest who didn't want to go. (boo.) Went back to the hotel, and brought the Dim Sum back for the very grateful room 818. The whole crew piled into the room to watch The Rock (with Sean Connery! I am a whore for cool accents) and I ate my Ramly burger. It was full of artery clogging goodness. The good guys won the day, and the room dispersed. I watched some weird movie with Danny Devito in it, and eventually got to sleep around 3 or so. And it was yet another day the next day.
Thursday, 20th of May
Somehow managed to wake up for breakfast, and then later we piled into our room to discuss what we were gonna do that day. Turned on the telly, and it was yet another Danny Devito movie. Must have been Danny Devito week or something. Anyway, we went off on a sojourn of shopping malls in the area. Went to Sungei Wang first, which was mostly uneventful except for the fact that we managed to lose about half of the group for a good half an hour I think. Then Lot 10, which was mostly useless. After that, we had some sushi, and after some aimless walking about we went back to the hotel to rest and recuperate.
Most of us crashed onto the bed and slept for an hour straight. We regrouped and went off to explore Times Square, which had a roller coaster inside. One with corkscrew twists and a huge loop. Yippee skip. I stayed out along with Andy, Danny and Liling, while the rest happily (and Siwei almost too happily) bought admission. Of course, I took care of their bags. We had McDonald's for dinner, while the rest of them had screaming and twisting. Occasionally the non-crazy crew would look up to see people screaming past on the roller coaster, then shrug and continue eating. After that we walked around exploring Times Square (it was going to be a long hour plus). I bought a nice Emily tee for Kitten (purple and it had cats on it, I couldn't go wrong) as Danny and Andy bought DVDs, and Liling bought some handphone accessories.
After much aimless walking, the crazy crew were done at the amusement park. I surprised Kitten with her Tshirt and she helped pay for half of my shiny new Soundwave toy =D It was off to Zouk after that, and we were pleasantly surprised at the lack of people walking about inside at 1030 at night. It was kind of like Phuture swallowed what Zouk was, everything was a mix of hip hop and R&B music. Of course later I learned that the place only really closed by 5 am, so... yeah. Had a bit too much to drink, but Lynnette, Serene and Edwina apparently had too much fun at the amusement park. They drank a bit much quickly got quite sick, leading Danny to escort them and Liling for some reason back to the hotel, leaving the rest of us to dance like madmen. (Like a maniac, maniac!) We eventually got tired and went for supper. Which. Was. Amazing. Stingray, Hor Fun, Chicken Wings, even the Fried Rice was delicious. We returned to the hotel after that, and saw the denizens of 818 crashed on the bed. Poor them. Had a quick shower/soak in the tub, and went to bed.
Friday, 21st of May
It was the last day. Was woken up by my mother on the phone at about 8 something. Woke up again at about 9.45, it was too late to have breakfast downstairs (okay, it wasn't, but we wanted to finish our instant noodles). So we bummed around, and started packing up to go home. Boooo. Said goodbye to the hotel room, and then we went off to check out. We did some last minute shopping at Times Square, where I showed Kitten the shop with all the Emily tees, and I bought a windchime for Mum. We went to Pudu Raya next to try to find the coach agency, but it took some walking about and noxious exhaust fumes before we reached our goal. We found it (it was some small dingy shack) and got our bus number (5555. I'm somehow surprised I managed to remember it. No, really.) Had a quick KFC lunch (the portions are absolutely tiny. I'm sorry for doubting Singaporean portions.) and then went off to wait for the bus to arrive. Siwei went to buy some A&W (Curly Fries!) and people took some last photos of KL. Then it was back to Singapore.
Along the way, with rest stops with brown water (to think I almost washed my face) and traffic accidents, I couldn't sleep. So I spent the time talking crap with the Hair twins (read: Siwei and Lynnette.) Got down at another rest stop, where Kitten and I bought various snacks, and had some dubious Hor Fun that couldn't hold a match, let alone a candle to the Hor Fun we had previously. A few hours later, we reached Customs. Most of us debated leaving our ill-gotten gains on the bus, but decided to bring them down. Good thing, too - They didn't seem to care that we had them, even Danny's haul. Poor Lynn got checked, but she got through okay in the end too. Either way, we were back in Singapore. Some of us took cabs back, while the rest went back some other way. We learned how Lynnette almost became a trolley, and reminisced a little about KL. I sent Kitten back home, and took a cab home myself. Crashed into bed, and it was yet another day the next day.
Now that I'm fully rested and recuperated (read: got off my lazy arse to blog), it's time to blog about my time in KL.
Tuesday, 18th of May
Got up reeeeally early to change and get ready for the trip. Messaged the kitten good morning, but was so sleepy I spelled my name wrong. Left the house with Mum at about 6 or so to go pick the kitten up. Picked her up around 630 or so (she kept saying her bag made her look like a turtle, bleah. Everyone knows tortoises are the land ones.) Made our way to Lavender MRT to meet people and depart finally. When we got there, was surprised to see Danny and Lynn there. Surprised more that Danny was there more than Lynn. Hahaha.
Eventually, the rest of the fellowship joined us, and after a mix up involving our bus we boarded the bus headed for KL, which unfortunately had the airconditioning broken down. So it was sweat, sweat and more sweating as we trundled our way to Malaysia (Truly Asia)'s capital. Reached there 6 or so hours later. Tried to sleep on the way but I just can't sleep in the day time. Kinda like a reverse vampire. Ah well. Danny asked the bus driver to drop us off at the Swiss Garden, which thankfully saved us a bit of walking. After yet another muckup of the payment, we finally managed to check into our hotel rooms. The first thing I did was to put my bag on the floor. The next was to crash on the bed, and flip through the channels on the TV. The channels suck, by the way.
After a short rest period, went out shopping with the rest at a nearby shopping mall of which I can't remember the name. Anyway, let it be said that Danny and I went crazy and many PS2 DVDs were bought, and I was out quite a bit of cash on only the first day. had dinner at Okonomiyaki downstairs, which was pretty damn good, and we went over to Chinatown to do more shopping. It was really, really crowded, and about every 5 steps there'd be a table selling pirated DVDs. I was accosted by this guy who grabbed my arm and asked: "Porno, you want porno?" Sleazy guys with bad accents aside, I shrugged him off. Danny found a really cheap pirated DVD stall (comparatively that is) and just about everyone went crazy. Well, almost everyone. Serene bought absolutely no contraband whatsoever. Crazy. After pocketing a grand total of about 36 DVDs, we walked around some more. Kitten bought 2 pairs of shoes, along with Lynnette, the both of them self-proclaimed Purple Prostitutes. *cough*
Had some roadside hawker food before leaving, and damn if the food isn't fantastic. Huge wantan stuffed with really big and juicy prawns. It didn't really matter that the soup was chock full of MSG, it mattered that it tasted pretty freaking awesome. Took the shuttle back to the hotel and proceeded to crash.
Wednesday, 19th of May
Woke up at about 8, changed and showered and went downstairs to have what turned out to be a really good breakfast. Huge spread of stuff to eat, and I sure wasn't complaining. The rest strolled in around 9.45 onwards, and had their fill. After that, it was upstairs to the hotel rooms to change and get ready, and we went off to Sunway Lagoon (after a fair bit of negotiations with the cabby, by Danny to squeeze 5 people in one cab). After some deliberation when we got there we decided to go on the land rides first. Much to my chagrin. Ironically, I'm afraid of heights. Yeah, I know.
Started off on some small rides first, and then went to the Great Canyon River Rapids ride. I stayed mostly dry, while poor Kitten, Serene and Edwina got the brunt of the water splashing. Even on our second run through. Bwahahhaa. Anyway, after all the smallish easy rides, everyone wanted to go on the Tomahawk. I hear it was a really good ride. I wouldn't know as my eyes were closed all the way through it. After that the gang wanted to go on Lost Gold. Said my prayers and then had a ride. That was enough high angle, high velocity, ball cracking rides for one day, and the rest of us decided to go for the water rides.
We changed, and had a pretty fun 2 or 3 hours, while the rest shopped. Got an massage from a mushroom (ha.) and then splashed about with the guys, while the girls went to talk by themselves for a while. We all met up around 6, though we didn't have time to walk on the huge suspension bridge sadly. Went to the Sunway Pyramid for a spot of shopping after that. Had dinner at KFC (which is quite a step down from the KFC here. Blech.), and after that I wanted to go check out the Comics shop there, but it was sorely lacking. Eventually I bought a couple of Tshirts and a pair of berms, but it was mostly me tagging along with the Kitten as she shopped (mostly for accessories).
