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Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHarold Busssen, private eye, with three sβs is my name: keep it to yourself if you know whatβs good for you.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She was seated across the wooden desk from him taking note of his strange, but not unpleasant look; the plain brown overcoat he wore, his fedora hat, the rotary phone he had on his desk- which she assumed no longer worked. She had never actually used one, but really wanted to try it at least once before leaving this dusty office with the books on the shelf behind him, the lack of a computer, or a cell phone evidently, in fact, the lack of anything that might remind one that they were anywhere near the twenty-first century. Before she had a chance to think about it, she had to ask.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDoes it work?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWhat?β he replied, obviously annoyed. βDoes what work?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYour rotary phone. Does it work?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYes, it works. What a strange question. I thought you were here about your sister or something.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI never knew anyone who had a rotary phone before. Iβm sorry.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThatβs okay. Now, what can I do for you?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β But she had turned away from him and was doing something with her cell phone. After a few seconds, the rotary phone on the desk rang with a hollow, unpleasant choking buzz, like the phone was on its last few days of life.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β The detective held up one finger and said, ββScuse me a momentβ and picked up the receiver.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHello, this is Busssman, with three sβs.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHello,β said the womanβs voice. βItβs just me.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIβm sorry, I donβt recognize the voice.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βMe. You donβt know me yet. I just wanted to see it actually work.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Then he realized the woman on the phone and the one sitting across from him was actually the same person. He placed the receiver back in its cradle, leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands behind his head, his fedora now covering his eyes. He seemed to the woman to be trying to doze off for a second or two. She said nothing for a bit but watched the strange man as she gathered her thoughts.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βActually,β she said. βIβm here to see about a job.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She waited and watched as he stared into his hat, occasionally twitching his nose.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI donβt remember advertising for any job,β he said, pulling forward and with a quick flip of his head forcing the hat back onto his head.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWhat kind of a job was it you were looking for, anyway?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDetective assistant,β she said.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βSo, where did you hear about this so-called job?β he asked, reaching for a pipe he kept on a holder on the corner of his desk: which he took and placed between his lips, without lighting.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βActually, I just thought of it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYou just thought that I might be looking for an assistant detective? Thatβs a little ridiculous, isnβt it?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThatβs what I thought the first time,β she said. βBut then it happened again.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell, have you had any experience in this kind of work?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βTo be honest,β she said, βIβm not sure what all you do here. I just know that I was supposed to come in here to meet you, and I just thought I should ask you for a job.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI see,β he paused. βI didn’t catch your name.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βMelissa, Melissa Smith, with two sβs, not three.β She smiled.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell, Melissa Smith, two sβs, and this first question is going to surprise you, have you ever seen a talking frog?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βOnce, yes, but I may have imagined it. Why the heck are you asking such a stupid question as that?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI have my reasons. Just relax, you came here, remember?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIndeed.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWhat else might qualify you for this job of your own creation?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI donβt know.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell, what are you doing now? Are you working somewhere?β He played with the pipe, placing it first between his lips, and, using his teeth, causing it to bounce up and down, as a child might.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βPlease donβt do that,β Melissa said, after a few seconds. βItβs rather annoying. βAnd, yes, I am working now. Iβm an attorney at one of the largest law firms in the city.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βAn attorney?! Well, why work here? The very most youβll get from me is minimum wage, and probably not that. No benefits, no nothing.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βNevertheless,β she said. βCould I take a look at that hat of yoursβ¦ and the pipe, the pipe too? I just want to look at them for a minute.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThey are both ridiculous, you know?β she continued.β I donβt know why you have them. I think Iβm going to just hold them while we are having this interview.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell, thatβs just odd, but so be it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βLook at you,β she continued. βYou have very nice eyes: why hide them with this stupid hat?And, come on, a pipe…you donβt even smoke.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt gives me something to do with my hands. But, fair enough. Letβs get down to business. Why are you here really?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIβm not really sure. I think I followed someone here. Itβs a little vague. And a little scary to me.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βTell me about it: I think you should,β he said, studying her features. She was a dark- haired woman about his own age, twenty five or so, attractive, obviously smart, a little fidgety, and with an air of distrust about her. But she was a lawyer, so probably expected.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThis is going to sound very strange, but I donβt care.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYes, go on. Iβve heard many strange stories: more than you might imagine.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell, here it is. I followed the Blue Man into your office. I came in here thinking he might be here.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βBlue Man?β he questioned.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYes, the Blue Man. The man I saw as a child. My father, I think.βIt was a dream from when I was a teenager. I saw him, or something that looked like him come through your door and into this room.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHe opened my door and came into this room?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βNot exactly, I think he just came in through the door. Like a ghost, I guess. Iβm not sure. It sounds ridiculous I know. But I know what I saw.