Jake had spent the whole night reading “Basic mechanics and Metal Structuring” and could not remember a thing. Too many things were running through his head; the shop, this “project”, his brother and sister, Jo. It really was too much to lay on one man, all at the same time.
Forgoing a shower and a shave, he brushed his teeth, washed his face and left the house at dawn. He drove straight to the store, still having not figured out what excuse he’d have to hand the entire store over to Chip, a teenager, for six whole weeks – maybe more. He had to trust him, and he would check the stocks and ledger books at night.
He still needed coffee, and he knew the only place he could get some good and satisfying coffee would be at the Coffee Grounds. Parking the truck and literally making a run across the small street, he wondered if Jo had gotten her daily dose yet – maybe he could buy her coffee. He liked her, no doubt about it, even if she was crazy.
He walked in and noticed her crazy mane of hair instantly, only this time she had attempted to tame it into a bun; which looked a lot like bird’s nest – a big bird’s nest, with escaped tendrils around her neck. It was sexy. Scoffing at it, he walked past her to the counter and ordered his usual drink. When he turned around, he saw that today she was wearing the most ridiculous outfit ever. A huge men’s shirt, folded at the sleeves over a pair of loose men’s jeans, also folded. Huge, chunky wedge heels supported her feet, with neon green nail-polish. Her signature over-sized bangles rested on her wrists, and she had neon-green eye shadow.
Seized by the worry that she was actually wearing some guy’s clothes, “Do you ever dress like a normal, sane human being?”
“What? Oh, good morning, handsome! I just felt like wearing something super comfy today. That’s all. Plus, I look cute, I know it!” she chirped. Was she ever in a bad mood? The few customers in the cafe were already stunned to see that they actually knew each other and spoke to each other.
“Sing to me, Jake-meister! ‘My eyes adored you, though I never laid a hand on you, my eyes adored you’,” she sang, off-key - as expected. She made the people in the shop smile, she made him smile. Trying for a stern look and failing, he moved a chair directly opposite her and sat at her table.
“I dare you to do that thing you do, with me watching you. You want to play, let’s play, crazy lady,” Jake said, quietly. So quietly he was sure no one else in the shop heard him.
“What are you talking about? You’re as nuts as I am. I have no idea about what you’re talking about,” she replied, looking every bit as confused as he knew she was. He was going to indulge himself this time. He had the perfect seat – front and centre. He was going to watch her do it, and he was going to make her aware of herself, perhaps even shame her, just for the fun of it. If only he could make her as nervous around him as he was around her.
Tim, another high-school kid who worked with Chip, brought her the staple latte. Extra foam this time. It was perfect. She thanked Tim, beamed at him and he thought he might go mad waiting for her to get to it. The stir-lick-lick made his day - everyday.
She sighed and picked up the spoon. He was staring, he knew he should not stare, but watching her from the corner of his eyes was self-abuse, so he went ahead and indulged himself, just this one time. She dipped the spoon in, mumbled something about the foam and stirred. She lifted it, and licked the first side and accidentally looked his way.
The look on his face was enough. He seared her with a look so lustful she would be stunned and fall into a self-conscious state. He knew it. The second lick was tentative, even shy. He knew he had accomplished his mission. She smiled, and stifled a laugh before plunging the spoon back in, looking him straight in the eye, daring him to watch. She did the whole thing all over again, and there was no innocent look in her eyes. Now that she had figured it all out, she was going to exact vengeance.
Fixated, he stopped breathing. How could spoon licking be seductive? He was still unable to move, she smiled and laughed heartily, picked up her mug and gulped the entire latte down. She placed her mug down and stood.
“Let’s go, big boy. You and me, my place,” she said flirtatiously. Still stunned and awed, he moved to stand like a zombie. All eyes in the cafe were fixed, conversations came to halt, Tim was frozen with a tray in his hand, looking almost statuesque.
She moved, in an instant, grabbed him by the shirt collar, a “Whoa” escaped from the small crowd in the cafe and whispered in his ear, almost inaudibly, “We have work to do. Snap out of it!”
“Huh? Oh!” Jake mumbled, extremely embarrassed and angry with himself for losing the battle – which he had initiated. They both moved towards the shop door and Tim was literally cheering Jake on.
“We’ll take my car, if you don’t mind,” Jake said, still too embarrassed to look her in the eye.
“Fuck no! We won’t. We’re taking my baby. You can leave your manly-man truck right here, thank you,” she looked at him, flexing her muscles. She did look adorable in men’s clothes.
“Whatever, but drive slowly, and stop cussing. Stop being a potty-mouth,” Jake griped.
“Yessir! By the way, you look tired. Studying much?” she laughed.
“Just get in the car and drive, will ya?” he replied, still sulking. He knew he was sulking, but really could not help himself.
They drove back to the Coroner’s office, with her mind-scrambling techno music blasting. They did not even attempt to make conversation. He stole a glance at her and saw she was smiling, her delicate fingers tapping on the steering wheel. He knew the whole debacle at the coffee shop was funny to her, and was secretly happy that he had made her laugh – though anything would make her laugh.
As she deftly parked the oversized vehicle and literally bounced out, he saw the metal shutters rising again, now knowing what was inside, he was not all that impressed. As they walked in, she stopped at the security panel and checked the logs. No intruders so far, but now he knew that she had known that he followed her the first time - nothing he could do about that.
She went into the kitchen and called for Hootch, while Jake went straight to the work shop to look around. He liked it, there was every tool imaginable, and he could not recall her ever coming into his shop to buy them. There were pigeon holes full of nuts and bolts, screws, nails, wall plugs and it was literally a “manly” man’s dream come true. On the workshop table, which was big enough to seat 6 people for dinner, there was a rough sketch of the “weapons delivery whatever”, obviously drawn by Jo. He saw her initials at the bottom of it, and knew she had conjured it up last night after he and James left.
Studying the drawing, he did not hear her come to stand at the door. He did not notice her watching him. He was very deep in thought, figuring out how he would draw a three dimensional schematic, and he would need to know what kind of metal he would be using. He could not be possibly be working with lead – he knew that would not be the ideal metal to deliver a nuclear weapon which probably had its own casing.
“You’ll be using an alloy, mostly. A molybdenum alloy, the kind they use in aircrafts. It’s got good heat and corrosion resistance, and weld-ability, if that’s even a word. I can’t be sure. Heeee. You like my drawing? You’re going to need to build based on that, and you’re own schematics, of course,” she explained.
“Yea, because I know how to deal with these things. I still think you’ve got the wrong guy for the job, but I’m willing to give it a try. When do the parts get in? I’m going to have to learn and practise a little bit.”
“Falloon’s bringing in the stuff, in a big truck he claims looks ‘inconspicuous’. People’ll think it’s his furniture. Hah. Expect to start building in ten days or so. Before that, you’re going to have to come up with the proper schematics and dimensions, with a clay model preferably. Base your drawings on a low pay-load, stealth aircraft. Like the B-2 Spirit Stealth Bomber or the wonderful Indian-Russian Sukhoi Pak Fa. The Russians know their shit, and I’d trust their Cold War technology over any other country’s paltry efforts at being a super power. Gotta love ‘em Russkies, their shit is used all over the world. As for the mount, Fallon and I will come up with a schematic. I’d explain what everything means, but it would take the fun out of things, don’t you think?”
As he left the house with her sketch in hand, trying to remember everything he had just heard, he called himself ten kinds of fool for getting himself into something he knew nothing about. His first day on the job and he was lost.
Missed a chapter or two? Read them here:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
I really do need help publicising this website, so tell your friends to start reading! Once I get twenty committed readers, I can go forward with possible talks for advertising, and once I've got a proper following, I can go into publishing. I need all the help I can get! If you like what you've been reading so far (or even hate it, insults welcome), leave me a comment. Technical advice on writing would really help me, and before I go on, I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you. Shout out on your Twitter, Facebook and MySpace too! Help me out, tell a friend today. Love to all.
Sunday 20 June 2010
Friday 18 June 2010
Langdon
Hey folks, I'm sorry. Chapter 7 is only half-way done. I don't know why, I wrote this piece instead (below). Poor language, but I feel it should be posted. Enjoy... or not. I'll have Chapter 7 up soon. Do keep reading (don't leave me, I need you) Comments welcome!
It was dawn; he didn’t have to open his eyes to know it. Smelling the dew in the air was enough. He was happy, and hungry. Perhaps he’d go down to the cafe’ that served those funny looking buns. It was a block away, and he knew he could make a run for it. The streets were mostly empty this early anyway.
He rose and stretched completely, one would even say that he looked comical when he wiggled his big, buff body. Living on the streets had done this to him. He nudged his “box-mate”, Buddy, to get up. In the still of the morning, the two of them went along their way to the neighbourhood cafe’.
He was happy to live his life this way, with not a care in the world. Sure, he went hungry most of the time, he knew he smelled funny and people occasionally gave him dirty looks, the rare person gave him food and leftovers. The worst part of his life was over. He had gotten over getting lost. He had a family before, he had people who loved him, cherished him, and spent their days with him. Not anymore.
