Cardinal Points II




Only a small plaque, stating the name of the SHOPPE, likewise the PROPRIETOR, and expleaining the intent of the place: RARE BOOKS (BY APPOINTMENT ONLY). Established, apparently, earlier this same year. "Would this be it, then?"

"Yup," pulls keychain from pocket.

"Would you, then, be our esteemed proprietor?"

"Uh, yeah, that's me."

Look back at the name on the wall as she unlocks. "Kate."

(redifinds a pointofreference with breakthemold impunity through antiexistentialist shriekings and letitbeletitbeletitbe protests and reluctant correction strikes to weave inandoutof oh for fucksake man its only a sound so letitchangeletitchangeletitchange lie downwith sleeping dogs to wake upwith mongrels distill some impropriety to interrupt thine causal onlythat does it reallyreallytake so much more which answer is desired now no tonight turbines yet in one way oranother yet always you smell of somuch candor)

Stops, door part open, turns back. "You got me. You know, I thought it was strange to hear someone call me Kali again, but hearing you call me Kate is even worse."

"Shall I not do so, then?"

"No, I think it's a good kind of strange. If you don't mind my asking, though, what's your real name?"

"You're never going to believe me, but -"

"If you say 'Marduk,' I -"

"Daniel."

Stares at. Shakes head a bit. Laughs, quietly, not entirely humor. "Unfortunately, I think I do believe you. I hope you don't mind if I continue to call you Marduk."

"I suppose I don't especially mind, but I do find it a bit odd."

Laughs. Really laughs, this time. "What about this whole situation, not to mention everything that we can claim to share of the past, do you not find odd? Are you such a bizarre character that this is all just the same old shit to you?"

"No, not exactly, but perhaps a bit closer to it than you might think."

"Perhaps a bit closer than I might think. Way to make a statement, Marduk. Daniel. Whatever. Anyway, as much as I hate to admit it, I can probably say the same." Definite edge to her, now. Real games beginning, perhaps. Perhaps. "I'd also like to point out that, if you insist, I am willing to call you Daniel; I'd just prefer not to."

"At present, Kate, I insist on nothing."

Look on the face changes, not quite decipherable. "Sorry." Must have caught subtleties, rather so thought subtleties, in the voice, more cards on the table now than either wanted. Good. "I'm just a bit on edge tonight. In case you hadn't noticed." Eyes move down to the floor, submissive. 'Being on edge' seems to make her bipolar.

"Apology unnecessary, but accepted nonetheless. Further explanation would certainly be appreciated, however."

(mammalgames everyetagain how you riverrun malicious intentions to the crux of benevolence o you sultry angelicassaulters you of mightmakesright but goodwilltoall your sintalks of righteousness reveal deeper insinutions of a saint thatyou loathe yourself tobe but in the name of the Rapist and the Bastard and the Holy Fuck forever you spiral your own intentions to morrow andaday ethereal projections of whatIwould ohifonly Icould doyou doanchew willyou woanchoo stop answering questions you kanteven question oyou dichotically oriented mammal)

Looks up spritely, then down and around to her hand, sitll on the doorknob. Another sort-of smile. "Come in. Have a seat."

Nod, slowly. Keep the advantage. Light alit on a room fullofshelves and cases all holding books, leather couch and chairs round a coffee table. No words, waiting perhaps on a reaction. Motion denied. Really quite a nice little SHOPPE, though, would love to examne the offerings sometime.

Coughs, dry. "Please, sit down." Watches as done, licks lips with dart of the tongue. "Would you like a drink?"

Cock head to show thought. "Scotch, perhaps? If you have any, that is."

"Yeah. Hold on." Wanders off to back room, presumably. Enjoying the torture, but... not too much of it yet. Need to lighten the mood, enough for now already.

"Been drinking on the job, have we?"

Calls back, "Yeah, doesn't everyone?" Reappears with bottle of Cutty Sark and two glasses, walks to chair across from.

"My dear, it seems as if you still have a lot to learn about us proletariat."

Fills a glass, "Shut up and drink, damn you," pushes towards.

Laugh. "Thank you," with a smile, let her know all forgiven. Taste the stuff. Chilled. Fills her own, knocks back in two. Follow the example, then. She smiles, finally warmth to it.

"That's better."

Crack the neck, sharp on the left, wince. Hand up to rub.