Took another cab back to the hotel, and after some lazing around went for Dim Sum with Kitten, Edwina, Siwei, Andy and KuiBao. Went to what seems to be the only 23 hour joint (I maintain the 1 hour is to relac one corner) in the world, and had some absolutely incredible Dim Sum. We all bought ourselves Ramly burgers, and got some Dim Sum takeaway for the rest who didn't want to go. (boo.) Went back to the hotel, and brought the Dim Sum back for the very grateful room 818. The whole crew piled into the room to watch The Rock (with Sean Connery! I am a whore for cool accents) and I ate my Ramly burger. It was full of artery clogging goodness. The good guys won the day, and the room dispersed. I watched some weird movie with Danny Devito in it, and eventually got to sleep around 3 or so. And it was yet another day the next day.
Thursday, 20th of May
Somehow managed to wake up for breakfast, and then later we piled into our room to discuss what we were gonna do that day. Turned on the telly, and it was yet another Danny Devito movie. Must have been Danny Devito week or something. Anyway, we went off on a sojourn of shopping malls in the area. Went to Sungei Wang first, which was mostly uneventful except for the fact that we managed to lose about half of the group for a good half an hour I think. Then Lot 10, which was mostly useless. After that, we had some sushi, and after some aimless walking about we went back to the hotel to rest and recuperate.
Most of us crashed onto the bed and slept for an hour straight. We regrouped and went off to explore Times Square, which had a roller coaster inside. One with corkscrew twists and a huge loop. Yippee skip. I stayed out along with Andy, Danny and Liling, while the rest happily (and Siwei almost too happily) bought admission. Of course, I took care of their bags. We had McDonald's for dinner, while the rest of them had screaming and twisting. Occasionally the non-crazy crew would look up to see people screaming past on the roller coaster, then shrug and continue eating. After that we walked around exploring Times Square (it was going to be a long hour plus). I bought a nice Emily tee for Kitten (purple and it had cats on it, I couldn't go wrong) as Danny and Andy bought DVDs, and Liling bought some handphone accessories.
After much aimless walking, the crazy crew were done at the amusement park. I surprised Kitten with her Tshirt and she helped pay for half of my shiny new Soundwave toy =D It was off to Zouk after that, and we were pleasantly surprised at the lack of people walking about inside at 1030 at night. It was kind of like Phuture swallowed what Zouk was, everything was a mix of hip hop and R&B music. Of course later I learned that the place only really closed by 5 am, so... yeah. Had a bit too much to drink, but Lynnette, Serene and Edwina apparently had too much fun at the amusement park. They drank a bit much quickly got quite sick, leading Danny to escort them and Liling for some reason back to the hotel, leaving the rest of us to dance like madmen. (Like a maniac, maniac!) We eventually got tired and went for supper. Which. Was. Amazing. Stingray, Hor Fun, Chicken Wings, even the Fried Rice was delicious. We returned to the hotel after that, and saw the denizens of 818 crashed on the bed. Poor them. Had a quick shower/soak in the tub, and went to bed.
Friday, 21st of May
It was the last day. Was woken up by my mother on the phone at about 8 something. Woke up again at about 9.45, it was too late to have breakfast downstairs (okay, it wasn't, but we wanted to finish our instant noodles). So we bummed around, and started packing up to go home. Boooo. Said goodbye to the hotel room, and then we went off to check out. We did some last minute shopping at Times Square, where I showed Kitten the shop with all the Emily tees, and I bought a windchime for Mum. We went to Pudu Raya next to try to find the coach agency, but it took some walking about and noxious exhaust fumes before we reached our goal. We found it (it was some small dingy shack) and got our bus number (5555. I'm somehow surprised I managed to remember it. No, really.) Had a quick KFC lunch (the portions are absolutely tiny. I'm sorry for doubting Singaporean portions.) and then went off to wait for the bus to arrive. Siwei went to buy some A&W (Curly Fries!) and people took some last photos of KL. Then it was back to Singapore.
Along the way, with rest stops with brown water (to think I almost washed my face) and traffic accidents, I couldn't sleep. So I spent the time talking crap with the Hair twins (read: Siwei and Lynnette.) Got down at another rest stop, where Kitten and I bought various snacks, and had some dubious Hor Fun that couldn't hold a match, let alone a candle to the Hor Fun we had previously. A few hours later, we reached Customs. Most of us debated leaving our ill-gotten gains on the bus, but decided to bring them down. Good thing, too - They didn't seem to care that we had them, even Danny's haul. Poor Lynn got checked, but she got through okay in the end too. Either way, we were back in Singapore. Some of us took cabs back, while the rest went back some other way. We learned how Lynnette almost became a trolley, and reminisced a little about KL. I sent Kitten back home, and took a cab home myself. Crashed into bed, and it was yet another day the next day.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Neutral Milk Hotel - Holland 1945
The only girl I’ve ever loved
Was born with roses in her eyes,
But then they buried her alive one evening 1945 with just her sister at her side
And only weeks before the guns all came and rained on everyone,
Now she’s a little boy in Spain playing pianos filled with flames
On empty rings around the sun all sing to say my dream has come.
But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.
And now we ride this circus wheel,
With your dark brother wrapped in white,
Says it was good to be alive,
But now he rides a comet’s flame and won’t be coming back again,
The Earth looks better from a star that’s right above from where you are,
He didn’t mean to make you cry with sparks that ring and bullets fly
On empty rings around your heart the world just screams and falls apart.
But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.
And here’s where your mother sleeps,
And here is the room where your brothers were born,
Indentions in the sheets,
Where their bodies once moved but don’t move any more.
And it’s so sad to see the world agree that they’d rather see their faces fill with flies,
All when I’d want to keep white roses in their eyes.
The only girl I’ve ever loved
Was born with roses in her eyes,
But then they buried her alive one evening 1945 with just her sister at her side
And only weeks before the guns all came and rained on everyone,
Now she’s a little boy in Spain playing pianos filled with flames
On empty rings around the sun all sing to say my dream has come.
But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.
And now we ride this circus wheel,
With your dark brother wrapped in white,
Says it was good to be alive,
But now he rides a comet’s flame and won’t be coming back again,
The Earth looks better from a star that’s right above from where you are,
He didn’t mean to make you cry with sparks that ring and bullets fly
On empty rings around your heart the world just screams and falls apart.
But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.
And here’s where your mother sleeps,
And here is the room where your brothers were born,
Indentions in the sheets,
Where their bodies once moved but don’t move any more.
And it’s so sad to see the world agree that they’d rather see their faces fill with flies,
All when I’d want to keep white roses in their eyes.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
At a crossroads
I've come to almost the end of my school life (for now). As does thousands upon thousands of people in my place, I'm thinking:
I could go learn driving.
Of course, like everyone else, I'll be in:
And then when I get out, what kind of jobs can I find? I need a stable financial base, just to live somewhere and eat without somehow getting malnutrition.
Forgive me if I do sound a bit pessimistic... not much that lies ahead for me. Though after all that crap, I do have one great thing to look forward to:
And I can't wait.
I've come to almost the end of my school life (for now). As does thousands upon thousands of people in my place, I'm thinking:
I could go learn driving.
Of course, like everyone else, I'll be in:
And then when I get out, what kind of jobs can I find? I need a stable financial base, just to live somewhere and eat without somehow getting malnutrition.
Forgive me if I do sound a bit pessimistic... not much that lies ahead for me. Though after all that crap, I do have one great thing to look forward to:
And I can't wait.
Sunday, March 21, 2004
It's been a while... some eclectic thoughts
Yeap. I figured this thing could use an update, since so many people have been linking to me, only to probably see the last few posts of a story that could have used a lot of work, and an update that's about 2 months old. Not that it's been much of an update either.
Been sick recently - I suppose it's the perfect accompaniment to the stress of having so many bullshit assignments to do. I don't know. Maybe it's the weather that gets everyone down in more ways than one. A lot of people aren't feeling too great, physically and emotionally. What can I do?
"You have to be a good guy, since there're way too many of the bad."
I love that line. It's from Preacher, which Kitten got for me for V-day. Another thing I probably should have blogged about, but oh well. Heh.
It's just a month of school left. I don't quite know how I'm going to spend the 2 months before I get indoctrinated. Which I'm not exactly looking forward to either.
I don't know about you, but strangely, despite all the things in life that should be dragging me down, I don't feel as down as many others are. Maybe I just don't think about it as much? Hard to say.
Yeap. I figured this thing could use an update, since so many people have been linking to me, only to probably see the last few posts of a story that could have used a lot of work, and an update that's about 2 months old. Not that it's been much of an update either.
Been sick recently - I suppose it's the perfect accompaniment to the stress of having so many bullshit assignments to do. I don't know. Maybe it's the weather that gets everyone down in more ways than one. A lot of people aren't feeling too great, physically and emotionally. What can I do?
"You have to be a good guy, since there're way too many of the bad."
I love that line. It's from Preacher, which Kitten got for me for V-day. Another thing I probably should have blogged about, but oh well. Heh.
It's just a month of school left. I don't quite know how I'm going to spend the 2 months before I get indoctrinated. Which I'm not exactly looking forward to either.
I don't know about you, but strangely, despite all the things in life that should be dragging me down, I don't feel as down as many others are. Maybe I just don't think about it as much? Hard to say.