As the two brave ones went down the road, it was time to cross. Buddy went first, since he knew the way better. He somehow couldn’t decide when to cross, stunned by the lost feeling that had crept up, he stood at the side of the road as Buddy watched him from the other side.
He goaded himself to do it. Afterall, he had done it dozens of times. He was going to take the plunge. It was quite a short distance to dash and he felt it was time. He moved off the gravel and onto the tar, and began his journey. Not a sound in the distance – he was sure.
As he reached the middle, he tempted fate and decided to stop. He looked at Buddy, smiled at him. Buddy really was his best friend. They kept each other company, went on crazy adventures together, chased girls together, they really were the best of friends.
Still staring at Buddy, he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand. In an instant, he saw it. A big, black truck heading his way – fast. Unable to move, too stunned to react, his mind reeled as the front bars of the truck crashed into his body. Screeching tyres, Buddy shouting for help - he felt no pain.
As life rushed out of him, he wondered if his family missed him. He yelped, cried and saw the tail lights of the truck move into the distance as he lay his head down, to sleep, one last time. The death of Langdon, the Border collie who got lost two months before went unnoticed. His owner, Katy, cries every night, wishing he would come home.
“Love is watching someone die” – Death cab for cutie.
I cried while writing. Have a good cry today, it's good for you.
For Langdon and anyone who has lost someone.
***
Inspired by the Strays Don't Sleep, here's LangdonIt was dawn; he didn’t have to open his eyes to know it. Smelling the dew in the air was enough. He was happy, and hungry. Perhaps he’d go down to the cafe’ that served those funny looking buns. It was a block away, and he knew he could make a run for it. The streets were mostly empty this early anyway.
He rose and stretched completely, one would even say that he looked comical when he wiggled his big, buff body. Living on the streets had done this to him. He nudged his “box-mate”, Buddy, to get up. In the still of the morning, the two of them went along their way to the neighbourhood cafe’.
He was happy to live his life this way, with not a care in the world. Sure, he went hungry most of the time, he knew he smelled funny and people occasionally gave him dirty looks, the rare person gave him food and leftovers. The worst part of his life was over. He had gotten over getting lost. He had a family before, he had people who loved him, cherished him, and spent their days with him. Not anymore.
As the two brave ones went down the road, it was time to cross. Buddy went first, since he knew the way better. He somehow couldn’t decide when to cross, stunned by the lost feeling that had crept up, he stood at the side of the road as Buddy watched him from the other side.
He goaded himself to do it. Afterall, he had done it dozens of times. He was going to take the plunge. It was quite a short distance to dash and he felt it was time. He moved off the gravel and onto the tar, and began his journey. Not a sound in the distance – he was sure.
As he reached the middle, he tempted fate and decided to stop. He looked at Buddy, smiled at him. Buddy really was his best friend. They kept each other company, went on crazy adventures together, chased girls together, they really were the best of friends.
Still staring at Buddy, he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand. In an instant, he saw it. A big, black truck heading his way – fast. Unable to move, too stunned to react, his mind reeled as the front bars of the truck crashed into his body. Screeching tyres, Buddy shouting for help - he felt no pain.
As life rushed out of him, he wondered if his family missed him. He yelped, cried and saw the tail lights of the truck move into the distance as he lay his head down, to sleep, one last time. The death of Langdon, the Border collie who got lost two months before went unnoticed. His owner, Katy, cries every night, wishing he would come home.
“Love is watching someone die” – Death cab for cutie.
I cried while writing. Have a good cry today, it's good for you.
For Langdon and anyone who has lost someone.
As I go forth into the darkness,
Weakened legs, shattered strength,
Crossing to the other side,
The cheering angels now meek,
Freezing water and burning larva,
I brave forward, knowing it is time,
Forgive me my sins, wipe away blemishes,
Love me not for my triumphs,
Love me not for my feats,
Love me not for good deeds done,
Love me for I have loved you.
***Listen to Bird York's "In the deep" for special effects.
Wednesday 16 June 2010
Hey folks, Chapter 7 will be out tomorrow (17/06/2010) and comments will be allowed! Feel free to tell me what you think so far, especially as far as technical and grammatical mistakes go. I hope you've all liked it so far. Keep reading, it can only get better, methinks! Chapter 7 sees the return of the stir-lick-lick *winks*
Missed a chapter or two? Read them here! Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Missed a chapter or two? Read them here! Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Tuesday 15 June 2010
We're Going to Build It!
Missed a chapter or two? Read them here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
*****Sorry for the delay. The net was down*****
He stared at her blankly, momentarily dazed by her outrageous statement and the swell of her very distracting chest in a neon yellow tank-top. “I-I-I-I don’t build things, dammit.”
“You don’t, we know. Well, brother, you have to. You’re already here, in this room – in this lab, you’ve seen what’s inside, and we’ve already told the big guys that you’re going to build it,” James piped in.
“It’s not that hard, really. You have the skills; you just don’t know it yet. Like a hamster that doesn’t know how to mate, you’ll catch on pretty fast and in no time you’ll have a sea of hamster-children. It’s the animal instinct in you,” said Crazy Jo, looking every bit as crazy as he thought she was. She was also very beautiful when she had that crazy look, he realised.
“What kind of dumb ass analogy is that? Are you sure you’re stable? Give him a minute to absorb this. He hasn’t got a clue,” snapped James. Turning to Jake, “Have you heard of nuclear weapons delivery? We’re going to use existing NORAD technology, fine tune an air to land weapon, mountable to any flying aircraft large enough to hold it and then we’re going to sell it! Buyers will be able to place any form of nuclear weapon, be it a fission or fusion bomb, into it with minimal knowledge and tools”
“The what-what? No. Obviously, I haven’t heard of a nuclear weapons delivery thingy-bop. You want me to build a weapon? Are you out of your minds? And who the hell is Nora?”
“It’s easy, handsome. It’s NORAD - North American Aerospace Defence Command. You’re going to build it, with me as your particle physicist and weapons expert, Jamesie here will build the mother boards and construct necessary software programmes needed. I’ve already ordered the necessary parts – which don’t you worry are totally benign when ordered separately, so no one will have a clue. Even better news! We won’t actually be working with anything ‘nuclear’! Isn’t that a comfort? Well, not really as far as I’m concerned, I do love playing with things that go ‘boom’. The tough bit is, because the parts we’ve ordered are totally useless and un-suspicious, if that’s even a word, although I believe I’m pretty good at language...”
“Focus, Jo! Weaponize it? Are you sure you guys aren’t terrorists?” Jake rasped.
“We’re sure, Jake. You need to trust us. We’re going to sell it. You’ve got 6 weeks to get it done and then we, and I do mean the whole team, have to ship out. We need to set up a comms centre too,” James said. Daring a glance at Jo, “We wouldn’t have been in such a jam if Jo here hadn’t taken so long to bring you into the loop.”
“Hootchie-boy! There you are! Ya hungry? I am too; these awful men are trying to make me feel bad for being slow. I couldn’t help it. I just love Somerset. Sigh. Come here you little beast,” Jo said, paying no attention to James.
Hootch was definitely a beast. He was huge, and shockingly handsome for a dog. He was a mixed breed, so Jake could not tell what kind of dog he was. Short, golden brown fur, with a cropped tail, long legs and a slightly short snout. Right now, Hootch was licking his knee. Trying to give the dog a pet with his bound hands, Jake started to scold the two crazies again.
“First of all, I might be able to figure out how to build one of those things, but I’m going to need schematics. I also want to know what it’s going to be used for. Who are you planning on selling it to?” Jake asked, more confused now than he was before the whole “Nora” statement.
“Jake, Jake, Jake. Sigh. You’re not going to have your cake and strawberry milkshake. We’ll give you a rough sketch. That’s the best you’re going to get. As for how the ‘sell’ goes down, the big guys will set it up. You’re a back ground guy so you won’t be held liable for anything and you’ll be compensated, generously I might add. Although, you’re going to have to swear to secrecy. It’s all a big secret, kind of like what colour James’ underpants are, or if he even wears any.”
“Fucking crazy woman. I’ll show you my underpants if you show me yours! And by the way, it’s ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it too’, num-nuts,” James said, laughing.
“Improvise, Jamesie, improvise. You’ll never learn. So now that we’ve explained everything, let’s rock and roll boys, I’m gettin’ hungry! Hootchie, what do you feel like?” Jo asked the dog. Jake knew she talked to her dog and even discussed dinner with him, so it was no surprise. What was a surprise, though, was the fact that she was supposedly brilliant. James pulled out a pair of keys and uncuffed Jake.
As Jake eased the ache on his wrists by stretching them, Hootch followed Jo. Jake rose and followed her too, enraptured by the swaying of her hips. As he walked through the corridor, he saw the former Coroner’s lab. It had been turned into some kind of workshop, the walls lined with tools and other things needed, such as a blow torch, a heavy metal cooling pot. In a small corner of the room was an area that had the “nuclear” markings, shut off by some kind of glass that he was sure wouldn’t protect him from anything, though he may have seen a door behind it.
