He hikes up to a cheap, touristy store and grabs some black track pants with white stripes down the legs that are probably a bit too big; a dark brown and tan meshback trucker hat that says “California” right below a long wave curling off from a couple of palm trees; and a shiny dark blue baseball style jacket with red dragons curling down and around the sleeves.
As he’s being rung up, he adds a pair of white plastic shades with a thin, curving slit to see out of to his pile. He figures they’re supposed to resemble Inuit snow goggles.
He pays with cash that he takes out from ATMs just before leaving one area for another. Just in case there’s anybody keeping track.
The man behind the counter grabs a plastic bag and the track pants.
Felix says, “It’s cool. Don’t need a bag. You have a bathroom, actually?”
The man shakes his head and eyes Felix cautiously.
Felix grabs the pile and walks toward the front of the shop. He stops just inside the open storefront and takes his pack and boots off while watching the rain pour down in the open street. He stealthily removes the pistol from the holster rig he made for it and tucks it into the pack and starts changing.
The old Chinese man complains but Felix is starting to feel the pill and feel it stronger than he has in a while because he took the last couple so close together. He feels real good and just decides to ignore the man’s insults and demands. He throws on the track pants, jacket, and hat before putting the silly “glasses” on. He secures the pack so his gun and camera don’t fall out and slings it back on. He drapes the dirty, torn BDU pants and German border coat over a rack of postcards.
A Chinese-American boy in his early teens is dusting near the front of the store. He eyes the jacket and Felix gestures that it’s his for the taking.
Felix takes a new rainbow umbrella out of a pail near the storefront marked “$5” and the shopkeeper goes nuts. Felix pulls about twenty dollars in ones and fives out of a smaller pocket on his pack, folds them with one hand, and tosses them toward the furious, confused man. He opens the big umbrella and sets off down the sidewalk in the rain.
Felix leans on the corner of a building at Grant and Sacramento and watches the fish store entrance and rest of the block for signs of an ambush. A swarm of spiderflies flutters and darts across the intersection. Some pinks walk by him with bulbs and glowy, mite-infested moss half-visible under pulled down umbrellas.
In and out, Felix.
He starts up the hill.
The bells strung from the interior handle clank and tinkle as the shop door closes behind Felix. “Sing Your Life”, a Morrissey song, is playing on the record player. Felix walks the front of the store looking down the aisles.
Felix closes his umbrella but doesn’t bother shaking it out.
She’s on the end of the far right wall, feeding something in a tank. She glances at him and the light from the aquariums makes her weird contacts flash opaque and reflective as she sizes him up with three eye twitches. She looks back at the tank in front of her.
Her blue and black mane is down for once. Some of it curls down her chest and some to about halfway down her back. The quarter-inch front hair has been re-dyed deep black recently and the rainbow speckles applied in a different random spray, this time peppered over and around a few colorful hollow circles of dye, which are probably about the diameter of a nickel and asymmetrically placed. She’s looking quite fit as always and wears tight yet comfortable faded charcoal grey jeans, a loose pastel-orange sweater, and black and red Chinese brocade slip-on shoes. The sweater is tucked-in partly in the front and Felix notices that her belt buckle is designed to look like the top break and lever of an ornately engraved double-barrel shotgun. I wonder if it functions that way too… and he lets himself daydream about testing the action out for a moment.
Felix takes a few steps down the aisle. The colorful tanks glow even more than they would due to a lovely haze that last pill has placed him in and the optical acuteness caused by the thin slit in his plastic eyewear. He stops and shakes his head. Dammit. Stay clear and sharp, fucker. What would Yevgeny say? ‘Stay frosty…’
Felix chuckles then shakes his head again. No! That’s exactly what I mean–
“Hey, Chauncey, we try to keep the water in the tanks,” Siobhán says, more sarcastic than playful. “Oh, and the wannabe triad auditions are a few blocks up at the Happy Donut on Columbus. You’ve got promise. Those goggles should help you see as you hike up there through the blinding, sun-drenched snow. Very tactical.” Just a smidge lower, but obviously still loud enough to hear, she says, “Idiot.”
