The thing about superpowers is you’re always scared of losing them. It’s like when you’re a kid and you have a cool toy that some older, bigger kid wants and you know that he’ll take it. Yeah, it’s like that.
But you know, when something happens like aliens come down from Ventron with the planet killing photon ray or the undead squid monsters come back from eternal dreaming, you are the one to step up and kill the bastards. The entire army can be standing behind you with cruise missiles, Abrams tanks, a fleet of A10s and B2 bombers loaded with atomic bombs, but you are the only one — the only fucking one — who is allowed to take the damned things down. At that moment when Mr. Squid-head starts babbling at you in a thousand tongues or the Ventron’s warm up the big purple planet-fucker you really wish the powers would go the hell away.
But they never do. Not just then anyway.
No, the damned powers stick around until the you meet some two-bit crystal-ball gazer who knows the secret words. Then you’re screwed.
And nothing happens. Don’t get me wrong, shit goes down, but nothing your partners or team-members or mentor or the caped ape-shit-crazy from the dark city six states over can’t handle.
It’s just so annoying. Like having your arm in a cast or your ear blocked up. But instead of a handicap, you’re normal, like every other fucking asshole on the planet. Every single Normal expects you to be a super-powered machine. And you’re not.
You want the powers back. Not because you’re some groupie loving schmuck or attention hound but because the Normals look at you and they make you itch with their needy stares and their helplessness and their god-damned hero worship.
You want the fucking cast off already.
The last rays of the summer sun disappeared behind the Sawtooth Mountains. A black Lincoln Town Car cruised up U.S. Highway 61 from Two Harbors in the August dusk. In the rear of the car three passengers sat. Each passwnger held a glass of whiskey and each was wrapped in her thoughts. Two of the passengers were anyway. Violet Capagio stared out at the glorious blue sheet of Lake Superior. She thought about the past and about Laurel Swanson losing her robotic strength, speed and abilities. Secrets tied to restoring those powers nagged at her thoughts. Lynda Mc Phereson looked down at her glass of Jameson and thought about her future with the mysterious and nearly omnipotent Thurn & Taxis organization. She also thought about her future without it. Laurel Swanson, her third-ever glass of whiskey finished, lay slumped against Violet, half-humming, half-singing ‘Waking up in Vegas’.
For the twentieth time.
“You’d think that a robot with seventy zigabytes of memory would have access to more than one song,” Lynda grumbled.
“Give her a break,” Violet told her. “She was through a lot yesterday*. Besides, she can’t access her digital memory.”
The car drove northwards up the road. It passed through a town of a single restaurant, two small cabins, a scenic overlook and a sign with the name ‘Castle Danger’.
Violet snorted. “Christ, what author could pass that up?”
The car hit a slight bump and Violet spilled her drink on her skirt. She silently cursed the writer. Soon the car stopped. They were at another scenic overlook, this one next to the Gooseberry River. Violet climbed out and walked to the wall. The overlook was a massive stone structure and made Violet feel as if she were back in France standing atop a castle ruin rather than in far northern Minnesota.
Laurel opened her door and stumbled out onto the pavement. Her legs wobbled and her body swayed back and forth in an invisible breeze. Violet went to her in case the robot needed to be picked up. Finally Lynda climbed out of the car and walked towards stairs built into the stonework of the overlook.
“Come along, Vi,” she said. “And bring Laurel. She’s in no shape to navigate the stairs herself.”
Violet took Laurel’s arm and the two walked towards the steps.
“Who knew three drinks could effect a robot this badly.”
“To be fair,” said Lynda, “this is her first time drinking.”
“I don’t feel too good,” Laurel whined.
“Can robots barf?” Violet asked.
“Try to point her towards the bushes, dear” Lynda told her. “That way we don’t need to hose off the steps. It bothers the tourists.”
“Where are we going anyways? I don’t see any stainless steel towers or obsidian fortresses.”
Lynda laughed.
“Not every T&T location looks the same.”
They reached the bottom of the steps and instead of following the well marked path, Lynda walked along the base of the stone wall. As they went Violet noticed what looked like doors and windows in the rock. Each one was carefully filled in with matching stones so that only the impression of openings remained. Lynda walked on until she came to a filled doorway and stopped. Uncut grass and brush came up close to the wall.
“Wow,” said Violet. “Quite the dump you have here. I’m impressed.”
Lynda glared at Violet and tapped a small, pink stone set next to the door, then pressed her face close to a gap in between two stones. Violet could clearly see a green light scanning the leprechaun’s eyes. The door-shaped space remained stationary. To the right of the space seven of the stones began to pull back creating an opening large enough for the women to enter.
“Overly dramatic,” said Violet. “Pointlessly obscure, and no doubt engineered to last three hundred years. This must be the place.”
The three women went through the opening and into a brightly-lit space extending as far back into the hillside as they could see.
“This is the secondary storage facility,” Lynda told them. “And this is where I will be leaving you.”
The petite woman turned and faced Violet. “I have a report to make to my superiors. Chris will show you to the lab.”
Violet turned to look at Chris, a very rugged and tight young blond twenty-something boy. She turned back to Lynda. The leprechaun had vanished. Violet turned back to Chris and Laurel hiccuped.
“Lead on,” Violet told him.
Chris walked down a long row of shelving that stretched from floor to ceiling and packed neatly with crates and boxes of nearly random and apparently infinite shapes and sizes. Laurel, who was stumbling more than walking slowed Violet’s progress. At that speed Violet was able read the labels on some of the crates.
‘Apollo set: 1 of 37′
‘Unidentified animals?/people?. Groom Lake Base’
‘N-Ray detector’
Two guards appeared from a cross aisle and fell in step next to Violet.
Chris turned back without giving an indication that he had noticed any addition to their party.
“I think they want you to keep your eyes forward,” he said.
Violet turned her eyes toward Chris, admiring the young man’s rear and walked on through the warehouse. It was immense. Laurel grew slower and slower as they went until finally Violet was nearly carrying her.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Laurel whispered into her friend’s ear.
“We’re stopping,” Violet announced.
“Just a little ways,” Chris told her.
Violet stopped. “She really needs to take a rest.”
A guard grabbed Violet and started to drag her down the aisle. Violet reacted not by attacking but by spinning Laurel around so that she faced the guard. The rotation had the effect of stripping whatever remaining equilibrium Laurel had and the guard found himself covered with undigested whiskey and some non-biological liquid that smelled like rotten milk and bleach.
