Chapter 2 - The Sleuths

*201 Swann Street, 2004*

The phone rang again, as it had been for the last twenty minutes. Andy switched on the bedside lamp, blinking rapidly trying to get used to the harsh light. He hoped that the remnant visuals of the rather disturbing dream involving lumberjacks, Alfie, and a rather menacing dog snapping at his legs would dissipate. He wiped the sweat off his brow, realizing that the weird tune he heard in his dream was the phone ringing. 

The clock mocked him, as its lights flashed quarter to five. He silently moaned as he reached for the phone. He glanced at Alfie, who was blissfully snoring, his breath reeking of cheap whisky and a swirling concoction of smells which could be best described as a waste treatment facility of a rather popular brand of cologne. The pristine white pillow case wore a darker shade of drool dribbling out of Alfie’s open mouth. Spit bubbles being born and dying out his noxious little orifice. None of which helped Andy lighten up or distract him from the fact that somebody dared to call at a time when even the diligent and hardworking elves union forbade them from working.

‘This better be good’, Andy groggily threatened into the phone receiver, while he wondered if he should switch on the bed side lamp and then decided against it.

‘Good? This will give you both a boner the size of Mt. Kilimanjaro... Is he up?’ The voice on the other end with the heavy French accent seemed to be yelling over the din created by what seemed like heavy machinery being operated. Andy deduced the background noise to be bunch of men grunting while working with shovels and yelling out instructions to each other to be careful.

‘It is 5 in the morning Eugene. So he is not awake and neither am I’ , Andy replied curtly while brushing his palm against his dry lips and oily face, the caller’s excited energy clearly upset Andy more than it normally would have. The caller was Eugene-François, a good natured officer who was their liaison. Eugene worked for the newly created and yet to be named department under the purview of Interpol. The department was created and resourced so as to address the cases which were clearly and inarticulately labeled as being weird. The other departments which found its resources and time being wasted by this newly found outfit and by the people hired as consultants, had been kind enough to have christened the department as The Department of Weird or ‘DW’ as the slang which had evolved after much bickering and bitching. By special directive of the department head of this yet to be named department, the twins had been hired as outside consultants. And it was Eugene’s job to bear their collective wrath and put up with their temperamental nature.

‘Désolé… Désole.’, Eugene apologized and let the cold dead air envelope him further before he found his hands going numb with the wait and the cold.

            ‘Well? Wake him up! He is going to love it! I tell you… He is going to love it… Sending a car around to pick you both up... Should be around the corner’ Eugene continued, his infectious albeit slightly misplaced energy creeping back into his voice, given the time and not really waiting for Andy’s response.

Click. Andy hung up. He had heard all that he needed to hear. He couldn’t bear to listen to Eugene’s French so early in the morning. Morning. The sky was still dark, just like his mood. And knowing Eugene and his annoying habit, Andy wondered if the car was already waiting for them downstairs.

‘Alfie! Alfie! ‘ Andy whispered, as he gently poked Alfie in his guts, knowing well that gentle and subtle was not really Alfie’s style.

‘ALFIE !’ Andy pulled Alfie’s hair aside and yelled, giving vent to his sour mood and his morning breath.

‘WHA ? WHA ?’ Alfie woke up with a start, books tumbling down the side of his bed, while his hands instinctively reached for the cricket bat lying down on the floor next to the books.

‘Eugene called.’ Andy spoke matter of fact while he watched Alfie roll his tongue around his teeth and then masticating on whatever he found interesting lodged in his molars.

‘Yeah ! So ? It is five AM! ‘ Alfie yelled as he looked over Andy at the clock, before spitting out the last shredded and chewed upon piece of meat lodged in his teeth.

‘He sounded pretty excited about whatever it was that was exciting him.’ Andy wiped his face, brushing off the last veils of sleep and the images from the disturbing sleep.

‘Eugene is always excited about something. What does that French bastard want now?’

‘I don’t know. He just told us to get ready and come wherever he was. He said you will love it.’

‘He always says that about everything. Did he say where to come?’

‘No he didn’t. I am guessing the driver ought to know where.’

‘You know the driver doesn’t talk. That is what the word mute means you know.’ It was Alfie’s turn to show his displeasure at having his blissful, alcohol induced sleep disturbed.

‘We’ve got to get ready. He is sending a car to pick us up.’ Andy ignored and continued to relay the message or whatever he could remember. Just for a fleeting second, Andy wondered if he had really answered the call or if it was part of his elaborately detailed dream. He seemed to be having a lot of them off late.

‘Now?’ Alfie said as he stretched and yawned.

‘For the love of god and all that is holy, please brush your goddamn mouth with some industrial strength cleaners. You smell like badgers and raccoons made themselves a nest in there.’ Andy said in mock irritation, smiling at the bewildered look on Alfie’s face.

