Tagged: tune in next time

The Black Velvet Room

  • by Kentwith a canine-skin collar
  • various scenarios with his colleagues
  • it would be a shining white box
  • –Don’t be modest
  • finally agreed to wear it

Tune in next time part 240                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The black velvet room, with its distressing noises and aromas, was breaking down my concentration, cutting me off from all my Academy training. I couldn’t even find my way out anymore. Confusion and panic rose in my head; it was like a toilet backing up.

My mind retreated from the awfulness of the present moment, and I was swept back into a memory from childhood. I sat on the floor in Father’s office, playing with John and Jason. We had Matchbox cars. Father presented his current mistress with a canine-skin collar, then sent her out and discussed various scenarios with his colleagues, debating the best way to deliver the next quarter’s bribes. Someone said they’d get the most bang for their buck if it would be a shining white box filled with gold coins.

“No, I have a better idea,” Father said, staring at me. “Son,” he said, “I have an important job for you. Tell me you’re prepared — Don’t be modest — tell me you can do it.”

Father spoke to me like that for an hour, browbeating me about acting as his mule. The colleagues left, and the mistress returned with the collar. She distracted Father from me, at last, when she finally agreed to wear it.

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Remembering Father’s Mistress in Her New Collar

  • by jenhe couldn’t rubberneck around
  • “Walk backwards toward me.”
  • a disgraced exotic beauty contestant is the best kind of exotic beauty contestant
  • mere will-o-the-wisps of the imagination
  • I’ll tell you a story about the joker and the thief

Tune in next time part 241                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Remembering Father’s mistress in her new collar was almost as bad as experiencing my present day reality. In that memory he turned to me and said that the best part about the collar was that when she was wearing it she couldn’t rubberneck around.

Turning his attention back to the woman he said, “Walk backwards toward me.”

While she did that he winked at me, and imparted what he considered to be paternal wisdom: “Never forget, son, a disgraced exotic beauty contestant is the best kind of exotic beauty contestant.”

But the collared beauty queen and that younger version of my father were mere will-o-the-wisps of the imagination, memories of a childhood that seemed idyllic now in light of my current sordid surroundings.

From the black velvet bed, my father called my name. When I reflexively looked at him, he met my eye and said, “I’ll tell you a story about the joker and the thief.”

I was stunned. Those were the affectionate pet names he used for John and Tessa. Was he going to actually pass along useful covert intelligence? Even though I had finally found the exit from the black velvet nightmare, I dared not leave before hearing what he had to say.

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I Froze, Waiting

  • by Kentpull the blinds and change their minds
  • his hair is not his own
  • with his back to the wall
  • one strange similarity
  • “I say no!”

Tune in next time part 242                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

I froze, waiting for him to elaborate and keeping my hand on the seam in the curtains so I wouldn’t have to start that search over again. Father’s face floated peacefully above the swirling tangle of femininity engulfing the rest of him. He spoke clearly, if somewhat breathlessly.

“Those two were set on desertion, so your mother had to pull the blinds and change their minds. She went a little rough on them, which had permanent effects on the joker — his hair is not his own. Your mother gets carried away sometimes. She gave that joker such a fright, had him cornered with his back to the wall, and then the thief distracted her just long enough for them both to run back to their dormitory. They didn’t flee the Academy that night, but don’t you wonder why? Wouldn’t that encounter make them all the more anxious to get away? Yet they stayed, and their doings in the next few years had more than one strange similarity to sedition. So many mysterious acts of sabotage and disrespect, all officially unsolved but clearly their work. And, you were their companion, their confidant. It might seem odd that these old events still get dredged up, but they’re the key to everything that’s happened since. And to stopping what’s due to happen next. Don’t you agree that it’s time for us to work together?”

My hands had tightened into fists, and the curtain quaked in my grip.

“I say no!”

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With Father Doling Out His Affections

  • by jento all a good night
  • a little round belly
  • then in a twinkling
  • for a long winter’s nap
  • and a twist of his head

Tune in next time part 243                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

With Father doling out his affections to all, a good night‘s sleep surely awaited him. But not me. I couldn’t get the images out of my head. Whenever my eyes closed I saw a little round belly covered by far, far too much wiry hair, and other things that I shudder to put into words. There was no way I could ally myself with a man who thought it was appropriate to engage in group sex in front of his son.

I pulled back the black velvet drapery panel and opened the door, and then, in a twinkling, radiant burst, the outside light flooded the room and nearly blinded me. It was a relief not to have to see the debauchery anymore. What I wouldn’t give for a father who would spend his days curled up on a sofa for a long winter’s nap, or watching game shows. Basically anything besides treason and exhibitionism.