Friday, January 09, 2004
Monday, December 08, 2003
part 12
Not again.
I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of deja vu as vision came swimming back. For the second time in recent memory I'd gone unconscious. A very annoying habit that I swore wouldn't have to continue. This time, though, I found myself at the business end of a high caliber firearm. The kind that took your hand off, and that's if you were holding the gun. As I shook the cobwebs from my brain, I noticed whose hand was holding the gun.
She laughed. Sent a shiver up my spine, and not in a good way. If I could find a way to describe the feeling I got from that laugh, it'd have been something like a rattlesnake's death rattle.
"Welcome back."
"Woulda preferred to stay asleep if you don't mind."
"I think we can accede to that request."
I saw her finger tighten around the trigger. Crying out, I dove behind a counter and cursed as I landed badly, twisting my ankle.
"Don't."
I stiffened as I heard the voice. It was... Rancini?
"Yuh pull the tregguh and the cops'll be onnis place like i'wuhs nuthin'."
"Yes, sir."
This development was too much. Nothing made sense anymore. At first, I'd suspected Bouchard had dropped in from out of town, working for some rich consortium. Then I find out she'd worked for Rancini before, but skipped town when they fell out. Now this servant-boss thing had my mind in boy scout knots. I needed, no, HAD to get to the bottom of this. That is, if I lived.
"You can come out now, Mr. Garrett. Hands up. Mr. Rancini wants you alive."
Putting my hands behind my head, I'd have to comply if I wanted to learn anything. Standing up slowly, I met the steely, gaze of Bouchard, followed by the blank, yet menacing, glare of Rancini. Rancini spoke first.
"Garrett."
"Rancini."
"Glad you could make it."
"Yeah, I- wha?"
"Shocked, aren't you? Things aren't always what they seem, wouldn't you agree?"
"I've... had occasion to find that out for myself. Anyway, what the hell is going on?"
Rancini laughed. Now that he wasn't what he'd seemed, he was a lot scarier. Of course, a stunted old man wasn't too scary to begin with. Now that he was standing, well... I'd forgotten what a big man he was.
"A miracle of science. You remember when I became half-paralyzed, don't you? Turns out I'm all better now. Had the finest surgeons in the country flown in to fix me."
"But... when? And why continue to put up a sham?"
"My.... empire was beginning to crumble. Small timers like Louie Two Fingers, the Russian mob, moving in on MY territory. This city is MINE! I built it from the ground up, and I'll be damned before I let others take it from me! They all thought I was weak, my... disability hampering my ruthlessness. No more! I gotta take back what's rightfully mine, and crush anyone who tries to defy my law! Yes, their complacency'll be their undoing. They'll never know, like bugs on your shoe, until the moment they die - until it's too late."
Rancini had quite thoroughly snapped. It was like he was speaking out of cliche, like all big villains gripped in-the-throes-of-madness do.
"But why involve me?"
Rancini glared at me, as if angry that I'd interrupted his lengthy ranting. Then his features softened, and he grinned.
"Theo Garrett, best and only detective in Lost Haven. Gets where no man can. Where no man has gone before! I needed you, and I have my daughter to thank for that." Then, almost maniacally, he smiled. "You're the example I'm going to make to the rest of them."
He raised his gun. Everything happened in a blur of motion. Rancini's finger tightened around the trigger, but before it could fully depress it, Bouchard spun, and aimed her own gun at his head.
A gunshot.
When the figurative smoke cleared I found her standing over Rancini's body. What was left of Rancini's head was staining the carpeted floor. A pool of blood slowly spread out, and was slowly absorbed.
"Is.. is it true? What he said?"
"About me being his daughter? Yes. I mean, no. I mean... a long time ago. I might have meant something to him once."
"What happened?"
She smiled, sadly.
"You weren't paying attention, were you? Him and his stupid empire. At first I'd thought that once he had control of the city he'd ease up, treat me like I was actually family. But it never happened." She looked almost wistful as she continued. "So I left. Naturally, he wanted to control everything in his life and didn't allow me to go. I... I-"
Faintly in the background, sirens began to scream. "I... I understand. Cassandra. I... you'd best be leaving. Flee. Get out of the country, don't come back."
"No, you don't! With Ranci- my father dead, the power vacuum will be too large to fill! The city will erupt with in-fighting, and-"
The sirens sounded like they were about ten blocks away now. We'd have to get out of there quick.
"Cassandra! This isn't the time for reflection! Move!"
She snapped back to attention, surprised. Whatever she was thinking on the inside, she managed to hide for the moment. She fled for the fire escape. I watched her shrink out of view, then made my own way down. I ducked into an alley, just as the police came around the corner. It was over.
Epilogue
I stood on my balcony, savouring the metropolitan air. The television set droned in the background.
"-nd with crimelord Rancini's death, the city of Lost Haven has become a warzone. Today, eleven people were ki-"
It was the same news about Lost Haven since I'd left. That was about 2 months ago to the day. Screw them.
I sat back on my deckchair and rummaged around in my cooler for a beer. As it opened with a pop and a fizzle, some foam surged up and spilt over. Didn't matter, the cleaning lady'll handle that.
The sun rose over a beautiful skyline. I took a swig, and toasted the morning.
The End.
Not again.
I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of deja vu as vision came swimming back. For the second time in recent memory I'd gone unconscious. A very annoying habit that I swore wouldn't have to continue. This time, though, I found myself at the business end of a high caliber firearm. The kind that took your hand off, and that's if you were holding the gun. As I shook the cobwebs from my brain, I noticed whose hand was holding the gun.
She laughed. Sent a shiver up my spine, and not in a good way. If I could find a way to describe the feeling I got from that laugh, it'd have been something like a rattlesnake's death rattle.
"Welcome back."
"Woulda preferred to stay asleep if you don't mind."
"I think we can accede to that request."
I saw her finger tighten around the trigger. Crying out, I dove behind a counter and cursed as I landed badly, twisting my ankle.
"Don't."
I stiffened as I heard the voice. It was... Rancini?
"Yuh pull the tregguh and the cops'll be onnis place like i'wuhs nuthin'."
"Yes, sir."
This development was too much. Nothing made sense anymore. At first, I'd suspected Bouchard had dropped in from out of town, working for some rich consortium. Then I find out she'd worked for Rancini before, but skipped town when they fell out. Now this servant-boss thing had my mind in boy scout knots. I needed, no, HAD to get to the bottom of this. That is, if I lived.
"You can come out now, Mr. Garrett. Hands up. Mr. Rancini wants you alive."
Putting my hands behind my head, I'd have to comply if I wanted to learn anything. Standing up slowly, I met the steely, gaze of Bouchard, followed by the blank, yet menacing, glare of Rancini. Rancini spoke first.
"Garrett."
"Rancini."
"Glad you could make it."
"Yeah, I- wha?"
"Shocked, aren't you? Things aren't always what they seem, wouldn't you agree?"
"I've... had occasion to find that out for myself. Anyway, what the hell is going on?"
Rancini laughed. Now that he wasn't what he'd seemed, he was a lot scarier. Of course, a stunted old man wasn't too scary to begin with. Now that he was standing, well... I'd forgotten what a big man he was.
"A miracle of science. You remember when I became half-paralyzed, don't you? Turns out I'm all better now. Had the finest surgeons in the country flown in to fix me."
"But... when? And why continue to put up a sham?"
"My.... empire was beginning to crumble. Small timers like Louie Two Fingers, the Russian mob, moving in on MY territory. This city is MINE! I built it from the ground up, and I'll be damned before I let others take it from me! They all thought I was weak, my... disability hampering my ruthlessness. No more! I gotta take back what's rightfully mine, and crush anyone who tries to defy my law! Yes, their complacency'll be their undoing. They'll never know, like bugs on your shoe, until the moment they die - until it's too late."
Rancini had quite thoroughly snapped. It was like he was speaking out of cliche, like all big villains gripped in-the-throes-of-madness do.
"But why involve me?"
Rancini glared at me, as if angry that I'd interrupted his lengthy ranting. Then his features softened, and he grinned.
"Theo Garrett, best and only detective in Lost Haven. Gets where no man can. Where no man has gone before! I needed you, and I have my daughter to thank for that." Then, almost maniacally, he smiled. "You're the example I'm going to make to the rest of them."
He raised his gun. Everything happened in a blur of motion. Rancini's finger tightened around the trigger, but before it could fully depress it, Bouchard spun, and aimed her own gun at his head.
A gunshot.
When the figurative smoke cleared I found her standing over Rancini's body. What was left of Rancini's head was staining the carpeted floor. A pool of blood slowly spread out, and was slowly absorbed.
"Is.. is it true? What he said?"
"About me being his daughter? Yes. I mean, no. I mean... a long time ago. I might have meant something to him once."
"What happened?"
She smiled, sadly.