‘So we don’t know why we are awake or where we are going?’

‘No! But it is time you woke up and got ready! The car should be here anytime now.’

‘I bet he found something new...’ Alfie tried to hypothesize a logical and reasonable theory for him to be awake while jumping out of bed trying to shake his body out of the lethargic state it seemed so content with.

‘Oi! Easy now!’ Andy moved sluggishly, still considering whether to tell Alfie about his dream and then deciding against it.

As they tied their shoe laces, Alfie exclaimed, ‘I have a good feeling about this… And are you sure Eugene said that I would be happy?’

‘Yes. You are always happy when you have a new case’ Andy replied, shaking his head.

‘Though, I really did wish he would have called couple of hours later. I could have done with some more sleep.’

‘Being dragged out of bed at five in the morning is not really your thing, is it? Especially when you are hung over like a horse’ Andy quizzed with a smile.

‘Well, don’t really have much choice in this matter now do we?’ Alfie chuckled at the quip, as they walked down the stairs to find the car waiting for them.

‘Look at you! Smiling like a kid who just been promised by Santa that all of his wishes will be granted this Christmas.’

‘What look? If you ask me, anything is better than just moping about in our apartment waiting for something exciting to happen. You said so yourself!’ Alfie said as he rolled down the window on his side trying to hide the glee which was spreading its warmth across his face as the cold wind blew and the car sped into the early morning light.

The brothers looked outside the car window, silently and stoically, each lost in his own thoughts, one smiling sinisterly wondering what awaited them, while the other frowned and cursed nature for having played such a cruel trick on them.

‘Good thing that we don’t share consciousness and conscience, wouldn’t you say?’ Andy spoke, shredding the silence that had enveloped the car.

Alfie continued smiling, as he absentmindedly ran his fingers over the imaginary seams where their bodies were conjoined, as the car sped on.

AL.AN - The Origins (Prologue)

*Prologue*

It was a quiet night. Much like the ones before that night and much like the ones after that. But something was intent on shattering the silence of that night. Like a naughty kid left alone at home.

 The shadows of the night shone off a lonely figure walking across the empty streets, save for a warring pack of stray dogs, piss marking their territory, sniffing each other’s bottoms and trying to climb on top of each other and moving about like an out of control piston. The sounds of muffled footsteps made them flip their heads with perked up ears. The figure slithered through the night, the hemline of its light summer dress flirted with her knee length boots. She pulled the hood over her head and dug inside the pockets searching for something. The cold misty air from her button-like nose caused turbulence in the still air. The territorial pack responded reflexively to this intrusion of their privacy and space and got behind its leader to take the first course of action. They circled, growled and barked to intimidate, their eyes glowed with anger and intent.

Anita stopped for a moment to light up her cigarette, when she looked up, she saw the angry pack. She ignored them and continued walking. She didn’t feel like getting into trouble today. She just wanted to be left alone. By now it was a matter of pride and ego for the resident pack of dogs. They growled and barked louder, it was when they started clipping at her heels that she stopped again and surveyed the pack for its leader. There he was, his skin spotted like a Swiss cow, the hair on his back standing like a roman legion on a war path, his fluorescent eyes gauging his victim for any sign of fear or weakness. She saw the door ajar of a derelict building out of the corner of her eyes. She walked a few steps to the left, the dogs circled in closer, the air was terse with tension. They knew it was time to go for the kill. The barking menace crept higher and higher, along with their advancing paws. The leader of the pack, leapt forward, aiming for her throat.

One blink and you miss speed, she grabbed the leader by the fur on its neck, in a swift turn of a seasoned stunt bike rider pulling off a regular skid, she banged the door shut on the rest of the pack. Suddenly with no leader, the blood thirsty territorial pack kept pawing at the door wanting to be let into what they now considered to be a private party. But this was no party they wanted to be a part of. 

‘You really shouldn’t have’, Anita reprimanded the dog as she smirked in annoyance while holding the dog by its neck, suspending it in mid – air, like a harmless earthworm squirming to get free. The moonlight streaked through the broken and blacked-out windows of the building tagged ‘to-be-demolished’. It made her eyes seem even more evil than the eyeless skull sticking out in the graveyard. Like a powerful yogic master, she pushed the face of the dog between its front legs. Holding the legs together, she reached into her jacket pocket for her trusted switchblade. And in five swift and swish moves, she made the alpha dog of the pack turn into a cuddly soft toy, as she deftly cut away at the tendons joining the hind legs to its hips, the front legs to its torso and distending his ball-sac. She dropped his incapacitated blood spewing body down on the ground with contempt.

As the dog lay there withering and moaning in pain, Anita’s eyes changed color as the shiny pale moon light glistened against the dark, shiny, oily blood of the dog, which was quickly taking shape of a vile and wet death bed. She squatted next to the dog, marveling at the spurts of blood the arteries sprinkled.

