#my journey sure was ! something alright ! emptiest head

[myforeverforlife]

love in the air.

Jongdae is the most cheerful of his friends and coworkers, never seen without a smile on his face. But sunny days come with their handful of gloomy ones as well, leaving Jongdae feeling out of sorts. The break in his stormy sky comes to him in the form of you, and your sudden request. 

Word Count: 3,846

CBX Detectives Masterlist: (Minseok)  (Baekhyun)  (Jongdae)

Masterlist 

CBX Investigations was never crowded, seeing as there were only three investigators and one secretary. But now that Minseok and his newly wedded wife were off on their honeymoon, the office was the emptiest it had ever been. 

Jongdae leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other as he listened to his business partner continue his lovesick monologues about the girl he was courting. 

"I almost died when I heard that her father would be there for supper that night," Baekhyun exclaimed, eyes wide as if he was reliving the events all over again. "If it wasn't for our work with the police department, I'm sure he would have knocked me out onto the street right then and there." 

Jongdae hummed with disinterest, spinning a pen around with his fingertips as he stared out the window. 

"Hey," Baekhyun called out, leaning across their joined desks and knocking against the panels of polished oak. "Anybody home?" 

"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?" Jongdae dropped his pen onto the desk, sitting up straight and letting out a heavy sigh. 

"You've got your head in the clouds all the time. What's bothering you, old fellow?"

"You're older than me!" Jongdae exclaimed indignantly, scowl deepening when Baekhyun cackled in delight.

The older man quickly grew serious again when he saw the wistful look return to Jongdae's face. "Really, Jongdae. What's wrong?"

Jongdae shrugged, eyes focused on the tree growing outside their office. The leaves were a mossy green, sunlight dappling spots here and there as the afternoon breeze tickled at the tree branches. "I'm just lonely, I suppose. You and Minseok have always been my dearest friends, and seeing both of you off on these new journeys makes me wish that I had something like that." 

Baekhyun sat silent in thought, searching for the right way to console his friend. Jongdae was the most reserved of the three of them, keeping his sorrows to himself and choosing to show only his brightest sides. “You know, there's someone that Chanyeol knows, a friend of his sweetheart. I'm sure he'd be able to put in a good word for you — ”

"Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it, but I think I'll pass." Jongdae stood, picking up his hat and heading for the door. "I'm going out for a walk." 

Baekhyun would have offered to come along, but he knew that his friend needed some space. "Alright. Don't stay out too long." 

Jongdae nodded, slipping his hat onto his head and opening the door to the vestibule. Right as he got the door open, he bumped into another person. 

You were just on your way in, reaching out for the handle when the door swung open and you collided with a man's chest. 

"I'm so sorry," Jongdae apologized immediately. "Are you hurt?" Your hat brim covered your eyes, soft curls slipping out from your low bun and framing your face. 

Stepping back with a soft laugh, you shook your head. "I'm fine. I'm just glad that I didn't run into this glass door instead." Once you looked up, Jongdae was surprised to find that he recognized your face.

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, taking off his hat out of respect. "How do you do?"

"I'm doing well, thank you, Mr. Kim. Are you on your way out?" 

"I am. It's a beautiful day outside, and I'm itching to head outdoors. But did you need something, Miss Y/N?" Jongdae couldn't help but indulge in his curiosity. It wasn't often that he saw you outside of the library where you worked, always looking so peaceful and at home among your stacks of books. 

"It's a small favor of mine," you began. "If this isn't a good time, perhaps I could come back some other day."

"That won't be necessary," Jongdae assured you. "If you like, we can discuss this outside." 

You nodded, a relieved smile gracing your lips. "I would greatly appreciate that."  

Jongdae didn't dare to offer you his arm as both of you walked side by side along the cobbled pavement. There was always the possibility that you had a beau, the sudden flicker of jealousy in his chest taking him by surprise. It wasn't like you two were well acquainted — he only ever met you outside of the library whenever you were walking home. He cleared his throat, putting both hands behind his back as he continued to walk. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?" he asked nonchalantly.

Your teeth bit down on your lipstick-painted lip as you thought about how to phrase your concern. "There have been books missing from the library. It always occurs in the history section, but we never notice anything missing until the next morning. The head librarian believes that one of the staff must be misplacing them, but it seems like too much of a coincidence to me." 

"Could it be possible that one of the staff is taking the books home without making any record of them?" Jongdae questioned.

"Possibly, but I doubt it. We've been trained to keep every book documented." 

Jongdae read the hesitation on your face, and paused in his steps. "Do you have an idea of who took the books?"

You sighed, glancing down fingers playing with the hem of your glove before making eye-contact. "There's a girl, little Catherine, who comes in almost every day and practically lives in the history section. She's very intelligent for her age, and seems to devour books more quickly than anyone I've ever met." 

"Why do you believe it's Catherine?"

