One.
It's a jaggedly cold night and all the lights of the city are sharp as stars. I let the blinds snap shut. I don't want Candy to wake up. We have a lot to do tomorrow. She's a good girl, Candy. Or is she? I'm still investigating this, every day. You see, some cases have a start and a finish. Some cases, you come into them and you leave them a changed man, but you leave them. But I -- I have problems putting 'em down. It's not that I'm a bad detective. I may be young, but I know what I'm doing. The city saw to that. Thing is, I can finish a case on paper, and they can slip Candy the money in a box of cream cheese cupcakes, and I can go up on the roof and smoke until my heart turns black with satisfaction, but I'll never really be done. And I like it like that.
You say I'll get tired of it when I get older. You say there's more to life than this lonely existence. You say my quest is futile, that I should eat something, that I should stop reading so many books, that I should take my vitamins. You're wrong. (Except about the vitamins.)
I'm the Boy Detective. I had a name, but now it isn't important. That's who I am. I have two ongoing cases I'm willing to tell you about. One is to find the final resting place of my mother; failing that, to find her herself. The other is to figure out Candy. (She's not my girl, by the way. People always make that mistake.) We grew up together, see, and we left that hole in the ground for bigger things because we're made for bigger things. I know what I'm made for, but I don't know about her.
She's not my girl and I'm an enlightened man, but I still feel bad about us having to shack up in the office. The heater doesn't work so great, and you can hear the street. She has the couch, I have the desk. The Boy Detective doesn't sleep. The Boy Detective doesn't eat. But that doesn't mean I don't care about other people. Candy's tough, though, and I'm glad she's here. I want her to get as much sleep as she can.
We've got a big day ahead of us.
You say I'll get tired of it when I get older. You say there's more to life than this lonely existence. You say my quest is futile, that I should eat something, that I should stop reading so many books, that I should take my vitamins. You're wrong. (Except about the vitamins.)
I'm the Boy Detective. I had a name, but now it isn't important. That's who I am. I have two ongoing cases I'm willing to tell you about. One is to find the final resting place of my mother; failing that, to find her herself. The other is to figure out Candy. (She's not my girl, by the way. People always make that mistake.) We grew up together, see, and we left that hole in the ground for bigger things because we're made for bigger things. I know what I'm made for, but I don't know about her.
She's not my girl and I'm an enlightened man, but I still feel bad about us having to shack up in the office. The heater doesn't work so great, and you can hear the street. She has the couch, I have the desk. The Boy Detective doesn't sleep. The Boy Detective doesn't eat. But that doesn't mean I don't care about other people. Candy's tough, though, and I'm glad she's here. I want her to get as much sleep as she can.
We've got a big day ahead of us.