“I told you she needs a rest. Stop here.”
“It’s just a little further, Miss Capagio,” Chris said. “Then she can lie down.”
“Bed,” Laurel groaned and stumbled on. Violet followed Laurel who followed Chris. The guards stayed behind cleaning each other off.
Within a few yards the trio had reached the end of the aisle. Chris lead them to a stainless steel door set into a wall of white tile. A young woman about five foot two in a white lab coat came out.
“Come inside, please. I’m ready for you.”
Laurel lurched into the room. It was filled with what looked exactly like an MRI scanner, except for the tall, white tower with the giant yellow nuclear symbol on it.
“My name is Cici,” the girl said.
Laurel had already flopped down on the imaging bed and was once again humming music. Restraints emerged from the table and secured Laurel’s arms and legs. Laurel didn’t seem to notice.
“How much did she have to drink?” asked the tech. “She’s really flying.”
The tech looked over at Violet who stared at her own nails with interest. When Violet finally looked up it was with disdain.
Cici slapped the palm of her hand to her own face.
“What am I saying? She’s a robot. Robots aren’t supposed to be drunk.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Violet told her. “but you’re the expert.”
They both looked down at Laurel strapped to the exam table.
“I guess I can run a straight diagnostic on her. I have a few scans T&T were able to get from her last visit.”
“You do that,” Violet told her. “Glad to hear her past visits haven’t been in vain.”
Cici cocked her head at Violet and for a moment Violet thought the tech might not know what she was talking about. Then Cici’s head straightened and she nodded at Violet.
“We’re all on the same page. Great.”
Violet’s esteem for the girl dropped. There was a stack of not to badly expired magazines on a table next to a hard plastic chair. Violet grabbed a copy of Home and Garden and took a seat. She read the entire magazine before Cici spoke to her again.
“I’m happy to say Laurel matches up perfectly to her last scan.”
Cici released Laurel from her restraints, not that the robot noticed.
Violet only blinked.
“And what does that mean?”
“She seems to be operating normally,” Cici told her.
Violet stood and smiled a smile that make the tech feel not at all at ease.
“Cici, not that I doubt your expertise, ’cause I do…”
If Cici heard Violet she didn’t show it.
“But I want to make sure we’re both on the ’same page’ as you put it.”
“Okay. What do you want to know?”
Violet shook her head and took a deep breath.
“Yesterday my girl there could beat up a dragon, Cici. Today she get’s drunk. Robots do not get drunk. What the fuck?”
Cici took a deep breath and a cautious step towards the exit.
“I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am,” she squeaked while turning the door knob.
Violet flinched at that last remark but held back as much as she could. All that showed her distress was her right hand moving to where a pistol would have been..
“Laurel is, as far as my scan can find, is exactly the same as she was the last time T&T looked at her.”
Violet took a single step forward and Cici disappeared through the door leaving Violet alone with the quietly bopping robot.
Violet leaned down over Laurel. She closed her eyes and breathed in time with Laurel. After a few breaths she bent her mouth down to Laurel’s and kissed her.
“Please get better,” Violet said.
Violet brushed Laurel’s long black hair from the side of her head and touched the robot’s forehead. She opened the door and left.
Lynda met her outside.
“So, Laurel is operating normally,” the leprechaun said.
Violet was unsurprised that Lynda knew.
“As far as Cici can tell. For what that’s worth.”
Without warning Violet spun and slapped the hard white tile of the wall next to the door.
“God damned it! I want answers,” she shouted. “T &T is supposed to be this uber-corporation and Cici is the fucking best you can do? Honestly?”
Lynda said nothing but merely stood next to Violet as she vented..
“What am I supposed to do?” Violet finally asked Lynda. “She’s just in there with no powers.”
Lynda nodded.
“Maybe you should just let her be. Just let her go,” Lynda said. “Eventually T&T will find out what’s wrong. Until then we can keep her safe.”
“I can’t,” Violet said. “She’s…mine. My responsibility.”
Lynda smiled.
“I know,” She said. “We all know.”
Violet turned to Lynda. She didn’t smile or shout. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in deeply. There was a sound from inside the room. Laurel was vomiting again. Violet went inside to help and Lynda followed.
Laurel sat up on the table holding the waste basket in her lap. A dot a puke rested on her chin.
“Feeling better?” asked Lynda.
Laurel nodded slowly, then shook her head and leaned forward with her face in the wastebasket. She heaved..
“The strangest thing about this,” Lynda told Violet, “is that technically she doesn’t have a stomach.”
Laurel looked up from the wastebasket, her mouth opened, and glared at Lynda.
“I don’t want to live like this,” Laurel said.
“Don’t worry,” Violet told her. “This will pass in a few hours.”
“Not this!” Laurel shouted. “Not being sick! I don’t want want to live without powers, without my strength. I want to be normal again.”
Lynda sighed. “T&T is working on the problem right now….”
Laurel cut her off. “Fuck T&T. I need the schematics. I need this fixed now.”
“We don’t know where the schematics are, dear,” Lynda said. “Give us some time and T&T will find out how to fix this.”
Laurel turned to Violet. “Please find the schematics.”
“Where?” Violet asked. She was exasperated. “Where do I even look? You told me you’ve been through your dad’s stuff a hundred times and there was no trace of it.”
“I don’t know where it is. Ask the witch. She worked with my dad. Maybe she’d know.”
Violet sighed. “You want me to go poking around in your father’s life?”
Laurel nodded.
“We’ve been through this, sweetheart. You might not like what I find. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“I need this. I need to be back to normal.”
Violet lowered her head and pursed her lips. “All right. I’ll go back and look for the schematics.”
“I’ll come too,” Laurel told her.
“No,” Violet said. “I can’t protect you and find your schematics.”
“But….”
“You’ll stay here. You should be safe – this is where T&T keep their secrets.” Violet turned to Lynda.
“We would be happy to put Laurel up for a few weeks,” said Lynda. “We may even stumble on a fix.”
Laurel began to say something but the returned her head to the wastebasket. Violet saw this as a good time to leave.
“If you could get me a flight back home I’ll leave right now,” she told Lynda.
“The plane is ready. I’ll call the car.”
Violet opened the door. Laurel yanked her head up from the wastebasket.
“You can’t leave me here. They’ll take me apart.”
Lynda smiled at Laurel.
“We will do no such thing, sweetie. After that incident last time we wouldn’t dream of it.”