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βAnd this happened just now?β he asked.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βNo, Iβm not sure when it happened. I just now decided to look into it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βCould you elaborate a little on this for me? Nothing you are saying is really making much sense to me.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She began to fidget like there was something inside her head, some little beast, some crawling thing with tiny claws.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt hurts to talk about it.β And it is so far away, she wanted to say, something afloat out in the ocean whitecaps in the past. Nobody knows; nobody else spoke, It was all just accepted as part of some plan, by someone, somewhere, written in a book that changes with each reading. βSomething happened to me when I was a child. I never got over it. It has always haunted me. I donβt know what to do about it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She stopped and, still holding the hat and the pipe, put her hands in her lap, appearing suddenly as a child, like someone transported into her own girlhood, returning to herself, the real person, the one she somehow, for reasons no one explained, had to leave behind.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βCan I have my hat back?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYour hat? Why is that so important to you? It makes me think you are just mocking me.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt helps me keep things in perspective,β he said, with a grin.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYouβre an idiot. You should just shut up and let me finish.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βSorry. Sometimes I justβ¦.β he trailed off, forgetting suddenly his point. She knew he immediately regretted speaking. She threw the hat and the pipe at his head, missing him but hitting the small window behind him.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Sometimes, one needs to keep the way clear, with no words or even thoughts to interrupt. Sometimes, the seas are too wide, the winds blow bitter cold and itβs just hard enough. And sometimes, it is all just nonsense and creamed potatoes. She thought about that a moment and smiled inappropriately at the man.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βMy father and my brother died when I was young, maybe three, four. My mother was accused of the killing and went to jail. She didnβt do it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI remember we were walking on the beach,β she continued. βMy mother was holding my hand. It was cold, I can still feel the wind from the ocean, still, smell the salt air. I even remember the salty bitter odor of a dead seagull we stepped over. We went into this abandoned net house at the top of a sand dune. It was a white clapboard hut with a collapsed roof and piles of beach sand pouring in through the door and windows.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β “As we stepped through the door and stood in a shadow; I shivered. It was cold away from the sun. There was a pile of black netting in the middle of the room, looking to me like a mountain, something to play on, to crawl to the top of and look down upon my mother. I remember all that. My motherβs hand was on mine: she squeezed me hard enough that it hurt. I looked up at her and saw that she was watching something at the top of the dark mountain.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt was the Blue Man; he was wrapped around the waist by the black netting, looking like a standing God staring down over us in a black wave. Then I looked closer. I thought he was asleep. His eyes were closed. It was my father, and he was dead.β She stopped, sobbing a little, that small girl again, seeing through those childhood eyes.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βMy mother and I ran out the door onto the sand, I remember stepping on the dead seagull with my bare feet; it reached up with its beak, biting at my foot. Thatβs where my memory ends. Where we went from there, I donβt remember.β She stopped again and looked up at him. βThatβs the Blue Man. I saw him in the hallway outside your office. He looked at me, his eyes were open, I thought he was going to speak, and I knew what he wanted.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWell,β said Busssen. βThat is quite interesting. A serious tale. Something to consider. Where was your brother? You say he was also killed?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYes, that same day: drowned they say, by my mother.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βBut you donβt believe it?β he asked, then leaned over to pick up the pipe and hat, placing the hat back on his head so that it covered his eyes again. The pipe he held over his head, studying it for flaws as if it were a diamond trophy. He began to smile again, glad to have his pipe returned unharmed.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βNo, I am sure she didnβt do those things.β The woman leaned forward, watching him playing like a child with the pipe.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Then, she noticed the small round window behind the man. The curtains were drawn. Melissa stepped behind him, pulled the curtains open, and stared out.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThis is an unusual window,β she said. βIt looks like one you would see in a boat.β She paused, surprised at what she saw.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThis window overlooks the ocean. I never wouldβve thought that.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHow is she supposed to have done it?β the detective asked. βItβs not easy to drown somebodyβ¦especially a woman drowning a man.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThey said she drugged him first: got him drunk. Then she pushed him overboard on a shrimp trawler. How odd, there are three trawlers out there now.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIs anyone standing on any of them? Maybe, it is too far to tell? You know you can tell me the truth?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThere is, there are two of them, a man and a boy it looks like. How odd.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Neither of them spoke again for several minutes as Melissa stared out the window at the boats. She imagined she saw the man and the boy waving. There was the barely audible sound of a bell from the street outside the office. It rang off and on, becoming louder, more distinct. She realized what it was, an ice cream truck was passing on the street below.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ββAn odd place to try to sell ice cream: there are no kids in this neck of the woods,β she thought. She leaned closer to the window, looking down at the top of the truck. It had stopped, but its bell was still ringing.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWhile you are talking, how is she supposed to have done it? Why did she do it? Her own child too and from a boat?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt was like that,β she whispered to herself as she gazed through the small oval window. βItβs like it is being played out again before my eyes.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βWhat was she doing on a trawler anyway? Out in the middle of the ocean? Kind of an unusual place for a family anyway.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βAs I said, she didnβt do it. All that was made up by somebody. It was my brotherβs death that messed things up. He got caught up in the netting.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βLosing your brother must have been tough on your mother.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt killed her in the end.β She heard the ringing of the ice cream truck again; this time becoming fainter as it headed down the street.