Your mouth opened, before shutting as you looked away. "Catherine's family is well-known in the area. Her mother and father are kind people, but struggle to keep their children adequately clothed and fed, especially with five children." You turned back to face Jongdae, eyes shining with desperation. "I know that she wouldn't do it for a cruel trick like some other children would. She loves her books, has even walked through the rain in nothing but her brother's hand-me-down boots just to spend a couple of hours in the library. I just... I can't let any harm come to this child." 

Jongdae was rendered speechless by your sudden outburst, and extremely touched at the same time. He knew of your fondness for children, the sweet praises of "dear Miss Y/N" that fell easily from their lips on the rare days that he went to visit the library. But he couldn't let his respect for you cloud his judgement. "Why would she take the books outright instead of borrowing them?"

"Some of Catherine's older brothers have had a history of losing or returning books in worn-out condition. Because of that, the head librarian will only let her read the books inside the library." You let out a huff of exasperation, eyes hardening. "It isn't fair to remove her library privileges if she had nothing to do with the other books. I can't help but feel sorry for that poor girl. If I were in her shoes, I would feel compelled to do the same thing!" 

Jongdae was nodding in agreement before he could stop himself, something that didn't escape your notice. “And if the head librarian were to find out...”

"Catherine wouldn't even be able to step foot inside," you finished. "Mr. Kim, I have to find a way to stop the books from disappearing without getting her barred from entering. Please," you begged.

"I'll do everything that I can to help," he agreed. "But first, we need to make sure that Catherine is the one with the books. When does she usually come by?"

"Almost every other day, after school gets out." 

"I'll be sure to come by then, to do some observing."

Jongdae would have agreed a hundred times over just to see you smile as you did now, relieved to finally be making some progress. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Kim! I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am." 

"It's really nothing," Jongdae replied humbly, rocking back on his heels as he gave an awkward chuckle.  

There was nothing but pure warmth in your eyes as you shook your head. 

"It means the world to me." 

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about Catherine. Jongdae had spent the last couple of hours half-focused on the book before him while discreetly studying the small child. Her school materials lay forgotten on top of the table while she read, hunched over her book. The bow in her hair was faded, the tip of her socks peeking though a tiny hole in her beaten up boots. But little Catherine's face was animated as she read, clear eyes widening at certain parts, lips pouting whenever she came across something distressing or confusing. 

Jongdae met your eye a couple of times, reading the soft adoration you had for this child. Even from your spot at the reference desk, you kept a watchful eye over her. 

When it was time for the library to close, Jongdae watched as Catherine lugged her heavy book back to the history section and slid it back into its spot in the shelf. She gathered up her school materials before saying goodbye to you, heading home for supper. 

Once everyone else had left, you and Jongdae ventured over to the history section and looked for the book that Catherine had been reading. 

"This is the one," Jongdae pointed out, finger resting on a blue spine. He let out an impressed whistle upon reading the title. "A History of European Explorers in the 16th Century.”

"She's very intelligent," you said proudly, as if Catherine were your own child. "Last week, she was fixated on autobiographies." 

"But she didn't take this," Jongdae commented. "Unless she knows of your suspicions."

"Possibly." You sighed, a heavy sound that held all of your worries about the situation. "I hope that I'm wrong about suspecting her.”

Jongdae nodded in agreement. "I hope so too, Miss Y/N. She seems like a sweet girl.” 

He waited as you cleaned and locked up the library. The sun was almost completely swallowed up by the sky, signs of nighttime slowly creeping behind. Jongdae offered to walk you home, something that you gladly took him up on. Conversation was sparse for a while, both of you unused to speaking to each other beyond simple greetings and thoughts about the disappearing books. A group of boys playing baseball in the street prompted you to ask Jongdae if he partook in any sports or recreations activities, something he laughed over and denied. For Jongdae, work took up most of his time. 

"Whenever I'm free, I often go visit my mother and father, or see what some of my musically talented friends are working on." 

You didn't have much musical talent, but the beauty of music and musicians at their craft never ceased to amaze you. Both of you instantly launched into a conversation about certain musicians, up-and-coming jazz clubs, and even Jongdae's own forays into playing the piano. 

All too soon, he was dropping you off at home. "Thank you for escorting me home, Mr. Kim." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, the light from the street-lamps casting a shadow over part of your face. "I know that you usually don't walk this way to get home."

Jongdae shook his head, an easy grin on his face. "It was no trouble at all, Miss Y/N. I'm glad to see you home safely."

Before you could speak, your sister was opening the front door. Her mouth was open, just about to greet you enthusiastically and tell you to hurry and come in when she noticed your guest. "Oh. Hello there!" 

With a blush, you introduced your sister and Jongdae to each other, hoping that your sister wouldn't do anything to embarrass you.

"Y/N's never brought a man home for dinner," she said saucily, completely ignoring your glare. "Would you like to come in and join us?"

"Actually, I was about to head home myself. But thank you," Jongdae added cheerily. 

"That's a shame. Perhaps you'd like to come back another time?"

You bounded up the front steps to your house, clutching onto your sister's hand and sending her a loaded glance. "We wouldn't want to inconvenience Mr. Kim, would we?" Your emphasis on the last words didn't go unnoticed by her or Jongdae, the man trying to hide his amusement.

