Life, Later (14/?)
14.
Sara left. Good thing too, because I almost bitchslapped her. And that would’ve been wrong, it’s wrong to hit children. Now, when it comes to certain adults, that’s a whole ‘nother thing. Now where did I put that full box of bullets? Another knock on the door. I check my gun, satisfied it’s got a full magazine, put it back into the holster and in a cheery voice bid the visitor to come in. It’s just Curtis.
‘What can I do for you Curtis?’ And please make it snappy, I’ve got places to be, people to maim.
He leans on the closed door, smoothes his thick moustache with a slow thumb and takes me in, in a calculating manner. I wonder how he gets rests of food out of his moustache every time he eats? Does he carry around a tiny moustache comb? Does he have to have a proper moustache bath every night, to keep critters away from growing in there? Can he taste what he ate for breakfast if he chews his moustache in the afternoon? Does it feel like having an armpit on your upper lip, with those springy hairs there always in the way?
‘Maybe it’s what we could do for each other, Inspectora. It could be a mutually beneficial arrangement.’ He grins fetchingly, or he thinks it must be fetchingly, to me it looks like an imitation of that gnome in that movie who keeps leering creepily and saying ‘My precious.’
I casually take out my gun, pull the safety and put it benignly on the counter next to me, on which my arm rests, the hand still over the gun which happens to point at the lecherous gnome in need of a lesson.
‘How old are you now Curtis?’ I ask.
‘Erm… 42.’
’42! Good age. You know, speaking as a doctor, I’d say, if you stopped smoking, started eating healthy food, got in some exercise here and there, managed to sleep 8 hours during the night, instead of trolling through seedy bars looking for a good, loose woman, I mean, looking for the love of your life, you could live to be 70, easily.’ I pick up the gun and start twirling it around a finger, playfully, not threateningly at all, and continue.
‘And… you could actually live another day in the hope of reaching 43 if you stopped hitting on me, so poorly, I might add.’ I can hear him gulp from where I’m sitting. I point the gun at him, aiming with one eye closed.
‘You know, I’m sure you’re a lucky bastard and would probably survive four shots. But what about the fifth or the sixth? Hmm… you see I’ve got plenty of bullets and nothing but time on my hands. What do ya say, buddy?’
‘Madre mia!’
‘Oh, she’s not here. It’s just you and me.’
‘Inspectora, I never meant any disrespect, I only…’ Rushes out of his moustached mouth.
‘Sure, no disrespect at all. Cut the crap. Get out of here, find a quiet corner and think about what you’ve done, and maybe you’ll figure out what respect really is and what it means respecting a woman - then maybe you’ll have more luck with them too. Comprende?’
‘Si.’ He squeaks and flies out the door.
I put back the safety, satisfied. Another good deed for the day.
***
I walk through the bullpen looking for my next victim. Getting kinda distracted in my search by all the whispering going on around me and the whistling and all kinds of strapping young agents that I never noticed before, just happening to cross my path, some stopping to ask how I am and if they could be of some assistance. I asked a couple of them if they’d seen Agente Miranda, none could help me out, having not seen her.
‘Silvia!’ I turn around towards my father coming down the stairs.
‘Hola, papa.’
‘Hola, hija.’ He kisses my cheek and puts an arm around me steering me to a quieter corner of the bullpen, with less traffic. ‘Good news, honey!’
‘Yes?’ I ask excited. ‘Do YOU know where Pepa is, I can’t seem to find her and…’
‘No, why would I know where Maria Jose is? What’s she got to do with anything?!’ He grumbles. ‘You remember Senor Pinata, from the 5th Precinct?’ If I remember the little, bald, beady-eyed letch that used to come into my father’s home and make googly eyes at his daughter the second he turned around, that nonstarter that probably has pea sized cojones, and therefore feels the need to boost his non-existent manhood by always talking interminably about all the gory busts or missions he was involved in, vividly describing the couple of shootings he was in and how he nailed the bad guys with well placed shots, and how the blood was flowing from his incapacitated victims, pooling around them, all in the name of the King and Country and the Spanish people, like a manic butcher chopping away at the dead flesh and getting a hard-on just thinking about blood. That insane troll? Yeah, I remember him, with distaste.
My father continues, clueless. ‘He just called to commend you. Apparently he heard on the Police grapevine that you are awesome. He said you must do a very good job indeed, what with everybody talking about you. He said you would be just perfect for his eldest son, who just got through a nasty divorce from a ‘frigid bitch’, as he said. Don’t know what he meant by that. Anyway, you can ask him more about it tomorrow night at dinner. We made reservations for the two of you at a restaurant. He’ll come and pick you up at 7.’ His happy smile falters just a little as he looks into my stormy eyes. ‘Now, Silvia, calm down. I know how you hate me making decisions for you. But this guy sounds just too good to be true, I really think you should give him a chance. And besides, you know it’ll get harder and harder to find good dates once you start showing. Unfortunately some guys have a problem with dating a pregnant woman and becoming an instant father to children that aren’t their own. This guy already is impressed with you and really, really wants to get to know you, so that’s half the battle won, right, hija? So tomorrow you’ll make yourself pretty and…’
I think the clothes rack falling down with a resonating sound and the ferocious growl from one tall brunette drowned completely my own growl.