"You weren't paying attention, were you? Him and his stupid empire. At first I'd thought that once he had control of the city he'd ease up, treat me like I was actually family. But it never happened." She looked almost wistful as she continued. "So I left. Naturally, he wanted to control everything in his life and didn't allow me to go. I... I-"
Faintly in the background, sirens began to scream. "I... I understand. Cassandra. I... you'd best be leaving. Flee. Get out of the country, don't come back."
"No, you don't! With Ranci- my father dead, the power vacuum will be too large to fill! The city will erupt with in-fighting, and-"
The sirens sounded like they were about ten blocks away now. We'd have to get out of there quick.
"Cassandra! This isn't the time for reflection! Move!"
She snapped back to attention, surprised. Whatever she was thinking on the inside, she managed to hide for the moment. She fled for the fire escape. I watched her shrink out of view, then made my own way down. I ducked into an alley, just as the police came around the corner. It was over.
Epilogue
I stood on my balcony, savouring the metropolitan air. The television set droned in the background.
"-nd with crimelord Rancini's death, the city of Lost Haven has become a warzone. Today, eleven people were ki-"
It was the same news about Lost Haven since I'd left. That was about 2 months ago to the day. Screw them.
I sat back on my deckchair and rummaged around in my cooler for a beer. As it opened with a pop and a fizzle, some foam surged up and spilt over. Didn't matter, the cleaning lady'll handle that.
The sun rose over a beautiful skyline. I took a swig, and toasted the morning.
The End.
Monday, December 01, 2003
part 11
The elevator doors slid soundlessly open. The air here felt different, like stepping out of a steambath. Felt... cleaner. Unconsciously, I caressed the holster at the side of my leg, not knowing what to expect. Stepping out of the elevator, I wasn't surprised at seeing Bouchard standing there waiting for me. She reminded me of a Porsche - sleek, sexy and ultimately hazardous to your health, if you didn't know what you were doing.
"Why Mr. Garrett, what brings you here?"
"Social visit. Wanted ta see if you were staying here while you were in the Haven."
I couldn't let her know I was onto her scam. No telling what details I could miss out on if her guard was up. It was chilling how innocent she looked, but was capable of more malevolence than she let on.
"How very nice, Mr. Garrett. Would you care for a drink?"
"Bourbon, if you got it. No ice."
"Sounds very strong, Mr. Garrett. You sure about that?
"Just oiling the machine, Cass."
She disappeared behind the bar of the penthouse suite. Never realised how much opulence and extravagance this suite had. I made a mental note to sneak in more often, just to forget the stark contrast to the city. I sat down at the table. Carved out of mahogany, with a shimmering sheen to it. I let out a low whistle as I marvelled at the place.
Bouchard reappeared, carrying two glasses and a familiar, welcome sight - A big bottle of the good stuff. This was the kind of thing I treated myself to when I had cash. This stuff was the out-of-town stuff - It'd been a long time since I'd even seen a bottle of it, let alone buy one.
"You've got good taste." I said, managing to take my eyes off the bottle.
"Good taste? It's the only taste I know!" She laughed and set a glass in front of me. Through it, I noticed how warped and distorted everything seemed through it. It made me think about how easily manipulated anyone could be, given the right circumstance and material to do it with. I wasn't an exception at any rate. Bent over backwards like a Slinky for cash. It was downright embarassing, is what it was.
She poured some bourbon into first my glass, then hers. Clinking our glasses together, I gulped down my shot of bourbon and poured another. Bouchard sipped at hers delicately.
"So, Mr. Garrett, how is the case going?"
"It's... fine. Got a lead I'm working on right now."
"I'd love to hear about it, M-"
"Theo, please."
"Haha, Theo it is then. Enjoying your drink?"
I was beginning to feel drowsy. Her words were getting drowned out, began to boom. Soon, all I saw was black.
The elevator doors slid soundlessly open. The air here felt different, like stepping out of a steambath. Felt... cleaner. Unconsciously, I caressed the holster at the side of my leg, not knowing what to expect. Stepping out of the elevator, I wasn't surprised at seeing Bouchard standing there waiting for me. She reminded me of a Porsche - sleek, sexy and ultimately hazardous to your health, if you didn't know what you were doing.
"Why Mr. Garrett, what brings you here?"
"Social visit. Wanted ta see if you were staying here while you were in the Haven."
I couldn't let her know I was onto her scam. No telling what details I could miss out on if her guard was up. It was chilling how innocent she looked, but was capable of more malevolence than she let on.
"How very nice, Mr. Garrett. Would you care for a drink?"
"Bourbon, if you got it. No ice."
"Sounds very strong, Mr. Garrett. You sure about that?
"Just oiling the machine, Cass."
She disappeared behind the bar of the penthouse suite. Never realised how much opulence and extravagance this suite had. I made a mental note to sneak in more often, just to forget the stark contrast to the city. I sat down at the table. Carved out of mahogany, with a shimmering sheen to it. I let out a low whistle as I marvelled at the place.
Bouchard reappeared, carrying two glasses and a familiar, welcome sight - A big bottle of the good stuff. This was the kind of thing I treated myself to when I had cash. This stuff was the out-of-town stuff - It'd been a long time since I'd even seen a bottle of it, let alone buy one.
"You've got good taste." I said, managing to take my eyes off the bottle.
"Good taste? It's the only taste I know!" She laughed and set a glass in front of me. Through it, I noticed how warped and distorted everything seemed through it. It made me think about how easily manipulated anyone could be, given the right circumstance and material to do it with. I wasn't an exception at any rate. Bent over backwards like a Slinky for cash. It was downright embarassing, is what it was.
She poured some bourbon into first my glass, then hers. Clinking our glasses together, I gulped down my shot of bourbon and poured another. Bouchard sipped at hers delicately.
"So, Mr. Garrett, how is the case going?"
"It's... fine. Got a lead I'm working on right now."
"I'd love to hear about it, M-"
"Theo, please."
"Haha, Theo it is then. Enjoying your drink?"
I was beginning to feel drowsy. Her words were getting drowned out, began to boom. Soon, all I saw was black.
Monday, November 24, 2003
part 10
I don't know what I expected when I opened the suitcase. Maybe for the money to be gone, replaced with stacks of blank paper. Maybe torn-up, specks of decomposed paper that used to be money. So when 2 and a half million dead presidents stare back up at you, you can't do much but smile. The money was still here.
I had to find Bouchard. The when was now, the why for revenge. Where was the tricky one. Where to start? I looked back at the card she'd given me. Staring at it as if for some divine inspiration. Damn it. Well, if I wasn't the stupid one. She'd have to stay at the Hotel. It was the only place someone like her'd consider decent. The only problem I should conceivably have was finding her room. It was a small enough place that even trial and error wasn't a bad way to go.
Some time later I stood outside the Hotel. It wasn't that I was lazy or didn't bother to find the name. It really was called "The Hotel". Leave it to Lost Haven residents for the creative names. An ugly mass of neon letters composed the Hotel's name. Of course, several letters were shorted out, leaving a blinking sign that said "heel" instead. Appropriate, in a way. On the wall around the corner some hoodlums had made their ugly mark the only way they could. Graffiti wasn't uncommon in these parts. Some time ago the mayor announced a campaign to clean up all the graffiti, but it reappeared as soon as it was gone. Uglier, louder, messier. The door groaned in protest, almost as if protesting actually having to work properly. If anything, the Hotel was nicer on the inside. Then again, considering what it had to start with, that wasn't really saying much at all. Somehow ugliness had a way of attracting itself. The receptionist was snoring away in some corner, leaving the guest book in the open, but more importantly, unwatched. I was right on both counts. Bouchard WAS here.
Penthouse suite. Somehow I considered that ironic. If it was a confrontation I was after, at least it'd be done with nothing to hide. Surrounded by open air. Nothing to hide.
Stepping in the lift felt like putting my head on the gullotine block. Whatever happened would be at least one of two things: Life changing, and irreversible. Outside, the wind howled with a fury I'd never seen. Nothing was stopping me, though. One way or another this was going to end.
I don't know what I expected when I opened the suitcase. Maybe for the money to be gone, replaced with stacks of blank paper. Maybe torn-up, specks of decomposed paper that used to be money. So when 2 and a half million dead presidents stare back up at you, you can't do much but smile. The money was still here.
I had to find Bouchard. The when was now, the why for revenge. Where was the tricky one. Where to start? I looked back at the card she'd given me. Staring at it as if for some divine inspiration. Damn it. Well, if I wasn't the stupid one. She'd have to stay at the Hotel. It was the only place someone like her'd consider decent. The only problem I should conceivably have was finding her room. It was a small enough place that even trial and error wasn't a bad way to go.