“That’s just because I destroyed the lab,” Laurel protested.
“Actually it’s because we didn’t think we could get you back together. You’re perfectly safe.”
Laurel looked at Violet with eyes wide with fear and desperation.
“Find the schematics – fast.”
Violet smiled at her friend and left with Lynda close behind. The leprechaun was laughing.
“That was just cruel,” Violet told her.
“I know, but it was fun.”
“You won’t do anything to her while she’s here.”
“Of course not. We will run scans of course, but T&T has no more idea of what is wrong with Laurel than she does.”
Violet smiled. “Good, because it would be a shame if I had to come back here and get her.”
They stopped in front of an elevator and Lynda pushed the ‘up’ button.
“This will take you to the upper garage. Your driver will take you to Two Harbors and from there you will go back to the cities. I won’t be joining you.”
“Nothing terrible I hope.”
“My superiors think I might benefit from a reassignment. Seeing you off is my last official act”
The elevator arrived and Violet got on.
“I hope you are assigned someplace nice,” she told Lynda.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to it. She doesn’t know, does she?”
“Know what?” asked Violet.
“About you. About Skyway. You never told her.”
Violet shook her head.
“I suppose she’ll find out now. Mind your fingers.”
The doors closed and Violet was alone in the elevator. There were no buttons and it began to rise on its own. Violet thought for moment about what she knew she would find and how to tell Laurel. The elevator stopped. The doors opened. Violet stepped out into the dark parking garage. She crossed the floor to a waiting Lincoln Town Car. The driver opened the door and Violet climbed in. The driver climbed in behind the wheel and closed his door. The car started out of the garage into the darkness and Violet dialed a number on her cell phone.
“Danielle? I need to speak to the witch.”
Violet paused to let the dragon speak.
“Sweetheart, I don’t care what she says.”
Another pause.
“Tell her she doesn’t owe us for the last job.”
One last pause and then “Fine. Meet me at the Humphrey Terminal in about an hour.”
Violet hung up and for the first time in a long time she was afraid.
The thing about superpowers is that when you lose them you gotta give up something to get them back. It ain’t always a fair trade.
*Yes, I am quite aware that the Episode 12 was only one in-story day. Web-story time – deal with it.
So its almost, nearly, just about the end of winter, which is just about the same as spring, almost.
Of course this is when the snow arrives. With the snow comes Fred, my neighbor in back and to the north, and the coveter of my twelve-horse snow blower.
“Had to snow, didn’t it,” Fred comments lamely.
“I guess so, Fred,” I answer
“Ma Nature is some cold bitch,” he says.
“You bet, Fred.”
“I bet we get two or three more of these storms.”
The reason for Fred’s sudden interest in the state of the weather is that I have just finished my own driveway and he is now angling to use my machine on his driveway. That, and Fred is a slow leak.
The weather is about all he can muster. I suppose he has another five minutes in him and I prepare to stand listening to him yipping away. Is there is a pay off at the end of all of this? Of course there is.
Finally, Fred exhausts his stock of weather comments. I let him stand silent for a minute, ogling the pristine green expanse of the auger housing and the massive steaming piston casings in the engine block.
He was about to wet himself, so I broke in.
“Would you like to use it?”
Its a tribute to Fred’s ability to recover that he was able to say ‘you bet’ as soon as he did.
I ran him through the basics and then broke the bad news to him.
You knew there would be bad news, didn’t you.
“I’m going to take the wife to get a vacuum,” I told him.
“Uh-huh,” he grunted.
“I think I promised Roger I’d do his driveway, too. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“No, sure thing. You bet.”
He starts the blower up, puts it in gear, and rumbles down the street. I watch him for a minute, just until I see Ray Meyers at the end of his driveway. He talks to Fred for a second. Fred looks down the street at me. I wave a big full arm wave. Fred does a little finger wave. He isn’t smiling.
My wife comes down to the car, ready to go. She looks down the street to Roger’s house when Fred is just starting in. Mrs. Koenig is watching form her porch and talking to Roger.
“How many driveways will he do?”
“‘Bout six before he gets to his own. One or two after that, if he doesn’t get discouraged.
She nods.
“How much?” she asks.
She knows me too well.
“Twenty five each.”
She nods again.
“Dinners on you,” she tells me.
It never hurts to help.
Trying to get a short story ready for publication at the same time my boss wants to go through yearly reviews. You have never seen so much posing in your life. One of my cow-orkers (no mistake there) actually told someone that he ‘logs on to email on Friday night and don’t log off until Monday morning.’ Yeeesh! I wanted to wash my whole body in bleach. Good thing I’m ten years older than he is or I might feel threatened. They can threaten me but that’s all they can do.
The short story is a Steampunk fantasy with the regular SM cast lightly disguised. If it is published I will post full details here, otherwise the full story goes up as post-arc story.
Keep reading. The story is nearly finished and ready for publishing next week.
Blog readers are the best!
Yes, I know I said ‘late January’ but I am currently working on a gaslight story with Violet, Laurel, Ned, the witch, Daniel and Doctor Swanson. If it gets published I will tell you. If it get’s rejected the rejection notice (if any) gets posted and the story along with it. Yay! double public humiliation, and a show! The Internet at its best.
Next week: What will happen to Laurel now that she is stripped of her powers? Can she survive in an alien world without her powers? Will Violet step up to solve the puzzle? And will Violet ever use her own powers? Tune in next week to find out!
Drinking: Vampire Merlot. A weak merlot at best. No spice but plenty of alcohol.
Listening: GooGoo Dolls courtesy of my wife.
Reading: Places to be, People to kill. A collection of short stories about assassins.
Reading: Girl Genius: so far the BEST web comic I’ve come across. Kinda reminds me of a porno comic I vaguely remember from my mis-spent youth. God! The screwdrivers! Better then MegaTokyo only because they post three times a week. Otherwise….
I do so love Christmas time; the lights, the music, the money. At no other time of the year will people of all races, creeds, and income brackets come together to swill searing-hot, chocolate-flavored water and eat stale sugar cookies while standing in line outside in subfreezing temps waiting to sit on a piece of plastic and slide down a hill. Of course, toss in a rack of ‘hand knit’ mittens, a booth of ‘imported’ ‘Swiss’ Christmas decorations and a table of ‘imported’ ‘South American’ ‘wool’ sweaters and you’ve got a going concern. Just the sort of thing I like. All for a good and mostly legitimate cause, the Chainsaw Juggler’s Widows and Orphans fund.
