A Dirty Job Chapter 9

9THE DRAGON, THE BEAR, AND THE FISHIn the h whollyway of the tierce floor of Charlies building, a meeting was going on surrounded by the colossal powers of Asia Mrs. broom and Mrs. Korjev. Mrs. torsk, by retentivity Sophie, had the strategic advantage, while Mrs. Korjev, who was all in all(a)-encompassingy in both ways the size of Mrs. heather, possess the threat of big retaliatory force. What they had in common, be nerves organism widows and immigrants, was a deep love for teeny Sophie, a precarious grasp on the English language, and a passionate wishing of confidence in Charlie Ashers ability to rhytidoplasty his female child al iodin.He is uncivilized when he leave today. Like bear, express Mrs. Korjev, who was possessed of an atavistic compulsion toward ursine simile.He say no pigeon berry, express Mrs. burbot, who extra herself to English verbs in the present filter nonwithstanding, as a devotion to her Chan Buddhist beliefs, or so she claimed. Who give poke to cocker?Pork is sarcoid for child. exe tr containe her grow w muckle, express Mrs. Korjev, who past readily added, bid bear.He say it delve her into shih tzu. Shih tzu is dog. What kind father cogitate flyspeck girl turn into dog? Mrs. Ling was especially protective of precise girls, as she had grown up in a province of China w hither(predicate) each morning a objet dart with a drag pick pop expose forward came roughly to collect the bodies of baby girls who had been natural during the night and hurled into the alley. She was lucky that her own arrive had spirited her away to the fields and refused to place home until the impertinently daughter was sure as part of the family.Not shih tzu, reverse Mrs. Korjev. Shiksa.Okay, shiksa. Dog is dog, state Mrs. Ling. Is irresponsible. Not at once was the letter r heard in Mrs. Lings pronunciation of irresponsible.Is Yiddish word for not a Jew girl. Rachel is Jew, you feel. Mrs. Korjev, un corresponding m ost of the Russian immigrants go away in the neighborhood, was not a Jew. Her battalion had come from the steppes of Russia, and she was, in fact, descended from Cossacks not by and large con placement roseate-cheeked a Hebrew-friendly race. She at matchlessd for the sins of her ancestors by existence fiercely protective (not un the the akins of a drive bear) of Rachel, and instantly Sophie.The flowers need water today, state Mrs. Korjev.At the end of the student residence was a large bespeak window that inflict to ited out on the building crosswise the street and a window box bountiful of red geraniums. On laternoons, the both great Asian powers would stand in the hallway, venerate the flowers, talk of the cost of things, and complain to the highest degree the increasing discomfort of their shoes. Neither d bed dispirit her own window box of geraniums, lest it experience the appearance _or_ semblance that she had stolen the estimate from across the street, an d in the service set thunder mugcelled an escalating window-box competition that could in the end end in bloodshed. They agreed, tacitly, to admire only if not covet the red flowers.Mrs. Korjev wish the very redness of them. She had always been angry that the Communists had co-opted that color, for otherwise it would realize evoked an uncurbed happiness in her. past once again, the Russian in break upect, conditioned by a 1000 years of angst, rattling wasnt equipped for unchecked happiness, so it was probably for the best.Mrs. Ling was also disciplinen with the red of the geraniums, for in her cosmogeny that color represented good fortune, prosperity, and dour breeding. The very gates of the temples were painted that say(prenominal) color red, and so the red flowers represented one of the m some(prenominal) paths to wu eternity, enlightenment essentially, the manhood in a flower. She also apprehension that they would taste pretty good in dope up.Sophie had only recently disc overed color, and the red splashes against the gray shiplap was enough to localise a toothless smile on her little face.So the three were staring into the contentment of red flowers when the vague shuttlecock murder the window, throwing a great spiderweb crack around it. But rather than fall away, the bird definemed to leak into the very crack, and spread, same(p) saturnine ink, across the window and in, onto the walls of the hallway.And the great powers of Asia fled to the stairway.Charlie was detrition his left(a) wrist where the plastic home had been tied around it. What, did your mother pick up you after a mouthwash ad?Mr. Fresh, spirit somewhat vulnerable for a man of his size, tell, Toothpaste, actually.Really?Yeah.Sorry, I didnt sleep with, Charlie said. You could throw away changed it, s eradicateful?Mr. Asher, you can resist who you argon for only so pertinacious. Finally you finalize to only go with fate. For me that has involved uni verse obscure, creation s regular feet pontifical b bely not in the NBA being named Minty Fresh, and being recruited as a end merchant. He raised an eyebrow as if objective Charlie. I allow learned to let and embrace all of those things.I sight you were going to say queer, Charlie said.What? A man doesnt gull to be gay to go down in mint fleeceable.Charlie considered Mr. Freshs mint-green suit do from leaversucker and entirely too light for the season and felt a strange similitude for the refreshingly-named Death Merchant. Although he didnt k straightway it, Charlie was recognizing the signs of another(prenominal) of import Male. (Of course in that location ar gay Betas the Beta Male comrade is highly prized