Some time later I stood outside the Hotel. It wasn't that I was lazy or didn't bother to find the name. It really was called "The Hotel". Leave it to Lost Haven residents for the creative names. An ugly mass of neon letters composed the Hotel's name. Of course, several letters were shorted out, leaving a blinking sign that said "heel" instead. Appropriate, in a way. On the wall around the corner some hoodlums had made their ugly mark the only way they could. Graffiti wasn't uncommon in these parts. Some time ago the mayor announced a campaign to clean up all the graffiti, but it reappeared as soon as it was gone. Uglier, louder, messier. The door groaned in protest, almost as if protesting actually having to work properly. If anything, the Hotel was nicer on the inside. Then again, considering what it had to start with, that wasn't really saying much at all. Somehow ugliness had a way of attracting itself. The receptionist was snoring away in some corner, leaving the guest book in the open, but more importantly, unwatched. I was right on both counts. Bouchard WAS here.
Penthouse suite. Somehow I considered that ironic. If it was a confrontation I was after, at least it'd be done with nothing to hide. Surrounded by open air. Nothing to hide.
Stepping in the lift felt like putting my head on the gullotine block. Whatever happened would be at least one of two things: Life changing, and irreversible. Outside, the wind howled with a fury I'd never seen. Nothing was stopping me, though. One way or another this was going to end.
Monday, November 17, 2003
part 9
My head whirled, making the headache even worse. As the gorilla in my cranium grew to King Kong proportions, I got the rest of the sordid story from Rancini. Bouchard was working for Rancini a year back. She quit under uncertain circumstances, but not before putting a bullet into Rancini's spine, freezing his body in the delightful, twisted way it is. Bouchard disappeared until recently, when she reappeared in Rancini's trophy room and liberated the Esprit. Bouchard finds me having breakfast the day after. My headache reached levels hitherto and untracked by Man.
Back in my office, I pondered. Who was Bouchard working for? Why did she turn on Rancini? And the million dollar question, Mr. Philbin, was why she offered me money to track down something she already had? The only logical thing for someone to do was to try to get something for as little as possible. Even... something for nothing. Was all I was for was a simple distraction? Maybe she wanted to get me distracted so I focused all my attention on tracking the artifact, and none on the client. Classic. Maybe even hire me before Rancini did. All I knew was the chessboard pieces were scattered again. Pawns to queens, and crippled kings, whereas I was, and still remained, a pawn.
A shrill ring shattered my reverie. It was Phelps.
"Got summin' for ya Theo."
"Can't hurt to hear it I guess."
"Huh?"
"Just shoot."
"Oh, uh, right. This Cassandra Bouquet-"
"Bouchard."
"Whatever. She usedta work for the Rancini mob."
"I know, and?"
"Doncha get pissy with me Garrett. I hang up now and you're hung out to dry."
He had a point. I'd come to the stage where I let my anger at being used be shown for all to see. I needed to regain composure, or the case would just fall apart.
"I-I'm sorry Morgan. Go on."
"Right. Anyway she disappeared 'bout a year back, think she skipped town or summin, weird shit like that. Anyway, get this: she was some kinda researcher or a scientist."
"What's so special about that?"
"Ah, 'ccording to this she was about ta develop summin' new. Instantly-degradable plastics, it says here."
"That... that makes a whole lotta sense Morgan. Thanks."
"Actually if you ask me it don't, really. I mean, plastic's wunna those things that ain't s'posed to break down or summin' like that right? Right?"
I let the dialtone answer his question. I had to check. I ran over to the suitcase Bouchard had left the other day, tucked into the corner of the room. I hid it with the luggage, thinking it'd be more camouflaged that way. With trembling hands, I slowly slid the tumblers into place. With my hands shaking as they were, it took me the better part of a minute to get all three into the right combination. The case sprung open, and I damn near had a heart attack.
My head whirled, making the headache even worse. As the gorilla in my cranium grew to King Kong proportions, I got the rest of the sordid story from Rancini. Bouchard was working for Rancini a year back. She quit under uncertain circumstances, but not before putting a bullet into Rancini's spine, freezing his body in the delightful, twisted way it is. Bouchard disappeared until recently, when she reappeared in Rancini's trophy room and liberated the Esprit. Bouchard finds me having breakfast the day after. My headache reached levels hitherto and untracked by Man.
Back in my office, I pondered. Who was Bouchard working for? Why did she turn on Rancini? And the million dollar question, Mr. Philbin, was why she offered me money to track down something she already had? The only logical thing for someone to do was to try to get something for as little as possible. Even... something for nothing. Was all I was for was a simple distraction? Maybe she wanted to get me distracted so I focused all my attention on tracking the artifact, and none on the client. Classic. Maybe even hire me before Rancini did. All I knew was the chessboard pieces were scattered again. Pawns to queens, and crippled kings, whereas I was, and still remained, a pawn.
A shrill ring shattered my reverie. It was Phelps.
"Got summin' for ya Theo."
"Can't hurt to hear it I guess."
"Huh?"
"Just shoot."
"Oh, uh, right. This Cassandra Bouquet-"
"Bouchard."
"Whatever. She usedta work for the Rancini mob."
"I know, and?"
"Doncha get pissy with me Garrett. I hang up now and you're hung out to dry."
He had a point. I'd come to the stage where I let my anger at being used be shown for all to see. I needed to regain composure, or the case would just fall apart.
"I-I'm sorry Morgan. Go on."
"Right. Anyway she disappeared 'bout a year back, think she skipped town or summin, weird shit like that. Anyway, get this: she was some kinda researcher or a scientist."
"What's so special about that?"
"Ah, 'ccording to this she was about ta develop summin' new. Instantly-degradable plastics, it says here."
"That... that makes a whole lotta sense Morgan. Thanks."
"Actually if you ask me it don't, really. I mean, plastic's wunna those things that ain't s'posed to break down or summin' like that right? Right?"
I let the dialtone answer his question. I had to check. I ran over to the suitcase Bouchard had left the other day, tucked into the corner of the room. I hid it with the luggage, thinking it'd be more camouflaged that way. With trembling hands, I slowly slid the tumblers into place. With my hands shaking as they were, it took me the better part of a minute to get all three into the right combination. The case sprung open, and I damn near had a heart attack.
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
(sorry for the late entry. was really busy last night.)
part 8
I was creeping around the outside of Rancini's house when the world went black. At first I thought the moon had denied me its last shred of light, or that I was creeping further and further into darkness. Me opening my eyes told me I was wrong on at least the first count.
Rancini's ugly mug loomed in, and I wished I was knocked out again.
"Wha' ya doon ou'side m' house, Garrett? Yuh wan' yuh shuh die or somethin'?"
My head throbbed. Had a headache the size of a gorilla, and the monkey wanted out. The stench emanating from Rancini's mottled lips and teeth wasn't making it much better.
"Aaaah, god.. whaddya hit me with?"
"Whaddit mattuh?"
"Nothin', nothin', just curious. I gotta golf club sized lump on my head from what it feels like."
"Whatevuh makes yuh feel bettuh, Garrett... But yuh wunn be feeling bettuh anytime soon if yuh dunn tell me wha' ya' doon on muh lawn."
"Would you believe I was lookin' for somethin'?"
"Iss nadda first time, Garrett."
"Might not be the last time too."
"Wha' ya lookin' fuh now?"
"Espirit de Renard... heard of it?"
Rancini flinched, and I knew I hit a nerve. They called Rancini the unfeeling man, not only because of his ruthlessness in doing... business, but also because he literally couldn't feel. The entire left side of his body was stiff like me waking up with a hangover, and that contributed to his unique articulatory traits. Not to say his tennis game was a pushover, at the very least.
"Iss guhn, Garrett. Guht stolen."
Now there was news I didn't want to hear. I felt like I finally had things in my grasp, only for things to slip away again. And again. Somehow I felt life was a twisted mirror of myself, distorting and shifting once I thought I had things under control.
"Any idea who took it?"
Any weakness in Rancini's demeanour vanished. His features hardened, even more than I thought possible.
"B'shard."
part 8
I was creeping around the outside of Rancini's house when the world went black. At first I thought the moon had denied me its last shred of light, or that I was creeping further and further into darkness. Me opening my eyes told me I was wrong on at least the first count.
Rancini's ugly mug loomed in, and I wished I was knocked out again.
"Wha' ya doon ou'side m' house, Garrett? Yuh wan' yuh shuh die or somethin'?"
My head throbbed. Had a headache the size of a gorilla, and the monkey wanted out. The stench emanating from Rancini's mottled lips and teeth wasn't making it much better.
"Aaaah, god.. whaddya hit me with?"
"Whaddit mattuh?"
"Nothin', nothin', just curious. I gotta golf club sized lump on my head from what it feels like."
"Whatevuh makes yuh feel bettuh, Garrett... But yuh wunn be feeling bettuh anytime soon if yuh dunn tell me wha' ya' doon on muh lawn."
"Would you believe I was lookin' for somethin'?"
"Iss nadda first time, Garrett."
"Might not be the last time too."
"Wha' ya lookin' fuh now?"
"Espirit de Renard... heard of it?"
