Tagged: tune in next time

Not The Ipswich in England

  • k-avatar“The answer is easy,”
  • such a thing as sexually transmitted food poisoning
  • “Such, gentlemen, is my secret.”
  • “I demand satisfaction!”
  • then takes the form of a helicoidal or screw-shaped spiral

Tune In Next Time Part 51                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Not the Ipswich in England, though. The one in Massachusetts. Which was a good thing, because the dinky chopper would never have made a crossing and the directives of Dr Minka Stiletto were irresistible.

And, as it turned out, there wasn’t enough fuel even for the local hop I had to make. Unlike a plane, when a helicopter runs out of gas it doesn’t glide smoothly forward. It lurches and drops rapidly in a steep parabolic arc, which then takes the form of a helicoidal or screw-shaped spiral. The controls do little to influence this trajectory, but with finesse a skillful pilot can bring the craft to ground at a survivably slow rate of descent. My skills and my luck were barely adequate to the challenge, or perhaps the haze of the trance I’d entered upon hearing the implanted phrase kept me sufficiently relaxed to avoid injury.

Wandering the outskirts of Ipswich, Mass, I searched for Minka Stiletto’s clinic. Asking passersby got me only glares and hasty retreats. “I demand satisfaction!” I roared at a leathery fisherman, whose gap-toothed yodel of fright woke me from Dr Stiletto’s clutches for the moment. My clarified thoughts coalesced upon the realization that the foul doctor was known throughout Ipswich, known and feared. But not yet in total control.

“Bravo,” said a silky feminine voice behind me. My blood froze.

“But,” Dr Stiletto continued, “you misapprehend one thing. Yes, they fear me. But also yes, I do have total control. Now follow me. You too, Fred.” As the leathery fisherman fell into step beside me, and we both stumbled in Minka Stiletto’s rose-perfumed wake, she elaborated on her diabolical mastery of this quaint New England seaside town. “Such, gentlemen, is my secret.”

If she divulged any actual secret, I didn’t recall it.

Minka Stiletto raised her eyepatch to study me more closely. The experience made me wonder if there was such a thing as sexually transmitted food poisoning. I tried to hide my revulsion, hoping the fiendish doctor thought me still hypnotized.

“You’ll note that Ipswich, Mass is the cleanest town you’ve ever visited,” she singsonged, “and you might wonder why. Mightn’t you?” Fred nodded avidly, seeming to have a lot invested in learning how this fact could be true of the place he had no doubt lived for many decades. “The answer is easy,” Minka said, laughing. “She who controls the sanitation guilds controls all!”

Her amusement over this proclamation verged on incapacitating, but all the while she kept both eyes glued to me. This would not be my chance to escape. Perhaps if I played along I could learn something important. But would it be worth the risk?

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Fred Bound My Wrists

  • by jenattracted by the scent
  • resuscitating a knocked out fighter with a hand job
  • took you for granted
  • the nightmare that keeps on giving
  • ribbons of lavender

Tune In Next Time Part 52                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fred bound my wrists with ribbons of lavender and silver, at Dr Stiletto’s suggestion. They might look frilly and dainty, but the damn things were too tough for me to tear through, and cut into my skin.

Now that I was harmless, Minka moved close and stared into my eyes. I tried to make them glassy and vacant so that she wouldn’t guess her hold on my psyche had slipped. She smiled and laid her hand against my cheek, a vivid reminder that Minka Stiletto’s affections were the nightmare that keeps on giving. Years of therapy had rid me of the worst of the PTSD, but I could feel the memories crawling out of their dark holes once again to haunt me.

“I took you for granted last time,” she snarled into my ear. “A mistake I will not make again. You will quack like a duck for me whenever you hear a doorbell, and you will be my eager love slave when you hear me snap my fingers.”

She held her hand in front of my face and snapped, and the effect of her hypnotic power on my libido was like resuscitating a knocked out fighter with a hand job, if that’s not too graphic a metaphor.

Minka Stiletto arched one eyebrow at my very visible reaction to her words.

From every tree along the street, squirrels emerged from their hiding places and scurried toward us. Minka explained, “They’re attracted by the scent of your pheromones, darling boy.”

I thought about the sorts of things squirrels liked to eat and shuddered. Luckily for me only certain parts of my mind were under Minka’s control. I could still resist, plot her defeat and my escape from both her clutches and a rodenty fate.