Continuing down the corridor, the three of them ended up in the kitchen. Jo picked up the phone and a bunch of papers. Laying them out on the dining table, “So, what should we have? I was thinking tandoori, because some of us like it spicy!” Was she waggling her eyebrows? Could she get any prettier?
“I’m good with Indian. You?” James asked.
“Yeah. Sounds good. Get me some of those naans will you?” Jake said, pleased to hear that dinner was going to be served fast.
“A man after my heart! I’m so happy you’re an adventurous boy, Jake-meister. Okay, so I’m just going to go nuts,” she chirped.
“As if she weren’t nuts already,” James groused.
Jake took a moment to study her kitchen. It was one of those kitchens one would see in cartoons. Cherry-red cabinets, green, granite counter tops, a blue fridge – or at least he figured it was the fridge, an orange, plastic table with mismatched wooden seats and a sink that was a foot and a half deep. She had definitely left her mark, and he was willing to bet her bedroom was anything but boring. Reprimanding himself for thinking about her bedroom – or her at all, he stared at his scuffed brown boots, making a mental note to buy himself a new pair.
As Jo dialled the number to the local Indian restaurant, James pulled out a file from one of the kitchen cabinets and handed it to Jake. He then turned to open the fridge door, which was full of boxes of yoghurt, which earned Jo a questioning look from James.
“What? I love CFBs! Screw you, I let those little buggers live in my gut! Yoghurt is good for you,” she mumbled with one hand covering the receiver.
“CFBs?” James was beginning to hate asking about abbreviations. He had a feeling everything and anything said would be an abbreviation.
“Colony-forming bacteria, Jake. Look, I know this is all very hard to wrap your head around, but I’m going to need you to read the entire file tonight, sign and initial every page and then come back tomorrow to start working on this thing,” James said, with a sigh. “The hard part is that you’re going to have to learn a lot – and you’re going to have to learn it fast. I’ll have Jo pass you some books on heavy metals, building with metals and basic weapon designs. It won’t be big, but it’s going to be noisy, which is why we chose the coroner’s office.”
“This isn’t meant to be done by some lay-person. It has to be done by a pro, and maybe even a few pros! What made you think I could do this? There is no way I could do this on my own,” Jake replied.
“You’re not alone, Jake-meister. You have Hootch, James, me, the billion or so CFBs in your gut – which is why men make extremely smelly poots, by the way. And then there’s Fallon. That turd is coming in next week. He’s the electrical guy who’ll connect Jamesie’s computer crap to our wanda-weapon-base!” Jo screeched. “You’re not alone, you’re anything but,” Jo said gently as she placed the receiver down and began to search through drawers to find loose change for dinner.
“What about Jordi and Chris? How long do you think you can keep this from them? And what about the shop? You can’t just expect me to abandon it for six weeks! I really don’t think I can do this, guys,” Jake said as Hootch jumped up and sat on a seat in preparation for dinner.
Ignoring Jake’s last statement, “Atta boy Hootch! Dinner will be here in a jiffy!” Jo said as she turned to pull our cutlery from a kitchen drawer, which was also cherry pink.
“We chose you because we couldn’t touch anyone from the government research facilities. You’re the only one we can trust, and you’re the only who has the potential to do this, even without the proper training and education. We need you, Jake. And to an extent, you need this to pull you out of that rut you call ‘living’,” James said, trying to comfort Jake.
“Yeaa, it’s going to be you, me, Jamesie, Hootch and Fallon. We’re going to build this ‘thang. Go smart guys, go Hootchie, go Jakey, goooo Supa Nerds!” Jo started cheering as she did some kind of strange jig, or victory dance - maybe she was having a seizure. Jake could not be sure.
*****Sorry for the delay. The net was down*****
He stared at her blankly, momentarily dazed by her outrageous statement and the swell of her very distracting chest in a neon yellow tank-top. “I-I-I-I don’t build things, dammit.”
“You don’t, we know. Well, brother, you have to. You’re already here, in this room – in this lab, you’ve seen what’s inside, and we’ve already told the big guys that you’re going to build it,” James piped in.
“It’s not that hard, really. You have the skills; you just don’t know it yet. Like a hamster that doesn’t know how to mate, you’ll catch on pretty fast and in no time you’ll have a sea of hamster-children. It’s the animal instinct in you,” said Crazy Jo, looking every bit as crazy as he thought she was. She was also very beautiful when she had that crazy look, he realised.
“What kind of dumb ass analogy is that? Are you sure you’re stable? Give him a minute to absorb this. He hasn’t got a clue,” snapped James. Turning to Jake, “Have you heard of nuclear weapons delivery? We’re going to use existing NORAD technology, fine tune an air to land weapon, mountable to any flying aircraft large enough to hold it and then we’re going to sell it! Buyers will be able to place any form of nuclear weapon, be it a fission or fusion bomb, into it with minimal knowledge and tools”
“The what-what? No. Obviously, I haven’t heard of a nuclear weapons delivery thingy-bop. You want me to build a weapon? Are you out of your minds? And who the hell is Nora?”
“It’s easy, handsome. It’s NORAD - North American Aerospace Defence Command. You’re going to build it, with me as your particle physicist and weapons expert, Jamesie here will build the mother boards and construct necessary software programmes needed. I’ve already ordered the necessary parts – which don’t you worry are totally benign when ordered separately, so no one will have a clue. Even better news! We won’t actually be working with anything ‘nuclear’! Isn’t that a comfort? Well, not really as far as I’m concerned, I do love playing with things that go ‘boom’. The tough bit is, because the parts we’ve ordered are totally useless and un-suspicious, if that’s even a word, although I believe I’m pretty good at language...”
“Focus, Jo! Weaponize it? Are you sure you guys aren’t terrorists?” Jake rasped.
“We’re sure, Jake. You need to trust us. We’re going to sell it. You’ve got 6 weeks to get it done and then we, and I do mean the whole team, have to ship out. We need to set up a comms centre too,” James said. Daring a glance at Jo, “We wouldn’t have been in such a jam if Jo here hadn’t taken so long to bring you into the loop.”
“Hootchie-boy! There you are! Ya hungry? I am too; these awful men are trying to make me feel bad for being slow. I couldn’t help it. I just love Somerset. Sigh. Come here you little beast,” Jo said, paying no attention to James.
Hootch was definitely a beast. He was huge, and shockingly handsome for a dog. He was a mixed breed, so Jake could not tell what kind of dog he was. Short, golden brown fur, with a cropped tail, long legs and a slightly short snout. Right now, Hootch was licking his knee. Trying to give the dog a pet with his bound hands, Jake started to scold the two crazies again.
“First of all, I might be able to figure out how to build one of those things, but I’m going to need schematics. I also want to know what it’s going to be used for. Who are you planning on selling it to?” Jake asked, more confused now than he was before the whole “Nora” statement.
“Jake, Jake, Jake. Sigh. You’re not going to have your cake and strawberry milkshake. We’ll give you a rough sketch. That’s the best you’re going to get. As for how the ‘sell’ goes down, the big guys will set it up. You’re a back ground guy so you won’t be held liable for anything and you’ll be compensated, generously I might add. Although, you’re going to have to swear to secrecy. It’s all a big secret, kind of like what colour James’ underpants are, or if he even wears any.”
“Fucking crazy woman. I’ll show you my underpants if you show me yours! And by the way, it’s ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it too’, num-nuts,” James said, laughing.
“Improvise, Jamesie, improvise. You’ll never learn. So now that we’ve explained everything, let’s rock and roll boys, I’m gettin’ hungry! Hootchie, what do you feel like?” Jo asked the dog. Jake knew she talked to her dog and even discussed dinner with him, so it was no surprise. What was a surprise, though, was the fact that she was supposedly brilliant. James pulled out a pair of keys and uncuffed Jake.
As Jake eased the ache on his wrists by stretching them, Hootch followed Jo. Jake rose and followed her too, enraptured by the swaying of her hips. As he walked through the corridor, he saw the former Coroner’s lab. It had been turned into some kind of workshop, the walls lined with tools and other things needed, such as a blow torch, a heavy metal cooling pot. In a small corner of the room was an area that had the “nuclear” markings, shut off by some kind of glass that he was sure wouldn’t protect him from anything, though he may have seen a door behind it.
Continuing down the corridor, the three of them ended up in the kitchen. Jo picked up the phone and a bunch of papers. Laying them out on the dining table, “So, what should we have? I was thinking tandoori, because some of us like it spicy!” Was she waggling her eyebrows? Could she get any prettier?
“I’m good with Indian. You?” James asked.
“Yeah. Sounds good. Get me some of those naans will you?” Jake said, pleased to hear that dinner was going to be served fast.
“A man after my heart! I’m so happy you’re an adventurous boy, Jake-meister. Okay, so I’m just going to go nuts,” she chirped.
“As if she weren’t nuts already,” James groused.
Jake took a moment to study her kitchen. It was one of those kitchens one would see in cartoons. Cherry-red cabinets, green, granite counter tops, a blue fridge – or at least he figured it was the fridge, an orange, plastic table with mismatched wooden seats and a sink that was a foot and a half deep. She had definitely left her mark, and he was willing to bet her bedroom was anything but boring. Reprimanding himself for thinking about her bedroom – or her at all, he stared at his scuffed brown boots, making a mental note to buy himself a new pair.