Felix says, “Siobhán.”
She doesn’t look at him but there’s an ever so subtle movement of her left arm that’s out of sight and just a hint of stance change.
“If the hog leg in your bag is for me, you should have fired it already. Won’t do you any good back there. Also, you could use a shower, Stucky. Are there no professionals left?”
How the…? Doesn’t matter.
“It’s me,” Felix says as he takes the silly specs off and tucks them in his jacket pocket.
She glances back up then locks her view on him. She raises her right arm and points toward the door.
“No. I don’t know what your damage is, but you need to go. Get your aquatic care products elsewhere. I hear Petco has a better selection anyway. I think there’s one in Potrero.”
“What? Wait, why?”
“I reserve the right to refuse service and I am refusing to serve you. Considering the circumstances, I think I’m also pretty reserved. Now, as you and your computation box friends might say, git-foh.”
“What did I do?” Felix demands.
“You? I’m not sure. But if your girlfriend ever comes in here again, I swear I might just lose my temper.”
“Audrey? When was she here?”
“It was weeks ago. Over a month. She said you had a fight the night before and to tell her if I saw you. I almost felt sorry for her but then she flipped out about me being a slut or whore. It wasn’t polite.”
“Why did you feel sorry for her?”
“She looked like you gave her a once-over. Too much makeup… bruises and bumps and a couple band-aids on her forehead. Eyes worked funny like she had a concussion or something.”
“I didn’t touch her.”
Siobhán studies his eyes and lingers on the brown on his left before looking down at the tank again. There are turtles flopping at the surface trying to snag the food she drops sporadically.
Felix notices that her nose chain is on the right side of her face for once. It’s strung through little sets of tiny red and black hammers which silently swing back and forth on swivels between them when she moves her head.
“Yeah, you really don’t seem like the type. I get the vibe that you did do something you feel guilty about… but it wasn’t pummeling her like a drunk hoobilly. Either way, though… I don’t need the drama. I’ve had enough to last a while, believe me. You and your lady are a tiny bother but I’m through with all of it.”
“None of that matters. Listen to me, okay. We have to go… and I’m thinking now would be prudent.”
“Go? What are you on about? I think you should go.” Siobhán caps her turtle food and replaces a mesh top on the tank. She scoffs and shakes her head as she walks down the aisle away from Felix.
He says, “‘I know you see them too.’”
Siobhán stops but she doesn’t turn around.
“See what?”
“I got your notes. The Braille. If you can see them… and they figure out that you can–”
She spins on her heel and throws her arms wide, just missing the tanks on the end of the aisle.
“What?! What are ‘they’ gonna do, Felix?! Do I strike you as someone who’s incapable of self-preservation?! Do you think I give a fuck what your ‘they’s and ‘them’s have against me?!”
As she yells this, the tanks all around vibrate hard in time with her syllables and the f
ish and other creatures in them swim in loose, erratic patterns.
Felix feels his own fear and desperation to escape the city couple with a confusingly deep desire to keep her safe and he snaps.
“You think you’re so fucking tough, right?! What’s after me is tougher! If it’s after you too, you’re fucked! Swallow your bullshit bravado and let’s go!”
Siobhán is instantly disarmed by Felix’s anger and her eyelids flutter. She lowers her arms and studies his face and eyes again. She starts to speak and stops herself. Then starts again and her “American” accent falters a little as she says, “Okay, Felix. What’s so important? Why are we in danger or whatever you’re getting at?”
There’s that Irish again. Why does she always hide it?
Felix pulls himself together, taking a deep breath and exhaling in an attempt to recollect and focus.
“I… I got this camera and it made me see all this stuff that’s around. Forced me to. Since then, I’ve seen that Audrey is some kind of scary, old creature with a dark, burning face that gets all messed up and distorted. I’ve seen all the bugs and jellyfish bulbs and flying, crawling, floating things. Monster police teams; old guard spaznoids; and big, writhing bags of muck covered in spooky eyes and shaped like a large, warped person… until they need to move quickly or attack. Those might be the worst.”