Honest, you can look them up.
New Robbins Valley Lions Park Snow Festival (unofficial) is in its third year and doing better than ever. This year my blanket supplier cut me a great deal on a line of ‘hand-made’ quilts from Malaysia. I set those $30 rags up on a table at $250 a pop and had seventy nine year old Gladys Rienke sit snuggled deep inside one. She’s happy to do it as long as I keep her supplied with her ‘special’ cocoa.
“Hey, shit head,” Gladys yells to me. Fortunately this is right when the horn for the toboggan race sounds so no one else hears. I scramble over to her table, all smiles and joy.
“Quiet, Gladys,” I say leaning over her, “Or I’ll take you cocoa away.”
Gladys takes a hasty gulp and puts the mug down in the snow, out of my reach. She and I know there is no chance of that stuff freezing – not with the amount of schnapps it contains.
“This cheap-ass quilt is makin’ me break out,” she whines.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I want more money. If I gotta slather myself with Jergens every night I want a bigger cut.”
I look around to see if anyone was listening and smile malevolently at the old broad.
“The statute of limitations for insider trading is probably longer than you’ve got left,” I tell her, reminding her that I have tape recordings of her on the phone with her sister-in-law explaining that her husband’s company was being bought and they should ‘buy, buy, buy’.
“But I tell you what I’ll do, I’ll go down and buy you a case of Noxema, How’s that?”
She glares at me. “You are the lowest son of a …”
There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and missed the final word of Gladys’s sentence. It was Barry Taylor, the guy running the cocoa stand.
“Ricky, we’re running out of the, ’special additive’ for the coaco.”
I dug a fifty out of my jeans and passed it to him.
“Go down to Zenith liquors and tell Peng we need another case. Tell him it’s for me.”
He nods.
“How are the pull-tabs going?” I ask Barry.
“Great,” he says, “after Santa go into the cocoa and bought a hundred tickets.”
Gladys leans over her table and forces some crumpled bills into Barry’s hand.
“Give me fifty of the tabs,” she told him.
Barry looked at me and I nodded and then mouthed ‘No more cocoa,’ to him. He left to get the liquor and that’s when the trouble arrived.
A spotless black Lincoln Town Car pulled into the upper parking lot, blocking in four cars. Two men with crew-cuts who looked as though they could be pro wrestlers, both sporting black baseball jackets with the ‘Mooks by the Minute’ logo on the back exited the car. They looked carefully around the park and then the one on the left opened the rear door. Out climbed an impeccably groomed man in a long, brown coat. A white scarf, undoubtedly silk, hung loosely from his neck.
“Oh shit,” I said under my breath. I put on my best smile and went down to greet Nick Carmile, the new Mayor of New Robbins Valley.
“Hello Mr. Mayor,” I said with my hand extended.
He looked at my hand as though I had just picked my nose and nodded to one of the rent-a-goons. I was escorted to the opposite side of the car, the door was opened, and it was made clear to me that it was my destination. The mayor was already back inside, seated comfortably and holding a tumbler of amber liquid. I climbed in and heard the front doors close and the car pulled out of the lot.
“Thank you for inviting me into your car, Mr. Mayor,” I said.
He nodded. I looked around the car. It was the usual influential person special: leather seats, real wood trim, mother-of-pearl knobs and buttons, television, bar, Uzi.
“You understand why you are here?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” the Mayor said.
Okay I was being recorded.
“Yes, I understand,” I said.
“That’s better,” he said. “I like it so much better when two men can have a nice conversation.”
My phone beeped. I smiled politely and removed it from my jacket pocket.
“Isn’t that sweet,” I said aloud. “Someone sent me a picture of us.”
I rotated the phone so the mayor could see the screen. On it was a picture of me being escorted into the town car by mook number one.
Mayor Carmile frowned. I made a note to give Barry another fifty.
“You would like a contribution,” I said.
“Since you are offering it freely,” He said.
“Of course,” I said with as much concern as I could muster. “This is completely my idea.”
I pulled out my wallet and pulled two hundred dollar bills free.
“I hope you find this helpful in your next election.”
“What’s this?” The mayor asked.
“It’s two hundred dollars,” I told him. I opened my wallet again and pulled out the remaining bill.
“I could make it two fifty, but that’s all I have.”
He took the money and shook his head. “I expected something of this nature Mr. Vaughn. Perhaps you an I will speak again later, after your little party.” he said. “How is it going?”
“The fund raiser? Fantastic. We’ve raised over seven thousand dollars so far. Hey, how would you like to make a short appearance. Just pop out and wave at everyone.”
Mayor Carmile rubbed the bills together between his thumb and index finger, clearly asking for another bribe.
I shook my head and smiled.
“I’m afraid the answer is no, Mr. Vaughn. But I’m sure I can persuade some of the staff from the police department to attend.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I think Detective Steiner playing Santa is enough. Maybe a visit from the fire department?”
“No, Mr. Vaughn. I think Detective Steiner will need to have a little back up.”
We were back at the parking lot and I looked out my heavily tinted window towards the sledding hill. A crowd was gathering in front of a specially designed stage – one with a row of powerful heaters all around it.
“Oh look,” I told the mayor. “They’re just about to pick the winter princess. You should watch. I think you might know one of the contestants.”
I climbed out of the car and walked towards the stage, knowing that the Mayor was standing by his car now, staring up at the stage where four girls walked slowly and seductively back and forth. The reason for the heaters was plain. The girls were dressed in nothing but bikinis and high heeled shoes. I knew that there was a lively business in side-bets going on, so did the mayor. He could taste it. He just couldn’t go near it. The events on the stage was political kryptonite. As I approached the stage I took the microphone and the crown and began to make my way back and forth behind the girls, holding the crown over the head of each young girl to the cheers of the crowd. Finally, after the masses were screaming, I dropped the crown onto a nubile young lady who responded in a fawning hug that did my ego much good.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” I said into the mike. “Please congratulate our new winter princess – Miss Melissa Carmile.”
There would be no visits from the police this year. The Lincoln slowly drove out of the lot and into the suburban landscape.
It’s good to help people.
Hi there
Episode 12 is finished and I am taking a little break to get ready for Episode 13. Lots of outlining and plotting to do. Fear Not, Violet and Laurel will be back at it in late January slugging through another adventure. Until then please enjoy some other stories from New Robbins Valley.
Have a happy holiday.