As Jo dialled the number to the local Indian restaurant, James pulled out a file from one of the kitchen cabinets and handed it to Jake. He then turned to open the fridge door, which was full of boxes of yoghurt, which earned Jo a questioning look from James.
“What? I love CFBs! Screw you, I let those little buggers live in my gut! Yoghurt is good for you,” she mumbled with one hand covering the receiver.
“CFBs?” James was beginning to hate asking about abbreviations. He had a feeling everything and anything said would be an abbreviation.
“Colony-forming bacteria, Jake. Look, I know this is all very hard to wrap your head around, but I’m going to need you to read the entire file tonight, sign and initial every page and then come back tomorrow to start working on this thing,” James said, with a sigh. “The hard part is that you’re going to have to learn a lot – and you’re going to have to learn it fast. I’ll have Jo pass you some books on heavy metals, building with metals and basic weapon designs. It won’t be big, but it’s going to be noisy, which is why we chose the coroner’s office.”
“This isn’t meant to be done by some lay-person. It has to be done by a pro, and maybe even a few pros! What made you think I could do this? There is no way I could do this on my own,” Jake replied.
“You’re not alone, Jake-meister. You have Hootch, James, me, the billion or so CFBs in your gut – which is why men make extremely smelly poots, by the way. And then there’s Fallon. That turd is coming in next week. He’s the electrical guy who’ll connect Jamesie’s computer crap to our wanda-weapon-base!” Jo screeched. “You’re not alone, you’re anything but,” Jo said gently as she placed the receiver down and began to search through drawers to find loose change for dinner.
“What about Jordi and Chris? How long do you think you can keep this from them? And what about the shop? You can’t just expect me to abandon it for six weeks! I really don’t think I can do this, guys,” Jake said as Hootch jumped up and sat on a seat in preparation for dinner.
Ignoring Jake’s last statement, “Atta boy Hootch! Dinner will be here in a jiffy!” Jo said as she turned to pull our cutlery from a kitchen drawer, which was also cherry pink.
“We chose you because we couldn’t touch anyone from the government research facilities. You’re the only one we can trust, and you’re the only who has the potential to do this, even without the proper training and education. We need you, Jake. And to an extent, you need this to pull you out of that rut you call ‘living’,” James said, trying to comfort Jake.
“Yeaa, it’s going to be you, me, Jamesie, Hootch and Fallon. We’re going to build this ‘thang. Go smart guys, go Hootchie, go Jakey, goooo Supa Nerds!” Jo started cheering as she did some kind of strange jig, or victory dance - maybe she was having a seizure. Jake could not be sure.
Friday 11 June 2010
Bug Nuts and the Idiot
Missed Chapter 1? Read it here!
Missed Chapter 2? Read it here!
Missed Chapter 3? Read it here!
Missed Chapter 4? Read it here!
“Thanks, Chip. I really appreciate it. You just have to watch the shop for a couple of hours, okay?” Jake said to Chip. Four days after planting the microphone and with no new information on the mystifying lady named Jo, Jake decided to check her out during office hours. He was done listening to nothing but her music, which she had varying taste in, and her amusing banter with the dog – which he still had not seen. Did she not walk him?
“Hey, no problem, dude. You’re really busy these days. Whatcha been up to? You’ve been closing up earlier than usual over the past few days. You alright?” Chip said, drawing him out of thought.
“Yeah, just working on something, that’s all. Anyways, thanks again. I’m off. I’ll be back before closing time,” Jake said to the pimple-faced teenager. He was a good kid, and right now, he was a saviour.
Closing the store door and striding towards the truck, Jake looked over at The Coffee Grounds. She was not there. Feeling good about the whole endeavour, he jumped into the truck, fired it up and flew down to Rover Lane. He had found a good spot to spy on her and although it got a bit too hot in the evenings, he did not mind.
Parking the car and grabbing his self-named double-oh-seven spy kit, he crouched down in his spot. The grass had flattened considerably and if anyone cared to look, they would know a “human” had been trampling all over the area, and that then “trampling” was done often.
He put on the ear phones and turned on the hub. The microphone worked like a charm.
“Really, now? Look, I don’t give a shit either ways. This is taking way too long, and I have a bunch of Feds breathing down my neck,” a man said. A man was in her house? What is going on? Was she in some kind of trouble? All these days there had not been anyone, and now suddenly there was a man shouting at her? Quelling the protective instinct that was burgeoning and the creeping jealously, Jake listened on.
“Ooooo. At least you’ve got someone breathing on you. Shut up, now. You know what’s been happening. It’s only a matter of time. He’ll come, he can’t resist the lure. I’ve set the bait perfectly,” Jo said.
“Set the bait perfectly? What? You set the bait so perfectly that every man in town wants to ‘breathe’ on you! Wait till the world finds out what a bloody basket-case you are,” the man groused.
“Why, you little shit. I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m hungry. You?” she replied, and Jake knew the sound of her voice when she was smiling. He had come to know her quite well, actually, what with all the “spying” he was doing. Stalker. He knew she liked eating pop corn, she listened to all kinds of music, she had a dog named Hootch, she smoked – he saw the cigarettes and ashtray a few nights back and he knew she was working on something, if only because she had a habit of talking to herself. Almost like a commentary for the world to hear, only with no substantial information.
“You see? You’re bug-nuts. Brilliant, but bug-nuts. We need it built, and we need it built yesterday,” the seemingly amused man said.
“Oh, alright. Keep your pants on. We’ll get him one of these days, or should I go get him now?” she said.
“Now is a good idea. Go get ‘em, tiger!” the man said, laughing. Jake wondered why this man sounded a lot like him, or at least had a similar tone.
“Tiger? Seriously? Lame. I’m a Panthera tigris, moron,” she laughed out.
“Fucking bug-nuts. God only knows why I was chucked with a loon like you,” he mumbled.
Watching the window with his binoculars, he continued to listen on. He had now made himself comfortable on the knoll of grass, well hidden by the taller weeds that the Town Council “forgot” to take care of. He was lying on his belly, earphones on and binoculars literally attached to his eye sockets.
“Hello!” a cheerful, familiar voice said. Before he could turn around and get up, he saw the butt of a Glock G21 heading for his face. Unable to block the attack, he felt the hard steel of the handgun bash into his left temple and he blacked out instantly but not before hearing her say something.
“It’s all about stealth, baby – and this Panthera tigris has it. Fuck, I’m good.”
***
“Gosh, he’s handsome. Six feet two, or three - I can’t be sure, of pure, hard male. Yummy, yummy,” Jake heard her say.
“Stop being a pervert. Wake him up. He’s my brother for God’s sake. I never said you had to assault him! I can’t believe you hit him! He’s not trained the way you are, you menace!” the male voice said.
“James?” Jake said as he roused.
“Hey! It was a non-lethal blow!Oh, lookie here, he’s awake. Isn’t he just the cutest? Would you like a cuddle?” Jo asked.
“Don’t mind her, she’s a nut-case,” James muttered.
Attempting to stand and failing miserably, Jake noticed that his hands had been fixed to the seat handles with handcuffs.
“I know, right? Kinky! I’ve always wanted to ‘chain a man to a chair’! Well, James-sie, aren’t you going to introduce me to your big brother? He’s so big and so...” she was cut off by a swift hand gesture from James. “Party pooper.”
“She just won’t shut up, Jake. You need to let me explain what’s going on before I uncuff you, okay?” James said.
“Uncuff me now so I can strangle you. How could you let her knock me out and cuff me to a chair? It’s obvious you don’t plan on killing me or interrogating me, so let me go! I’ll listen to your explanation either ways!” Jake snapped.
“So, it’s like this. Meet Dr. Johanna Lester. Celebrated particle physicist and weapon’s expert, trained militant and crazy-lady. Don’t say anything until you hear me out. I’m your brother, yet it’s protocol that I introduce myself to you,” James said.
“Oh, can I, can I? Meet James Foster. Celebrated computer geek, trained militant and idiot extraordinaire!” Jo, or Johanna interjected.
“God, will you shut up! Now Jake, we needed to bring you in like this because there was no other way. We had to get you to come onto our property so we can tell the big guys up there that you were a willing party in all this,” James said pointedly.
“Willing? Do I look willing to you right now?” Jake shouted and looked pointedly at the hand cuffs. He took a moment to absorb his surroundings, an environment he had been looking at from the outside in. Now that he actually was inside and he was pleasantly surprised that it was not the Coroner’s lab with all sorts of tools the good “Dr” could dissect him with – or torture him with. James was there, which was a comfort even though he felt a little betrayed by it. “How did you know I was watching her?”
“Easy, big boy – and you really are a big boy. You weigh approximately 183 pounds. I know a lot of things. I may not have cameras outside, but I do have a thermal-sensor perimeter set up. Plus, I really do enjoy hunting, particularly delicious-looking prey. Meowr!” Jo explained, with her hands doing some kind of claw-like movement which made her look silly.