"Good night, Miss Y/N," he called out, tipping his hat to you and your sister. "I'll make sure to come by the library again." 

"Good night," you weakly managed to get out. You and your sister watched him walk away until he was merely a speck in the distance. Once you were sure he couldn't hear you, you spun around, placing your hands on your sister's shoulders.

"I cannot believe you would do that to me, in front of Mr. Kim of all people," you whined. 

"Is he a suitor? You didn't tell me you were courting a man!" she gushed.

"I am not having this conversation with you right now," you huffed, walking past her and into the house. 

Jongdae's steps were light as he walked home, hands stuffed in his pockets while he whistled a fragment of a tune he had been working on. Baekhyun had joked about his new acquaintance, stating that "love was in the air, and nothing would be able to stop it". Jongdae had only taken it as one of Baekhyun's silly jokes, not paying much attention to his teasing.

But something had certainly changed, although Jongdae couldn't put his finger on it. 

Perhaps love was in the air.

The next day, Jongdae came by the library although both of you weren't expecting Catherine to come until the day after. He was taken aback by the surprise on your face, waiting to come up to the reference counter until you were done helping an older woman. 

"The book is gone, the same one that Catherine was reading yesterday," you said in a low whisper.

Jongdae's eyebrows jumped up. "But she only comes in every other day." 

"And she's in school right now. She couldn't have come by earlier, since we were still closed." You tapped your fingers worriedly against your desk, only stopping when you realized how loud the sound was in such a quiet library. "I don't understand. Maybe it is someone else." 

The private investigator leaned against the counter, twirling his hat in his hands as he thought. "Is there anyone else that comes in after closing?" 

"No, and if there are any staff staying after hours to clean, it's always documented. I was the last one here yesterday." 

Jongdae's eyes swept over the library, looking for anything else out of place. "Is there another entryway, somewhere that a person could easily slip through undetected?” 

"I don't think so. There's only one other back door, but only staff have access to those keys." 

"Do you mind if I take a look around the library?"

"No, please, go ahead." 

A careful inspection of the back entry only backed up your statement. There were no signs of rust, any weak points of signs of forced entry — not that Jongdae expected a child of Catherine’s size to be able to force open a door this heavy. 

There were no windows in the staff office, so there was no way someone could enter through there. This led Jongdae on a long study of each window, making sure that each one fastened tightly. When nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, he went outside. 

Various bushes were planted alongside the library walls, vibrant flowers painted against lush greenery. The windows seemed fine from the outside as well, no cracks or subtle gaps in the glass. 

Jongdae was almost at his wits end, one hand running through his hair when he noticed something shining in the dirt. He knelt by the window, one knee in the dirt as he looked for the source. He almost mistook it for a rock, but once Jongdae looked closer and picked it up, his face lit up with realization.

Little Catherine wasn't afraid of the dark, not when she had four older brothers pulling all sorts of tricks and mischief at all hours of the day. She had read her book in the library, dutifully putting it away and saying goodbye to you before walking down the street. When she saw you leave, once again with that strange man, she crept to the back of the library. 

Catherine dug around in the dirt looking for her key, the one her oldest brother had once stolen from the library. He never told her about it until he heard why she stopped bringing borrowed books home. Taking pity on his little sister, the boy gave her the key but made her promise not to tell anyone about it. 

With key in hand, Catherine slowly turned the lock, grateful that these windows were locked from the outside. She always felt the sharp pangs of guilt when doing this, thinking of the kindness that you and some of the other staff showed her. But then she thought of the head librarian's cruelty, and her resolve only hardened. 

After climbing in carefully, Catherine made sure to close the window silently behind her. She wandered in between shelves of books until she found the one she had been reading earlier that day. With a gasp of delight, she reached out, pulling the book from the shelf and cradling it in her arms.

"Catherine?"

Surprised by the voice, Catherine dropped the book to the floor, face pale with shock. She looked up to see you and Jongdae, confused by the lack of anger on your faces.

"I thought it was you," you murmured, crouching down and picking up the book. "Are you the one who's been taking the books recently?"

The girl nodded, hot tears stinging her eyes at being caught, and by one of her favorite librarians, no less. "I didn't want to be bad," she sniffled out. "But I love the books so much, and I couldn't even borrow them." 

"I know," you assured her, only surprising the girl even more. "And I know how unfair it felt, being punished for something you didn't do." You took in a deep breath, steadying your nerves. "Where are the books now?"

"At home." Catherine wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, tears and snot mixing there. "Under my brother's bed." 

You pulled out your handkerchief, offering it to her when she wiped her face with her sleeve again. She mumbled out a soft "thank you" before burying her face in the fabric.

"Catherine," you began gently, waiting until she resurfaced. "I'm not here to tell the head librarian about what happened. But I do need the books, and your key back. If you can bring them back, I'll find a way for you to borrow some books." 

"How?" the girl asked, a hiccup cutting her off. Jongdae had to turn around to hide his smile. 