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Minka Stiletto’s Office

  • k-avatarfull of arrows like Saint Sebastian
  • raised the banyans
  • but the green light’s not on yet
  • I like perfection
  • a little too organic

Tune In Next Time Part 53                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Minka Stiletto’s office had changed since my last visit. Under a vast glass roof, she inhabited a captive jungle filled with bizarre plants. Mounds of flat stones rose from the centers of several indoor ponds, water cascading over their terraced layers like champagne fountains. They raised the banyans that grew on their summits so the upper branches brushed the roof and the myriad aerial prop roots reached down and down into the mirrorlike surfaces of the ponds. Strange cacti displayed gigantic spines that made them appear full of arrows like Saint Sebastian. A chlorophyl patina imbued every surface with the semblance of an inner emerald glow, which, combined with the pungent scent and humidity, made the space seem a little too organic. I like perfection in my overdone decorating schemes, and Minka had failed to achieve it despite the natural grandeur.

She placed me on a mossy couch and told me I could get up when the green light came on. “When that happens I won’t even try to stop you, but the green light’s not on yet. Or is it?” Her laughter echoed among the banyan roots and fountaining cairns. And I realized, with everything in my surroundings tinted green, a green light would be all but invisible.

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I Sat Amidst the Evil Hypnotist’s Verdant Decorating Scheme

  • by jentheorizing upon the abstract and the unknowable
  • this happens to other people
  • I nearly fell down
  • I know that I shall go mad!
  • recognize these assholes out in the wild

Tune In Next Time Part 54                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

I sat amidst the evil hypnotist’s verdant decorating scheme, theorizing upon the abstract and the unknowable, hoping that I would be able to see the green light were it to illuminate.

Minka Stiletto’s low voice purred through the humid air. “I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, ‘this happens to other people, not to me’ — but you are wrong. This does happen to you, and it will continue happening until I decide to stop it.”

I heard the faint chuckle under her words and I nearly fell down into the abyss where she would control me completely. If that ever happens, I know that I shall go mad! I could not raise my fingers to plug my ears because my wrists were still bound.

Suddenly, the banyan tree behind Minka sprouted arms. A second later I could discern the outline of a camouflaged shadow warrior, and a second after that it swung its sword and lopped Minka’s head off. Earlier I had been worried about squirrels, but ninjas were the greater threat. I chastised myself for never learning to recognize these assholes out in the wild.

The fountain of blood from Minka’s severed neck painted the plant life a deep red. It was nauseating, but did allow me to locate the blinking green light that signaled my release from the dead hypnotist’s hold.

Now all I had to worry about was the ninja.

 

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I Sprang From The Couch

  • by Kentbefore anything broke
  • She laughed. “Ole!”
  • get yourself another lawyer
  • do any of these words embarrass you?
  • self-inflicted gunshot

Tune In Next Time Part 55                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

I sprang from the couch to confront the ninja, except that with my hands tied I wallowed and flopped gracelessly into a kneeling position beside the couch. Cursing the overly tight polyester slacks I wore, I clambered to my feet.

My wrists suddenly separated as the curly ribbons floated away like confetti. The ninja’s blade was now aimed at my crotch. She laughed. “Ole!”

“Tessa?” I asked. She pulled off her mask and shook out her glorious red hair.

“The one and only,” she said with a wink, making me wonder if she knew about her robot doppelgänger. “You did great, by the way. Dr Stiletto never suspected a thing. Now the sanitation guild will be freed from her influence and the conspiracy will collapse.” She frowned at me. “Do any of these words embarrass you?”

I shook my head, wondering what expression I wore on my face. I was shocked and confused, but not embarrassed. Gesturing to Minka’s head, I asked, “Won’t you have to get yourself another lawyer?” Decapitating a hypnotist was probably a felony in a bucolic town like Ipswich.

Tessa laughed again, a sound I relished despite the gruesome circumstances. “Who needs lawyers when you’ve got the cops and the press in your corner? The headlines will all say Stiletto died of self-inflicted gunshot therapy.”