“So, can I continue now?” James asked her sarcastically. They obviously knew each other well, at least well enough to insult each other without offending one another. “We work for a securities company based in the Czech Republic, but owned by Americans. We were assigned a project that could only be done in a remote location, but on American soil. We need to build something, which is a rather complex mechanism, and we plan on building it right here, in Somerset.”
“I’m 185 pounds, thank you. That’s all well and good, but firstly, what is it you need to build, why is this woman armed, which ‘company’ do you work for and finally, why am I here?” Jake asked impatiently.
“Because you’re going to build it, Jake-meister!” Jo replied gleefully.
Chapter 6 will be out on the 14th of June! Thanks for reading Reading Raynes!
Missed Chapter 2? Read it here!
Missed Chapter 3? Read it here!
Missed Chapter 4? Read it here!
“Thanks, Chip. I really appreciate it. You just have to watch the shop for a couple of hours, okay?” Jake said to Chip. Four days after planting the microphone and with no new information on the mystifying lady named Jo, Jake decided to check her out during office hours. He was done listening to nothing but her music, which she had varying taste in, and her amusing banter with the dog – which he still had not seen. Did she not walk him?
“Hey, no problem, dude. You’re really busy these days. Whatcha been up to? You’ve been closing up earlier than usual over the past few days. You alright?” Chip said, drawing him out of thought.
“Yeah, just working on something, that’s all. Anyways, thanks again. I’m off. I’ll be back before closing time,” Jake said to the pimple-faced teenager. He was a good kid, and right now, he was a saviour.
Closing the store door and striding towards the truck, Jake looked over at The Coffee Grounds. She was not there. Feeling good about the whole endeavour, he jumped into the truck, fired it up and flew down to Rover Lane. He had found a good spot to spy on her and although it got a bit too hot in the evenings, he did not mind.
Parking the car and grabbing his self-named double-oh-seven spy kit, he crouched down in his spot. The grass had flattened considerably and if anyone cared to look, they would know a “human” had been trampling all over the area, and that then “trampling” was done often.
He put on the ear phones and turned on the hub. The microphone worked like a charm.
“Really, now? Look, I don’t give a shit either ways. This is taking way too long, and I have a bunch of Feds breathing down my neck,” a man said. A man was in her house? What is going on? Was she in some kind of trouble? All these days there had not been anyone, and now suddenly there was a man shouting at her? Quelling the protective instinct that was burgeoning and the creeping jealously, Jake listened on.
“Ooooo. At least you’ve got someone breathing on you. Shut up, now. You know what’s been happening. It’s only a matter of time. He’ll come, he can’t resist the lure. I’ve set the bait perfectly,” Jo said.
“Set the bait perfectly? What? You set the bait so perfectly that every man in town wants to ‘breathe’ on you! Wait till the world finds out what a bloody basket-case you are,” the man groused.
“Why, you little shit. I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m hungry. You?” she replied, and Jake knew the sound of her voice when she was smiling. He had come to know her quite well, actually, what with all the “spying” he was doing. Stalker. He knew she liked eating pop corn, she listened to all kinds of music, she had a dog named Hootch, she smoked – he saw the cigarettes and ashtray a few nights back and he knew she was working on something, if only because she had a habit of talking to herself. Almost like a commentary for the world to hear, only with no substantial information.
“You see? You’re bug-nuts. Brilliant, but bug-nuts. We need it built, and we need it built yesterday,” the seemingly amused man said.
“Oh, alright. Keep your pants on. We’ll get him one of these days, or should I go get him now?” she said.
“Now is a good idea. Go get ‘em, tiger!” the man said, laughing. Jake wondered why this man sounded a lot like him, or at least had a similar tone.
“Tiger? Seriously? Lame. I’m a Panthera tigris, moron,” she laughed out.
“Fucking bug-nuts. God only knows why I was chucked with a loon like you,” he mumbled.
Watching the window with his binoculars, he continued to listen on. He had now made himself comfortable on the knoll of grass, well hidden by the taller weeds that the Town Council “forgot” to take care of. He was lying on his belly, earphones on and binoculars literally attached to his eye sockets.
“Hello!” a cheerful, familiar voice said. Before he could turn around and get up, he saw the butt of a Glock G21 heading for his face. Unable to block the attack, he felt the hard steel of the handgun bash into his left temple and he blacked out instantly but not before hearing her say something.
“It’s all about stealth, baby – and this Panthera tigris has it. Fuck, I’m good.”
***
“Gosh, he’s handsome. Six feet two, or three - I can’t be sure, of pure, hard male. Yummy, yummy,” Jake heard her say.
“Stop being a pervert. Wake him up. He’s my brother for God’s sake. I never said you had to assault him! I can’t believe you hit him! He’s not trained the way you are, you menace!” the male voice said.
“James?” Jake said as he roused.
“Hey! It was a non-lethal blow!Oh, lookie here, he’s awake. Isn’t he just the cutest? Would you like a cuddle?” Jo asked.
“Don’t mind her, she’s a nut-case,” James muttered.
Attempting to stand and failing miserably, Jake noticed that his hands had been fixed to the seat handles with handcuffs.
“I know, right? Kinky! I’ve always wanted to ‘chain a man to a chair’! Well, James-sie, aren’t you going to introduce me to your big brother? He’s so big and so...” she was cut off by a swift hand gesture from James. “Party pooper.”
“She just won’t shut up, Jake. You need to let me explain what’s going on before I uncuff you, okay?” James said.
“Uncuff me now so I can strangle you. How could you let her knock me out and cuff me to a chair? It’s obvious you don’t plan on killing me or interrogating me, so let me go! I’ll listen to your explanation either ways!” Jake snapped.
“So, it’s like this. Meet Dr. Johanna Lester. Celebrated particle physicist and weapon’s expert, trained militant and crazy-lady. Don’t say anything until you hear me out. I’m your brother, yet it’s protocol that I introduce myself to you,” James said.
“Oh, can I, can I? Meet James Foster. Celebrated computer geek, trained militant and idiot extraordinaire!” Jo, or Johanna interjected.
“God, will you shut up! Now Jake, we needed to bring you in like this because there was no other way. We had to get you to come onto our property so we can tell the big guys up there that you were a willing party in all this,” James said pointedly.
“Willing? Do I look willing to you right now?” Jake shouted and looked pointedly at the hand cuffs. He took a moment to absorb his surroundings, an environment he had been looking at from the outside in. Now that he actually was inside and he was pleasantly surprised that it was not the Coroner’s lab with all sorts of tools the good “Dr” could dissect him with – or torture him with. James was there, which was a comfort even though he felt a little betrayed by it. “How did you know I was watching her?”
“Easy, big boy – and you really are a big boy. You weigh approximately 183 pounds. I know a lot of things. I may not have cameras outside, but I do have a thermal-sensor perimeter set up. Plus, I really do enjoy hunting, particularly delicious-looking prey. Meowr!” Jo explained, with her hands doing some kind of claw-like movement which made her look silly.
“So, can I continue now?” James asked her sarcastically. They obviously knew each other well, at least well enough to insult each other without offending one another. “We work for a securities company based in the Czech Republic, but owned by Americans. We were assigned a project that could only be done in a remote location, but on American soil. We need to build something, which is a rather complex mechanism, and we plan on building it right here, in Somerset.”
“I’m 185 pounds, thank you. That’s all well and good, but firstly, what is it you need to build, why is this woman armed, which ‘company’ do you work for and finally, why am I here?” Jake asked impatiently.
“Because you’re going to build it, Jake-meister!” Jo replied gleefully.
Chapter 6 will be out on the 14th of June! Thanks for reading Reading Raynes!
Wednesday 9 June 2010
Pass the Salt
After closing the shop, Jake drove straight to Jordi’s place – mostly because he was anxious to find out what James did for a living. Walking into the house, no knocking or door bell ringing required because people in Somerset still left their doors unlocked, he stopped to say hello to Jaimie who was playing video games.
Jaimie paid absolutely no attention to him and he began to think that he had no effect on women in general, not just Jo. As he rose from the mud-coloured couch, he ruffled her hair and said, “Kid, when you grow up, try not to be too beautiful, okay?”
Met with silence, save for the sound of screeching aliens who were being blasted to smithereens by some kind of a laser gun, he moved to the kitchen to find Jordi standing over the stove. He envied Chris. Chris had it all – a beautiful family and a simple life. Financially, he was sure Chris did well enough, since he was after all the only bookshop owner in the tiny town. He stood quietly at the kitchen entrance and watched his sister move around the kitchen gracefully.
He then was struck by a vision of Jo in a kitchen. She was clumsy, she had to be. He then chided himself for even thinking about Jo – in a kitchen! Flashes of Jo on his bed threatened to invade his thoughts and he stifled them by opening his mouth and starting to talk.
“Where’s James? Chris?”