‘Miranda! What is this nonsense?!’ He shouts at the foreboding form lumbering towards us. Uh oh! Damage control needed, NOW!
‘Pepa! I’ve been looking for you!’ I grab her arm and turn her around forcefully, away from my father and drag her with me. She resists and I can see she wants nothing more than to get back to my father and tell him where exactly he can shove my suitor. We make it around a corner by the time she manages to wrench her arm out of my steely hold. Her nostrils are flaring like that of an angry bull and she puffs her cheeks in exasperation. I could kiss her, she’s so cute! - all angry and possessive and passionate.
‘No way in hell, pelirroja. You hear me? I’ll castrate that sucker and his meddling father before he comes within ten feet of you!’ Hmm… not much too castrate probably, that would be an easy and fast job, honey. I amuse myself in my mind with the thought.
‘You will not, I repeat, YOU WILL NOT, under any circumstances go on a date with that fucker! You hear me? I FORBID IT.’
You WHAT? Nobody forbids Silvia Castro anything! I sigh disappointed. You just had to go and mess it up! Here I was thinking how cute you were and that I’d want nothing more than to kiss you until you’re cross-eyed and you had to play Neanderthal lover! Stupid. Now I’ll just have to teach you another lesson. Why do I have to be the only sensible, adult, rational person in this fucking nursery? Is this the cross I must bear my entire life?
‘You WHAT?’ I bark. ‘You FORBID me? What? Am I your naughty puppy that you forbid to pee on the carpet?’ I spit out. ‘Where do you get off, huh? Who do you think you are?’
‘Buh… but Silvia…’
‘Don’t ‘But Silvia’ me! First you get me all high and leave me dry, almost puking on me, then I get a reputation as the precinct slut because you had to try to make time with me in the most exposed office in the precinct - and sure, you’re the stud and I’m the slut! - then you ogle me when you should’ve done some fast explaining and NOW you forbid me?! Get real!’ I turn, leaving her there slack-jawed and give her my parting shot. ‘Now I must go. Gotta run before the shops close, have some shopping to do. I need a new dress for my date tomorrow. Bye-bye.’
***
Sara left. Good thing too, because I almost bitchslapped her. And that would’ve been wrong, it’s wrong to hit children. Now, when it comes to certain adults, that’s a whole ‘nother thing. Now where did I put that full box of bullets? Another knock on the door. I check my gun, satisfied it’s got a full magazine, put it back into the holster and in a cheery voice bid the visitor to come in. It’s just Curtis.
‘What can I do for you Curtis?’ And please make it snappy, I’ve got places to be, people to maim.
He leans on the closed door, smoothes his thick moustache with a slow thumb and takes me in, in a calculating manner. I wonder how he gets rests of food out of his moustache every time he eats? Does he carry around a tiny moustache comb? Does he have to have a proper moustache bath every night, to keep critters away from growing in there? Can he taste what he ate for breakfast if he chews his moustache in the afternoon? Does it feel like having an armpit on your upper lip, with those springy hairs there always in the way?
‘Maybe it’s what we could do for each other, Inspectora. It could be a mutually beneficial arrangement.’ He grins fetchingly, or he thinks it must be fetchingly, to me it looks like an imitation of that gnome in that movie who keeps leering creepily and saying ‘My precious.’
I casually take out my gun, pull the safety and put it benignly on the counter next to me, on which my arm rests, the hand still over the gun which happens to point at the lecherous gnome in need of a lesson.
‘How old are you now Curtis?’ I ask.
‘Erm… 42.’
’42! Good age. You know, speaking as a doctor, I’d say, if you stopped smoking, started eating healthy food, got in some exercise here and there, managed to sleep 8 hours during the night, instead of trolling through seedy bars looking for a good, loose woman, I mean, looking for the love of your life, you could live to be 70, easily.’ I pick up the gun and start twirling it around a finger, playfully, not threateningly at all, and continue.
‘And… you could actually live another day in the hope of reaching 43 if you stopped hitting on me, so poorly, I might add.’ I can hear him gulp from where I’m sitting. I point the gun at him, aiming with one eye closed.
‘You know, I’m sure you’re a lucky bastard and would probably survive four shots. But what about the fifth or the sixth? Hmm… you see I’ve got plenty of bullets and nothing but time on my hands. What do ya say, buddy?’
‘Madre mia!’
‘Oh, she’s not here. It’s just you and me.’
‘Inspectora, I never meant any disrespect, I only…’ Rushes out of his moustached mouth.