My mind chafed against the inside of my skull. One conspiracy might be about to crumble, but it sounded like Tessa was involved in another. The strain on my mental gears increased when it dawned on me that she must have been part of it for as long as I’d known her. What was her real reason for saving me? My thoughts accelerated, playing back all my memories of Tessa and trying to cross-reference them with the interwoven intrigues that always seemed to surround us. It was too much to take in, overloading my mental hardware. I stopped trying to think about it before anything broke.

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“We Can’t Use the Front Door”

  • by jen“Keep your hands above your head.”
  • I hate that little fucker.
  • people with no job or family
  • overwhelming and compelling
  • attack was largely fueled by anger

Tune In Next Time Part 56                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

“We can’t use the front door,” said Tessa, “or the back. They have spies everywhere. We’ll need to leave through the skylight.”

I was just relieved that she didn’t say sewer.

“Keep your hands above your head.” Tessa squatted down and laced her fingers together. “Put your foot here and I’ll lift you up so you can reach the rim.”

Her plan worked beautifully until I hoisted myself onto the roof and found myself face to face with Heinrich Hunter. He stood there, casually holding a katana in one hand and an uzi in the other, a sneer protruding from beneath his floppy red mustache. Man, I hate that little fucker.

“All alone I see,” Heinrich gloated incorrectly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. People with no job or family are often alone.”

I struggled to keep my eyebrows from furrowing. I had both a job and an overabundance of family, and with Tessa about to climb up through the skylight I was hardly alone in my danger. I had to keep Heinrich distracted so she might have a chance to escape notice.

“Your evidence is overwhelming and compelling, Heinrich,” I muttered. “I am alone. So, so alone.”

I felt the merest breath of air against my ankle, my only indication that Tessa had joined us on the roof. I’m not sure when she became such an adept ninja, but in the moment I was grateful. Later, not so much.

Heinrich threw back his head and laughed, and that’s when Tessa struck. Her attack was largely fueled by anger. I could tell because Heinrich’s head stayed firmly attached to his shoulders. She pummeled him about the midsection, her ninja stealth faltering and allowing me to catch a glimpse. The next thing I knew, Heinrich lay groaning on the rooftop and Tessa was handing me his uzi. She kept the katana for herself.

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“It Feels Wrong to Have You Fighting All My Battles”

  • by Kentstill (uncomfortably) close
  • manacled together in front of him
  • entertaining a theory concerning those skeletons
  • thronged into his memory
  • very few molecular biologists

Tune in next time part 57                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

“It feels wrong to have you fighting all my battles for me,” I said to Tessa as I made sure the Uzi’s safety was off. Heinrich lay groaning at our feet. “Also,” I smirked, “shouldn’t this be a deactivated speargun?”

“Sorry, I’m fresh out,” she replied, deadpan. Her smile was ninja-like, flitting across her face as stealthily as she’d flitted over the rooftop.

I wanted to ask her about the treasure, I wanted to ask so many things, but Heinrich’s continued mewling reminded me that he was still (uncomfortably) close. If I shot him we would be able to speak openly, but I couldn’t bring myself to plug an unarmed man, not even Heinrich. Tessa shook her head and pulled out a length of chain from some mysterious compartment of her black outfit. Soon Heinrich was fastened to a sturdy pipe with his hands manacled together in front of him.

By then he’d recovered somewhat from his beating, enough to mutter something about “heaps of bones on the beach” while looking sidelong at Tessa. To me, he added, “I’m entertaining a theory concerning those skeletons.” He winked at me, a ponderous droop of one creased and greasy eyelid that left me tempted to shoot him after all. But clearly he was trying to tell me something, something he thought should matter to me. What was the significance of the bleached remains that had thronged into his memory?

Tessa took off one of her socks. Just before she gagged him with it, Heinrich blurted out, “The art of such flensing is a secret known only to a very few molecular biologists.”

Hefting the submachine gun, I weighed the wisdom of pressing Tessa for an explanation.

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Tessa Leapt From the Roof

  • by jenon foot
  • “They’re after us, Bill.”
  • perhaps a seal
  • I don’t wanna call bullshit on that woman
  • confiscated her hip flask

Tune in next time part 58                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Tessa leapt from the roof and landed in a squat on the sidewalk below. She waited impatiently as I clambered down the drainpipe and we set off on foot, Tessa leading the way.