Rick
Laurel sat out on the front steps of her house, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she rocked back and forth.
The robot looked so much like a frightened little girl that Violet wanted to sit down next to her and hold her before a wave of nausea washed over her. She shook her head and walked up to the steps.
“You all right?” she asked.
“They came in. They grabbed me. They tried to get me outside.”
“From Blue G?”
Laurel nodded.
Tim appeared next to Laurel. “There were six guys in jump suits.”
“Uzis?”
Tim shook his head. “Naw. These guys were pros. Only one mook had a gun. A Glock nine. The rest had night sticks.”
“A Glock. That’s good,” said Violet.
“Why is that good?” asked the ghost.
“Because,” said Laurel with a deep sigh. “If they brought a real gun along that means they don’t know if I’m still normal.”
“So you could change back?” asked Tim.
Laurel looked up at her partner. Violet nodded.
“Now all we need to know is how to turn you back on.”
Laurel smiled then stood up.
“Best fucking news I’ve heard all day.”
Violet rolled her eyes.
“You’d better come with me,” she told Laurel.
“Did you find my alien?”
The trio turned around to see Lynda standing behind Violet and sipping coffee from a cardboard cup.
“Would it kill you to walk up like a normal person?” asked Laurel.
Lynda smiled. “But then I’d miss those precious expressions.” She turned to Violet. “Did you find it?”
“Yes and I was just about to contact you with the news.”
“It’s good I hope?”
“Excuse me?” asked Violet.
“The news, dear. I hope it’s good.”
Violet smiled a cautiously benign smile.
“The news is good. We can all take Laurel’s car down to the marsh.”
Violet lead the trio to the galaxie and opened the door. When she turned back Lynda was gone. Laurel shrugged.
“Didn’t want her in my car anyway.”
Laurel got in on the passenger side. She spoke to the Galaxie.
“Ana. Wake up.”
The car started and the radio clicked on. The opening notes of The Pixie’s ‘Caribou’ blared through the speakers.
Violet climbed in behind the wheel and closed the door. She gripped the hard plastic and tugged the wheel to the left but it wouldn’t turn.
“Laurel, tell your car that I am quite capable of ripping this steering wheel out and throwing it through the window. “
The car’s doors locked and it pulled away from the curb heading down Independence toward the marsh.
Laurel smiled. “I think she’d prefer to drive herself.”
Violet pulled her hands off the wheel and dropped them into her lap.
“At least it drives better than Ned.”
A few moment later the car pulled up at the curb at the side of the marsh. Ned and his ninjas, fully clothed once more, climbed into the white ninja van.. The men glared at Violet as she passed.
“What are they so pissed about?” asked Laurel.
Violet shrugged and examined her chipped nail.
Lynda walked out from behind the Ninja Van and joined the women.
“It never left the marsh?” she asked. “And it’s still alive? Not very inquisitive.”
“I don’t think it was supposed to be here,” suggested Violet. “I think it made an emergency landing.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It can’t speak.”
“How did you speak with it?”
“Blinking.”
“Ah, some things are truly universal.”
They entered the woods and Violet began calling out.
“Hey! Move something so we can see where you are.”
A tree branch waggled high above their heads. Violet and Lynda approached the trunk of the tall oak.
“There’s no eye here.” Laurel noted. “How are we communicating with Alf?”
An acorn dropped down on Laurel’s head.
“Fucking alien,” she snarled.
“Doesn’t look like he’s having any trouble communicating.”
“Is this how you found it?” asked Lynda. The leprechaun glared at Violet
“Sure,” Violet lied. “Just like this. What do you want to ask it?”
“Can you move?” Lynda asked.
A single branch waved twice.
“Seems counterintuitive,” Lynda said. She stepped nimbly to the side just as another acorn dropped from on high, landing with a thud in the soft black dirt.
“Petulance is very unbecoming to an ambassador.” she told the tree. “Perhaps you’d like to change shapes again so we might talk.”
Now it was Violet’s turn to to side-step an acorn which she did without taking any notice to the threat.
Lynda looked at her, one eyebrow cocked.
“You seem rather sedate, Violet,” she said. “Something on your mind?”
“Laurel needs help,” she told Lynda. “She needs protection until she can be fixed.”
“Seems as though that would be your department.”
“I can’t protect her from Blue G and do my job. She needs to be fixed.”
“And our discussion earlier? Aren’t you afraid T&T would ‘dissect’ her?”
Violet looked at Laurel who stood motionless scowling up at the tree-alien. She turned back to Lynda.
“Better the devil you know.”
Lynda nodded. “I can have a car sent over as soon as we finish here.”
Violet understood and whistled to the tree.
“This lady wants to take you somewhere and examine you. Please change into something portable so you can travel.”
A shower of acorns fell around Violet as an answer. She leaped out of the way with the agility of a cat.
“Or we can cut you into lengths and use you to build a deck.”
The tree shook and melted becoming a large naked man. Violet looked at him approvingly. Lynda snorted. “Very impressive. However it does tend to point out a weakness in your research methods.”
The alien looked at Lynda with a human expression of consternation. Lynda smiled. “There is more on the internet than porn,” she told him.
The big alien blushed and clothes appeared. The four began walking out of the marsh and Lynda passed her hand behind her back and produced the pink phone. She punched some text into it and five minutes later a pair of Lincoln town cars pulled up at the curb. The alien was escorted to one car.
“Shall we go?” asked Linda.
“I’ll take Ana,” Laurel said.
“Sweetie,” Violet told her. “Ana can get herself home.”
The Galaxie heard Violet. It roared to life and rolled away towards Laurel’s house.
Laurel held her head down and walked solemnly to to remaining town car. In the west, beyond highway 169 the sun was beginning to go down. Violet looked out beyond the ridge formed by the highway to the sherbert-colored clouds beyond.
“If it’s all the same to you, Lynda, I don’t think I’ll be taking any more jobs from T&T for a while.”
The leprechaun nodded and walked towards the car. Laurel was already ensconced in the soft leather seat. She lifted one of the bottles out of the bar to read the label and looked up at Lynda as the leprechaun climbed into the car.
“I thought you always traveled by magic, or whatever.”
“And miss out on a trip with a traveling bar? I think not!”
Lynda reached to the bar pulled out a tall glass and a bottle of Jameson. She poured the glass half full and passed it to Laurel who replaced her bottle. Lynda took the open bottle up by the neck and drank deeply. When she was finished she looked over at Laurel still holding her untouched glass and staring wide-eyed at Lynda.