"If you see a book that you like, I will borrow it for you on your behalf. But I need you to keep the books in good condition until it's time to return them, otherwise I won't be able to do this anymore. Do we have a deal?"

Catherine sniffed back her last tears, nodding vigorously before shaking your hand. "I'll bring them tomorrow!" she exclaimed, already feeling better.

"Alright," you agreed. You smiled with satisfaction when Catherine gave you the key, proud of her for doing the right thing. 

"Come on," Jongdae spoke up, nodding towards the door. "I'll walk your home before your family starts to worry." 

Catherine tried to give you back your handkerchief, but you shook your head. "A lady always needs a good handkerchief," you told her. 

The girl's face brightened at your words, and she folded it up carefully before putting it in her dress pocket. "I'll take good care of it!" she said proudly, waving goodbye as Jongdae held the door open for her.

"I'll be back to walk you home," he told you, hurrying away before you could protest. 

Seeing as you had a good fifteen minutes left on your hands, you took your time organizing your cleaning space. It was a little later than expected before you heard Jongdae's step on the front stairs. 

"She made it home safely?" you asked, pulling your coat on.

Jongdae nodded, laugh lines appearing on his face. "When we got there, we saw some of her brothers playing outside. A baseball got stuck in a tree, and so as a gentleman, I had to help." 

You joined in the laughter, picking a stray leaf out of Jongdae's hat and showing it to him. "Are you sure you wouldn't have climbed up there anyways, gentleman or not?”

"Perhaps." Jongdae's impish smile gave him away, and you shook your head in mock disbelief. 

You couldn't help but notice how carefree he seemed to be as he walked you home. When you pointed it out to him, he pushed his hat further back on his head, exposing his forehead. 

"I suppose it's the satisfaction of closing a case successfully. You made Catherine very happy today," he added softly, casting you a sideways glance. 

"I did what I could to help her. You would have done the same." 

"I would. But not many others would have.”

You shrugged, swinging your purse lightly between your hands as you walked, heels click-clacking against the pavement. "Possibly. I was just being a good neighbor." 

Jongdae was touched by your humility, by how you refused to take more recognition for your efforts. "I'm sure she'll be very thankful for a long time, Miss Y/N," he said tenderly. 

Taken aback by the sudden shift in his voice, you looked up, face heating up when you saw only sweet admiration there. 

Your house came into view, and Jongdae was hit with the realization that he wouldn't have an excuse to see you now that the case had been solved. You stopped before the front gate, turning to face Jongdae. 

"Mr. Kim, would you like to come inside for supper?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude," he began weakly, already starting to give in.

You smiled, shaking your head. "It's not considered intruding if I'm inviting you in." 

Jongdae couldn't argue with that. "Well in that case, I'd be delighted to join you for supper," he said warmly. 

With a triumphant grin, you opened the gate, calling out to your sister as Jongdae took off his hat and stepped inside. He followed you up onto the front porch, lingering by the doorway as you entered the house. 

Not too long ago, Jongdae had been feeling alone, even with his work and friends to keep him company. Who would have known that all it took was a visit from you to change everything? Although his friend had been joking, Baekhyun was right.

Love was in the air. 

CBX Detectives Masterlist: (Minseok)  (Baekhyun)  (Jongdae)

A/N: like all of my jongdae fics, I did more writing for this than I initially expected LOL but I hope that you guys like this impromptu final part to the cbx series! I never even meant to continue it after doing minseok’s as a request for the drabble game, but I kept thinking about it and how much I wanted to write about this era from other viewpoints as well. doing research has definitely been fun, especially when it came to writing y/n in each story. I loved writing the shy, secretary main character in minseok’s fic, and had fun writing the prim and proper socialite for baekhyun’s. having a sweet, kid-friendly, down-to-earth librarian for jongdae’s part of this series just rounds it all out for me, and re-reading through these just makes me so proud? 

#exo #jongdae #jongdae scenario #jongdae fanfic #chen scenario #chen fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

[enjolraswould]

Chapter 1+2 of “Death Is A Miserable Business”

Read on AO3 or under the cut. Enjoy!

The year is 1961 and Cosette Fauchelevent is on a mission to find her missing father, Jean Valjean. A series of mysterious deaths that may be linked to his disappearance lead her to team up with Inspector Javert, a detective who seems oddly determined to locate Valjean himself. Death itself is lurking around every corner, and if Cosette wants to avoid coming under suspicion herself, she's going to have to face a few of her own demons. -- This is more or less a crossover between Les Miserables and Ray Bradbury's "Death Is A Lonely Business," with a few things changed and a few surprises along the way. If you've ever wanted to read a pseudo-noir tragicomedy where Cosette and Javert are buddy cops, well, here you go.

Chapter 1

-

Paris, France, in the early days of the fifth Republic, was something of an enigma. According to the newspapers, this was a new day for the nation, and the nation was stronger than ever. And indeed, the City of Lights hadn’t seemed quite so bright, nor so lively, since that brilliant time over 50 years past, when the world gathered in Paris to celebrate her beauty, her progress, and her indomitable spirit. So glittering was she now that barely a night passed where the stars could be clearly seen beyond her glow, so full of life was she now that the echoes of the past seemed to quiet in observance of a louder, more promising future.