“What’s a spasnoid?” Siobhán asks, genuinely curious and back to her put-on accent.
“Doesn’t matter. The reason I’m here is that everyone I have met who could see this stuff is… well, they’re dead. Killed. And I don’t want that to happen to me… or you.”
“That’s kind of sweet, Felix.” She cocks her head. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think that you are hitting on me. Which is flattering, but I know full well that you have a lady friend.”
“I think it’s pretty safe to say we’re on a break. But… no wait, it’s not like that.”
Siobhán chuckles as she turns away and walks toward the back counter area.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“What?” Felix asks as he follows her.
“Freshly broken up and you want a piece of this as rebound ass. Listen, I may be a tease but I am not a slut or a home wrecker. Golden rule and all that. Or… is it the silver one?”
She steps around the counter, spreads her hands out and leans on them, curving her back a little like a southern girl in daisy dukes maybe.
“This is more fun, though, with you sort of single and all. Now you just have to convince me that I’m not just another floozy in your stable and that you… are a… worthy… suitor.”
“It isn’t like that, Siobhán. She’s one of them! Can we just go?!” My emotions are all over the place. I can’t focus.
“Simmer down, Felix. This is just getting interesting. You have me intrigued but if you’re trying to scare my little panties off, it’s not going to work. I don’t scare easy. Come to think of it, we never finished that conversation. Anyway, I might be convinced to run away with you but you have to be honest.”
“I’m not trying to fuck you, Siobhán!”
She frowns as a clown might.
“Why not? Is it my fashion sense? Or–” She takes a sharp mock breath in. “Or do you not find me lovely? Am I not a pretty princess? You know… I never have seen a Barbie that looks like me! Where did I go wrong? Quick– play some eighties music and put a bright bow in my hair. Give me a frilly boring dress you bastard! Where’s Molly Ringwald when you actually need her?! I’m a basket case!”
Felix can’t help but laugh. Somehow the whole horrible death at the hands of evil forces thing melts away when he looks at Siobhán right now. That last pill has got me rolling balls.
“No… It’s not that! I mean… I’m not gonna lie. You’re… you’re incredible looking. Gorgeous. I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You are… really beautiful.” Jesus, how do you really feel, Felix?
Siobhán waves her hands at her face.
“Ooh la la… you’re good. Can you tell I’m blushing?”
She bends over the counter and leans on her elbows, interlaces her fingers, and rests her chin on top of them. She bats her eyelashes and sways a bit to make her backside smoothly slide back and forth through the air behind her.
Felix hears a hum from the wall behind her by the record player. Siobhán’s eyes flash from playful to sharp and aware and she cocks her head back toward the wall before looking at Felix with a question on her tongue.
Grieves strides out of the wall leering gleefully and chiding Felix, “F-foundyoouAgai-hn! I– fooooooooouuundd yooouu!”
Before Felix can figure out what’s happening, Siobhán has whipped around and has one of her weird butterfly knives open and the tip pressed to Grieves’s neck where his major arteries are visibly pumping. Grieves must have stopped out of reflex. And where the hell did that knife come from?
Grieves shifts phases and takes two steps up to Siobhán’s face, allowing her knife and arm to pass through his neck and upper body.
“Ihmp-pouliiiiite!”
With just a thought from Grieves, Siobhán’s arm is thrown through his body and out to the side with incredible speed and her knife is flung out of her hand, thunking into the wall next to an aquarium at the end of the far aisle and vibrating in place.
Grieves goes to grab Siobhán by the throat but she’s unfazed by his strange qualities and fluidly whips her arm up in a sweeping block of his solidifying hand and forearm before making a quick, circular corkscrew movement with both hands from her solar plexus area to Grieves’s. Felix feels air rushing past his ears toward Siobhán then she shifts on her feet a bit and makes a pushing motion toward Grieves without touching him. There’s a blast of pressure that throws Grieves off his feet and back through the wall he came from and it’s so strong that just the blowback knocks Felix’s stupid hat off.
