This is a long post I'm afraid, but it's also one of my favourite characters so I hope you'll excuse posting twice to fit it all in :)
Around the corner The sky was smutty; that was the word for it. If this had been five years ago, just around the time that Monkeybutt took over the Mayoralty of the City and set her sights on building a crime network to rival Mad Frankie's, I'd have pointed you to the prairies to the southwest and told you that when they burn the crop stubble the smoke paints the sky in drab colours and turns the sunsets psychedelic. But today, after the rain has come and gone and the puddles on the streets are rainbow coloured from oil and grease and the slime of putrid human nature... today, I'd have to tell you that the smudges in the sky are anti-aircraft fire. I plodded, one foot mostly in front of the other, down King's Road. There are tall town-houses along there that hide behind tall, but shorter, privet hedges and high iron gates that aren't always electrified. I could see a street-sweeper eyeing me as I meandered toward the Gyratory, probably wondering if he was supposed to pick up mobile rubbish, and what he'd do if I fought back. I ignored him; if he became a nuisance I'd simply drop him over my good shoulder and dump him up against a gate until I found one that was electrified. I fight a little dirty, but I don't start my fights. My fingers dipped into my pocket again. Feeling for the marble in there, knowing that it wasn't a marble but a Sphere of Annihilation hidden inside a marble casing. Not my first choice of object to carry around with me, and my obsessive need to check it hadn't cracked open was either going to be proved right, or result in my sudden disappearance from this City and Monkeybutt's orgasmic delight. I didn't disappear this time, and I made myself pull my hand out and carry on shuffling along the King's Road. Five minutes later, and my heart was pounding in my chest like competing war drums on Viking longboats thanks to the gradual incline on the road, I reached Pine Street and paused. There's a spot there, not obvious, where you can stand and get an uninterrupted view up to the Gyratory. Sure enough, as I twisted myself about to get that sight, I saw what looked like two of Monkeybutt's goons standing waiting. There was no guarantee she knew what I was carrying, but it would be a good guess that she knew something was up and that I'd know something about that.
"You're getting predictable, Mac," said a breathy voice in my ear, and the smell of juniper washed away my thoughts for a moment. "Miss Sapphire," I replied, wishing that my voice didn't sound like it had been wintering at the bottom of the kind of well people lose children down and abandon hope of retrieving them. "You expected me here?" "I expected you to stop here," she said. "This way." We went around the corner which took us onto Pine Street proper. There are people in this City that think there used to be a stand of Pine trees growing here; not at all. There's an IKEA warehouse at the other end and the name is a reference to that. Urban planners have a weird sense of humour. "Mad Frankie doesn't want any accidents, Mac," said Miss Sapphire. She glanced at me, her blue eyes piercing me to the bone. She's statuesque. "And Monkeybutt doesn't know the meaning of subtlety so I thought I might provide... alternative arrangements." I'd have raised an eyebrow but my doctor has shaved both of them off and sent them away for study. He muttered something about never having had to sedate an eyebrow before, but I ignored him; the man is just rude about my health. "This way." This end of Pine Street has more of those town houses and two of them were merged at some point and converted into a boutique hotel. Miss Sapphire set off up the black-and-white tiled front path of Forty Roses and I balked like a horse being asked to jump a ditch filled with dead ponies. "They're not going to let me in there," I said. I pinched the sleeve of my coat, and it fell off. "They're probably considering way to get me off the street already." "Relax, Mac," she called back over her shoulder, pushing open the front door. I saw plastic sheeting hanging like curtains inside. "I told you, we made arrangements. This is a safe space for you transit through, and it'll bypass Monkeybutt's little monkeys. They won't believe you could find a shortcut either." I fingered the Sphere of Annihilation again, wondering for a moment what Mad Frankie could want it for that it mattered where it got put. And that he'd go to the trouble of letting me inside a swanky hotel where the usual patrons probably paid extra for fresher air to breath piped to their rooms. My fingers slipped around the smooth casing of it, and then, all of a sudden, found what felt like a seam.