Rancini flinched, and I knew I hit a nerve. They called Rancini the unfeeling man, not only because of his ruthlessness in doing... business, but also because he literally couldn't feel. The entire left side of his body was stiff like me waking up with a hangover, and that contributed to his unique articulatory traits. Not to say his tennis game was a pushover, at the very least.
"Iss guhn, Garrett. Guht stolen."
Now there was news I didn't want to hear. I felt like I finally had things in my grasp, only for things to slip away again. And again. Somehow I felt life was a twisted mirror of myself, distorting and shifting once I thought I had things under control.
"Any idea who took it?"
Any weakness in Rancini's demeanour vanished. His features hardened, even more than I thought possible.
"B'shard."
Monday, November 03, 2003
part 7
I decided I needed to make a house call. I stood outside the gates to Rancini’s house, I was on the outside, looking in. I despised Rancini and what he stood for. His beautiful life acquired through ugly means, his house built on the backs of broken men. Usually I stayed out of his way, and he out of mine. Though maybe he thought me nothing to get worried about at all. I figured that even if Rancini didn’t have the Espirit, he’d know where I could find it. And who I’d have to get it from. I wasn’t in the business of museum robbery. Figured something with that kind of reputation would go to someone’s head, just another trophy locked up and admired in someone’s cabinet. And then a new trophy is acquired, and the other one is forgotten. I’d seen it all before.
I vaulted over the wall, landing behind some bushes. The grass rustled beneath my feet, whispering silent warnings to those who would care to listen. The clouds shrouded my movement, denying all but the most persevering the faintest sliver of light. I had to make my way to the house silently, and lemme be the first to tell you that’s not an easy thing to do.
You need to start walking on your heel, then slowly roll your foot from the back to the front, on the ball of your feet Anyone who’s seen this being done or has done it before can tell you: You look like a damn fool doing it.
With regards to human companionship, I was pretty much as good as alone. A lifetime of solitude and preference for the bottle pretty much helped in that regard. As much as the loneliness hurt, I had my own companion by proxy. I called her Ender.
She was my trusty revolver. I removed her from her leather bed and held her hand delicately yet firmly. I called her Ender for a reason. As much as I ached for the companionship, I never fired her. Every time you pull that trigger, every time you end someone’s life, a piece of you dies too. Every bullet fired ebbs away at your soul, until there’s nothing left but animated flesh.
I held her tightly as I inched my way to Rancini’s.
I decided I needed to make a house call. I stood outside the gates to Rancini’s house, I was on the outside, looking in. I despised Rancini and what he stood for. His beautiful life acquired through ugly means, his house built on the backs of broken men. Usually I stayed out of his way, and he out of mine. Though maybe he thought me nothing to get worried about at all. I figured that even if Rancini didn’t have the Espirit, he’d know where I could find it. And who I’d have to get it from. I wasn’t in the business of museum robbery. Figured something with that kind of reputation would go to someone’s head, just another trophy locked up and admired in someone’s cabinet. And then a new trophy is acquired, and the other one is forgotten. I’d seen it all before.
I vaulted over the wall, landing behind some bushes. The grass rustled beneath my feet, whispering silent warnings to those who would care to listen. The clouds shrouded my movement, denying all but the most persevering the faintest sliver of light. I had to make my way to the house silently, and lemme be the first to tell you that’s not an easy thing to do.
You need to start walking on your heel, then slowly roll your foot from the back to the front, on the ball of your feet Anyone who’s seen this being done or has done it before can tell you: You look like a damn fool doing it.
With regards to human companionship, I was pretty much as good as alone. A lifetime of solitude and preference for the bottle pretty much helped in that regard. As much as the loneliness hurt, I had my own companion by proxy. I called her Ender.
She was my trusty revolver. I removed her from her leather bed and held her hand delicately yet firmly. I called her Ender for a reason. As much as I ached for the companionship, I never fired her. Every time you pull that trigger, every time you end someone’s life, a piece of you dies too. Every bullet fired ebbs away at your soul, until there’s nothing left but animated flesh.
I held her tightly as I inched my way to Rancini’s.
Sunday, October 26, 2003
Author's note: decided to update the story every Monday. Don't bother checking daily for updates.
part 6
The person on the other line was Morgan Phelps, big kahuna of cops in Lost Haven. He used to be my partner when I was on the force, and he used to look up to me. Now it's my turn to look up to him, and all I get are nosebleeds whenever I try.
"Hey, Phelps."
"Theo. What'dya want?"
"Guy can't call to catch up wit' their old partner?"
"Get to da point, Theo. I'm busy."
"Right, right, fine. Need a favour from you. It's really urgent."
"I'm busy here. Hurry the hell up."
"Need to find out more about this dame who gave me a case today."
"What kinda case? Briefcase?"
"No, a job. Listen, you got anything on a Cassandra Bouchard?"
"Sounds classy. Like French or something."
"Yeah, I figured. When can I get this?"
"Soon as it's done, Theo. Bye."
The phone slammed down on the receiver, leaving in its wake a series of monotone. Outside, the rain had stopped. Down on the street, the people slowly resumed their routine, like ants from a hill. Never stopping to pause for breath or a refresher. Above, the sun shone, just like it did everyday. And in my office, as always, I was clueless. I pulled open the grime-streaked window for a breather and winced a little. Sunlight hurts the eyes of those not used to it. If nothing else, I needed a breath of fresh air. Down on the street, Rancini's boys were roughing up the cornershop owner, while the other ants continued on, following the path of the other ants before them.
You know how everything seems clearer after it rains? The rain washes away all the smog and the dust, and for a while it seems like a new day.
Rancini, the local crime magnate. He was a hard man, and that same policy oozed through in his boys. The family never did anything the soft way. Among other things, Alberto Rancini was a liar, a cheat, and a lousy husband. For all his influence, he never did realise his wife was sleeping with about twenty guys around town.
More importantly, though, he collected antiques.
Rancini was the key.
part 6
The person on the other line was Morgan Phelps, big kahuna of cops in Lost Haven. He used to be my partner when I was on the force, and he used to look up to me. Now it's my turn to look up to him, and all I get are nosebleeds whenever I try.
"Hey, Phelps."
"Theo. What'dya want?"
"Guy can't call to catch up wit' their old partner?"
"Get to da point, Theo. I'm busy."
"Right, right, fine. Need a favour from you. It's really urgent."
"I'm busy here. Hurry the hell up."
"Need to find out more about this dame who gave me a case today."
"What kinda case? Briefcase?"
"No, a job. Listen, you got anything on a Cassandra Bouchard?"
"Sounds classy. Like French or something."
"Yeah, I figured. When can I get this?"
"Soon as it's done, Theo. Bye."
The phone slammed down on the receiver, leaving in its wake a series of monotone. Outside, the rain had stopped. Down on the street, the people slowly resumed their routine, like ants from a hill. Never stopping to pause for breath or a refresher. Above, the sun shone, just like it did everyday. And in my office, as always, I was clueless. I pulled open the grime-streaked window for a breather and winced a little. Sunlight hurts the eyes of those not used to it. If nothing else, I needed a breath of fresh air. Down on the street, Rancini's boys were roughing up the cornershop owner, while the other ants continued on, following the path of the other ants before them.
You know how everything seems clearer after it rains? The rain washes away all the smog and the dust, and for a while it seems like a new day.
Rancini, the local crime magnate. He was a hard man, and that same policy oozed through in his boys. The family never did anything the soft way. Among other things, Alberto Rancini was a liar, a cheat, and a lousy husband. For all his influence, he never did realise his wife was sleeping with about twenty guys around town.
More importantly, though, he collected antiques.
Rancini was the key.
Monday, October 20, 2003
part 5
“You’re kidding, right?” The look on his face told me he wasn’t. Jimmy was a lot of things. Most of them would get him beaten up by less tolerant folks. But you could always tell when he was dead serious. Ah hell, I hate puns. His eyes and lips set in a grim stare.
“Theo, where’d you come across something like this? Normally this kinda thing is way over your head.”
”It’s part o’ the job. And hey, thanks for the vote of confidence. Really. I needed that. Now you gonna tell me about this thing or what?”
“Oh, oh, right. The Esprit de Renard used to be the property of Hunter Renard, the guy was some kinda high-profile thief or somesuch. Some kinda lucky charm I think. Then I don’t know how it goes but ‘parrently the amulet’s cursed, bad things been happenin’ to those who got hold of it. You ask me this Hunter fella don’t want nobody touchin’ his old lucky charm.”
Now, I wasn’t really one for this Mother Goose crap. Fairy tales were for kids and people who didn’t know they were kids. You ask me, most of this ghost, or curse hoodoo was made up by people who wanted their fifteen minutes of semi-obscurity. Say what you want, but to me real mysteries are why people can’t stay married, why no one cares about the everyman’s suffering. Tell me why that happens and I’ll probably die happy. Then again, probably not. But at least it answers questions.