Siobhán assumes a defensive stance from a martial art Felix’s is unfamiliar with. She watches the wall and glances around for hints of another attack from her flanks.
“Was that thing talking to you?!” Siobhán asks as her eyes dart around.
“Yeah. That’s Grieves. He’s harmless… mostly… I think. He probably assumed you wouldn’t see him and wanted to tell me once again how great he is at hide and seek.”
“‘Hide and seek’?! Are you kidding?!”
“Long story… Grieves! It’s okay now! You startled her is all!”
Siobhán relaxes her stance a little and looks back at Felix. He looks around at the walls and ceiling. After a few moments, the top part of Grieves’s head appears in the ceiling above them in one of the colorful black-lit fish paintings and he watches Siobhán with wide, cautious eyes. She does the same to what she can see of him.
Siobhán leads Felix up the stairwell he had seen at the back of store. The one Miss Long came down when he met her. It’s an old maintenance access set, which runs the vertical length of the apartment building above the fish store.
Siobhán says, “If we’re going on a trip, I’ll need a couple things.” Lower and to herself she says, “‘Cause there’s obviously more to you than good looks.”
They reach the top floor and enter a dingy, dimly lit hallway with funky old carpet. She leads him to a door halfway down and takes out her keys.
Miss Long appears from a different stairwell at the end of the hallway carrying a big laundry basket. When she sees Siobhán and Felix, she stops. Siobhán speaks to her in Cantonese. Miss Long looks older than Felix had originally thought. There’s a look in her eyes he initially mistakes for concern but from her short responses and demeanor, he gets a weird feeling it’s more like jealousy.
Miss Long slowly carries her basket to an apartment a few doors down and across the hall.
Siobhán opens the door and lets Felix in first. He steps in a few feet and listens to Siobhán explaining something to Miss Long, who doesn’t seem pleased but isn’t arguing exactly.
&nbs
p; Felix isn’t sure what he was expecting of Siobhán’s apartment… but it wasn’t this. I guess maybe a messy, lived-in place with poster-covered walls and empty food packages lying around on sticker tagged yard sale furniture. A feel to match her devil-may-care appearance. This place is something else entirely. Minimal… elegant… tasteful… strange. Plus, if I hadn’t entered from that door in that hallway, I wouldn’t have believed I was standing anywhere near a bustling metropolis. It’s… calming.
Siobhán steps in behind him and closes the door. She takes one of those big, red beedis of hers from a pack on a small table near the door, lights it, and takes a drag.
As she exhales she says, “I probably shouldn’t let you in here… but I think it’s safe to assume you aren’t completely in the dark.”
Her apartment is dimly lit and it’s hard to tell from where at first.
There’s a strange orb on a small table near the door that he realizes is a scooter or motorcycle helmet with a mirrored faceplate in a style that makes it looks like it’s for a jet fighter.
Besides the small kitchen to Felix’s left which is relatively normal and an old Sony component stereo to his right against the small living room wall next to neatly stacked rows of record-filled milk crates, this place is unlike any living space Felix has ever come across.
Every inch of what must be exposed hard wood floor is covered in a few layers of thin silk rugs with beautiful, intricate designs.
There’s a low table not unlike a Japanese dinner table made of a dark wood he couldn’t name and one mat at its head. There’s a single Lily of the Valley in a thin vase placed on the opposite end as the mat. The flowers are small bell shapes, which droop down in sets along a curving vertical stalk. My Catholic grandmother called them ‘Our Lady’s tears’.
Next to the table is a beautiful multi-stemmed hookah or nargileh with only one hose attached but a few others neatly wrapped and resting in a pile at its base. In the corner there’s a shrouded, round object on a tall rod with a clawed base. There’s a big mound near the stereo, which Felix decides is basically a dark maroon plush beanbag.
A Tear in the Veil Page 36