3 comments:
This is a long post I'm afraid, but it's also one of my favourite characters so I hope you'll excuse posting twice to fit it all in :)
Around the corner
The sky was smutty; that was the word for it. If this had been five years ago, just around the time that Monkeybutt took over the Mayoralty of the City and set her sights on building a crime network to rival Mad Frankie's, I'd have pointed you to the prairies to the southwest and told you that when they burn the crop stubble the smoke paints the sky in drab colours and turns the sunsets psychedelic. But today, after the rain has come and gone and the puddles on the streets are rainbow coloured from oil and grease and the slime of putrid human nature... today, I'd have to tell you that the smudges in the sky are anti-aircraft fire.
I plodded, one foot mostly in front of the other, down King's Road. There are tall town-houses along there that hide behind tall, but shorter, privet hedges and high iron gates that aren't always electrified. I could see a street-sweeper eyeing me as I meandered toward the Gyratory, probably wondering if he was supposed to pick up mobile rubbish, and what he'd do if I fought back. I ignored him; if he became a nuisance I'd simply drop him over my good shoulder and dump him up against a gate until I found one that was electrified. I fight a little dirty, but I don't start my fights.
My fingers dipped into my pocket again. Feeling for the marble in there, knowing that it wasn't a marble but a Sphere of Annihilation hidden inside a marble casing. Not my first choice of object to carry around with me, and my obsessive need to check it hadn't cracked open was either going to be proved right, or result in my sudden disappearance from this City and Monkeybutt's orgasmic delight. I didn't disappear this time, and I made myself pull my hand out and carry on shuffling along the King's Road.
Five minutes later, and my heart was pounding in my chest like competing war drums on Viking longboats thanks to the gradual incline on the road, I reached Pine Street and paused. There's a spot there, not obvious, where you can stand and get an uninterrupted view up to the Gyratory. Sure enough, as I twisted myself about to get that sight, I saw what looked like two of Monkeybutt's goons standing waiting. There was no guarantee she knew what I was carrying, but it would be a good guess that she knew something was up and that I'd know something about that.
"You're getting predictable, Mac," said a breathy voice in my ear, and the smell of juniper washed away my thoughts for a moment.
"Miss Sapphire," I replied, wishing that my voice didn't sound like it had been wintering at the bottom of the kind of well people lose children down and abandon hope of retrieving them. "You expected me here?"
"I expected you to stop here," she said. "This way."
We went around the corner which took us onto Pine Street proper. There are people in this City that think there used to be a stand of Pine trees growing here; not at all. There's an IKEA warehouse at the other end and the name is a reference to that. Urban planners have a weird sense of humour.
"Mad Frankie doesn't want any accidents, Mac," said Miss Sapphire. She glanced at me, her blue eyes piercing me to the bone. She's statuesque. "And Monkeybutt doesn't know the meaning of subtlety so I thought I might provide... alternative arrangements." I'd have raised an eyebrow but my doctor has shaved both of them off and sent them away for study. He muttered something about never having had to sedate an eyebrow before, but I ignored him; the man is just rude about my health. "This way."
This end of Pine Street has more of those town houses and two of them were merged at some point and converted into a boutique hotel. Miss Sapphire set off up the black-and-white tiled front path of Forty Roses and I balked like a horse being asked to jump a ditch filled with dead ponies.
"They're not going to let me in there," I said. I pinched the sleeve of my coat, and it fell off. "They're probably considering way to get me off the street already."
"Relax, Mac," she called back over her shoulder, pushing open the front door. I saw plastic sheeting hanging like curtains inside. "I told you, we made arrangements. This is a safe space for you transit through, and it'll bypass Monkeybutt's little monkeys. They won't believe you could find a shortcut either."
I fingered the Sphere of Annihilation again, wondering for a moment what Mad Frankie could want it for that it mattered where it got put. And that he'd go to the trouble of letting me inside a swanky hotel where the usual patrons probably paid extra for fresher air to breath piped to their rooms. My fingers slipped around the smooth casing of it, and then, all of a sudden, found what felt like a seam.
Greg - all good on my end, as always :)
I am... concerned by Mac's possession of the Sphere. Particularly in such a fragile casing.
... and I can't tell if the story ended there for a dramatic cliffhanger or because our narrator was sucked into oblivion.
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