“Harrumph. Those two will drive me nuts. James still hasn’t come back from his supposed ‘meeting’ and Chris is waiting for a shipment of books to come in,” she replied, crooking her fingers to make the quote-unquote sign. “Put some music on will ‘ya. I feel like grooving while mashing the potatoes.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said as he turned to switch on the radio. He sat at the dining table, which was conveniently located in the kitchen and the two of them chatted about everything and nothing.
Chris came home first. Looking a little tired, and as bookish as he possibly could, he kissed his wife and went to play the alien bashing game with Jaimie. Minutes later, James walked in and slumped onto his seat at the dining table.
“Dinner!” Jordi screeched angrily. “Heathens, come and eat! I will not wait another second for you people! Jaimie, wash your hands! James, sit straight! Chris, stop playing that awful game and come sit down, will you?” she barked. Put her in a pair of army fatigues and she would look right at home with the jarheads down at Jessup.
As they ate dinner, Jaimie told everyone about her day at school and how she beat Rita Myers at Math .
“Pass the salt, Jake,” James said.
Holding the salt shaker hostage, Jake raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Jaimie found the “eyebrow” raise particularly funny and started to giggle, making Chris smile – and Jordi frown.
“You’ll get the salt after you tell us something,” Jake said, sardonically.
“Yeah, you don’t pass that salt to him until he answers our question,” the now interested Jordi said.
“Fine. I’ll answer your stupid questions,” James replied, looking irritated.
“What do you do for a living? Tell us about your job,” Jake said, holding on to the salt shaker for dear life as Jaimie tried to pry it out of his hands playfully.
“What? Since when do you people care about what I do for a living? This is ridiculous! Pass me the damned salt before I lose it,” he gritted.
“Whoa. What’s with you, man? Don’t scare Jaimie,” Chris interjected. “It was just a question, no need snap.”
“I work with computers, alright. I do stuff. I came home for a break and I don’t see how being interrogated about my job constitutes a holiday,” he snapped.
Passing him the salt, Jake says, “So who do you work for?”
“What’s with the sudden interest?” James replied, trying to smile so as to not scare Jaimie whose lower lip was quivering. A good cry was imminent, and if they did not let up, they were all in for a guilt-laden lecture from Chris who knew nothing about what was going on.
“Whatever. Leave me alone, guys. I mean it. I really don’t want to talk about my job, and I really don’t see a need to do so,” James said dejectedly, daring a glance at Jaimie, who had now tucked her head and attached it cleverly to Jake’s armpit. He would have laughed if there was not so much tension at the table.
They finished dinner in silence, with the occasional word or two from Chris who was trying to cajole everyone back into a jovial mood – with no real success. Dishes were cleared and washed methodically in silence, Jaimie was put to bed and James was now more suspicious than ever.
He left Jordi’s place and drove straight to Rover’s Lane, which ran parallel to Penny Lane. He parked and got his “spy kit” out of the back seat and moved with he considered to be stealth toward the back of the Coroner’s office. The streets were not lit well, probably because the street light nearest to the Coroner’s Office was not working. He found a spot he felt was safe and took out his binoculars.
Setting his sights on a window that appeared to be open, with a little light in the room he waited for movement. Nothing. He continued to wait for approximately fifteen minutes before anything he saw a shadow – a slim and very feminine one, pass by the window. The shadow moved around, elegantly and he could not help but find her interesting. Even the way she moved was awkward, yet it seemed fluid and graceful.
The shadow moved, and she had obviously left the room. It was now dark, and he noted that she had not shut the window. He reached into his bag and fished around. This was his chance.
“When you want to stalk someone – or spy on them, you’ve got to go all the way,” he said to himself. He pulled a sling shot he had sneakily stolen from Jaimie and readied it. Digging into his jacket pocket, he tugged out a stick of gum and began to chew on it vigorously. He then got out the long range microphone which he had re-wired, altered and tested during a lull at the shop earlier today. He had soldered it onto a small, square metal plate.
His components now ready, he firmly placed the gum on the bare, back surface of the metal plate and placed it in the middle of the rubber garter of the slingshot. Taking aim, “I’m the best damn shot I know, and if this fails, at least I can study the sound of plants growing.”
Pulling back the rubber garter of the slingshot till it was taut, cricking his neck, he readied himself for the shot. He released the rubber garter and with a grunt of satisfaction, he watched his illegal microphone fly through the night and land perfectly on the window sill. He waited to see if it had attached firmly. Picking up his “spy kit” he slowly backtracked to the truck.
Before driving off, he picked up the hub of the portable, battery-powered microphone and switched it on. Putting on his earphones and knowing what he was doing might get him thrown into a jail cell or padded room – depending on who caught him first; he turned up the volume and tuned to the sounds coming from the house.
The first sound to hit him was the ridiculous, jarring sound of her radio. This time, she was listening to Barry White. The sound of water running and – was she singing?
“Trying to hold back this feeling for soooo long. And if you feel like I feel baby, then come on! Yeeeaaahhh Hootchie boy, don’t just sit there waggin’ yer tail. I’ve got some serious dance moves I want to teach you. We’re all sensitive people, with sooooo much to give. Spin, Hootchie, spin!” he heard her and the excited bark of the dog. He heard everything.
“Damn, now don’t you wish you were a dog,” he said to himself with a smile.
Laughing to himself, he sat there a little while longer while she danced with the dog and prepared for her shower – or Hootch’s shower. He really wanted to know what her dog looked like. He figured you could tell alot about the breed of one’s dog.
He knew he had to go back to charge the batteries of the hub, and he wouldn’t get a signal from his place. It was late, he’d come back tomorrow, during his lunch break and after office hours. He would have to find someone to watch the shop for him during working hours. He knew Chip might fill in for him, for a few extra bucks. This woman was worth it, whoever she was.
Missed Charpter 2? Read it here
Missed Chapter 1? Read it here
Chapter 5 will be coming to you on the 11th of June! Thanks for reading!
Sunday 6 June 2010
James?
“Seriously, Hootch, you tripped the alarm because you’re hungry?” she said angrily, though he thought he heard a smile in her voice.
As metal shutters rose, he saw the closed circuit camera monitors and a red alarm light beaming. He saw himself in the monitor, standing by the window and knew that she would see him in a matter of seconds. He ducked and literally crawled to a blind spot he had noticed in the short time he had to study the camera positions.
“Boy, this is what I call taking stalking to a new level,” he muttered to himself.
He heard thumping. A consistent low sound accompanied by the brief sound of what sounded like small stones being dropped on plastic. She whistled and the thumping stopped. He figured Hootch was a dog and his wagging tail must have been the thumping sound. Hell, his heart thumped when he saw her, there was no way the dog could escape her charm. Struck by a sudden panic that a dog would be far more perceptive than the inanimate cameras, he slowly moved towards the fencing of the house.
It was only when he was a fair distance away from the house that he stopped to think about what he just saw. Trying to remember every nuance, he thought about the complex “glass” screens, the exposed wires, the entire CCTV set, the room on the far left which could have been her actually dwelling and the metal shutters.
Stunned and admittedly scared, he decided it was time to pretend he saw nothing and go back to his shop. He got back into his truck and took one last look at the supposed Coroner’s Office. He was willing to bet his prized World Series baseball bat that “Jo” or whatever her name is was not as simple as her signature stir-lick-lick.
As he readied the shop for the day, he felt a stirring in him. It was excitement. He felt exhilarated, what with the entire prospect of investigating this strange, but painfully beautiful woman. He was on edge. He knew there was not a soul in Somerset who could operate the computerized systems he saw. What did she do for a living? Who was she? Was she a criminal? Did she work for someone? What was she involved in? Was she part of the military? He knew the base down in Jessup County had some scientists and researchers in-house, but “Jo” certainly did not look like the average scientist. She was way too hot to be a book-type scientist; though he had a feeling she was mad enough to be one.
He left the store counter to search for his binoculars and long range microphone he hid at the back of his shop. He smirked as he remembered how he had bought the amateur “spy kit” for Jordi when she was 19 and determined to get a degree in Criminal Justice so she could become a private investigator. That idea had been thrown out the window the moment Chris found out about it. They had been dating since she sucker-punched him – literally and he had a say in pretty much everything she did.
As he arranged the dusty set, he was jarred out of his random musing by the sound of the bell attached to the shop front door. He quickly covered the set he had placed on top of a wooden crate with a fire blanket and moved to the front of the store.
“Whatcha doing, big brother?”
“Jordi. I’m working. What do you need, little sister?” he asked sarcastically.
“I broke the toilet flush. Can you fix it? I really couldn’t be arsed to find a plumber. Please?” she requested gently.
“Yeah, sure, no problem. I’ll come take a look at it during my lunch break, okay?” he answered quickly, though he knew it might give him away.
“Hmmm. What’s going on? You’ve got that crazed 1989 look on your face again and you and I both know something’s got you buzzing,” she queried.
“What? No. Now run along, you’re throwing off my groove!” he laughed, a little too nervously.
“Fine, fine, fine. As if you had a groove to begin with,” she scoffed as she opened the front door to leave. “By the way, steak and mash for dinner. Don’t be late or you’ll end up eating that God awful pecan pie old lady Percy makes for dinner.”