Yet underneath the music that poured from nightclubs and theaters and apartments was still the steady, languid turning of the Seine. Late at night, with the laughter gone to bed, the last running metro cars rumbled beneath the city and rattled the walls and the ribcages inside the walls with their sleeplessness. And the echoes that were so silent in the day found their voices deep in the alleyways and empty parks of the predawn hours, singly softly only to those still wandering, asking how the streets could be so dark with so many lights.

It was one of these whispering nights, rocketing through the emptiness below even emptier streets in a metro thundering towards the emptiest place of all, home, that I met the Devil.

I had been late at the library and, lamenting the lost time, had begun working on assembling my next lead on the metro, my books and papers spread about me on the seat. No one else was aboard, just myself and my thoughts in the anemic light flickering above. So absorbed was I in my work that I didn’t notice the man who entered the car until he was already seated behind me.

I would not have noticed him except for his mumbling, and even at this I did not turn around to look at him. Anyone who rides the metro knows that to look at a stranger only encourages strangeness. I kept my eyes down on my papers, though I could feel his breath close behind me, crying messily and without rhythm. My attempts to ignore him, however, did little to discourage him.

“Oh,�� he sobbed, and I felt his hands grab the back of my seat. Despite myself, I closed my eyes, so better to not hear him.

“Oh, God,” he moaned louder, and even my skin seemed to pull away from him as he leaned closer behind me, something brushing the back of my neck, the tip of my ear.

“Listen,” he cried, and it was a plea issued from the very bottom of a grave.

The metro swung around a turn, sending my books sliding as the lights above shuddered, dimmed, and threatened to burn out entirely. I heard my papers scatter but could not move to gather them, could only hunch blindly forward as the wine-soaked voice behind me gasped, “Death!”

Another turn sent my books thudding to the floor. The rails below screeched but did little to cover the stranger’s voice so close beside my ear, as I heard him again cry, “Death!”

And suddenly all noise, all movement, ceased. The metro had arrived at its next station. For a moment the air hung completely still as the vibrations of the train petered out into idleness. And then he whispered:

“Death… is a miserable business.”

He whispered it so sadly that his very words dripped with sorrow. To my horror, I felt something wet splash against my neck and swim down underneath my shirt collar. Tears? Perhaps. I could not make myself turn to face him. I stayed curled into myself, waiting, praying.

I heard him stand, then, and lean closer. So dearly did he want to be heard, so urgent was his message. And so frightened was I that when his voice abruptly rang in my other ear, I almost began to sob myself.

“Death!” he shouted, and at my responding yelp, he lowered his voice once more to a murmur, “Is a miserable business.”

And trembling, I listened to his footsteps fade as he shuffled from the metro, heading out into the sparkling night somewhere above.

Only when the train began to move again was I able to jerk upright, to rush to the window in order to try and catch a glimpse of the stranger. But it was too late; we had already entered the next tunnel. Whether my tormentor was flesh and blood or a ghost conjured by my own fears, there was no way to tell. I was already journeying into the emptiness again, this time most assuredly alone.

And alone was, at that moment, something I did not want to be.

“You shouldn’t,” I told myself as I gathered my fallen books, “You don’t need a drink. You promised Papa you wouldn’t drink.” But…

-

Chapter 2

-

I had a drink anyway.

I knew of a little run-down, wood paneled, pre-war pub a few blocks out of my way, midway between home and the Seine, and this is where I headed, if only because even if it was empty except for the bartender, at least it would be more populated than home. Which it was, empty except for the bartender, distracted by his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

“One double vodka, please.”

The request shocked me, though I was the one who had said it. I didn’t even particularly want a double vodka. What I really wanted to do was call Marius, half a world but really only a thousand kilometers away in Venice. I wanted to call him and say that I was alright. But I definitely wasn’t alright, because I was ordering a double vodka. And why? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened except… the world’s emptiest train and a stranger’s desperate sad voice dripping tears down the back of my shirt, and both were likely to creep into my bed with me that night.

Not that this was terribly unusual. Most nights now I was accompanied in the loneliest possible way, by thoughts of Marius away and Papa gone and everyone so scattered and far…

So I drank the double vodka.

“Jesus, lady,” the bartender cursed, reaching for the glass I’d slammed back onto the table just a little too loudly, “Take it easy. You don’t need it that bad.”

“I don’t need it at all,” I coughed, wincing through the burn, “At least now I know I don’t like vodka.”

“You’ve never had vodka?”

“I’ve never had anything more than wine.”

The bartender whistled lowly, cleaning the glass carefully and shelving it again. “Well, I’m honored, but what’s the occasion?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, leaning against the bar, “But I feel terrible. I think something bad is going to happen but I don’t know what or to who.”

