Wait. Something’s not right. There should have been more of a commotion back there. If it had been just one on one, he could have taken him, just one guy, just one guy following a hunch, from a little girl no less, I need to be on top of this. To stop drifting. The past is in the past, if you see the Buddha at the side of the road do not offer him a ride, but rather kill him, as he is not the real Buddha for the real Buddha resides within us all. Stop and listen, to listen, no footsteps, no sirens, only the traffic in the rain somewhere far away, too quiet, like the movies, like that ridiculous seriousness, there’s always someone dying somewhere, some army moving forward, some world shattering event about to take place, it is coincidence whether or not one is involved in any of them, and, more importantly, which one of these events or wars or deaths that happen to come ones way. Wish I knew who the guy down there was, maybe he’s led the cop somewhere else, faked an emergency, something more urgent than a little girls tip-off. More likely he’s been subdued, taken down, out, away, spilling the beans right now, maybe this will be the last one, absurd thing to say, every time you do something new then the previous time you did it was the last time, guess it’s got something to do with the word ‘latest’, etymology was never my strongest suit, words are what they are, what they were is purely academic, ivory tower trivia. Other-end-of-the-line had better be ready to pay me quite a bit extra, if everything works out. I’ll be alright, never let anyone know of my hideouts, just nod and say that I’ll use theirs if worst comes to worse. If worse comes to Lisbon. Have to learn from experience, once bitten twice shy, fool me once and you can’t fool me again, have to make sure not to repeat patterns, kidnap victims, there is nothing more dangerous than stagnant knowledge, true wisdom does not lie in knowing a lot of things, it comes rather from not being afraid to throw out all that ‘knowledge’ in the quest for better information, quality over quantity. Any day of the week, very fitting philosophy in our profession. We’re a delicate people, to not treat us as such is an insult and we don’t take lightly to those. Wish we had better unions, sometimes, not often, got together for ballgames, hung out around water coolers, talked about cars and loans and the dresses on the women from accounting. Still have the rooftops and the rain and the never let anyone and the police and the lists of priors but also have some sort of tethering point. Other-end-of-the-line is no good at that, Cochlann, Langley, basic training never includes all the basics, so much stuff you have to figure out for yourself in the situation, been doing this for a while now and I bet there are still five million things that I have not yet been faced with. Tonight might be one, only way to cope is to relate to some other incident, oh, this is a 37b with extra lettuce and hold the mayo. Same sandwich, different nuances, food goes in mouth all the same, bitter or sweet. But I guess freedom is what you get in exchange for the water cooler, I’ve snapped back, haven’t I, circling myself down the drain, liquefied like that guy on the garage door. Freedom means getting away, that’s all the freedom we have. This nothing left to lose business eludes me. There were a few loud noises. He hasn’t done anything stupid, can’t work like this, well, homeless people don’t get traced back to us, he’s just some Doe going postal, God I hope he isn’t, okay, let’s walk through it. He stops the cop with a request or more pressing issue than following a picture, like I thought, but that wouldn’t create, I should have been more attentive back there, make do with the facts at hand, he stops the cop with a threat, that would account for the commotion. But what kind of threat, with what kind of repercussive actions and what end results. If threat A then most likely response A with result A. Right. Then there’s Lisbon, then there’s the worst of the worst, lady outside was undercover, even the gaggle were probably in reality Russian spies, someone has to be, and due to her being under a cover mine is blown with other-end-of-the-line possibly having sold me up the river and my contact down there, my bodyguard, having been captured. Where did I want to kick? Any sounds in there? Quiet as the grave, just another transition. From outside to inside, from inside to even further inside, penetrating deeper into the building, boxes inside boxes, like the hot air hitting you, a sudden boost, adrenalin, such a passé word. The faster the body moves, down the drain now, the slower the world appears, LV could be anywhere in there, prepared or unprepared, time to earn my money, time to be the servant. What happens behind me is only interesting if it catches up to me, I move away from the blast wave, never ensnared, always in motion, never standing still still stilly still still, been still so long, unmoving, trapped, caught, please, free myself, life is made up of all the small things, yes, but the small things have a way of fitting into larger patterns, three life periods, none of them memorable, not to other people anyway. Repeating myself, stuck in holding pattern in front of this door. All I have to do is lift up my right leg and then put it down somewhere new.
Ready.