‘Sure, no disrespect at all. Cut the crap. Get out of here, find a quiet corner and think about what you’ve done, and maybe you’ll figure out what respect really is and what it means respecting a woman - then maybe you’ll have more luck with them too. Comprende?’
‘Si.’ He squeaks and flies out the door.
I put back the safety, satisfied. Another good deed for the day.
***
I walk through the bullpen looking for my next victim. Getting kinda distracted in my search by all the whispering going on around me and the whistling and all kinds of strapping young agents that I never noticed before, just happening to cross my path, some stopping to ask how I am and if they could be of some assistance. I asked a couple of them if they’d seen Agente Miranda, none could help me out, having not seen her.
‘Silvia!’ I turn around towards my father coming down the stairs.
‘Hola, papa.’
‘Hola, hija.’ He kisses my cheek and puts an arm around me steering me to a quieter corner of the bullpen, with less traffic. ‘Good news, honey!’
‘Yes?’ I ask excited. ‘Do YOU know where Pepa is, I can’t seem to find her and…’
‘No, why would I know where Maria Jose is? What’s she got to do with anything?!’ He grumbles. ‘You remember Senor Pinata, from the 5th Precinct?’ If I remember the little, bald, beady-eyed letch that used to come into my father’s home and make googly eyes at his daughter the second he turned around, that nonstarter that probably has pea sized cojones, and therefore feels the need to boost his non-existent manhood by always talking interminably about all the gory busts or missions he was involved in, vividly describing the couple of shootings he was in and how he nailed the bad guys with well placed shots, and how the blood was flowing from his incapacitated victims, pooling around them, all in the name of the King and Country and the Spanish people, like a manic butcher chopping away at the dead flesh and getting a hard-on just thinking about blood. That insane troll? Yeah, I remember him, with distaste.
My father continues, clueless. ‘He just called to commend you. Apparently he heard on the Police grapevine that you are awesome. He said you must do a very good job indeed, what with everybody talking about you. He said you would be just perfect for his eldest son, who just got through a nasty divorce from a ‘frigid bitch’, as he said. Don’t know what he meant by that. Anyway, you can ask him more about it tomorrow night at dinner. We made reservations for the two of you at a restaurant. He’ll come and pick you up at 7.’ His happy smile falters just a little as he looks into my stormy eyes. ‘Now, Silvia, calm down. I know how you hate me making decisions for you. But this guy sounds just too good to be true, I really think you should give him a chance. And besides, you know it’ll get harder and harder to find good dates once you start showing. Unfortunately some guys have a problem with dating a pregnant woman and becoming an instant father to children that aren’t their own. This guy already is impressed with you and really, really wants to get to know you, so that’s half the battle won, right, hija? So tomorrow you’ll make yourself pretty and…’
I think the clothes rack falling down with a resonating sound and the ferocious growl from one tall brunette drowned completely my own growl.
‘Miranda! What is this nonsense?!’ He shouts at the foreboding form lumbering towards us. Uh oh! Damage control needed, NOW!
‘Pepa! I’ve been looking for you!’ I grab her arm and turn her around forcefully, away from my father and drag her with me. She resists and I can see she wants nothing more than to get back to my father and tell him where exactly he can shove my suitor. We make it around a corner by the time she manages to wrench her arm out of my steely hold. Her nostrils are flaring like that of an angry bull and she puffs her cheeks in exasperation. I could kiss her, she’s so cute! - all angry and possessive and passionate.
‘No way in hell, pelirroja. You hear me? I’ll castrate that sucker and his meddling father before he comes within ten feet of you!’ Hmm… not much too castrate probably, that would be an easy and fast job, honey. I amuse myself in my mind with the thought.
‘You will not, I repeat, YOU WILL NOT, under any circumstances go on a date with that fucker! You hear me? I FORBID IT.’
You WHAT? Nobody forbids Silvia Castro anything! I sigh disappointed. You just had to go and mess it up! Here I was thinking how cute you were and that I’d want nothing more than to kiss you until you’re cross-eyed and you had to play Neanderthal lover! Stupid. Now I’ll just have to teach you another lesson. Why do I have to be the only sensible, adult, rational person in this fucking nursery? Is this the cross I must bear my entire life?
‘You WHAT?’ I bark. ‘You FORBID me? What? Am I your naughty puppy that you forbid to pee on the carpet?’ I spit out. ‘Where do you get off, huh? Who do you think you are?’
‘Buh… but Silvia…’
‘Don’t ‘But Silvia’ me! First you get me all high and leave me dry, almost puking on me, then I get a reputation as the precinct slut because you had to try to make time with me in the most exposed office in the precinct - and sure, you’re the stud and I’m the slut! - then you ogle me when you should’ve done some fast explaining and NOW you forbid me?! Get real!’ I turn, leaving her there slack-jawed and give her my parting shot. ‘Now I must go. Gotta run before the shops close, have some shopping to do. I need a new dress for my date tomorrow. Bye-bye.’
***