“We all feel like that, these days,” the bartender shrugged, then paused to glance at me through the corner of his eye, like he was seeing me for the first time, “Wait, aren’t you the young lady whose father went missing a few months ago?”

It was a common enough question. Ever since Papa had vanished, and ever since Marius and I had begun our search, most of Paris knew me as the girl with the missing father. But I shook my head noncommittally. I couldn’t write every strange feeling off as being part of Papa’s disappearance.

“This isn’t about my father being missing. There’s something bad coming, getting closer all the time. Something is going to happen.”

The bartender looked nervously from me to the door, then absently began wiping down the bar.

“Probably the weather, then. Big storm coming tonight. You ought to go home and stay away from double vodka,” he advised. Neither of us looked at each other as I dropped my money on the bar and gathered my books once again, and I left the bar feeling somehow worse that I had when I went in.

Sometime the winter before, an old police boat had been dumped in the Seine. No one would admit to who had done it; the police insisted they weren’t responsible, but who else could it have been? In any case, the wreck still floundered there, rocking in the sluggish flow of the river. The newspapers had done a merciless job of mocking it, a few small-time politicians had referenced it in their speeches for one reason or another, and then the weather had grown warmer and more important issues had captured the city’s imaginations, and ultimately nothing was done to remove the old boat from its final resting place. Sometimes a few brave children would wade out to it and play on its tilted deck and duck underneath to peer from the submerged portholes, but otherwise the wreck had become just another part of the landscape.

What possessed me to wander towards the Seine that night instead of straight home, I cannot say. One would assume that after the encounter on the train and the unpleasant drink, I would be eager to return to someplace familiar. Yet my footsteps turned me towards the river, and I found myself leaning against the wall above the water and gazing down towards that once controversial boat.

Now, long after midnight with the lights of the city glowing all around, the water took on a curious sort of life, all faintly shimmering waves and shivers. In comparison, the wreck itself was dark and still, a foreign body lodged unwelcomingly in the serene forward motion of the river. Yet not entirely still; it rocked softly in that motion, steadily, as though breathing in its sleep.

Despite myself, I stayed a moment, watching the shipwreck breathe. Underneath the silver shine of full moonlight and dusty golden glitter of more human lights around me, the water was still somehow black as anything, blacker even than the shadow of the police boat. The night rather abruptly felt whole, and wholly focused on this river and the boat within the river.

Perhaps a different vessel further along the river moved, or perhaps it was the wind. But as I moved to turn away and head back into the night, the water suddenly swelled darkly around the wreck. It rocked, roughly, once before settling back into its tired old motion, but something was changed.

My heart pounded once, twice. I leaned over the wall once again, straining to see into the dark. Something was behind one of the portholes, half-submerged; a motion, or a paleness that wasn’t there before. A reflection, I thought, or something like a ghost.

A face. A face, just behind the window, too shadowed to recognize. Disbelieving, I leaned further over the wall, half praying that the river would again surge against the boat, push the shape… closer? To be seen? Or further in, away from sight, so that I may not see?

But as the boat rocked, the shape fell forward. The face pressed itself against the glass, a familiar photograph in negative, empty-eyed and emotionless as a marble bust tossed carelessly into water to be weathered, smoothed, erased…

And it sank once again.

Somehow, my first and only thought was of the stranger on the metro, his words leaping and echoing like stones skipped across the surface of the Seine, dropping finally with great reaching ripples: “Death… is a miserable business.”

It couldn’t be.

But there it- he- was. A dead man, tapping at the window of the police boat.

Worst of all, I knew who he was.

This I contemplated, rather coldly, to myself as more and more lights around me turned on and people began to come running. I had woken them with my screaming.

#Les Miserables #Cosette #Javert #Barricade Day #Barricade Day 2018

[brainlaxies]

Grassy Pavement

I started writing this story while sleeping and living out the back of my jeep, traveling the west coast. In a way it's what I wished would of happened. With hints of past traveling memories and some scenarios I have seen in my minds eye. Enjoy!

Grassy Pavement 1

Stars were glimmering before me like blinking Christmas lights on a plastic, used up old tree. The amount of stars slowly started to vanish before me. At the same time the warm air was getting a lot colder. As the last star faded away I rubbed my eyes. Opening them only to notice that my focus was on a black tile on the ceiling. Surrounding me was four yellow walls and a tiny pink door. The floor And ceiling were both covered in white And black checkered tiles. My boots echoed as they tapped on the floor and in a instant I felt a vibration run thru them up to my spine. The rusty And metallic chair that I was sitting on fell to the floor, jittering as I stood up. The vibrations grew stronger, like a roaring engine sound. All this happened as the tiny pink door was glowing and a light shimmered from the sides casting my shadow in all directions. My instincts controlled my muscles at this point, as I noticed I was on all fours crawling to the tiny pink door. The hairs on my arm stood straight as I reached out for the door knob. A blinding light engulfed me, along with warm air again. I rose up and looked out my car window and noticed a pink semi truck riding into the horizon. I ran my fingers thru my sideburns & up to my temple and messaged it a bit. Strange dream.