Satisfied that she had left, he busied himself with the shelves in the store and kept working until lunch hour came. He called himself ten kinds of fool for thinking he should pursue his little “surveillance” project as he drove to his sister’s house. He threw the truck into park and as he walked up to the front door, he saw James’ car again. Funny, how James’ car was the most unique in the county, yet he kept seeing it all over town.
“Oi! Runt! I’m here!” he yelled out as he crossed her living room. He saw James sitting at the dining table, looking quite pensive reading the papers.
“Hey James. What’s going on? I thought I saw your car early this parked round the back of the coffee shop,” Jake said, trying to sound as nonchalant about as he possibly could.
“Hey. Yeah, I went for a cup of coffee and the paper,” he answered shortly.
“You mean the paper you’re reading now?” Jake said proudly, knowing he had caught his brother in a lie.
“Yeah, uh, I didn’t have time to finish it,” James replied gruffly.
“James-sie here must’ve gone to check Jo out, since everyone goes at ten to nine to check Jo out,” Jordi said absently as she entered the kitchen carrying a basketful of laundry. “Now get to work, slave. The toilet is upstairs!”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get right on it,” he laughed. “You!” he said to James, “don’t go anywhere. We need to have a little chat.” The idea of James ‘checking’ Jo out did not sit well with him. No, there was no way Jake could possibly be jealous of his baby brother ‘checking out’ some crazy chick. She was gorgeous, but definitely crazy.
As he worked on the toilet flush in his sister’s bedroom, he heard the two of them joking and laughing. The phone rang, and he knew it was Chris, calling her to tell her how his day was going. He smiled to himself. He had a good thing going with his family. Sure, he and James had some things to work out, but they always got through it. They were a little over a year apart, which was why they competed for everything.
He was sincerely happy James took the scholarship from M.I.T. He stopped turning his monkey-wrench when he remembered that. James could almost definitely operate and understand the complex computer system at the Coroner’s office. If there was one person who could, it would be James. Should he tell James about what he saw? Was James involved with this Jo lady somehow? Completely baffled by this new revelation, he suddenly realized he had no idea of what James did for a living.
It was funny how Jake had managed to put it all together. Even funnier was the fact that he knew nothing about what his brother did for a living. He had never thought to ask. Now he was jumping to conclusions, thinking James was somehow involved with Jo, her lab and her dog, Hootch. He made a resolution to find out.
He finished up with his sister’s toilet flush and went downstairs to find her folding laundry.
“Where’s James?” he asked.
“Dunno. He said he had an appointment. I didn’t even know he still had friends here in Somerset anymore. He left so long ago, you know. Maybe it was a work meeting,” she said.
“Speaking of work, who does he work for? Any idea of what kind of work he does?” Jake asked himself, more than he was asking her.
“Funny you should ask. I was thinking of asking him myself. Isn’t it strange how we haven’t figured that out all these years. Maybe we’ve been too self-absorbed to ask him,” she said thoughtfully.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right, runt. We’ll ask him tonight,” he said as he left the house.
He was deep in thought as he drove back to the store. He still had fifteen minutes to opening time. His mind kicked into overdrive. Something in him pushed him to drive past the shop and head towards Penny Lane.
“What am I doing?” he asked himself, out loud. He was also half-expecting to see a black Mustang outside the Coroner’s office, but no such luck. The yellow Hummer was still there, and he did not bother to stop. There was no point trying to figure this all out during his lunch hour. He would come back, tonight, after dinner and gather some “intel” on this woman – after interrogating his brother about what he did for a living.
Everything would fall into place, he figured. He reprimanded himself, laughed at himself for even daring to think that he was some kind of “detective”. He owned a hardware store, and had a college degree in Management and Logistics.
“Pfftt. Helluva damned good detective you’d make, Foster,” he muttered to himself as he drove back to the shop, a little sad that he had not seen her again. He quite liked her red ankle boots. He quite liked the look of her and that smile she gave him earlier today was sincere, he knew that much. Fixated on the plan he had set for the rest of the day, he slowly drove back to the shop. It really was time for a change.
Missed Chapter 1? Read it here.
Missed Chapter 2? Read it here.
As metal shutters rose, he saw the closed circuit camera monitors and a red alarm light beaming. He saw himself in the monitor, standing by the window and knew that she would see him in a matter of seconds. He ducked and literally crawled to a blind spot he had noticed in the short time he had to study the camera positions.
“Boy, this is what I call taking stalking to a new level,” he muttered to himself.
He heard thumping. A consistent low sound accompanied by the brief sound of what sounded like small stones being dropped on plastic. She whistled and the thumping stopped. He figured Hootch was a dog and his wagging tail must have been the thumping sound. Hell, his heart thumped when he saw her, there was no way the dog could escape her charm. Struck by a sudden panic that a dog would be far more perceptive than the inanimate cameras, he slowly moved towards the fencing of the house.
It was only when he was a fair distance away from the house that he stopped to think about what he just saw. Trying to remember every nuance, he thought about the complex “glass” screens, the exposed wires, the entire CCTV set, the room on the far left which could have been her actually dwelling and the metal shutters.
Stunned and admittedly scared, he decided it was time to pretend he saw nothing and go back to his shop. He got back into his truck and took one last look at the supposed Coroner’s Office. He was willing to bet his prized World Series baseball bat that “Jo” or whatever her name is was not as simple as her signature stir-lick-lick.
As he readied the shop for the day, he felt a stirring in him. It was excitement. He felt exhilarated, what with the entire prospect of investigating this strange, but painfully beautiful woman. He was on edge. He knew there was not a soul in Somerset who could operate the computerized systems he saw. What did she do for a living? Who was she? Was she a criminal? Did she work for someone? What was she involved in? Was she part of the military? He knew the base down in Jessup County had some scientists and researchers in-house, but “Jo” certainly did not look like the average scientist. She was way too hot to be a book-type scientist; though he had a feeling she was mad enough to be one.
He left the store counter to search for his binoculars and long range microphone he hid at the back of his shop. He smirked as he remembered how he had bought the amateur “spy kit” for Jordi when she was 19 and determined to get a degree in Criminal Justice so she could become a private investigator. That idea had been thrown out the window the moment Chris found out about it. They had been dating since she sucker-punched him – literally and he had a say in pretty much everything she did.
As he arranged the dusty set, he was jarred out of his random musing by the sound of the bell attached to the shop front door. He quickly covered the set he had placed on top of a wooden crate with a fire blanket and moved to the front of the store.
“Whatcha doing, big brother?”
“Jordi. I’m working. What do you need, little sister?” he asked sarcastically.
“I broke the toilet flush. Can you fix it? I really couldn’t be arsed to find a plumber. Please?” she requested gently.
“Yeah, sure, no problem. I’ll come take a look at it during my lunch break, okay?” he answered quickly, though he knew it might give him away.
“Hmmm. What’s going on? You’ve got that crazed 1989 look on your face again and you and I both know something’s got you buzzing,” she queried.
“What? No. Now run along, you’re throwing off my groove!” he laughed, a little too nervously.
“Fine, fine, fine. As if you had a groove to begin with,” she scoffed as she opened the front door to leave. “By the way, steak and mash for dinner. Don’t be late or you’ll end up eating that God awful pecan pie old lady Percy makes for dinner.”
Satisfied that she had left, he busied himself with the shelves in the store and kept working until lunch hour came. He called himself ten kinds of fool for thinking he should pursue his little “surveillance” project as he drove to his sister’s house. He threw the truck into park and as he walked up to the front door, he saw James’ car again. Funny, how James’ car was the most unique in the county, yet he kept seeing it all over town.
“Oi! Runt! I’m here!” he yelled out as he crossed her living room. He saw James sitting at the dining table, looking quite pensive reading the papers.
“Hey James. What’s going on? I thought I saw your car early this parked round the back of the coffee shop,” Jake said, trying to sound as nonchalant about as he possibly could.
“Hey. Yeah, I went for a cup of coffee and the paper,” he answered shortly.
“You mean the paper you’re reading now?” Jake said proudly, knowing he had caught his brother in a lie.
“Yeah, uh, I didn’t have time to finish it,” James replied gruffly.
“James-sie here must’ve gone to check Jo out, since everyone goes at ten to nine to check Jo out,” Jordi said absently as she entered the kitchen carrying a basketful of laundry. “Now get to work, slave. The toilet is upstairs!”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get right on it,” he laughed. “You!” he said to James, “don’t go anywhere. We need to have a little chat.” The idea of James ‘checking’ Jo out did not sit well with him. No, there was no way Jake could possibly be jealous of his baby brother ‘checking out’ some crazy chick. She was gorgeous, but definitely crazy.
As he worked on the toilet flush in his sister’s bedroom, he heard the two of them joking and laughing. The phone rang, and he knew it was Chris, calling her to tell her how his day was going. He smiled to himself. He had a good thing going with his family. Sure, he and James had some things to work out, but they always got through it. They were a little over a year apart, which was why they competed for everything.