---
First kick down door shoots up comes back immediately just how they bounce off closets too close to the entrance bathroom on the left bedroom here woman drinking liquid have to remember to say the words LV if this is my last if the wave catches me then at least I will have taken you with me my God this is going well already all the way into the room and in control of the situation and she has yet to turn around to investigate what the loud sound from her door was there her shoulders shudder silently but she does not turn around it has to be a trick if this is a trick then what she has no firearm up there behind her front or whatever you say this is getting awkward can she hear me was I this expected must have been if she knew then everyone else will how old is she around thirty more maybe she should be higher up than this well this is how they fire people in her profession I suppose all I do is someone else’s dirty work think I can slow down now think the thoughts I have to think would do better coming at a normal pace, wouldn’t want to forget anything.
“Vilhelms”
Should I have posed that as a question? She stays silent.
“This is your severance pay”
What a truly horrible line. Oh, wait! How am I going to do this? Too much drama, too film noir, too much atmosphere, Venetian blinds, drenched windows, onehandsippingglass, slow dialog.
“I don’t care what they say, Laikin stepped right into that searchlight. I taught him a lesson”
Vocce, vox, what a voice. Like she’s already dead, like I’ve already killed her. I’m ready now. Won’t let myself get freaked by this, I’ve tried freakier. She’s drawn breath to speak again, I’ll let her.
“What are you waiting for”
Nothing. I wait for nothing. It’s not the way things work in my trade.
Take a souvenir, no. Leave a calling card, no, and now for the dilemma. Count heartbeats, footsteps, stairsteps. Okay, Lisbon is officially off it’s top spot on the list, considering the simplicity of the act and the insecure position I’m currently in I almost feel set up. Like I need that kind of stress. Shouldn’t call this a failure before it’s failed, didn’t fail down south. Just slowly see what happens and try to react and change what you can. It’s a beautiful world we live in, greater poet - or an even more failed librarian - than me once said that he loved the country but couldn’t stand the scene. I guess this is the scene. Guess this sprawling offering to the gods won’t be made holy any time soon. Out of the drain, circle, anything else here, window that won’t open but that’s fine, it’s facing the wrong way anyway. Some of the windows in the hall weren’t, shattered exit it would seem, racing through city streets in the rain at night. That time in Lisbon, crawling back to the van, unseen, knew I had to, no way we could have outrun anything in that. Langley would not be proud of my current situation. I’m still fairly okay I suppose. Steal some towels for my wrists and to make sure I didn’t bleed on anything, never let anyone know. And back into the hallway, no one heard you, you are fine and you are leaving. Cochlann would be proud, unyielding, like Tsunetomo in his cave, dry and safe and scolding the ronin for not dying with their master, for not dashing into it headlong, for making plans, that old ex-samurai would love my current situation, I made plans and now they might all come to nothing, this part of course has come to something, so old ‘tomo would call it a success, rather live to see another day myself, no reason to commit seppuku just yet. Wonder who would win in a battle of ideologies, Sun Tzu or Tsunetomo, guess that was all that separated Langley and Cochlann. Are you under siege or are you attacking planlessly, to think someone would actually laud planless action. Probably a Zen thing. Hallway still empty, no one heard the kick? maybe they didn’t, don’t know, seems odd, too much seems odd right now. Maybe I’m odd, that’s not an impossibility, far from it, feels like every thought is coming to me twice tonight, archipelagos and rainfall, was there noise or not? The past is in the past unless it’s the wrong past in which case the true past is very much in the future. Not wrong, misunderstood. Even the crocodile has to eat. Wish I could see the car from here, if they didn’t hear the kick then maybe they won’t hear the smash, the glass hitting carpeting and concrete, me hitting concrete for that matter. I could just dash for the downstairs exit, right into a mine-field of unknowns, right right, there’s no fire escape? they set off alarms but that would be just as well here wouldn’t it, slip away in the chaos. Except there might not be any chaos, ThreeTooth down there might be someone and that might mean that they’re standing by the bottom of the stairs. Blast my way out, done that before. Which is probably why they want me so bad, if they want me, never bring real people into it. Didn’t, just enforcement, multitude prefers you take down the protectors, enforcement prefers you take down the sheep. They all wear their hearts on their sleeves. Doesn’t matter what hand is where, time’ll pass, it doesn’t matter if I do it or if it’s some cancerous blob in your colon. Memento mori. Three steps back, no room for four, deep breath, breathe deep. Hands first?, shoulder first!, good firm overcoat, picking glass out of flesh would take time, disrupt driving process. And I’m through in the first try, ground coming up to me coming down to it. Glass is just sand, sand is just rocks, I just smashed through a boulder. Somewhere in New Mexico there must be a glass desert. Fury of