In the corridor I surprised a ninja. A quick kick to his gut and a twist of his head put him out of commission for good. As I stood over him, listening in vain for his compatriots, I wondered if he worked for Father and the Svenborgian sisters, or if he was here on assignment. I decided I should get the hell out of there before anyone showed up to answer my question.

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The Corridor Took Me to a Stairwell

  • by KentHis cheeks were like roses
  • I had nothing to dread
  • he held tight in his teeth
  • he was chubby and plump
  • the prancing and pawing

Tune in next time part 244                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The corridor took me to a stairwell. I went up.

On the third landing I encountered another ninja. His cheeks were like roses and his fists were like mittens filled with mashed potatoes. He punched me ineffectually a few times and then I flung him down the steps, confident I had nothing to dread from him or any of his compatriots.

I left the stairwell at ground level, finding another corridor. Up ahead I spied another ninja. He was posing as a drinking fountain, crouching and spraying water from a nozzle he held tight in his teeth. He was chubby and plump, and was spraying water continuously even though no one was there to get a drink, which would have tipped anyone off that something was amiss. I plugged his nozzle with my fingertip, then carried on down the passage while he gagged and spluttered.

These were the worst ninjas I had ever met.

And, this was one of the longest, most monotonous hallways. I glanced back, and stumbled, catching myself against the wall. Behind me, rather than a long, straight passageway, there was a tee intersection. I turned to face the way I’d been heading, and gasped. The corridor now sported a 90-degree left turn about ten feet ahead of me.

Suddenly I found myself in a maze. Strange sounds reached me, echoing around the corners. I held my breath to listen, closed my eyes to shut out distraction so I could identify the noises. I kept them shut, trying to gauge the size of whatever it was that was making the prancing and pawing sounds.

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Before My Mind Melted Completely

  • by jenbetween the invisible man and the tramp
  • in response to the touching of tiny buttons
  • as if they were his own
  • I don’t know whether Stephanie
  • started pointing fingers

Tune in next time part 245                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Before my mind melted completely I managed one coherent thought: those ninjas must have been covered in some sort of contact hallucinogen. I’d foolishly fallen right into their trap. The walls around me rippled like water.

When I came back to my senses I was bound hand and foot, and a good deal of drool was leaking from my mouth onto the floor where I lay. I seemed to be in the back of a van. There were two people in the seats up front. I kept my eyes closed and listened to their conversation.

“We’ll be lucky to get the full bounty on this asshole,” the driver said. He had a gravelly voice and a Contrarian accent. “And our expenses are through the roof. I mean, between the invisible man and the trampoline he bounced in on, we’ll be lucky to break even. That guy doesn’t come cheap.”

Who were these guys? I cracked my eyelids open and watched the portly guy in the passenger seat lean forward to fiddle with the radio. In response to the touching of tiny buttons, the vehicle filled with Contrarian hip hop. Portly guy knew his way around the sound system controls as if they were his own, suggesting that this van was not a rental.

Portly cranked the volume, and we drove on for hours. The music and the accents suggested my captors were working for Fleur. Or maybe her warlord father. I wasn’t sure which idea scared me more.

Much to my surprise, though, when the van stopped and the doors opened, I found myself face-to-face with Viscount Arlo. He looked at me with his one eye, and sniffed. “I don’t know whether Stephanie forgot to mention,” he said in his precise Svenborgian cadences, “or whether you’re utterly incompetent, but I wanted both him and Jason.”

The driver and Portly immediately started pointing fingers at each other, making excuses for their failure.

Arlo turned to me and sniffed again. He ran one hand back over his bald head. “I’ve been enjoying your wife’s company ever so much,” he said. “She’s currently my favorite lover. Would you like to see some pictures?”

That guy is such a dick.

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Viscount Arlo Dispatched His Henchmen

  • by KentWhere were you when I needed you?
  • ugly ghosts from the past
  • followed after him in a wild mob
  • hardened crystalline structure
  • You knew this was inevitable

Tune in next time part 246                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Viscount Arlo dispatched his henchmen to go after Jason. When the van left, he turned back to me.

“You knew this was inevitable,” he said. His sneering accent made me want to punch him, but he wasn’t stupid enough to uncuff me. He droned about being the one responsible for all my hardships, a monologue I ignored as soon as it became clear that he had all the facts wrong.

I looked past him, at the strange building like a hardened crystalline structure of some milky, waxy substance. It had to be his lair. I wondered if it was as fragile and unstable as it looked, or if it would offer him protection if all the people he wronged ever followed after him in a wild mob, if ugly ghosts from the past would be thwarted by its opalescent faceted walls.