Before we turned the corner onto the main boulevard, some quick adjustments to her ninja garb transformed it into a sleek black cocktail dress. The residents of Ipswich were still under Dr Minka Stiletto’s control. Her power over them had not ceased with her death. We would have to be careful.

“Where are we going?” I inquired.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Tessa whispered as we joined the throng queued up outside the opera house. “Follow my lead.”

Tessa’s lead had a way of getting me in trouble, but in this case I had little choice.

She jostled and cut in line ahead of a pair of middle aged men, making just enough of a fuss that the ushers were sure to notice.

“What do you mean we should just let them? We were here first!” she said loudly in my direction. “They’re after us, Bill.”

She only called me Bill in times of great peril. It was code for ‘be on your toes.’

When the ushers rushed over to break up the kerfuffle, Tessa flashed something from her purse at them, perhaps a seal or a badge. I didn’t get a good look.

“I don’t wanna call bullshit on that woman,” said the shorter of the men we were scuffling with, “but we were here first.”

Tessa winked at me, and then slugged the man in the chin.

In the ensuing melee, I got a black eye, Tessa got a bloody nose, we both got arrested, and they confiscated her hip flask, which is what I had foolishly mistaken for a badge earlier.

In our holding cell Tessa explained that adrenaline and violence was the only way to break Dr Minka Stiletto’s hold over the populace. She’d sacrificed our freedom in order to return the town’s to them.

“And anyway,” she concluded, “Lyudmila will be here to bail us out any minute.”

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The Ipswich Jail

  • by KentI still get goosebumps
  • for the first time since breakfast
  • thought snow, felt snow, smelled snow
  • without a handrail to guide you
  • you should wash that spoon

Tune in next time part 59                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

The Ipswich jail had one of the coziest holding cells I’d been in, but I still get goosebumps remembering my time there. With nothing to do but wait for Lyudmila, I lounged on the cot while Tessa paced. I paid little attention to her for an hour or so, but then noticed the troubled expression on her face. I was about to ask what was wrong when her look turned icy, and for the first time since breakfast three days ago, when I drank six cups of black coffee, I was utterly awake.

That coldness in her gaze made it impossible to imagine anything but winter. I thought snow, felt snow, smelled snow, and shuddered convulsively. The lights in the jail went out, and I heard the cell door open in the inky blackness.

“You can leave the cell,” Tessa’s flat voice said from everywhere, “but the jail is like a maze, and without a handrail to guide you I doubt you’ll reach the outside before they restore power. Oh, and one other thing,” she intoned as I stumbled out of the holding cell and my foot skidded on something metal laying on the cement floor, “you should wash that spoon.”

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Despite Tessa’s Dire Warning

  • by jenonce he becomes self-aware
  • using taxidermy as a front to smuggle drugs
  • dressed in a Goofy costume
  • I’m afraid that our hunt’s over
  • We all loved him

Tune in next time part 60                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Despite Tessa’s dire warning I found my way to the jail’s exit rather quickly, and stumbled out into the sunrise with some of my fellow former inmates, including a woman dressed in a Goofy costume who had been using taxidermy as a front to smuggle drugs. But Tessa was nowhere to be seen. Either she had remained behind in the holding cell, or she was using her ninja powers of disguise again. She could be anywhere.

I didn’t know where to go. Back to the church where Jason and Uncle Jinx were hiding? To the White House to recruit help from my powerful relatives? In my indecision I lingered in an alleyway. From above me on a fire escape, voices filtered down. Familiar voices.

“We all loved him,” Tessa said, “but he’s just not the same man he once was.”

I knew she was talking about me. I strained to hear the other side of this clandestine conversation.

“Our troubles will only multiply once he becomes self-aware,” was Lyudmila’s reply.

I was very uneasy about those two being aligned in any endeavor, especially one that involved talking about me. My only chance was to find where Tessa had stashed the loot. I stayed still and quiet, listening, until a garbage truck rumbled into the alley.

The sanitation workers were on the move.

A few flakes of rust drifted down from above me, as ninja Tessa sprang from her place of camouflage. She landed on the hood of the garbage truck, brandishing her katana.

Lyudmila appeared suddenly at my side. It seemed that she’d learned a few tricks of stealth from dear old Tessa. The blade at my throat was icy. She drew me backwards out of the alley and around the corner, whispering, “I’m afraid our hunt’s over.”

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