was real.
As real as you are in the room with me right now. Do you think I would
have? Do you think I would have if I hadn’t known they were real? That
would have been crazy.
DR YEOH: What did you do next?
SALLY: She had a big plaster cat on the mantle. I never liked it. I
beat her skull in with it and killed the worms. I know it worked because
they were all gone after that.
DR YEOH: How did that make you feel?
SALLY: Better.
Session #542 ends.
4. The Game of Death
Fixx saw the taxi-sampan come around the corner on to Decatur Street and
stepped lightly from the balcony and on to the prow of the chugging
boat. The aged fellow at the helm peered up at him from under a woollen
cap, his sunken brown face giving Fixx a sour look in return.
“Give a man a ride?” he asked, as the sampan bobbed in the wake of an
airboat.
The sulky driver jerked his thumb at the people in the passenger
compartment and set off again. Fixx swung himself over the windscreen
and joined the surprised family of tourists in the back. Father, mother,
two boys. Dad was already fumbling for a Day-Glo taser on his belt, Mom
shocked by the sudden arrival of a large black man in a ballistic
kevleather long coat. The boys watched, wide-eyed.
He took off his espex and gave the lady a winning smile. “Joshua Fixx,
ma’am. My most profuse apologies for taking advantage of your boat.” He
kissed the back of her hand with gentle reverence.
Dad had the taser in his fist now. “Just a darn minute, pal! This is our
taxi!”
A SoCal accent. Fixx had the measure of these folks in a heartbeat; some
midlevel whitebread splashing out on a transcontinental vacation to shut
up his bored wife and whiny kids, venturing out from the west coast with
little or no idea how the rest of the You Ess of Ay actually worked
beyond the walls of their gated community in the burbs.
“How are you liking Newer Orleans?” He said the name of the city like
N’Arlens,
because that was how the touristas expected it. “She’s a
peach, ain’t she?” He took in the riverine streets with a casual
gesture, removing a twig from his sleeve. In the distance, a French horn
was razzing the sky at a rooftop cafe deep in the Vieux Carre.
Dad brandished the taser like it was a holy cross against a vampire.
“Don’t make me use this!”
“Ah, hush yourself now.” Fixx snapped the twig right under Dad’s nose
and the man went slack, head lolling forward. A line of drool emerged
from his lips along with a low snore. Fixx gave Mom an apologetic look
and threw the taser into the water as the taxi turned on to Canal
Street. She clucked and flailed over her husband, unable to wake him.
“Hey mister,” said one of the boys, the elder of the two. “Did you kill
my dad?” He wore a
Subburb Sux
screen-T with Mall-ratz gangcult
colours.
The other boy elbowed his brother in the ribs. “Doofus! He’s put him
out, is all.” The younger one had a sunscreen jumpsuit and ghille hat.
Fixx smiled thinly. “Sorry about that. He’ll come around soon.”
“How’d you do that with a piece of wood?”
“Ask a favour of nature, boy. Sometimes she’ll help you.”
The eldest folded his arms. “I know what it is. It’s that voodoo. He’s a
voo-doo man. He’s got what they call them loo-ahs, or something.”
“Loas,” said Fixx absently.
“Naw,” said the younger, and pointed at Fixx’s chest. “He’s an op. I
seen his guns when he got on. ”The kid shuffled forward in a
conspiratorial manner. “You got a pair of SunKing 10-mil longslides in a
cross belt, there.”
“Good eye.”
A smug grin. “I wanna be a sanctioned operative one day. Like that
Timberlake guy on ZeeBeeCee.”
“He’s not a real op.” said the other boy, “He just plays one on TV.”
“Don’t care.” The kid gave Fixx a long look. “You do interdicts?
Takedowns? Highway work?”
“I go where fate sends me.”
The elder sneered. “I don’t like it here. I wanna go back to Oxnard.”
Fixx
As real as you are in the room with me right now. Do you think I would
have? Do you think I would have if I hadn’t known they were real? That
would have been crazy.
DR YEOH: What did you do next?
SALLY: She had a big plaster cat on the mantle. I never liked it. I
beat her skull in with it and killed the worms. I know it worked because
they were all gone after that.
DR YEOH: How did that make you feel?
SALLY: Better.
Session #542 ends.
4. The Game of Death
Fixx saw the taxi-sampan come around the corner on to Decatur Street and
stepped lightly from the balcony and on to the prow of the chugging
boat. The aged fellow at the helm peered up at him from under a woollen
cap, his sunken brown face giving Fixx a sour look in return.
“Give a man a ride?” he asked, as the sampan bobbed in the wake of an
airboat.
The sulky driver jerked his thumb at the people in the passenger
compartment and set off again. Fixx swung himself over the windscreen
and joined the surprised family of tourists in the back. Father, mother,
two boys. Dad was already fumbling for a Day-Glo taser on his belt, Mom
shocked by the sudden arrival of a large black man in a ballistic
kevleather long coat. The boys watched, wide-eyed.
He took off his espex and gave the lady a winning smile. “Joshua Fixx,
ma’am. My most profuse apologies for taking advantage of your boat.” He
kissed the back of her hand with gentle reverence.
Dad had the taser in his fist now. “Just a darn minute, pal! This is our
taxi!”
A SoCal accent. Fixx had the measure of these folks in a heartbeat; some
midlevel whitebread splashing out on a transcontinental vacation to shut
up his bored wife and whiny kids, venturing out from the west coast with
little or no idea how the rest of the You Ess of Ay actually worked
beyond the walls of their gated community in the burbs.
“How are you liking Newer Orleans?” He said the name of the city like
N’Arlens,
because that was how the touristas expected it. “She’s a
peach, ain’t she?” He took in the riverine streets with a casual
gesture, removing a twig from his sleeve. In the distance, a French horn
was razzing the sky at a rooftop cafe deep in the Vieux Carre.
Dad brandished the taser like it was a holy cross against a vampire.
“Don’t make me use this!”
“Ah, hush yourself now.” Fixx snapped the twig right under Dad’s nose
and the man went slack, head lolling forward. A line of drool emerged
from his lips along with a low snore. Fixx gave Mom an apologetic look
and threw the taser into the water as the taxi turned on to Canal
Street. She clucked and flailed over her husband, unable to wake him.
“Hey mister,” said one of the boys, the elder of the two. “Did you kill
my dad?” He wore a
Subburb Sux
screen-T with Mall-ratz gangcult
colours.
The other boy elbowed his brother in the ribs. “Doofus! He’s put him
out, is all.” The younger one had a sunscreen jumpsuit and ghille hat.
Fixx smiled thinly. “Sorry about that. He’ll come around soon.”
“How’d you do that with a piece of wood?”
“Ask a favour of nature, boy. Sometimes she’ll help you.”
The eldest folded his arms. “I know what it is. It’s that voodoo. He’s a
voo-doo man. He’s got what they call them loo-ahs, or something.”
“Loas,” said Fixx absently.
“Naw,” said the younger, and pointed at Fixx’s chest. “He’s an op. I
seen his guns when he got on. ”The kid shuffled forward in a
conspiratorial manner. “You got a pair of SunKing 10-mil longslides in a
cross belt, there.”
“Good eye.”
A smug grin. “I wanna be a sanctioned operative one day. Like that
Timberlake guy on ZeeBeeCee.”
“He’s not a real op.” said the other boy, “He just plays one on TV.”
“Don’t care.” The kid gave Fixx a long look. “You do interdicts?
Takedowns? Highway work?”
“I go where fate sends me.”
The elder sneered. “I don’t like it here. I wanna go back to Oxnard.”
Fixx
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