‘‘Awww… are you in pain doggie?’’, Anita asked with concern underlining every single syllable uttered from her child like innocent voice. The dog continued to moan and convulse its body with pain.

‘STOP MOVING YOU STUPID DOGGIE AND ANSWER ME!’ Anita yelled, her shouts muffled by the punches she threw on the dog’s furrow browed face. The fury of punches finally stopped and so did the dog. Its skull broken in seven different places and its brain served as mashed potatoes on the hard concrete floor plate.

‘Doggie? Doggie?’, Anita questioned again like a little girl asking her mother about the whereabouts of her favorite doll.

ps: Would be nice if you actually take the time out and read the whole damn thing.

pps: Let me know what you lot thought about it. Hated it/Loathed it

Alphabets - How I imagine them to be

I have been thinking about this for quite some time. And by this, I mean, trying to give new images to the alphabets than the ones which are ingrained by rote in my memory.

A - The train tracks stretch out for miles. And somewhere out in the distance as you stick your head out of the train, they merrily meet at the questionable horizon. Makes you want to question everything you learned about parallel lines back in school. Fills you with doubt, fills you with hope. The miles stretch on. Somewhere in the middle of all this lies a shortcut, a portal which allows you to switch between your alter egos residing in parallel universes.

B – Pair of glasses, Apple bottom, Fly on the wall, a butterfly breaking out of a cocoon or a heaving bosom in a wonder bra. Never have two curves made you marvel at the non – linearity present around you as you watch your gaze shift from the mirror to your own body and then the person sleeping next to you.

C – Ear, nose, thumb, a really fat finger waving through the air like a sparkler.

D – The heel of one’s boots, the one which sends you the hospital bed. Broken saloon door, which no longer swings open to your soul.

E – The devil’s fork or just the salad fork used by vegetarians to eat their salads. The g – string underwear sticking out of the girl’s jeans as she leans and holds her boyfriend tightly as he whizzes by you, while you wait for a bus.

F – That confusing turn on the map, irrespective of the one you take, it leaves you stranded and staring at a dead end. This is what Robert Frost wrote about.

G – A Greek horse shoe, resistance in the wrong way, the weakness of ohm exposed or a key hole through which the hapless kid plays a witness to the bollywood villain slaying his/her family.  

H – A rope bridge across a cliff, whose reflection in the shimmering burning hot sun refracts your fear of heights.     

I – The beginning of most doodles or doodie or a tally mark for the nano second of boredom you felt when you wanted to write a list but couldn’t be arsed about it.

J – The hook by which the captain was recognized with. The one which he used to pick his nose with or tended to the wedged underwear or jus the finger which lets you get close to that last bit of jelly in the bottle.

K – The bull’s eye after Little John and Robin Hood had finished with their pissing contest or the drawing which Zeus discarded when he was designing his staff, which eventually gave him the idea for organization hierarchy of gods and heroes.

L – The unfortunate leg which most people generally end up losing in an accident. It is usually one leg, if the movies I have watched are anything to go by.

M – This is how I imagine a male porn star looks like with speedos on.

N – A one legged male porn star with speedos on.

O – The thing you mouth makes when you are surprised by the sudden introduction of a finger up your bum. The finger doesn’t belong to you. That is why you are surprised.

P – The way snoopy the dog looks like with no tail, eyes, hands or legs.

Q – Elephant’s bottom, cannon ball, mouse (the optical and the cheese eating one), the helium balloon you bought and set it free just to see how far in the sky it goes, hoping against hope that it now resides peacefully and happy somewhere in outer space.

R – Snoopy the dog with morning wood or just really wanting to go have a wee.

S – That annoying bra hook which causes blood to flow upwards. It is also the shape of your sphincter while you try to figure how to open the gateway to heaven or giant nippleage are.

T – Streetlight under which people tend to have their split personality kick their bottom bleeding raw. Or just a normal regular street light which whispers your name out in the dead of the night, luring you with promises of pleasure of physical and chemical kind.

U – How I imagine hemorrhoids looks like under a X – ray. Or it could just be Moby Dick’s lone testicle. The other one is with Captain Ahab or, Ishmael as he likes to be called if you are on a first name basis with him.

V – If you flex your biceps, the way the skin folds at your elbows. That is what I was told the lady bits look like when I was kid.

W – Madonna and her claim to fame. And I am not talking about her songs.

X – Scissor sisters. The sex thing not the band.

Y – Martini. Neither shaken, nor stirred, just standing still. Also a sign that you had a rather out of turn posh night.

Z – Just a fancy looking S. Reckon this is how comic sans was born. Also... ZORRO!

Ps: I think somewhere down the line, I got bored. Not sure where, but somewhere.