“Drink up, Laurel. It’s a long drive to Two Harbors.”
Violet climbed in and sat next to Laurel across from Lynda.
“We’re not driving all the way up there, are we?” she asked.
“No. A jet is waiting for us at Humphrey terminal.” She toasted Violet with the bottle. “I only thought this trip would serve as an ice breaker to what will surely be a very long night for me.”
“Are you suggesting that you may be in trouble?” asked Violet with an audible undertone of glee.
Lynda smiled and toasted the blond with her Jameson bottle.
“It may come as a surprise but I had to use considerable favors to get Laurel up to the Gooseberry Falls facility. It may just have cost me my career.”
“There are other jobs,” Violet told her.
“Were there other jobs when you stopped being Skyway? When you stopped….” Lynda paused.
“Killing people?” Violet said. “No, just work.”
“Case in point.”
The leprechaun took another swallow of whiskey followed by a satisfied sigh. “But while I am still employed I shall enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
The town car rolled away from the curb and Violet pulled a bottle of scotch and a glass from the bar. She poured in three fingers of the amber liquid and held her glass up before Laurel.
“To another job done.”
Laurel clinked her glass against Violet’s and then stared into it as her partner drank off half of hers.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.
“Drink it. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Laurel took a swallow and made a face.
“Tastes horrible.”
“That is often the case with medicine,” said Lynda. “The cure is often a bitter pill.”
“What are we curing?” asked the robot.
“Life,” answered Lynda, “and all of its associated ills.”
Laurel looked puzzled.
“It makes you feel good,” said Violet.
“It just makes me feel warm,” said Laurel.
“Warm?” asked Violet.
“Warm and a little – light.”
“They really did a job on you,” Violet told her.
“I believe you are becoming buzzed,” Lynda said. “Have some more.”
Laurel took another drink. She smiled. Violet nodded.
“Welcome to the human race,” she said
Laurel hiccuped.
Violet pulled up behind Ned’s white van. The van’s back doors were chained back on in a so that one door overlapped the other leaving a visible gap. Violet smiled to herself and climbed out of the Galaxie. Ned and three other ninjas stood among the chest-high reeds of the marsh. Flies and gnats buzzed around their heads but the four men seemed unperturbed beneath their hoods. They searched the water, stabbing the bottom with long metal poles.
“What are those supposed to do?” Violet asked.
“We’re going on the assumption that the alien is in the water,” Ned answered.
“And dead as well,” said Violet.
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“So an alien,” continued Violet, ” who was able to travel light-years across open space for who knows how many decades crashes his spaceship on this planet, is able to crawl out and then falls over, dead?”
“Er, yeah,” said Ned.
“Pretty convenient. Too bad he left the big neon arrow in his other pants.”
Ned stopped poking. “What’s your suggestion?”
“I don’t think anyone would just show up without some research. Perhaps we should look for a trail.”
The ninjas looked at Ned who leaned on his pole causing it to sink into the ground and Ned to list further and further to the left.
“This is going to take forever,” Ned said.
“How hard could it be to find an alien?” Violet asked him. “Start looking for trails out of the marsh.”
Half an hour later Ned stood on the bank of the marsh while Violet examined a patch of slightly bent grass below her.
“Rabbit,” said Violet.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Unlike you I know what rabbit turds look like.”
“Then that’s all of it. We’ve gone over every inch of ground around this place and there is no trace of anything leaving except animals and an incontinent bum. Should we go back to the poles or do you have another idea?”
“Don’t be an ass, Ned. It’s very unbecoming.”
The other ninjas snickered.
“The alien is still here and alive. I know it.”
“How?” asked Ned.
“It didn’t leave and it didn’t die. I can feel it. It’s still around.”
“So you had us search this cesspool because…?”
Violet looked out across the reeds. The coffee colored tips teased her shoulders as the grass sighed back and forth with the afternoon breeze.
“Because when everything possible has been eliminated whatever is left….”
Ned cut her off. “Thank you Sherlock fucking Holmes. If it’s still here then it’s dead. My guys and I will find it with the poles.”
Ned and his men waded back into the reeds to begin again. Violet stood on the grassy bank and stared into the woods on the far side.
“Lovely, dark and deep,” she said to herself. “but miles to go before I sleep.”
Violet began walking around the perimeter of the marsh, tying on her yellow bandanna as she went.
“Where are you going?” Ned asked.
“Somethings are universal. I’m going into the woods to look for a tree.”
“Don’t mind us. We’ll be here in the … water.”
Violet continued on into the woods ignoring Ned.
A sudden silence descended on Violet as soon as she crossed into the wood. The late afternoon sun filtered down through the green summer leaves and made the breathless heat a timeless moment. Violet glanced up and spied a robin in the branches of a swamp maple. On a hunch she held her hand up to the bird. The bird was high up and hidden by the wide green leaves of the tree. As she watched the robin hopped down onto the the next lower branch. She watched it hop from there to the next lower branch and down and down. The bird never left the tree nor did it ever stop on its way down to the lowest branch. Violet held out her hand, held it up to the bird. When the bird reached the lowest branch in the tree it jumped onto her hand without a break. Violet lifted the bird to her face and looked into its beady, black eyes and it looked directly into hers.
“You do know that’s not the way birds behave, don’t you?”
The bird cocked its head and blinked its eyes twice.
“But you know the whole ‘blink once for yes’ thing.”
The bird blinked once.
“Here’s what you’re going to do. You will turn yourself into something large and immovable and I will tell my client that I have found you and we will let them decide what to do.”
The robin blinked twice. Instantly Violet closed her hand around the robin’s neck. The bird swelled and expanded like a balloon, changing color and shape until Violet was holding a five-foot long hooded cobra. The cobra struck at Violet’s arm but the fangs thudded audibly on her wrist. She squeezed the snake until it retracted it fangs and straightened up. As much as it was possible for a snake to look chagrined that snake did.
“Now that you’re finished I’d like for you to give my proposal a little thought. You have one minute.”
The snake blinked once.
“Fine. I will be back in about an hour and you will be a tree.”
The snake blinked twice
“You don’t want to be a tree?”
The snake blinked twice.
“Can you be a rock?”
The snake blinked twice.
“Then it looks as if you don’t have much choice. See you in an hour, toothpick.”
Violet dropped the snake to the ground. It transformed back into a robin before it hit and flew back into the tree it came from.