"So, fills glasses again, "I don't know how much of an explanation I can really give you. Everything that's got me so worked up, or whatever I am right now, basically has to do with what we decided not to talk about earlier. I don't want to get into it, and you don't want to hear the only way I think I can say it. I don't particularly want to keep you in the dark, but the dark seems to be what we've agreed to."

Raise glass for a toast. "To the dark, then."

"Stop trying to sound cheerful. It's not working."

"Fine. To the fucking dark, then."

clink!

(whereowhere has my hand upto neck swill that sweet nectarof nectarof fireof nectarof obliviatic nectarof into thine was designedfor nutrimentality always follow them stepattatime otherwise you fuck yourself andthen ifyamust then fuck yourself stepattatime inehbgined while softly into thatgoodnight throw back the hand my hand upto neck swill that sweet elixirof elixirof inebric antagobenevolence burn the tongue numb the mind numb the tongue light up the crotch Imacumminhome for allthat shakennotstirred flagrant astairity ginger my rogers if I wayne your john hops and absinthe and whore's blood cock tail tongure demerit all vision when morning affter rollround)

Wants me drunk, then? Good. Less of a prick, maybe. Already feeling that first glass take this one slow. Small taste. "Just a warning," small taste numereaux deax, "but I am expected at work tomorrow." Trois.

"I'll keep that in mind. The back of it, anyway. Takes almost a gulp or so. "What were we talking about?"

"I believe that we were just coming to something of an agreement on what we are not going to be talking about."

"Ah. Does that mean that you agreed?"

"Well, at the very least, I did acquiesce."

Rolls her eyes. "Keep drinking."

"Excuse me?"

Sighs, leans forward elbows on knees. "Just once, I'd like to hear you just talk like yourself, without hiding behind the mask of a dictionary. If I have to carry out a wholesale slaughter of your brain cells to do it, ifne, I'm willing to pay the price in booze."

Right. "Are you trying to insult me?"

"Maybe. I don't know. IF so, that's definately not the point."

"I don't that it's quite so much of a mask as you seem to think. Certainly, it probably isn't entirely unrealted to the question of distance that we discussed earlier, but I'll have you know that it's neither interntional nor, for the most part, even conscious. The fact of the matter is that ("Everything in this book degenerates into chaos," she said,) what other people may bery well see as 'big words' are really just words to me."

"Words that it sounds like you're choosing pretty carefully."

"At the moment, yes."

"Why? Who's here that you need to impress?"

"What makes you assume that to be my motivation? I am, quite simply, trying to avoid saying anything that I would later regret."

"Fuck, man. Why so defensive?"

"I -" (with vigor dispose of tobacco left unsmoked will deny forthcoming accusations of shortcoming triumphancies see e3very possible way in to personal mecca but no possible way out only serve to embellish your perceptions in an attempt at peace brought only a source can never truly regain that which I've given will continue in this vain with no foreseable terminus fool myself with only the most sofisticated vulgarities play well iwth others follow The Golden Rule to a tea or a cup thereof disguise lecherousness with intimidation and indecisiveness spit in my own face since my idols are far too real my ideals are far too feeble too simple too loft too corruptible too unshakable too here and now omnipresent in all that I do too much the bttlements from the tops of which I spit on myself too sofisticated for this sort of vulgarity (too vulgar for your sophomystification) am not really at ease with my own confusion though told that I wear it well on my sleeve with a dash of salt a splash of dry vermouth a pound of fresh butter and a cock tail onion will never really decide one way or the other always seem to find the most complex structures to hold up the simplest facadews the most complex facades to hold up the simplest structures repeatedly pound your bloody pulp into a pretty face dream nightly of excrement in Royal Yellow give it my all take it know 'ere distinguish the sensibilities of madmen from my own by knot but a count of syllables ein zwei drei o'clot fier o'clot rot applied repeatedly for the post of Village Idiot (told I'm underqualified) then moved on to County Fool (next week I've got an interview for National Moron) don't quite follow you could you repeat that once a gain have all the right answers but you're asking all the wrong questions would really and truly love to buy a vowel but I blew all my eloquence on the last don't need a whole lot of money (money can't buy me soap) liken myself to all sorts of legends but the similarities end there blew my wad in Central Park. then discovered I was only dreaming then discovered I was only writing then discovered I was only watching my hand move with a pen in it then stood up to (degeneration) smoke a cigarette then read what I'd written and spat in my face (fier knot, tis the same one I'm saving) then disguised my lecherousness with intim id at i on knot mush of a chance yet foreign deicisiveness wonder why you bother and which one of you I'm addressing am an anarchistic collective ruled by a council of figments (allegorical, all of ye. je t'accuse! I demand retribution! give me a boundary for my struggles - I beg of ye, disintegrate no more, stop causing me to formulate rules you force me to break. who's paying for this catharsis, anyway? you in the back? sir, I doubt very much that you knew him that well; were that the case, I'm certain that it'd have something to show for you. all this blood-sweat-and-tears is causing me to lose track of typography, one lump or pile? gomorrah caught sodom stung 'fore the prize of atoss, i could well ask the same of you. Keep on fuckin, scream vulgar from the turrettes of your towers blind yourself well, just give me back my damnable ideals!) led a horse's ass to wisdom and he done made me drink woke up in downtown golgotha with only dilation to show for your love never wanted anything more than a glass house to throw stones in can't even think straight so how would you expect me to write have come a long way baby can't find the beef came all over Flavor Country don't want to go anywhere today think different build one for you am on sale for one day only no-va am not dealing with CI&A sunday sunday sunday only give you the edge (hand-crafted) don't fucking care what they've done to my oatmeal drive myself to tears in acts of true exhibitionism mistake nuances for statements makes nuances without saying a word can't spare change but take all the stasis you want finally learned to never learn from my mistakes would rat her fuel the fire than to fan the flames for furtive furnaces to fracture finally fine fevers never took the price of gas into a count have no time for recirculation commodius vicus be damned spiral fractures the challenges inherent in)... am truly defensive? Suppose so. Certainly worked into a crabby and irrational, right, defensive. Only revealing her perception, most likely a common one, could even be thankful. Right, why so defensive? Some truth to it, perhaps? No, not truth, poor construction, some... validity. "Just being a self-righteous asshole, I suppose." And how did that one come out? Not how intended, can be sure, one way or other.

