Wednesday, July 3, 2002
"Pictures,files,folders,more pictures.Man,I just wanna get the hell outta here..."
"This is getting us nowhere.I've been on this for over a year now.Nowhere." A large framed man huffed at his desk as he thought out loud.The desk was covered with paper.College ruled,legal ruled,Post-it notes,
October 12 2001.
Charge card holder: Thomas Begay
Card type: Visa Acct #:**********9963
1 venti Coffee of the day $1.90
1 chic sald bagel/mustard/pickle $4.75
Grand total: $7.65
Have a Nice Day!
The scene.An 18 year old girl.Becky.Stabbed muliple times in the abdomen.Rapped.She had a tattoo.A small spider above her left breast.Her mother commited suicide a month later.The pressure.Her father dissappeared.The confusion.Her friends left flowers for her at the crime scene everyday for a year.The grief.Her older brother left to solve a brutal murder.The burden.Becky Begay was on her way to Stanford University on a full scholarship.A bright and beautiful Navaho girl.She had grown up urban.One foot in the United States of America,one foot in Indigenous America.Now both feet in the grave.
Tap,tap tap.Thomas Begay tapped his pen on the paper clutterd desk again.Stood up.grabbed his gun,badge,Stetson,and headed out the door towards the Midtown Mall.
Sunday, June 30, 2002
Elsa had been waiting for the boy all day. She had no idea what he would look like nor even why she was waiting for him. But she knew the familiarity would come when she saw him -- it always came that way, sort of backwards.
She'd almost missed the boy at first. He'd been walking with his head down so she didn't see his face right away but she still felt the familiarity in the way he walked, the way he moved -- she was sure it was who she was looking for. And as they talked there by her kiosk in the mall, Elsa's mind slowly formed an image of what it was the boy needed to see.
She'd had the thing ready to show him, in her hands, she'd been so close. She knew timing was crucial, had a sense of urgency for the boy to see it. But she didn't want to rush it too much. She felt he should at least feel a little more comfortable with her, have some sense of trust. "Seeing this will change your life Johnny." This is what she would have said, indeed was on the verge of saying when the woman interrupted.
"Johnny! How many times..." But that was all Elsa was conscious of hearing. She'd waited too long somehow. A sense of defeated devastation crept over her mind. How could this have happened? She'd missed her chance and she knew it was too late. She couldn't just shove the thing in his face, force him to look before going back to his family -- it didn't work that way, it couldn't.
But the boy was still standing there, unsure what to do, hypnotized by her charms. Elsa had to make the best of this, not create a seen. She felt it was crucial for his family not to notice her right now. In as easy and care-free a voice as she could muster, she told him to go back to his family, it's all right. But she knew she was shaken as soon as she spoke and heard her own wavering voice. Her already broken English reverted even further back. The boy didn't seem to notice. He snapped out of the temporary hypnosis and returned to his family.
She understood now why she didn't want his family to notice her. She'd have to pursue him. It had been her duty to show this boy what he needed to see and she'd let him down. Only it was more than that. She had the irrational sense that something greater hinged on this meeting. She felt that she hadn't just let the boy down, but that a whole course of events would be altered and that something, some undefinable force was working against her. She suddenly felt she was being watched. It was a creepy, unwelcome feeling that worked on her mind and snowballed going backwards through time. She felt she'd been watched for the past few minutes, in fact through her entire meeting with the boy. Elsa was now sure of something. There was a force working against her. Something with powers equal to her own, but utterly opposite. Bitterness, outrage, pure evil. She had no image of this force, no face to go along with it, no name for it even. But she knew it would come. As it always came, she'd know when she saw.
Saturday, June 29, 2002
"Johnny!" His mother embarrassingly yelled down the mall's hallway as if there weren't 5000 other people standing between her and her son. "How many times have I told you to pay attention to where we're going?!" Why was is that parents thought 12 was numerical equivalent of 5 when it came to their kids age and being in public, he thought. Of course Mom's timing was perfect as usual as he stood here in front of the most beautiful creation he had ever had seen. "It be alright boy, go ahead to them", the girl said. "I be right here when you good and ready". Ready for what, he thought as he managed to catch up with his family and that other person his parents claimed to be his sister. He had his doubts sometimes.
