Traverse, Inc.

by Sells, W. G.

  Au revoir, Henri.

  I’m not sure that whoever decided to use this exploding pill to kill Henri considered whether or not it would do it without being detected. Henri didn’t think so anyway. As I put on my smile and strut and headed for the men, I heard a faint thump and then a louder knock coming from the side of the cage. Sister Boom had moved to the bar and was surrounded by a group of people that kept a safe distance, and was involved in at least three conversations. Unfortunately, other folks were turning back to the cage and the cage was rocking. I ignored it and joined the three men who offered me a chair.

  I was just about to sit down when the side door opened and Annette came running out with a terrified look on her face. Her clothes and hair were disheveled and blood was running down her left temple. Thankfully, no one else noticed, for at the same time, Henri slammed the cage so hard the screen lid slid off. In a moment, the giant python twisted his head out of the top, lurched his body over the glass and threw himself to the floor with a thud. Sister Boom screamed as did half-a-dozen others.

  Guards poured in from every angle to corral the snake and guests headed for the elevator and stairway. I went to Annette, but Philippe reached her first and grabbed her hair pulling her back into the room. She screamed and disappeared inside the doorway as quickly as she had originally appeared. Philippe yelled but the guards were cut off by Henri who now took up most of the floor from the cage to the doorway and by the guests running for their lives. I ran inside the room.

  “Annette!” I screamed, forgetting her cover name for the moment. Philippe didn’t seem to notice with the drug hitting him full force as he was trying to hit Annette who he had pinned to the floor. She dodged his wild blows and wiggled herself enough to throw him off of her just as I was about to hit him in the head with a lamp. He fell over all by himself – finally passing out from the mickey and that’s when I saw a shadow behind me. Before I could react, everything in the room went black.

  “What is your name?” the doctor repeated for the fifth time.

  “Where is my girlfriend?” I asked trying to buy some time.

  “You were brought in alone. But it’s good you have some memory of someone being with you. What is her name and I’ll check to see if she was brought in separately.”

  “It’s ah…” I started to answer, but wasn’t sure what her name was. I knew I had someone with me, but I… “She is brunette and…wait…her name is…sounds like…brunette. Oh, it’s Annette…no it’s not…it’s Blair.”

  “That’s quite different than Annette.”

  “I know…it’s all so blurry. I had to do a word association and thought brunette – Annette, but it is hair – Blair. Sorry, her name is Blair Mitchell. Like ‘Paul Mitchell’ – you know, the hair guy.” I laughed but the doctor squinted at me over his glasses. His face scrunched up like he wasn’t buying it.

  “So what else do you recall about the other night?”

  “The other night? How many nights have I been here?”

  “Four,” the doctor said checking his chart. I was about to do a heavy sigh, when a nurse walked in to hand him a note. There was something that didn’t feel right. It seemed almost like the last time I was in a hospital bed and the nurse brought me a note – only she was on our team. This nurse was not. She gave me a fake smile with her mouth, but it didn’t change the bored expression in her eyes that seemingly screamed at me that she was playing a role in a drama she didn’t want to play. With the five cheap studs in each ear; the thorny rose tattoo on her ankle and a spider tattoo that seemed to be crawling up or down her neck, plus the red bra showing through her nurse’s whites made her look like, well, something other than a nurse.

  The doctor looked at the note and then stuffed it into his coat pocket. He smiled.

  “So, your friend…” he said, “was she a close friend?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked not liking his tone.

  “Your friend, Miss Blair Mitchell came in DOA the day after you came in.”

  I lay there in shock. I closed my eyes to the tears that wanted to flow, but the thoughts pounded through my brain…How did you get that message so quickly? And...what IS my name?

  Thanks for the Memories

  [Previously in Traverse, Inc. – As she comes-to in a hospital bed, Peggy Lipton can’t remember her name – either one of them, and a strange doctor gets a note from a stranger-looking nurse that tells him Annette – or Blair – is dead.]

  “DOA?” I mumbled and the sound of it reverberated inside the bandages surrounding my mummified head. Tears finally fell and scurried down my cheeks like scarab beetles searching for sandy cover. They made the gauze itch. I was tempted to ask the nurse for a scratch, figuring I would get some relief and then chomp her finger off. Maybe I'd regenerate, but then what? Annette was gone and I was hooked up, tied up and fed up with life.

  “Would you make a phone call for me, please?” I said.

  “Yes,” said the doctor. “Do you remember your name now?”

  “Yes, it’s Julie, Julie Peters.”

  The doctor wrote it down.

  “And who would you like to call?”

  “Please dial, One-Eight-Hundred-Con-Call.”

  The nurse tapped her Micky Mouse encased cell phone and put it to my ear. I eyed her nearest finger which had a chipped nail and the trace of last week’s neon green polish. Yuk. I opened my mouth, but all I could do was speak to Myron as he answered the phone.

  “Hello?” he said cautiously.

  “Peepers,” I said.

  “Julie!?! Peggy!?!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes, boss, it’s me.”

  “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine and….ah….I quit!”

  I nodded at the nurse and moved my head away from the phone. She gave me a wry smile and then looked up above and behind me and winked. My first thought was a camera. Sure enough, ten seconds hadn’t passed before the door opened and Philippe de Rosa walked in. He was not a sight I was shocked to see. I had figured that much, but the shock was the girl at his side and on his arm. Annette smiled and raised her hand to wave. It held a syringe.

  “Hi Julie,” she said. “Thank you for making everything so easy.”

  She walked over and shot the liquid into my IV bag.

  Sure. Thanks for the memories…

  As the room went dark, I thought I heard Philippe say something about his new snake being hungry.

  The End

  Thanks for following along. Who knows? Maybe someday time will allow for continuation, but until then, let your imagination run around the cage. Oh, and please check out Freak Happening - An Apotcalyptic Buzz-Kill.