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Not in the least."

"I guess we're getting somewhere, then."

"Lost, I imagine." Drink some.

"Sounds good to me."

"You would be the sensible one, then."

"That was sarcasm."

"I honestly have no idea." Either she's the more perceptive, or only assuming commonplace intention of 'sensibility'.

"Good. You won't be needing any of those, tonight."

"And why, pray tell, would that be?"

"Didn't we just agree to getting lost?"

"If that's how you choose to skew it."

"That is exactly how I choose to skew it. (with a dash of salt a splash of dry vermouth a pound of fresh butter and a cock tail onion) And if you're willing to go peacefully, then I may just be able to pull this off without inflicting any mortal wounds."

"I suppose that I am willing, but only up to a certain point. Remember, I am supposed to work tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, that again. What do you do, anyway?"

"Computers. Network support."

"Consultant?"

"Basically, yes."

"Call in. Right now. Tell them you've got a meeting with a consulting firm, out of town, tomorrow. Who knows; if you play your cards right, you might even get a raise out of it."

Sigh. "I know this may sound a bit absurd, but I'd prefer not to lie to them."

("Not even at gunpoint?" PUlls handgun, revolver, from behind her back. Probably stuck in the pants while getting the booze. Pulls hammer back with thumb.

"Okay. You win." Eyes on the gun, hand holding it. "Where's the phone?"

Motions with head towards back room. Nod, stand up slowly. Let her see hands. Heading over, then. Gets up to follow, in through doorway. Stacks of books, computer desk, steamer trunks, small refridgerator. Cordless phone by computer. Pick it up, press TALK. (9114367, seven numbers, won't know it's cops until too late.

"Police."

"Hi, Linda? This is Daniel. Listen, I need you to leave a message with Robert for me."

"Sir, this is an emergency line -"

"Yes, I know. Look, I need you to let him know that I won't be able to make it in tomorrow."

"Sir..."

"Why? You really want to know?"

"Sir..."

Inhale, deep. "I won't be in tomorrow, because I'm being held at gunpoint by a raving madwoman, and she's insisting that I take tomorrow off."

Silence.

Sound. Pure sound, louder than any heard before, and a cry of rupture, almost as loud, from lower back, right side, can't pinpoint. Feel phone falling away, all sensation following right after.)

"Stop." Freeze mid-motion. "hold the phone so I can see what you're dialing."