Watching the disposable excuse of a human catch up with his little, generic family, he slowly allowed his grip to loosen from the blade barely conscious of the blood starting to show through his pants pocket. "Lucky little bastard", he thought. "What the hell is that on your trousers Tim", his boss suddenly said from across the corridor. "And what the hell are you doing down here when I told you to watch Food Court end today?"
Friday, June 28, 2002
10:32AM - Chapter II
"I'm sick of this...this inane sense of nothing.I have removed my own fears only to replace them with hours of sliding in and out of corridors of psycotica.i see you.i watch you every day.i don't even have to stand in the shawdows.i pace the hallways and they pay me to.i protect their pathetic properties and consumer goods.Their 'living' as it were.i ask nothing and in return i recieve the same.But i watch you.You and your new boyfriend.How pathetic!To be so young and not have a damn thing to say to a beautifu; girl.I would know what to say.i say it all the time.But you won't listen.They never do..."
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
The boy was at mall with his family. He and his older sister and their parents had been there, shopping for what seemed like hours. He was getting restless, somewhat distraught that he hadn't been yet allowed to go to the arcade, his only real source of excitement at the mall.
A vague but familiar sense of unfairness was creeping over the boy's thoughts as they walked through, stopping at any store Marci showed the least amount of interest in. His sister Marci was fifteen, three years older than the boy, at that age where many young girls start to learn how to be manipulative and cruel. This day was obviously her day at the mall. The boy knew better than to voice his opinion that it wasn't fair, that he should be able to do something he wanted to do. His father wouldn't be having that today though. He'd most likely be told he could just wait for them in the car if he wanted to act like a little brat. That would mean she would win in a way, and the boy couldn't stand that thought, he'd rather suffer through endless girlie stores than lose this tacit power struggle.
But that sense of unfairness was nevertheless starting to wear him down. He lagged behind them in the big hall, head down, sulking. Then something caught his ear, "Hey boy."
The voice had come from just behind him, one of the kiosks in the middle of the hall which sell endless jewelry, T-shirts, sunglasses, accessories, or just random collectible items. The latter was what was being sold in this particular booth from which the voice had called to the boy. He'd been on the verge of passing it, not even noting its presence when his piteous thoughts had been interrupted.
He turned, looked, not sure even if it had been him the voice was addressing. But when he saw the girl he was sure. She was looking right at him. A young girl, slightly older than the boy himself, possibly his sister's age. But he somehow knew right away she was nothing like Marci.
She looked into his eyes with a smile, "Come over here, I have to show you something." He turned back toward has family, unsure what to do. They were still walking in the other direction, looking at things through windows, talking and laughing, oblivious of his absence.
"Don't worry, they be all right," the girl said, reading his thoughts. Her voice was tinged with a foreign accent, possibly Greek, but the boy wouldn't have known that from Spanish, to him it was just exciting. She had longish black hair and huge black eyes. Her fair face was specked with faint freckles, barely noticeable.
The boy approached with some trepidation, some excitement. Behind the counter, the girl was still smiling, looking directly into his eyes.
"Why you so sad," she asked. The boy only shrugged, embarrassed that she could so easily see into him, afraid of his own voice.
"Okay, something easier. What's your name?"
"Johnny," the boy croaked. His voice sounded week. He suddenly felt very young. Why was this beautiful exotic older girl talking to him? He felt his face burn with embarrassment. He studied his shoes.
"Good to meet you Johnny, I am Elsa," she said with pure kindness and understanding. "I have to show you something now, Johnny. I promise it will cheer you up. Do you want to see?"
Still unable to find his voice, the boy only nodded.
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
THE WINDING PATH...