I thanked Jimmy for his help. He responded by slamming the door in my face. Can’t fault the man for hospitality. Above, it started to rain. Raindrops splattered to the surface like dreams shattering when you wake up. It was bitingly cold. Elsewhere, a young couple ran for shelter as the rain came pelting down. A hobo cowered under his flimsy cardboard shelter as what was left of his protection crumbled around him. I turned up the collar of my coat and walked back in the rain.
Somehow the rain managed to mirror what I thought inside. I was being paid millions to recover somebody’s trinket. Not that it was very hard to find – you gotta know the right people first. But it was the reputation that bothered me. Jimmy’d told me about all the guys who’d gotten their hands on the Esprit de Renard. One died, his car swerved into a tree. Another fell out of an open window. Yet another drowned. The last one went insane. Some track record. Who was Bouchard to the Esprit and why did she want it?
It was still raining as I got back to the office. I shook the rainwater off my coat and tossed it on the chair.
I made a phone call.
“You’re kidding, right?” The look on his face told me he wasn’t. Jimmy was a lot of things. Most of them would get him beaten up by less tolerant folks. But you could always tell when he was dead serious. Ah hell, I hate puns. His eyes and lips set in a grim stare.
“Theo, where’d you come across something like this? Normally this kinda thing is way over your head.”
”It’s part o’ the job. And hey, thanks for the vote of confidence. Really. I needed that. Now you gonna tell me about this thing or what?”
“Oh, oh, right. The Esprit de Renard used to be the property of Hunter Renard, the guy was some kinda high-profile thief or somesuch. Some kinda lucky charm I think. Then I don’t know how it goes but ‘parrently the amulet’s cursed, bad things been happenin’ to those who got hold of it. You ask me this Hunter fella don’t want nobody touchin’ his old lucky charm.”
Now, I wasn’t really one for this Mother Goose crap. Fairy tales were for kids and people who didn’t know they were kids. You ask me, most of this ghost, or curse hoodoo was made up by people who wanted their fifteen minutes of semi-obscurity. Say what you want, but to me real mysteries are why people can’t stay married, why no one cares about the everyman’s suffering. Tell me why that happens and I’ll probably die happy. Then again, probably not. But at least it answers questions.
I thanked Jimmy for his help. He responded by slamming the door in my face. Can’t fault the man for hospitality. Above, it started to rain. Raindrops splattered to the surface like dreams shattering when you wake up. It was bitingly cold. Elsewhere, a young couple ran for shelter as the rain came pelting down. A hobo cowered under his flimsy cardboard shelter as what was left of his protection crumbled around him. I turned up the collar of my coat and walked back in the rain.
Somehow the rain managed to mirror what I thought inside. I was being paid millions to recover somebody’s trinket. Not that it was very hard to find – you gotta know the right people first. But it was the reputation that bothered me. Jimmy’d told me about all the guys who’d gotten their hands on the Esprit de Renard. One died, his car swerved into a tree. Another fell out of an open window. Yet another drowned. The last one went insane. Some track record. Who was Bouchard to the Esprit and why did she want it?
It was still raining as I got back to the office. I shook the rainwater off my coat and tossed it on the chair.
I made a phone call.
Sunday, October 12, 2003
part 4
The bell above the door tinkled as I trudged my way inside Jimmy Hannigan's shop. Figures the coin landed the way I was hoping it wouldn't. But that's me. Jimmy Hannigan was a friend of mine, or what passed as friends nowadays. Still, he was one of the only people in this town who I didn't feel instant animosity towards. Jimmy ran a business, though maybe not quite the business that most people'd be accustomed to.
He glanced up at me from above his newspaper.
"Get outta my shop."
"Come on, Jimmy. Can't a guy drop by to see a friend?"
"Some friend. What'd I tell you about coming back here after what you pulled with my wife?"
"I told ya, Jimmy, she came onto me! What's a guy gotta do?"
"Her? Come onta you? HAW!"
Jimmy didn't have the greatest tact in the world, but he had a heart of gold. At least, I like to think he did, it just made his personality a lot easier to stomach.
"C'mon Jim, I really need your help this time."
"You always 'really need' my help everytime, Theo. What's it this time? You need money? Booze? What?"
"I got lost things that need finding Jim, you're my man for these kinda things."
"Oh, you finally got a job, didja? What'choo gotta do? Find a lost puppy? Petshop's down the road, Theo!"
Jimmy burst out laughing, though I felt like making him burst in another kinda way. The kind that involved lead plugs and leaking bodies. But he was a friend, dammit. An important one. And I wasn't in the habit of plugging friends. Not even moronic ones. Regardless, I reached into my coat. Jimmy flinched a little. He was a good man, fought in the Great War. But thing about wars is it makes you jittery like a cat on cocaine. He'd had his fair share of being plugged once or twice, though not enough to kill him. I'm still convinced the lead did something to his brain, you don't go through something like that and survive with all your marbles.
I pulled out a stack of paper and tossed them onto the table. Jimmy visually relaxed, then took a long hard look at the papers as if sizing it up for prey.
"What's this?"
"With luck, a big fat paycheque."
He took up a stack of the papers and furrowed his brow as he concentrated. Finally, after what seemed like forever he glanced back up at me.
"You know what this is?"
"Was hoping you'd tell me."
"The Esprit de Renard, you fool. You know what it is?"
"Ah... nope."
"It's DEATH!"
To be continued
The bell above the door tinkled as I trudged my way inside Jimmy Hannigan's shop. Figures the coin landed the way I was hoping it wouldn't. But that's me. Jimmy Hannigan was a friend of mine, or what passed as friends nowadays. Still, he was one of the only people in this town who I didn't feel instant animosity towards. Jimmy ran a business, though maybe not quite the business that most people'd be accustomed to.
He glanced up at me from above his newspaper.
"Get outta my shop."
"Come on, Jimmy. Can't a guy drop by to see a friend?"
"Some friend. What'd I tell you about coming back here after what you pulled with my wife?"
"I told ya, Jimmy, she came onto me! What's a guy gotta do?"
"Her? Come onta you? HAW!"
Jimmy didn't have the greatest tact in the world, but he had a heart of gold. At least, I like to think he did, it just made his personality a lot easier to stomach.
"C'mon Jim, I really need your help this time."
"You always 'really need' my help everytime, Theo. What's it this time? You need money? Booze? What?"
"I got lost things that need finding Jim, you're my man for these kinda things."
"Oh, you finally got a job, didja? What'choo gotta do? Find a lost puppy? Petshop's down the road, Theo!"
Jimmy burst out laughing, though I felt like making him burst in another kinda way. The kind that involved lead plugs and leaking bodies. But he was a friend, dammit. An important one. And I wasn't in the habit of plugging friends. Not even moronic ones. Regardless, I reached into my coat. Jimmy flinched a little. He was a good man, fought in the Great War. But thing about wars is it makes you jittery like a cat on cocaine. He'd had his fair share of being plugged once or twice, though not enough to kill him. I'm still convinced the lead did something to his brain, you don't go through something like that and survive with all your marbles.
I pulled out a stack of paper and tossed them onto the table. Jimmy visually relaxed, then took a long hard look at the papers as if sizing it up for prey.
"What's this?"
"With luck, a big fat paycheque."
He took up a stack of the papers and furrowed his brow as he concentrated. Finally, after what seemed like forever he glanced back up at me.
"You know what this is?"
"Was hoping you'd tell me."
"The Esprit de Renard, you fool. You know what it is?"
"Ah... nope."
"It's DEATH!"
To be continued
Monday, October 06, 2003
part 3
I sat back in my chair in disbelief. The chair groaned, and inwardly so did I. To hell with the chair, I thought to myself. I could buy hundreds of goddamned chairs. I could live somewhere else with this kinda payout. Somewhere nice. And I didn’t even have to lift a finger, I coulda just taken the money and run off somewhere. But I was thinkin’.
Seems the dame had some expectations, for me to find the things she wanted. Now, I figured that if she had the cash to throw around like that, she had ways to make sure I played ball. Seemed less and less like she’d just come into the money to me. I could run away with the money. But something told me that if I did I wouldn’t live to spend it all. Didn’t help that I had something which most of this city didn’t have, an odd reversal of the norm. I had morals, I had standards. Kinda explained my current situation. But I’d rather die poor without guilt than rich and scummy. Which was why I was an idiot.
I looked over the broad’s name card. Cassandra Bouchard. Didn’t recognize the name. Could be an alias. I flipped the card over and over idly in my hand while my mind wandered. I’d need to grill my sources on this one. Normally I hated calling in favours but I figured since I got presidents behind me, I had more power than I usually did. I sighed, and pulled the stack of paper out from the envelope again.
I started to look over it again, just like I had the last four times. I stopped. Already knew what the gig was about, and all the pieces on the chessboard – why was it bothering me that I didn’t know who the players were? I couldn’t stand unanswered questions.
Who were ‘they’?