Fuck. Dial Robert's voicemail, then. Wait through the intro message. "Hi, Roger, this is Daniel. I just wanted to let you know that I wwon't be able to make it in towmorrow. I've got (a gun pointed at by back, and its wielder is demanding that I take the day off. I know it sounds a bit odd, but I'll see if I can get you a copy of the police report if I pull through this. Otherwise, I imagine that you'll get to read about it in the papers." Laugh. "Alright, Robert, hopefully I'll see you on Monday." Hang up, put phone back down, turn around. Kali just staring, mouth half-open, still pointing the gun straight at. "Satisfied?"

Keeps staring, shakes head slowly, laughs. "Creative. I hope you realise that you might have just gotten yourself fired."

(Sound.)"It's certainly possible. However, as I told you, I simply don't want to lie to them. I must say, I appreciate the concern; it's a bit more than I'd expect from someone who was pointing a gun at me."

"Fair enough. (To be honest, it's a lot more than I'd expect to be showing for someone I was only moments away from killing."

Sound.) Personally, though, if someone held a gun at my head and forced me to call in to work, I'd expect the rest of their actions to be pretty damn nonsensical, too."

("And how would you know that? Have you ever had a gun held at your head?"

Puts gun up to own temple, back down at again. "Yes."

"A gun that was being held by someone other than yourself, that is."

Furrows her brow, hand trembling. Shakes her head. Holds gun out to be taken. Taken gratefully, pointed at her now, right between eyes.

"Okay," bites lip, I have, yes. Now, give it back."

"You haven't been paying attention, have you? I'm the one holding the gun, noq; a fact which, in my estimation, strips you of the authority to make such demands. (That was pretty fucking stupid of you." Sneer, lunge forward, hand into her throat. "I've always wantedd to kill a stupid bitch like you, and that was a perfect excuse. Now it's self-defense."

"But I was only -"

Sound.) At the moment, I'd even say that such priviledges belong entirely to me. Now. Only a moment ago, you were threatening my life in exactly the way that I now threaten yours. I want you to give me one good reason why I should let you lie. You have only one shot at this, excuse my choice of words, so I recommend that your answer do a rather thorough job of convincing me not to pull this trigger."

("because I wasn't actually planning to do anything like that ot you."

"I owe you nothing."

Sound.) ("Because I really want to fuck you."

"Corpses can be fucked."

Sound.) ("Because it isn't really loaded."

"I suppose, then, that you won't mind my testing that theory."

"Wait!"

Sound.) ("Because you don't believe in 'should'."

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't believe in truth. I don't see how you could possibly believe in should without believing in truth."

"Neither do I. So, what if I don't believe in you?"

Silence.

Sound.) ("Only the good die young. Therefore, I'm too young to die."

"Amusing, but hardly compelling."

Sound.) ("Because this all started as a submissive fantasy. Do you really want to end it by putting yourself in a dominant role?"

"Who says this has to be the endpoint?"

Sound.) ("Because you're a lover, not a killer."

"And all's fair in love and war."

Sound.) ("Becuase, there once was a man from Nantucket
Whose cock was so long, he could -"

Sound.) "Because, I don't think you really want to."

"Good." Gund odwn on desk, next to phone. Hand up to side of her neck. "You had me worried for a minute, there."

Laughs. "Same to you, asshole."

"All's war that ends war.") "Oh, that's essentially what I do expect. What I said is that I would not expect such concern."

"Hey, just because I have a gun aimed at you doesn't mean that I want to hurt you."

"I suppose I can sympathise, seeing that just because you have a gun aimed at me doesn't mean that I want you to hurt me."

"Really? Is that how it works?'

"In this instance, at any rate."

"Oh. Maybe I won't hurt you, then."

"Only maybe?"

"I cannot be held responsible for my actions."

"How's that? You've only had two drinks so far."

"Because I'm not in control of the situation; that's only an illusion. You are, and you know it."

"How perceptive of you. Now, since it seems I won't be at work tomorrow, I believe we have a bottle of scotch to drink. Put the gun down.") a meeting with a consulting firm out of town tomorrow. I apologize for not letting you know earlier, but they kind of caught me off-guard on this. This could be really big news for me, so... All right, I'll see you on Monday." Hang up, turn to Kali. Kate. "Happy?"

"Yeah. It wasn't loaded, jackass.") "Uh, yeah, that is a bit strange. Whatever. Will you at least be able to call in sick tomorrow after you wake up with a nasty hangover?"

"I suppose that really just depends on quite how nasty it is," and knock it back. Sweet, slow burn of scotch.

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