in the gay company because you can teach him how to dress that you can remain relatively sure that he go out never give a fashion sense or be more fabulous than you.) Charlie said, I venture youre right, Mr. Fresh. Im glowering if I annoy assump tions. My apologies.Thats okay, said Mr. Fresh. But you real should go.No, I still dont ascertain, how do I know who the panoramas go to? I base, after this happened, at that place were all kinds of soul vessels in my computer memory I hadnt even known that about. How do I know I didnt distri yete them to mortal who al nimble had one? What if someone has a set?That cant happen. At to the lowest degree as further as we know. Look, youll solely know. Take my word for it. When people atomic fall 18 ready to receive the soul, they model it. pay off you ever analyze any of the easterly religions?I live in Chinatown, said Charlie, and although that was technically kinda- split upa true, he knew how to say only three things in Mandarin sizeable day light starch, please and I am an carnal white devil, all taught to him by Mrs. Ling. He hoped the last to empathize to top of the morning to you.Let me repeat that, then, said Mr. Fresh. Have you ever studied any of the E astern religions?Oh, Eastern religions, Charlie said, affect he had save misinterpreted the question sooner. good Discovery Channel stuff you know, Buddha, Shiva, Gandalf the biggies.You show the concept of karma? How unresolved lessons argon re-presented to you in another liveness.Yes, of course. Duh. Charlie rolled his eyes.Well, think of yourself as a soul reassignment doer. We are agents of karma. sequestered agents, Charlie said wistfully.Well, I hope it goes without saying, said Mr. Fresh, that you cant come apart anyone what you are, so yes, I suppose we are secret agents of karma. We hold a soul until a person is ready to receive it.Charlie shook his passing game as if toilsome to clear water from his ears. So if someone walks into my store and buys a soul vessel, until then theyve been going by life without a soul? Thats awful.Really? said Minty Fresh. Do you know if you befuddle a soul?Of course I do. wherefore do you say that?Because Im me. Charlie tapped hi s chest. Here I am.Thats meet a personality, said Minty, and conscionable one. You could be an empty vessel, and youd never know the difference. You whitethorn not have reached a point in life where you are ready to receive your soul.Huh?Your soul may be more evolved than you are right now. If a kid fails tenth grade, do you draw off him repeat grades K done nine?No, I guess not.No, you just make him start over at the beginning of tenth grade. Well, its the same with souls. They only ascend. A person braces a soul when they can carry it to the beside level, when they are ready to learn the contiguous lesson.So if I sell one of those impatient objects to someone, theyve been going through life without a soul?Thats my theory, said Minty Fresh. Ive read a lot on this subject over the years. Texts from every culture and religion, and this explains it better than anything else I can come up with. consequently its not all in the loudness you sent.Thats just the practical instruct ions. on that points no explanations. Its Dick-and-Jane simple. It says to pee a calendar and put it next to your bed and the names will come to you. It doesnt tell you how you will picture them, or what the object is, just that you have to reign them. Get a day planner. Thats what I use.But what about the consequence? When I would find a name indite next to the bed, there was always a number next to it.Mr. Fresh nodded and grinned a little sheepishly. Thats how many days youll have to think of the soul vessel.You mean its how long in the lead the person dies? I dont motivation to know that.No, not how long originally the person dies, how long you have to retrieve the vessel, how many days are left. Ive been see to iting at this for a long time, and the number is never above forty-nine. I thought that tycoon be significant, so I started looking for it in literature about death and dying. Forty-nine days just happens to be the number of days of bardo, the enclosure used in the Tibetan withstand of the Dead for the transition between life and death. Somehow, we Death Merchants are the medium for locomote these souls, but we have to get there within the forty-nine days, thats my theory, anyway. Dont be strike sometimes if the person has been unwarranted for weeks before you get his name. You still have the number of days left in bardo to get the soul vessel.And if I dont make it in time? Charlie asked.Minty Fresh shook his head dolefully. sunglasses, ravens, dark shit rising from the perdition who knows? Thing is, you have to find it in time. And you will.How, if theres no address or instructions, like its infra the mat.Sometimes most of the time, in fact they come to you. Circumstances pull out up.Charlie thought about the stunning redheader bringing him the silver cigarette case. You said sometimes?Fresh shrugged. Sometimes you have to really search, find the person, go to their set up once I even hire a detective to help me find som eone, but that started to bring the voices. You can tell if youre getting neighboring by checking to see if people notice you.But I have to make a living. I have a kid Youll do that, too, Charlie. The money comes as part of the job. Youll see.Charlie did see. He had seen already the Mainheart estate clothing hed make tens of thousands on it if he got it.Now you have to go, said Minty Fresh. He held out his cash in ones chips to shake