I stood up from my chair and shuffled over to the window. Streaked with grime and caked with dust, it’d seen its fair share of hell. I couldn’t bear to clean that window. Would’ve felt too much like painting this shitty city up in makeup and giving it high heels. I didn’t like living in Lost Haven and I didn’t make a secret of it. Which was why I was tempted to take up the job – 5 million would let me live comfortably in somewhere nice and classy. Like Manhattan.
Like a kid’s mother, though, I wasn’t comfortable with things that I didn’t know where they came from. Call me paranoid. But I had a habit of looking in the mouths of gift horses. I sighed, again. Did it really have to come down to this? I made a choice the only way I knew how.
I flipped a coin.
To be continued
I sat back in my chair in disbelief. The chair groaned, and inwardly so did I. To hell with the chair, I thought to myself. I could buy hundreds of goddamned chairs. I could live somewhere else with this kinda payout. Somewhere nice. And I didn’t even have to lift a finger, I coulda just taken the money and run off somewhere. But I was thinkin’.
Seems the dame had some expectations, for me to find the things she wanted. Now, I figured that if she had the cash to throw around like that, she had ways to make sure I played ball. Seemed less and less like she’d just come into the money to me. I could run away with the money. But something told me that if I did I wouldn’t live to spend it all. Didn’t help that I had something which most of this city didn’t have, an odd reversal of the norm. I had morals, I had standards. Kinda explained my current situation. But I’d rather die poor without guilt than rich and scummy. Which was why I was an idiot.
I looked over the broad’s name card. Cassandra Bouchard. Didn’t recognize the name. Could be an alias. I flipped the card over and over idly in my hand while my mind wandered. I’d need to grill my sources on this one. Normally I hated calling in favours but I figured since I got presidents behind me, I had more power than I usually did. I sighed, and pulled the stack of paper out from the envelope again.
I started to look over it again, just like I had the last four times. I stopped. Already knew what the gig was about, and all the pieces on the chessboard – why was it bothering me that I didn’t know who the players were? I couldn’t stand unanswered questions.
Who were ‘they’?
I stood up from my chair and shuffled over to the window. Streaked with grime and caked with dust, it’d seen its fair share of hell. I couldn’t bear to clean that window. Would’ve felt too much like painting this shitty city up in makeup and giving it high heels. I didn’t like living in Lost Haven and I didn’t make a secret of it. Which was why I was tempted to take up the job – 5 million would let me live comfortably in somewhere nice and classy. Like Manhattan.
Like a kid’s mother, though, I wasn’t comfortable with things that I didn’t know where they came from. Call me paranoid. But I had a habit of looking in the mouths of gift horses. I sighed, again. Did it really have to come down to this? I made a choice the only way I knew how.
I flipped a coin.
To be continued
Friday, October 03, 2003
part 2
In walked trouble, brunette as usual. She walked – or rather, glided into the room. The kind of broad that made you sit up and then some, but that’s not saying much, especially for me. Wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Despite all that she was the innocent, rich kind, the type whose shit smells like roses. Black dress. Funeral, or one of those classy broads. Red leather purse. Gaudy enough to tell me that she just came into money. No classy dame would wanna be seen with that thing, I knew. Suitcase… Holiday? I could tell this would be a good day.
“I was in the area and I saw your sign. Are you a detective?”
“You don’t look the type to just drop by, missy. And the door coulda told you just fine.”
“Haha! They said you were a witty one.”
”Who’re they?”
She ignored my question and went straight for the crux of the matter – no one ever had a sense of humour anymore. Makes me wonder why I bother.
“I need you to find something for me. I’m told you’re good at that sort of thing?”
“Yeah? That the same ‘they’ you were talking about?” Before she got the chance to offer the witty rebuttal they all seemed to like giving, I continued.
“Look. I’m a busy man here… I ain’t got time ta look for whatever it is you lost. Call lost and found or something, yeah?”
“Busy enough to doze off in your chair? Look, Mr. Garrett, I’m very willing to make this worth your while.”
Maybe the realisation that she’d caught me napping stung me. Maybe it was the ‘worth your while’ comment. Or something else. All I knew was that she was right, I had nothing better to do, so it was down to playing findsman. I HATE playing findsman. But then again, I also hated eating leftover Chinese. Left a bad taste in my mouth. Wasn’t the only thing.
“How much?”
“How fast can you finish the job?”
“Depends on my motivation.”
The suitcase sprang open, and I decided maybe findsman wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“I am prepared to offer you 5 million dollars, Mr. Garrett. Half now, half upon completion. The details of the job are included inside the case. Have a good day, Mr. Garrett, and I hope to hear from you soon.”
Just like that, the chick was gone. Reminds me of my last relationship. Make that only relationship. Details.
Details. I dug through the suitcase and found a manila folder tucked underneath a wad of bills. An array of photos and text greeted me as I opened it up, looked pretty open and shut to me. So why get me to do the dirty work? Looked pretty foolproof, but then again fools had a rep for defying expectations. Then I got to the gist of it.
To be continued
In walked trouble, brunette as usual. She walked – or rather, glided into the room. The kind of broad that made you sit up and then some, but that’s not saying much, especially for me. Wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Despite all that she was the innocent, rich kind, the type whose shit smells like roses. Black dress. Funeral, or one of those classy broads. Red leather purse. Gaudy enough to tell me that she just came into money. No classy dame would wanna be seen with that thing, I knew. Suitcase… Holiday? I could tell this would be a good day.
“I was in the area and I saw your sign. Are you a detective?”
“You don’t look the type to just drop by, missy. And the door coulda told you just fine.”
“Haha! They said you were a witty one.”
”Who’re they?”
She ignored my question and went straight for the crux of the matter – no one ever had a sense of humour anymore. Makes me wonder why I bother.
“I need you to find something for me. I’m told you’re good at that sort of thing?”
“Yeah? That the same ‘they’ you were talking about?” Before she got the chance to offer the witty rebuttal they all seemed to like giving, I continued.
“Look. I’m a busy man here… I ain’t got time ta look for whatever it is you lost. Call lost and found or something, yeah?”
“Busy enough to doze off in your chair? Look, Mr. Garrett, I’m very willing to make this worth your while.”
Maybe the realisation that she’d caught me napping stung me. Maybe it was the ‘worth your while’ comment. Or something else. All I knew was that she was right, I had nothing better to do, so it was down to playing findsman. I HATE playing findsman. But then again, I also hated eating leftover Chinese. Left a bad taste in my mouth. Wasn’t the only thing.
“How much?”
“How fast can you finish the job?”
“Depends on my motivation.”
The suitcase sprang open, and I decided maybe findsman wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“I am prepared to offer you 5 million dollars, Mr. Garrett. Half now, half upon completion. The details of the job are included inside the case. Have a good day, Mr. Garrett, and I hope to hear from you soon.”
Just like that, the chick was gone. Reminds me of my last relationship. Make that only relationship. Details.
Details. I dug through the suitcase and found a manila folder tucked underneath a wad of bills. An array of photos and text greeted me as I opened it up, looked pretty open and shut to me. So why get me to do the dirty work? Looked pretty foolproof, but then again fools had a rep for defying expectations. Then I got to the gist of it.
To be continued
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
part 1
The sun rose with practiced bravado.
That made two of us. I staggered off the couch and towards the liquor cabinet for some breakfast. My head throbbed like I'd gone ten rounds with Tyson, or maybe ten shots of cheap tequila. Looking over at the clock I realised that I'd been asleep the whole of yesterday. Not like I'd missed anything important though, life had a way of going on without me. I downed the most important meal of the day, grimacing at the rancid, cheap, vodka burning its way down my gullet. I looked back at myself, empty, distorted, and fragile. Mostly empty, though. Story of my life.
I tossed the bottle in the trash and sat down in my chair. The ceiling fan spun lazily around, doing nothing more than blowing hot air back down at me. In case I hadn't been blowing my trumpet enough, my name was Theo, Theo Garrett, private eye. That is, I would be one if I could get a case. Right now the only case I was interested in was one filled with my friend, JD.
The door rang, springing a spark of false hope that the sign on the door wouldn't be a lie after all.
To be Continued
The sun rose with practiced bravado.
That made two of us. I staggered off the couch and towards the liquor cabinet for some breakfast. My head throbbed like I'd gone ten rounds with Tyson, or maybe ten shots of cheap tequila. Looking over at the clock I realised that I'd been asleep the whole of yesterday. Not like I'd missed anything important though, life had a way of going on without me. I downed the most important meal of the day, grimacing at the rancid, cheap, vodka burning its way down my gullet. I looked back at myself, empty, distorted, and fragile. Mostly empty, though. Story of my life.
I tossed the bottle in the trash and sat down in my chair. The ceiling fan spun lazily around, doing nothing more than blowing hot air back down at me. In case I hadn't been blowing my trumpet enough, my name was Theo, Theo Garrett, private eye. That is, I would be one if I could get a case. Right now the only case I was interested in was one filled with my friend, JD.
The door rang, springing a spark of false hope that the sign on the door wouldn't be a lie after all.
To be Continued