“One hour,” Violet shouted up at it.
Satisfied, Violet turned and walk back out of the woods. Ned and his ninjas were standing in waist deep water probing the muddy bottom of the marsh with long steel poles. On the far bank a translucent figure floated a few feet above the tall grass of the bank. Violet started towards it. The ninjas stopped when Violet appeared.
“Did you find it?” Ned asked.
“Yep. You guys can go home now,” she said hastily.
“Is it alive?”
“Yep.”
“And you knew it was in there the whole time?”
“Well not the whole time.” Violet continued past Ned.
“And you just wanted us to wade around in this muck because…?”
Violet stopped, turned back around to Ned and smiled a very wicked grin at the ninja.
“‘Leech infested’ muck,” she corrected.
She left the troupe franticly stripping off their clothing and slapping the engorged leeches from their skin and climbed up to Tim.
“She in trouble?” Violet asked.
“Worse. someone broke in and tried to kidnap her. I scared them off but Laurel locked herself in the closet.”
Violet walked to the Galaxie, climbed in and sped off.
Tim floated above the bank watching the ninjas.
“Makes me glad I don’t have a body.”
Violet fished key out of her backpack and opened up the Galaxie.
“Where did you get that key?” Laurel asked. “This is my car.”
“Watch your head, sweetie,” Violet told her.
Laurel stuck her tongue out at her partner then whispered something to the car mirror and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
“Ana will never let you drive her.”
Violet gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. “Would you please tell your car to let me start it?”
Laurel smiled. “Ana, please let the poor girl drive you.”
A female voice with a southern California twang came through the speakers.
“Laurel,” said Ana. “Do you want me to let her drive me from now on?”
“Not a chance,” Laurel told her. “Just for today.”
“Thanks,” said Violet. She started the car and drove off towards Laurel’s house just a few blocks away.
“What are we going to do?”
“We are dropping you at your house and then Ned and I are are meeting up back at the marsh to look for the alien.”
“No, I mean what are we going to do about my problem. What are we going to do about me?”
“I don’t know what to do,” said Violet. “Do you want to go back to Blue G and beat up that creepy German guy? Maybe he can switch your body back.”
“I don’t think he can help. I think he’s just some nut-case researcher. I don’t even know why he was there.”
Violet nodded. “In that case I’m sorry, dear, but your problem will keep. I’ve got an alien to track down.”
“But what about me?” Laurel whined. Violet did answer and Laurel pouted and stared out the passenger window.
Violet drove up to the house and parked at the curb. The two got out and walked to the door.
The sun shone down on the yellow clapboards of the house. Laurel stopped at the door and leaned her forehead against the warm red door.
“I am so tired,” she told Violet. “I’ve never been tired before.”
“How do you know you’re tired?”
Laurel shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Violet reached past the robot and opened the door. They went inside. Laurel flopped down on a boxy grey couch.
“Tim.” Violet shouted. The name reverberated through the house.
“Your imaginary friend?” Laurel asked. “What the hell is he gonna do, rustle the drapes until people get bored?”
“He’s a ghost, not invisible. We’ve been all through this.”
Tim appeared by walking into the room through the kitchen door. He had disheveled brown hair and as tall as Violet’s shoulder and except that the slanting afternoon light streaming in through the front window continued streaming right through him he looked just like a thirty year old man in an untucked red polo shirt and khakis.
“I need you to keep an eye on Laurel,” Violet told him. “She’s lost all her abilities.”
Tim looked over at Laurel who was rolling into a light sleep. Tim turned back to face Violet. A broad, fake smilem spread across his face.
“Yay,” said the ghost. “Babysitting.”
“What are you complaining about?” asked Violet.
“I’m dead, Violet. That doesn’t mean I don’t have a life.”
Laurel woke from her sleep and looked over at at Tim.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“It’s me, Tim.” the ghost told her.
Laurel sat up. Her eyes were wide with shock. “You’re Tim? Violet, I’ve never seen him before.”
Violet tilted her head to the side like a curious child.
“You’re still a robot,” Violet told Laurel. That hasn’t changed. Why can you see him now?”
“Wow, you’re not half as ugly as I thought you were.” Laurel told Tim. “No offence, Tim”
Tim sighed and licked his lips and turned to Violet. “You’d better go. I’d hate to have you get stuck out in the mud after dark with no one to suddenly appear and save you. That would suck.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Violet said with a smile. “I know how much you hate sitting here doing nothing. Remember to get me if you think Violet needs help.”
Tim looked at Laurel and then back at Violet.
“She can see me. Robots can’t see ghosts. I think she needs more help than I can give her.”
“Sweetie, I don’t expect you to help her. I expect you to come and get me so I can help her.”
Violet turned and walked out the front door leaving Tim alone with Laurel.
“You know,” said Laurel. “I always knew Violet was talking to someone in here but I always half believed she was talking to herself.”
Tim smiled at the robot. “Most of the time she was.”
The waitress stood next to the booth and stared at Laurel. Her eyebrow hoop worked up and down as she tried to puzzle out what was going on.
“Something is different about you,” she told Laurel.
Laurel had laid her head on the table with her arms around it. She looked up at the puzzled waitress, tear streaks staining her face. “I’m sorry?” she said.
The waitress gasped. “Oh my….” But stopped herself. “Do you want any c-coffee?” she asked.
Laurel looked over at Violet, wide-eyed with fear. Violet saw Laurel’s face, closed her eyes and let out a slow, deep sigh. She turned to the waitress.
“Yes, she would like to have some coffee. I would like to have a beer.”
“Oh, we don’t serve beer here. You know that,” replied the waitress with a big, condescending smile.
Violet passed a hand behind her back and produced a can of Hamm’s beer. She set it on the table and opened it with a soft ‘pffst’. The waitress’s smile dropped and she began to protest as the yeasty smell wafted across the table. Violet held up a single finger.
“I am quite aware of what you serve,” she said to the waitress. “This is what I am drinking. Please bring coffee.”
“I’d like to have a turkey sandwich and a LaCroix lemon, please,” chimed in Ned.
The Waitress wrote something on her pad and walked away.
Violet took a deep pull from the Hamm’s, put the can down and reached over to Laurel, taking the robot’s hand in her own.
“Sweetie, you can’t let this get to you. There is nothing wrong with you. You just lost your powers, that’s all.”
“But I’m normal,” Laurel protested.
“Yes, normal. But there is nothing wrong with you.”
