Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Mover - Part 2

They had a walk in freezer.  It was almost empty which I thought of as a "good thing - bad thing."  Good because there was room for the lads. Bad because I knew business at Enrico's was slow but but I hadn't realized how slow.  If they went out of business my dining choices would become severely diminished in this area. As in zero.

There was still a McDonald's open across the street but I wasn't a McDonald's type of guy. Not because it was corporate slop that had been packaged as food and was slightly more healthy than eating roadkill off the highway in August.  I didn't eat it because it made me constipated.  Otherwise, if I was short of money and hungry I would eat there. There is a big difference between being some kind of foodie elitist who would eat owl shit if it was certified organic but would never touch a Big Mac and me. I would eat roadkill if it was my only choice in a heartbeat. Hell, I would eat a foodie if I had too. You did what you had to do and looked for payback when you got a chance.

I left Stepfather staring at the freezer in the kitchen and went out to see if Anna had finished policing the area.  She had and was sitting in the next booth over looking a little stunned and rubbing her back.  I checked the booth and carpeting around it. It was clean. These kind of incidents rarely are.  Once you rupture the human container you end up with an amazing amount of fluids all over the place.  I looked myself over. A spot of chicken grease on my shirt was it.  Yep. Not bad at all.

"You okay Anna?" I asked her.

She looked up at me. The thick black hair that she usually wore pinned back had come loose and she brushed it out of her face.  "Yeah. I'm fine." She hesitated for a couple beats , then added "That was different."

I laughed and told her "Hell. The ways things are going that is the new normal." I had noticed  that she had set the handgun on the table with the badge next to it.  I picked it up, popped the magazine, racked the slide and caught the round that ejected as it arced through air.  I took a quick look at the gun. It was clean and had been taken care. A Ruger SR9. It had probably came from who ever had carried the badge.  I palmed the badge, inserted the round back into the magazine, and reloaded.  I safed it and handed it to her.  "Put this someplace like your purse. I'll be back in a couple days." She held the Ruger like it was an interesting archeological find from another planet. "We'll talk." I told her. Then I was gone.


  1. Oh that was so totally awesome! We'll talk. teeeheeheehehehehe.

    Loved the line about bursting the human container.

  2. rsj,that remark was true,people are bags of fluids that do not smell good fresh,let alone aged.

  3. Nova, it is so good to have my daily fix again! I was off for almost a whole week doing kid stuff, and when I came back it was to luxuriate in the new tale - an unexpected blessing! Thank you so much.

    Will you let us know how you enjoyed YOUR vacation, and what you liked best about it?

    Again, great to have my fix again!

  4. Some photos from your vacation would be great if you are up for it.

  5. Yeppers TomStone! Sacks of meat and various juices. It is bad even when the container is unbroken. Just ask my kids when I am done fermenting and tell a victim,i mean a child of course, to "pull my finger you will hear music!!"

  6. Girls need guns, just like they need a set of metric sockets and combo wrenches to keep the Tercel rolling along with the help of whatever mechanically-inclined man walks by. Of course, it's good to know how to use the little 9mm, as well as car-fixing tools, but sometimes just having them is enough.

    In cold weather, bodies don't smell like much. Warm weather stench makes up for that bit of grace.