Suddenly, Arlo’s insufferable monotone stopped. He slumped from the waist, revealing Tessa standing behind him, holding him up by his belt. I smiled, but she didn’t smile back.

Her lips curled in a snarl as she let Arlo finish collapsing to the ground. She swatted a tear from her cheek and cried, “Where were you when I needed you?”

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“Where Was I, Tessa?”

  • by jenit was an accusation
  • a sort of swinging pocket
  • Six hours after injection
  • grandmother is calling me a “home-wrecker”
  • There was one reason.

Tune in next time part 247                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Where was I, Tessa?” I could hardly believe her. “Where was I? Where were you?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked.

“It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation. You were so busy fucking around with John I bet you don’t even know that Tallulah is on the loose.”

“You think my mission with John is just ‘fucking around’? Like I’m in a sort of swinging pocket of 70s hedonism while you’re out there saving the world all by yourself?” She sounded furious and her tears had stopped.

I didn’t want to fight with her, but lately fighting was all I knew. “You gonna let me out of these handcuffs?”

“Six hours after injection,” she said, brandishing a syringe. “By then we’ll be safely at our destination.”

I flinched away from her. Could I make it into the Viscount’s wacky crystal castle? Surely he had handcuff keys in there somewhere. Or at the very least a hacksaw.

“Don’t even try it,” Tessa said. “You know how your grandmother is calling me a ‘home-wrecker’ all the time? Well, I finally decided to live up to the name.” She held up a little remote control and pressed the button.

Viscount Arlo’s architectural wonder exploded in a fireball of molten plastic and toxic black smoke.

I couldn’t think of any reason Tessa would do that.

Well, that’s not true.

There was one reason.

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“Tessa,” I Said Soothingly

  • by Kentnursing a glass of hooch
  • handed the wad of cash to the wrong person
  • feelings of such deep emotion
  • the reunions didn’t go well
  • mother’s favorite bracelet

Tune in next time part 248                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Tessa,” I said soothingly. “You don’t need to knock me out. I’ll keep the cuffs on, if that’s how you want to play it.”

She slid her bottom lip to the side and lowered her eyelids at me, a look that really would have seemed more natural if she were nursing a glass of hooch on the veranda at some big society cotillion. Which was probably deliberate, meant to remind me that it was I who handed the wad of cash to the wrong person in our Academy graduation project. But I was also the one who got it back, and we had such fun spending it later.

All my memories from that period carried feelings of such deep emotion, but none more than the clock tower. It had been my job to trigger the detonator, and Tessa’s to plant the charges. I missed her signal when she got clear, so I thought she was still inside. Which was why I didn’t press the button. Instead of a boom, our enemies heard their tacky carillon tolling noon atop its hideously modern tower. Tessa vowed to go back and finish the demolition someday, but never got around to it. Arlo’s weird structure was just a proxy.

“You really don’t get it,” she said. Any sense of playfulness had again left her face. “You think I have a choice.”

“Of course you do.”

“The committee was quite explicit.”

Oh, shit. Our 20-year Academy reunion was coming up. In general, the reunions didn’t go well. Casualties tended to run close to 20%, and usually at least one government was toppled. What committee had recruited Tessa? I spotted an important clue on her wrist: Mother’s favorite bracelet.

But she was too quick with the hypodermic, and I didn’t have time to draw any conclusions.

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I Came To in the Subbasement

  • by jenwhy no one sees the dinosaur bones
  • burned down a giant goat
  • the redheaded streetwalker coughing next to him
  • skintight orange jumpsuit
  • under the root cellar

Tune in next time part 249                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

I came to in the subbasement under the root cellar of the Academy, a place I’d hoped to never see again. I focused my bleary eyes on the three figures standing over me. One was Tessa, one was John in a skintight orange jumpsuit, and the third looked like a cheap hooker who time-traveled from 1970s Times Square, her face hidden behind a huge cloud of noxious cigarette smoke.

John smirked when he saw that I was awake. He turned to the redheaded streetwalker coughing next to him and said, “You’re up.”

She waved a hand, driving the smoke away, and I saw the last face I expected.

“Hipster Jane,” I said, keeping the surprise from my voice. “I haven’t seen you since the two of us burned down a giant goat at that music festival you organized.” Truth be told, I’d assumed she burned up with the goat.

“It’s a travesty that Burning Goat never took off while so many other festivals are so fucking popular. I had the best, most obscure upcoming bands that no one had ever heard of! I don’t know why no one sees the dinosaur bones that play those other festivals for what they are – obsolete and boring. Why does anyone want to see the same bands over and over again?”

My plan was working. If you got Hipster Jane talking about music, she forgot about everything else.

“You’re getting off topic,” said John.

Damn.

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