“I’m normal,” interjected Ned. “I do lots of stuff.”
Laurel and Violet both looked over at Ned. Laurel broke into fresh sobs and Violet glared at him.
“What?” asked the ninja.
“Shut up, Ned,” Violet told him.
“Yes, please keep quiet Ned. This is a delicate matter.”
The voice came from Ned’s right side which had been vacant until then. Ned jumped.
“Lynda, where did you come from?” he asked.
“I’ve…”
“Always been here,” Violet finished. “Yes. Why are you here now?”
Lynda looked shocked, a look that stretch the credulity of everyone at the table.
“I wanted to see how Laurel was doing and see if there was anything T&T could do to help,” the leprechaun said.
“Does that include bringing her back to the lab all defenseless and weak to take her apart and study her? ‘Cause I think someone already beat you to that.”
“Violet!” Lynda said. “I am appalled at this sort of treatment. T&T wants to see its top operative restored to full functionality as much as you do.”
She emphasized ‘top operative’ while staring intently into Violet’s eyes.
The waitress returned with coffee for Laurel and a sandwich for Ned. “Is there anything else?” she asked.
Ned examined his sandwich. “This is ham,” he said, “I asked for turkey, and I wanted a LaCroix lemon. This is Seven-Up.”
Everyone ignored Ned, which aggravated him
“I’d like a cup of tea,” said Lynda.
“You didn’t pay for the last one,” Violet reminded her.
“My dear, I left money. How should I know what happened to it.”
Violet was quickly losing her temper and fought to keep control. She lifted the beer can to her lips and chugged down the entire contents crushing the can afterwards. Violet did not stop at simply collapsing the can inward from the side but took it in both hands and compressed it like a wad of paper. What was left when she was finished was a white-and-blue sphere about the size of a small gumball. Violet set the sphere on the table and flicked it so that it rolled towards Lynda but stopped just before falling off the table.
“Bring Lynda whatever she wants,” she told the waitress. “It’s on my tab.”
The waitress walked back towards the kitchen.
“What about my food?” Ned shouted after her.
People in the restaurant turned to look at Ned.
“Ned, please don’t make a scene,” Violet told him. “People are staring.”
Ned looked around and then slumped back into the booth. He picked at his food and took a sip of pop.
“The other reason I am here,” said Lynda, “Is to remind you both that someone needs to return to the site and attempt to find my alien. T&T is becoming impatient. My supervisor asked about this twice.”
“And what?” asked Violet. “On the third time they feed you to fluffy? You’re a leprechaun for Christ’s sake.”
“Let’s just say that where T&T is concerned the third time is not the charm.”
“I’m sorry you’re having problems at work. However, let me remind you that had you left Ned out of this Laurel would still have her abilities and we would be searching for this thing right now.”
“I had no control over Ned’s actions and I certainly didn’t urge him to attack you. Besides there is no clause in our contract prohibiting T&T from hiring additional consultants to work on the case.”
“It’s still your fault,” Violet said.
“T&T will not accept fault in this.” Lynda looked down into her steaming tea as if trying to see the future in its murky depths. “However at the completion of this case we would like to transport both you and Laurel to our advanced research facility and find out if she can be restored.”
“You mean take her apart, don’t you,” asked Violet.
“T&T would require working knowledge of Laurel’s systems, either directly or through some sort of schematic.”
“Blue G had a schematic,” said Laurel. “Could we get theirs?”
“That would mean breaking back in,” Violet reminded her. “It didn’t go so well last time.”
“I could try to break in and find the plans. I’m pretty good at that.”
All three women stared at Ned.
“What!” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” said Violet. “It’s almost as if the author actually planned that out ahead of time.”
“You mean you don’t want me to go?”
Lynda chuckled. “I think sending you in might not be such a good idea, Ned.”
“Why not? I’ve done it hundreds of times.”
“Yes, but not ‘in story’. If you were to after the schematic as part of the plot something funny would happen, but you’d never get the plans.”
A phone rang and instinctively Ned, Violet and Lynda reached for their phoned.
“That’s me,” Lynda said. She produced her pink phone and held it out to Ned.
“It’s for you, dear.”
Ned took the phone as if it were coated in snail pee and read the display.
“Who’s ‘R H’?” he asked.
“Just read it,” Lynda told him.
“I’ve already plotted out chapter thirteen,” he read aloud, “and I don’t want to go back and redo it.”
“What does that mean?” he asked handing the phone back to Lynda.
“That means you don’t go and I do some detective work,” said Violet.
“What if I go anyway?”
Lynda’s phone chirped again.
“He says ‘Doberman. Sexual. Domination’.”
Lynda looked over at Ned and smiled.
“I wondered what that phone was for,” said Violet. “Kind of a cheap plot device, though.”
Lynda put the phone away and stood to go. Ned moved out of her way.
“T&T will not harm Laurel. you have my word on that,” the leprechaun said. “Besides, you don’t have a lot of choices, do you? Please find the alien today and report back to me as soon as you do. I will make arrangements for you to travel to the facility.”
Lynda walked out of the diner.
“I guess she’ll need a baby sitter.” Violet said.
“What did you have in mind?” Ned asked her.
“If I dropped her off at her house I bet I could get an old friend to look in on her.”
“You have friends?”
“Occupational hazard. This is actually one of your old pals. You remember Tim, don’t you?”
“The dead guy? You got his corpse on retainer?”
“He’s a ghost, Ned.”
“Tragic. Some mysterious compulsion is keeping him here on this mortal realm.”
“He was killed waiting in a laundromat. All he needs is a ticket for three shirts and two pairs of pants and he’s good to go.”
“And he just hangs around Laurel’s house?”
“It’s not like he gets a lot out of going to bars,” Violet told him.
“And what happens if someone takes an interest in her and decides it’s open season?”
“Then Tim comes and gets me and I beat the hell out of them.”
“How?”
“Tim just appears. That’s the way it works.”
“Casper the friendly ghost. Great. Must be a nice setup — guy on call twenty-four seven, never needs anything from you, doesn’t even want sex. Better than a slave.”
“He’s the gay friend I never had.”
She smiled at Ned. “Or not.”
Violet fished a wallet from her backpack and laid a twenty on the table then stood to go.
“You probably shouldn’t come with. He’s really not that friendly.”
Ned smiled. “He’s a ghost. What’s he going to do, scare me to death?”
“You’d be surprised,” Violet said.