He was sincerely happy James took the scholarship from M.I.T. He stopped turning his monkey-wrench when he remembered that. James could almost definitely operate and understand the complex computer system at the Coroner’s office. If there was one person who could, it would be James. Should he tell James about what he saw? Was James involved with this Jo lady somehow? Completely baffled by this new revelation, he suddenly realized he had no idea of what James did for a living.
It was funny how Jake had managed to put it all together. Even funnier was the fact that he knew nothing about what his brother did for a living. He had never thought to ask. Now he was jumping to conclusions, thinking James was somehow involved with Jo, her lab and her dog, Hootch. He made a resolution to find out.
He finished up with his sister’s toilet flush and went downstairs to find her folding laundry.
“Where’s James?” he asked.
“Dunno. He said he had an appointment. I didn’t even know he still had friends here in Somerset anymore. He left so long ago, you know. Maybe it was a work meeting,” she said.
“Speaking of work, who does he work for? Any idea of what kind of work he does?” Jake asked himself, more than he was asking her.
“Funny you should ask. I was thinking of asking him myself. Isn’t it strange how we haven’t figured that out all these years. Maybe we’ve been too self-absorbed to ask him,” she said thoughtfully.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right, runt. We’ll ask him tonight,” he said as he left the house.
He was deep in thought as he drove back to the store. He still had fifteen minutes to opening time. His mind kicked into overdrive. Something in him pushed him to drive past the shop and head towards Penny Lane.
“What am I doing?” he asked himself, out loud. He was also half-expecting to see a black Mustang outside the Coroner’s office, but no such luck. The yellow Hummer was still there, and he did not bother to stop. There was no point trying to figure this all out during his lunch hour. He would come back, tonight, after dinner and gather some “intel” on this woman – after interrogating his brother about what he did for a living.
Everything would fall into place, he figured. He reprimanded himself, laughed at himself for even daring to think that he was some kind of “detective”. He owned a hardware store, and had a college degree in Management and Logistics.
“Pfftt. Helluva damned good detective you’d make, Foster,” he muttered to himself as he drove back to the shop, a little sad that he had not seen her again. He quite liked her red ankle boots. He quite liked the look of her and that smile she gave him earlier today was sincere, he knew that much. Fixated on the plan he had set for the rest of the day, he slowly drove back to the shop. It really was time for a change.
Missed Chapter 1? Read it here.
Missed Chapter 2? Read it here.
Thursday 3 June 2010
The Builder 2 - The Yellow Hummer
"Stop sulking, grizzles."
"Grizzles? Really, Jordi, he's a grown man. A 32 year-old, grown man. Let's not forget he's one angry looking grown man," another voice quipped.
Four pairs of eyes were studying Jake at the dinner table. He hated coming home for dinner. His family, while incredibly supportive, were nothing but vultures when it came to his personal problems. Although, he would never actually admit that he had a problem. James, his younger brother, worked in the city. He was down in Somerset County for a supposed business trip, though it looked more like he came to mooch off his sister, Jordanna.
Jordanna did not quite like to be called Jordanna, mostly because it sounded too effeminate. "Jordi" stuck the day she punched Chris Klysters in the nose for calling her fat when she was six years old. Next to "Grizzles" was Jordi's four year-old daughter Jamie. The poor boy who was on the receiving end of Jordi's punch when she was six was now the poor man who was married to her. Chris Klysters stood to clear the dishes from the table. Jordi made a wicked bowl of chilli.
"Really, Jake, what's up with you? You glared at that little lady, Jo or whatever her name is, so hard that she may have shattered if she were made of glass," Jordi raged. She witnessed the whole debacle and rushed home to tell her husband and brother, who shrugged it off.
"Why are we discussing this anyway?" Jake groused.
"Yeah, Jordi, why are we?" Chris added.
Jordi silenced him with a look so fierce that he turned instantly and skulked into the kitchen with a stack of dishes in hand. James, who had not said a word so far, appeared distant. Ever the jester, he usually would be the first one to laugh at his elder brother. His silence had gone unnoticed this time.
"I'm out of here, guys. Chris, thank you for the hospitality. James, catch you tomorrow. Runt, I don't want to see you at my shop in the morning if you're going to keep bugging me."
"See? Grizzles is the perfect name for you. I, for one, think it's quite apt," Jordi squeaked.
Minutes later, Jake was in his rusty, old pick-up truck, heading home. He had a plan. He knew what needed to be done, and he knew he could no longer quell the urge to find out more about Jo. Everybody has a footprint, and he was determined to find out what hers looked like.
As he showered, he thought of ways to approach her, without looking like a ghoul from hell. He thought he may just keep it simple or maybe he would try to make her laugh. She really was quite a sight when she smiled. He would not forget it. He was not one for flowery words, but he could not stop himself from wanting to say cheesy words like “delightful”, “charming”, “exquisite” and “alluring”. Feeling restless, he tossed and turned all night, if the blankets in the morning were anything to go by.
He woke the next morning feeling anxious. He was going to do it today. He was going to introduce himself to her. He had his entire plan formed in his head and he was going to execute it to perfection. As he drove out to his shop, “Foster Brothers and Company Hardware”, he peered into The Coffee Grounds. He spotted her in an instant. Her back was to the glass window pane. As he parked, he noted that the waiters were enraptured – she was doing the “stir-lick-lick”. Good thing he had missed it. He did not want to lose sight of the goal.
He literally bounced out of the truck, slamming the door a little too hard. Wincing at the sound of the rusty, old door, he strode toward The Coffee Grounds like a man on a mission. Just as he reached the door, a mass of hair assaulted him. As the door slammed into his upturned face, hitting him in the chin, he felt something blunt stab into his toe.
“Oooomph.”
“Yeows!!” yelped the mass of hair which smelled quite nice, he noted.
“Holy cock and balls. I am so sorry! I did not see you there,” the mass of hair shrieked.
“Ow. Really, you didn’t see a 200 pound male idling towards the door? Are you blind? Wait a minute. Are you alright, miss?” he asked, a little to coarsely.
In an instant he knew he had made a grave mistake. The mass of hair was now clearing. A blood red pair of ankle boots, no doubt the damn things stabbed him in the foot, attached to a delectable pair of ankles and calves were now backing away from him. As she shoved her hair away from her face with one hand and rubbed her knee with the other, he found himself looking down at the enigma that was Jo. She was smiling at him again.
“Hah. I can’t believe I just said ‘yeows’! How funny is that? Gosh, holy shit. I can’t believe I hit you like that. I, uh, I, just remembered something and had to dash out to get it. I’m really sorry, uh, Jake. It is Jake, right?”
“You’re a potty mouth,” he heard himself saying. What was he doing? This was not how it had all panned out in his head. He was being a royal jerk again and for the life of him, he could not figure out why.
“Heh. I’m sorry, again. Now, I really must go. If you’re sure you’re alright then I guess I’ll be off,” she said as she turned. He watched her walk away, still gripping the door handle, trying to fathom what had just happened. She had an interesting walk, or run, he could not quite spot a difference.
As if spurred, he followed her. Down past the pharmacy and towards the candy store. When she turned left, he ducked into the candy store. Not able to stop following her, he chastised himself for being a stalker. He walked a few more blocks, keeping a safe distance from her and then waited as she pulled out her car keys and jumped into a big, yellow Hummer. Funny, how he nor anyone else had never noticed the hulk of a car on the street before. She fired up the truck, and deftly pulled out.
He turned away in time to make sure she did not see him. As she drove past him, he thought he heard the distinctive, awful sound of trance music.
“Great, a potty mouth that listens to house music. How old is she, 16?” he muttered out loud, only to receive a glare from Mr Parks, the self-proclaimed leader of the neighbourhood watch.
“Oi, boy, now listen here. I don’t want you to go all crazy on me and start talking to yourself, and talking nonsense at that. Get your act together,” he scolded.
“Right. Sorry ‘bout that, Mr Parks. Won’t happen again,” he automatically answered, momentarily distracted by the gigantic mole sprouting hair on Mr. Parks’ forehead. Drawn out of his ruminations by the harsh tapping of Mr. Parks’ walking stick on his shin, he reversed himself and headed straight for his truck.
With not a minute to lose, he revved the old engine, heard it groan and pushed it into gear. He flew down the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the roaring, yellow truck. He spotted James’ stylish black Mustang parked in the alley just past the coffee shop and paid no attention to it. He was a man on a mission, after all. After a minute or so, he spotted it. He noted the speed he was going and realised she was going 70 miles an hour, in a 30 zone. She was outrageous and, while he would only admit it to himself, very adorable.
As she approached the housing area, she slowed down and turned into Penny Lane. There was nothing much on Penny Lane apart from the Funeral Home and unused Coroner’s Quarters. He stopped on the side of the road as she ventured further down the lane, heading straight for the county Coroner’s office. He got out, adjusted his collar and stood beside his truck as he watched her park and dismount from the colossal truck.
She fished out a bunch of keys from a ridiculous teddy bear which had a zip on it and unlocked the door to the office. As soon as she was inside, she locked the door and disappeared inside. As he approached the office, he heard the blaring sound of music. It was house music again, he realised. He moved toward a window and peered inside, and was horrified.
Read Chapter 1 if you missed it!
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