fire and flame, melting rocks, she reads Attreidies, in front of the place with fire - fireplace - we drive for an eternity towards mountain ranges, things certainly fly fast when you’re flying fast. So much time spent in mid-air, like a racehorse, legs never touching the ground, speeding ahead, whipped, reaching my goal, getting the flowers draped round my neck, all to be turned to glue. Glue is a useful product, cemeteries are overflowing with well fertilized flowers whether or not I’m part of it. Should tell them I want to be cremated, no worms eating at me, might as well burn the body as well as, well, you never know, science might be right, tell who actually? not like with donor cards, my tell-tale heart beating ever onwards, my tell-tale liver forever turning wine into water. Time isn’t flying, it’s standing still, Einstein look look, I’ve done it, I’m moving at the speed of light at the speed, look, I’ll be still, stilly still, just look. Asphalt, bend down with it, mustn’t get hurt, need to get to the car. Before I can even think of driving I have to think of driving, be in the mind of driving, no childish outbursts, my knee is skinned but I don’t care, won’t cry, iodine. Not my time to be burned, not yet, not my time to become spare parts. To catch the blast wave, to reflect the light to drench those left behind. Not my time. Cool it. ThreeTooth can come after me if it wants to, but there will not be given any reasons here, not in a generous mood, no probable cause, suspicion. Look alright, look like I’ve just taken a piss back here, look like I’m a little off my usual game - whatever that might be - but better days are around the corner, maybe I’ll kick the booze or I’ll finally call my son or maybe I’ll get a new job. Not quite a bum, definitely someone with the key to a place to live, his own place, but not someone who has anything worth stealing, the backbone of any city, Citizen Suffering Apathy, why they suffer differs from sufferer to sufferer but apathy they all share, same kind of heavy blanket, dreamless sleep, same kind of despair at the back of the throat, coming out only as heavy sighs, same kind of, well, I’m one of them now. That’s how I look. Could lecture on the subject of appearing to be a generic social class, people would probably love the theory of it but most likely only very few would go far enough to truly understand the image-enhancing qualities of jumping out of windows. Slow trot, what would I be doing here, in this neighborhood, must be bars here, I’m forced to cut across due to lack of public transport, only true public transport walking, only right and real and personal way for the public to get around, so that’s what I’m doing here. Being free and cheap. How can it be cheap to be free, language fails us sometimes, ow leg ow, idiomatic expressions clash head long into foreign words and millennia-old failed translations. That would be my only question to God, or god if that is the case, whatsoever we hold true on Earth, your popes included, is that what You hold true up there? Is Miriam a virgin now, does the Lord of the Flies ever miss his castle? Part of the reason for my lack of faith in anything but myself, faith is admirable but religions are ridiculous, even more so if they’ve realized that fact and are desperately trying to fix the content of their books while still outwardly remaining faithful to even the most obvious lie and deception. You get enough of that in day to day life, no need to institutionalize it. Maybe I should rant and rave, maybe mutter, no one comes close to an insane person, then again they do notice the almost-sapient, too inconspicuous, I was built for this, I was built to blend in, even without a crowd. I was built to go from ice-cold businessman to CSA in just one simple application of gravity. Nice to have a purpose, one man can serve many masters though, there’s lots of other stuff I could be I think, lots of opportunity, many roads to turn down, like this left turn here, round the corner, not round the bend, and there’s the scene, just like I left it, CellPhoneArgumentPinstripeMidAgeMan’s still at it. ‘Tooth is where it used to be. Where’s SunglassesAtNight? Where’s the Contact? They might still be inside, there’s no car here, no sirens in the distance, right?, right, no sirens, not even in the distance, just some traffic, just the vital signs of a city, echoing unheard reaches, the park is quiet, it’s meant to be quiet, it’s locked off at night, full of junkies and homeless and outcasts and ne’er-do-wells. Unlike a CSA like me, we’re too weak and subdued to do crime. Really is quiet, quite, quit it, fence is too tall, no jump-ambush, not for you, me. Traffic kind of light for a Friday. This is a Friday? Sweep of days. If this is going south then it’s the smoothest and most detailed journey in that direction ever. How much would that, am I that much, maybe they think I can unravel, caught Jakob in Atlanta, he never cracked. Until now maybe, long time to sit in a basement being punched and kicked and covered in freezing water or whatever they do in the real world. Simple basic rules, you hold out, you hold on and then you lie, Dantooine, any resource wasted by someone not of us is a resource gained. Never unravel. Counting steps, lessee, another twenty or so steps, opening the door, key turns ignition, back up and go forth. Doing the speed limit, maybe a little less, like I’m looking for something, from denizen to tourist in one easy step, it’s all in the appearance, servants in uniforms, we don’t have uniforms, I’ve never owned a