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt also killed my dad.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThereβs a storm coming up over the ocean. I can see the sheets of rain from here. This is a strange window you have for an office. Round, like a shipβs portal. You can see a long way from here. Over the sea.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThey were letting the net out, just like that,β she said.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βLike that? Like what?β asked Busssen.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βJust like they are doing now on that boat. You can see it through your window.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI donβt see anything.β The detective turned to his pipe again. βYou see a man and a boy on that ship? I can barely even see the ship.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThe fog is moving in. Keep looking. Soon, you wonβt be able to see anything at all.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Thatβs when the bell started ringing again; the ice cream truck was making its way back.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI could use some of that. Would you like some ice cream?β asked the detective.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Then an odd thing caught Melissaβs eye, a shadow of a movement to the left of the man’s desk. βThereβs a door there on that wall,β she said. βWhere does it go?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIt takes you down. Itβs a private entrance.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She walked over and turned the knob: it opened onto a dark stairway. βIsnβt there a light in here? Itβs dark as night.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βSorry, no light in there. It burned out. I never got around to replacing it.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She stepped onto the landing, then started down the stairs, holding fast to the rail. The steps creaked and the whole stairway seemed to wobble under her feet, as if they might at any moment collapse. He followed a few steps behind.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThese stairs arenβt very stable.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βIβm pretty sure nobody ever uses them. You may be the first.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βJust where do they come out anyway?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β He never answered.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDidnβt he even know?β she thought. βThis didnβt look like a place he would find welcoming with his silly hat and pipe.β It made her smile, his hat, and his pipe, the way he looked at it like it was something: something special.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Carefully, one step at the time, she made her way down. There was no door leading out and she assumed they must be approaching some kind of basement, but she couldnβt tell in the darkness. The steps continued to creak and shake as she walked. Then, she realized she was alone. The detective who had been following her was no longer there.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHello,β she called out, βare you still behind me?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β There was no answer, but she could hear someone walking on the stairs, but a long way up, and it sounded like he was walking away from her. But she could hear him breathing; even feeling his breath on her cheek. She paused a little longer and listened as his footsteps faded away and eventually simply stopped. Was he just standing there, waiting for her to speak or something, playing again with his little toy?
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHe is such a child,β she thought. βNo use at all to me.β Just when she had decided to turn back and head up, she caught a glimpse of blue light before her, somewhere in the stairwell below.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βThereβs a light down there,β she shouted, her voice echoing on the brick walls, more to give herself courage than anything else. She knew he wouldnβt answer; yet, she still heard him breathing so loud that even that was echoing. For a moment she heard a tentative heartbeat, then, from somewhere, the plaintive sighing of a child.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She decided to see where the light led, to continue downward on the stairs.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI see something down here. Iβm going to see what it is, are you coming?β she shouted up into the black ceiling above her.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β There was no reply, just the sound of dripping water: it reminded her of blood, and for the first time in this dark stairwell, she was afraid. She stepped slowly downward. Then, something gave way in her hand and she was falling forward. Her hand had slipped, the rusted handrail had given way and she was toppling forward on the stairs.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β In a panic, expecting to land on the hard steps below, she instinctively reached her arms out to cover her head. In the instant she was falling, she spotted the blue light again, and realized it was shimmering, as if underwater. It had to be an illusion.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She was suddenly cold, time slowed to a standstill like she was hanging midair, then a deep blazing, bluish-white flash hit her eyes as she broke the surface of the pool.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ββHeβs such a child, heβll be no help at all. Iβll drown out hereββ she thought again. She was sinking, being sucked down as if in a whirlpool. Even with her eyes closed, the light blazed and swirled inside her head, churning her thoughts, choking her lungs. She was going to die.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β She remembered something.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βMom, do you remember the Blue Man?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β “The Blue Man; you remember that?β her Mom answered. βThat was ages ago; you couldnβt have been more than three.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI remember seeing him in that old net house.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βI thought it was Dad.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDonβt be silly. Why would you think that?β her mother answered, shaking her head in the manner she used to do. Her hair was looking nice, Melissa thought, and she was wearing her gold ring.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βDid you kill him?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHoney, your dadβs not dead: heβs just asleep. And there was no Blue Man; that was just a story he used to tell you.β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βAnd my brother?β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βYou were such a tomboy,β she looked at her; she wasnβt old anymore. She was sitting in her favorite chair again, looking off into the distance, pretending as she used to do that she wasnβt alone. She hadnβt died.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βHeβs such a child,β her mother whispered to herself. βNo help to me at all.β
Zack Taft tells us the following about himself, “Sitting here now, looking out the window onto the bare brick wall of the building next door. (I live in a compound of sorts- no, not a prison, smarty pants). There are several others who live here, I think; sometimes I see signs of there being other people here, scraps of paper, chicken bones, that kind of thing. I guess it could be rats, thoughβ¦and sometimes I hear doors slamming closed, so, who knows? Not really sure how I got here, but I’m pretty sure I must have come willingly.” As this story shows, Zack has quite an imagination and appears to be a fan of hard-boiled detective fiction, although he adds his own special twist.
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