The beer can on the floor still had moisture around it and I picked it up to polish off the rest of the semi warm pee it tasted like And lit up a cigarette. My journey felt like it was ending when in truth it was only beginning. I hopped out the back and looked around the strange orange dessert environment, the only thing pleasant being the clay like rest area I was stopped at covered with cactus and strange plants. This was a alien like place and I had to get out. My cigarette was almost done as I turned the keys to the burgundy station wagon that I placed myself in. A cute girl was near the exit of the rest area. I could vaguely see her but noticed blonde hair and black hip hugging shorts and what seemed to be boots. Fucking boots, in the desert. My interest was peeked as I turned the volume down. What a shame too because it was my favorite Minor Threat song. Seeing Red.

The dust settled as my passenger window rolled down. The blonde 5 something girl lowered her eyes to my level only to remind me of home. Her eyes were a bright green. A color I missed far to much out here in the desert.

"Where you headed too?" I asked

She looked at the road over her right shoulder and then glanced at me. At that very moment a car passed by and her hair blew her hair awkwardly upwards like a cow just licked the side of her face. "Anywhere but here"

I chuckled and gave her the hand gesture that anyone gives to tell some one to get in the dAmn car and lit a cigarette as the weight on my right foot acknowledged gravity and off we go. The passenger door closed on its own and the girl was shocked and looked over her left shoulder only to get smoke blown in her face. "Got a extra cig?" I shook my head no and pointed at the pack on the dashboard " I don't have any extra but feel free to have one" she grabbed one out the wrinkled up box and placed one on her cracked lips and lit it up, face hugging the front of the interior of the car. She must of liked what she heard being so close to the speakers because she turned the volume up and leaned the chair back some to stare out the window. It was some folky tune I must of put on my phone a long time ago but I didn't mind. Her hair didn't look so bad now, and it almost blended in with this desert environment bleeding thru the windowless window she was leaning out of. "If your thirsty there's beer in the back, I wouldn't mind one ethier" She leaned over the seat to grab two beers. Her legs were gorgeous despite the few scuffs and dirt splotches that covered them. "What's your name?" I asked as she cracked one open and pAssed it to me. "Most people call me Stereo" I let the cold beer fall down my gullet and licked my lips. "Stereo eh, creative, whys that" " well most party's I go to I end up fucking up something with the stereo, aux cord, the tape player screws up, or I punch the speakers sooooo my friends always introduced me to people at parties as Stereo. Kind a fore shadowing I guess" "hah!" I turned down the volume and glanced over at her " well these don't go to eleven okay" she giggled some and took a sip of her beer. It was a two lane highway and it was getting kinda bumpy and every so often you would see 66 on the road. Strange place this was. " whAt about you?? What's your name?" "pebbles" "Pebbles!!" She spit her beer out some " that sucks why pebbles, got tiny balls!?" I sarcastically said hah and speed the car up. "Hey hey now slow down there, it was a brain fart" my foot let off the pedal some "gonna at least ask why?" She wiped off the beer spit from the front window with a old shirt from inside her back pack and tossed it on the floor, along side the rest of the trash. "Well, why??" She looked over and looked me up and down. " you don't remind me of a pebble, skinny, weird side burns and short hair, I would take you for a computer nerd kinda" "haha no it's not my looks, I use to carry dice with me everywhere and they would sound like pebbles when I walked around, plus I was pretty alright at gambling so I ended up with that name" she tilted her head up a little and went back to looking out the window. "That ain't too bad then I guess. Misfits" I looked over at her and turned the volume back up. How the hell did she her that?

The sun was going down and I only had half a tank and one more beer. The city lights were in the distance but probably a hour away and traffic was getting heavy. A exit sign near by hAd all the amenities I needed and I pulled off towards the closest gas station. Stereo was passed out at this point and my friend in the city didn't call back after I called him earlier in the morning. My thoughts were to pass out and park in a church parking lot I saw a half a mile up the street until morning and figured she wouldn't mind. There was plenty of space in the station wagon and I wanted to catch up on some reading anyway. So after buying a 6 pack and filling up the tank I drove on over to the church and parked. Maybe oh maybe we could get some free shit from these church folks in the morning.