trench coat in my life. Some with uniforms. Just so you’re sure. Some with their profession shining out of their eyes, some obeying prejudice, cardigans and pipes, jeans and t-shirts. Some uniforms. Fifteen more steps and I can forget about that which is mentioned but never appears, that which resides somewhere real - that much is certain - but that somewhere real place is not here, not now, not ever here, actually. They search for me I search for a way to not be found. Games we play. On company time. At least we keep active, we don’t just stand by trees at roadsides debating whether or. On company time. Ten more steps, Occam was right after all, there is no great conspiracy, no unseen hand stretching its fingers around you, snatching you away from all you know and care about, thank you razor. No rule of thumb functions if you’re not ready to beat your wife in the first place. Prepared to follow the basic idea. No wall-crawling yet. A single leap of faith, sure, but no shambling scrambling don’tfallnow. This time it’s an exercise of the mind, which is kind of worse, pathetically obvious as it may sound. My mind is always up there, alarms always ringing, even off duty, walk down the street, know everything knowable, from handedness to address, part of my training that. Conflicts inevitably arise, three more steps, told to forget and told to recall, told to put away and told to retrieve at a moments notice. She was sitting on a bench at the edge of a park where we used to be like everyone else and do like everyone else, I hated so much about myself and she was herself indifferent, I don’t get around much anymore. Associations are so very important. Never let anyone know but I never truly forgot, not until I did anyway, and I had forgotten what I was trying to remember, why stir up memories, and bam park and she didn’t even recognize me, made eye contact like an idiot and still she couldn’t see it was me. Almost spoke to her, recalling some pent-up apology speech, vintage stuff, meaningless, wanted to let her know that I thought about her once. But there was nothing of me in my own reflection in her pale brown eyes. Been invited on dates, might have gone, but what for, not like I can offer anything but sporadic comfort and suspiciously large amounts of spending money. There is nothing of her in me and nothing of me in her. I’ve forgotten again, recalling her image is even difficult for me, everything ages, everything gets ravaged by time, no escaping, no standing stilly in the corner. Door remains unlocked, key remains primed. Explosions, preparing for the explosions. That was about all we talked about, feel so grownup with the asphalt under your wheels and the beers inside, but all we talked about was cops and robbers, armymen, fisticuffs and explosions. Tried to imagine what that must have been like, failed, human imagination only works up to a point. It works excellently up to that point but after the point it begins to work against itself, it neuters expectations and makes expert witnesses of illogical ideas. Mustn’t put myself down, experience creates paranoia. Limitation of the shared consciousness, inability to grasp the entire world, every nuance, every pain and joy, every exciting experience, every dull one, like ads telling you that while you sit down in your couch to watch TV a child dies of hunger. The message doesn’t get through, you hear the words and see the pictures and know what death and hunger and child mean but there’s nothing inside to make sense of that outside. Sometimes that kind of disconcertedness can be forced, oh yes, if you prick me do I not bleed, sure but what is this blood and how do I know that your ‘pain’ is like my ‘pain’? and thus one is protected from the rather uncivil aspects of ones job. Someone on the list, number five I think it was, asked me, before he/she/it knew that their time was up, asked me what I did for a living. I told him/her/it that I ran from the police, oh, because of something you did? kind of, but mainly because of what I’m going to do. And I did it, so it wasn’t theatrics, it was just conversation, yes, I did it. Number five was easy, there was no cleanup, no roadblocks, no rain, no lying in wait, no contacts, just a classic contract. Amazed at how many variations that can exist on a simple theme like mine, sometimes you’re competing with others and no one pays you for getting rid of those, Langlann, Cochley, job one for us is always the medical issue, any personal requests are secondary, we explain this to costumers. Tell them, always, that if they are out to humiliate or drive insane then they are looking at a far more expensive job, one which we will not be able to guarantee that we can perform satisfactorily. And satisfaction is what I’m all about. Linger? No, let them catch me on all fours, my hands on the fifth, transmissions automatic, I don’t even have to shift. Wonder where that couple went, like looking down from a high place, like wanting to fall just to see what that would be like, feel like going back to see what actually happened, unlikely that other-end-of-the-line will ever tell. The truth. The truth is only what is seen, weaving tangled webs is not that hard, maintaining them, not falling through gaps, that’s the hard part. And as long as you keep it simple then divinity is within your reach, grasp, easily, the world is yours for the shaping, just tell the small lie, avoid propaganda tactics, never adding too many zeroes. Never doing three actions when one will suffice. The best liars are trustworthy types. Like me.
And I’m off.