I woke up to Stereo shaking me from the front seat " Yo pebbles" she whispered to me, but not super quietly, you could tell she was way to close to the speakers growing up. " these old birds want us to go to church, they say we need it" I looked out the window and it was a black elderly couple, the lady wearing a bright pink dress and square like white cap with pink feathers in it and the old fellow wearing a all white suit with alligator shoes and a purple tie and pink shirt on. " the way I see it now, is you folks need a helping hand and we encourage you come forth and enjoy the blessings of our lord and savior" I was rubbing my left temple again and looked over at Stereo. " why not, free bread and wine, right?" She looked at me with a grin " lets rob the wine" she whispered, and this time it really was a whisper. "Sure thing sir, we will see y'all inside" after I told them that, they waved at us with a big smile on there faces and walked to the congregation standing and talking outside. "Lets just hope there not into snakes eh? Stereo" "psssh! Whatever pebbles I've always wanted to do that!" She polished off a warm unfinished beer and threw it on the floor of the car as she jumped out. She sure did have a lot of energy, not what I was expecting but who knows how long she's been hitch hicking for. "By the way pebbles, I got a few friends in the city we can kick it with, just need to borrow your phone when we're done wrestling snakes, k" she winked at me and started stretching, I forgot her shirt was so torn up but the band name on the front was a old one. Very classic. It was ripped up to be a tank top and I could see the green bra straps that went around her ribs. She was a sight for sore eyes and it was pleasant, so was the cherry to my cigarette. I got out the car and patted the dust of my jeans before following stereo towards the church. She was waving her arms around like she was wrestling a imaginary snake. The few people of the church that saw her shook there heads and walked in, with no idea of the on coming storm that was about to beseech them.

The church exterior was a light blue clay type building with a white wooden steeple and grand wooden doors with elaborate stained glass paintings of religious type art. We stepped in and everything was white and gold. Very high ceilings with a good ole golden cross with Jesus on it in the middle. The slender rug connecting the pew to the front door was a velvet shade and we tip toed on it to the closest and emptiest sitting area. To our surprise the couple that invited us was getting up to talk and I shook my head and looked down.

The couple ranted on about past church events and also about the upcoming ones. Then they asked for all new members of the church stand. We were obviously not new members, but most certainly new. We were busy looking thru the strange assortment of religious books on the back of the pews that we noticed. Plus the microphone wasn't helping there speech to the 2 dozen people in this huge building. They finally said that they invited us and thoroughly described where we were sitting at. Me and Stereo got spooked because we heard silence and looked up to everyone staring at us. We decided to stand up and everyone clapped. While all this happened the old couple that invites us in was walking toward us to shake our hands. After all greetings were done we sat down. Stereo looked at me and nudged me on the shoulder. "This shits strange, got a cigarette?" I handed her one and she lit one up right there and then, no hesitation. The couple now sitting next to me nudged me and in response I nudged her. She blew smoke in our direction. "What?!" Everyone turned to look at us. This was going to be a strange start to my day.

A hour later we were running out the church towards the station wagon, both of us mooning the church and me holding a open bottle of sparkling grape juice. I jumped in the car and handed her the bottle and turned the ignition and drove right over the grass and sidewalk, straight to the highway. "Good thing I had some leftover vodka!" She grabbed a small flask of vodka and poured the rest into the sparkling grape juice. "Damn right! Let's get the hell out of here" she gulped up some of her newly made cocktail and put her feet out the window and started to relax. "Nothing better then loud noisy music to keep you in the now eh? That quiet harmony like shit bugs me..." "yeah" I said grabbing the bottle from her hand and taking a schwill. She turned up the volume and 108 was playing "God Talk"

We were nearing the city and it was becoming obvious. Not only was the skyline in the distance, but the amount of billboards bombarding us was increasing in numbers and in size. We started looking at them with slightly drunk but attentive eyes to spot any comical images or statements. It was nice because normally I'm just looking for the next gas station or the proper exit.

None the less we both had a good laugh at some of the billboards. After Stereo giggled at some oddity she saw on the sidewalk while we were now driving in the city, she polished off the last of her cocktail and looked over at me. "I don't know why you pulled into this part of the city, it's nothing but business n fancy shit" I nodded my head yes "true but there's a place i like a lot up here that has great rolling tobacco, hard to find and I'm over these chemical riddled smokes." She shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her belly "well I'm a bit hungry...." my stomach growled at the statement and we pulled into the closest burger joint that might have a dollar 75 cent menu. Dollar menus were a thing of the past, kinda annoying since I now had to look around my trash filled car for at least 20 mins to get the proper currency amount. None the less we did alright, she got some veggie wrap that did look really pleasant, even though in my mind it was just bagged up vegetables and cheaply made tortillas. But she enjoyed it none the less. "You know, later on there's a solid cheap local spot with pretty quality veggie sandwiches u might like" she looked up, spinach halfway hanging out her mouth n then she swiftly consumed it with some odd tongue maneuver, her eyes lit up "talking about Crescent Park Deli??" A smile was emerging. "Yup, use to know people that worked there" it was pretty cool she knew of the spot because it was tucked away in a quiet but strange part of the city. Stereo sipped up some water from this hilarious orange n blue cup with a funny whale on it. Fast food restaurants will do anything. "My friend stays 10mins away from there" she said and I finished my last chicken tender wrapped in French fries. "Sounds good then, let's make moves" I got up and watched her shove the last of the wrap in her mouth, I chuckled her face resembling a squirrel before winter. She heard the chuckle and looked at me moving her jaw slowly and gave me a small punch on the shoulder n flicked me off. It was nice she didn't get embarrassed easily. We walked off into a sea of kids and large humans and tall skinny humans and working humans all gathering to fulfill a natural need that would be fulfilled but only for a short period of time. This food held no sustance. But we still would leave smiling.