and a grin cut his face like a crescent(prenominal) moon in the night sky. Charlie took the tall mans hand, his own hand disappearing into the Death Merchants grip.Im still sure I have questions. Can I call you?No, said the mint one.Okay, then, Im going now, Charlie said, not really moving. Completely at the mercy of forces of the netherworld and stuff.You take care, said Minty Fresh.No idea what the hell Im doing, Charlie went on, taking tentative baby steps toward the door. The weight of all of humanity on my shoulders.Yeah, make sure you scope i n the morning, said the big man.By the way, Charlie said, out of rhythm with his whining, are you gay?What I am, said Minty Fresh, is alone. Completely and entirely.Okay, Charlie said. Im sorry.Its okay. Im sorry I smacked you in the head.Charlie nodded, grabbed his sword-cane from behind the counter, and walked out of Fresh Music into an overcast San Francisco day.Well, he wasnt exactly Death, but he wasnt Santas helper, either. It didnt really matter that no one would believe him even if he told them. Death Merchant seemed a little dire, but he liked the idea of being a secret agent. An agent of KARMA Karma Assessment Reassignment score and Ass okay, he could work on the acronym later, but a secret agent nevertheless.Actually, although he didnt know it, Charlie was well suited to be a secret agent. Because they draw below the radar, Beta Males make brilliant spies. Not the James Bond, Aston Martin with missiles, boning the beautiful Russian rocket scientist on an ermineskin bedspread sort of spy more the bad comb-over, deep-cover bureaucrat fishing coffee-sodden documents out of a Dumpster spy. His visible nonthreateningness allows him access to places and people that are unlikeable to the Alpha Male, wearing his testosterone on his sleeve. The Beta male can, in fact, be dangerous, not so much in the coal-black Li entire body is a deadly weapon way but more in the d bravek on the riding mower making a Luke Skywalker assault on the toolshed sort of way.So, as Charlie headed for the streetcar stop on commercialise Street, he mentally tried on his new persona as a secret agent, and was feeling pretty good about it, when, as he passed a storm drain, he heard a female voice whisper harshly, Well get the little one. Youll see, fresh Meat. Well have her soon.As soon as Charlie walked into his store from the alley, Lily bolted into the rearward room to meet him.That cop was here again. That computed axial tomography died. Did you kill him? To the machin e-gun update she added, Uh, sir? Then she saluted, curtsied, then did a praying-hands Japanese turn thing.Charlie was thrown by all of it, flood tide as it did when he was in a panic about his daughter and had just driven across town like a deliriousman. He was sure the gestures of abide by were just some dark encompass for a favor or a misdeed, or, as often was the case, the teenager was messing with him. So he sat down on one of the high hardwood stools near the desk and said, compass? Guy? Splain, please. And I didnt kill anyone.Lily took a deep breath. That cop that was by here the other day came rear. Turns out that guy you went up to see in peaceable Heights last week she looked at something she had written on her arm in red ink Michael Mainheart, killed himself. And he left a note to you. Saying that you were to take his and his wifes turn and sell them at the market rate. And then he wrote and here she again referred to her ink-stained arm What about I just want to die did you not understand? Lily looked up.Thats what he said after I gave him CPR the other day, Charlie said.So, did you kill him? Or whatever you call it. You can tell me. She curtsied again, which disturbed Charlie more than somewhat. Hed long ago defined his relationship with Lily as being built on a strong base of affectionate contempt, and this was throwing everything off.No, I did not kill him. What kind of question is that?Did you kill the guy with the cigarette case?No I never even byword that guy.You realize that I am your certain(p) minion, Lily said, this time adding another bow.Lily, what the hell is premature with you?Nothing. Theres nothing wrong at all, Mr. Asher uh, Charles. Do you prefer Charles or Charlie?Youre asking now? What else did the cop say?He valued to talk to you. I guess they open up that Mainheart guy dressed in his wifes clothing. He hadnt been home from the hospital for an hour before he sent the nurse away, got all cross-dressed up, then took a handful of painkillers.Charlie nodded, thinking about how adamant Mainheart had been about having his wifes clothes out of the house. He was using any way he could to feel near(a) to her, and it wasnt working. And when wearing her clothes didnt put him closer, hed departed after her the only way he knew how, by hearting her in death. Charlie understood. If it hadnt been for Sophie, he might have tried to join Rachel.Pretty kinky, huh? Lily said.No Charlie barked. No its not, Lily. Its not like that at all. Dont even think that. Mr. Mainheart died of grief. It might look like something else, but thats what it was.Sorry, Lily said. Youre the expert.Charlie was staring at the floor, trying to put some sense to it all, wondering if his losing the hide coat that was Mrs. Mainhearts soul vessel meant that the duette would never be together again. Because of him.Oh yeah, Lily added. Mrs. Ling called down all freaked out and cry all Chinesey about a black bird smashing the win dow Charlie was off the stool and taking the stairs two at a time.Shes in your flatcar, Lily called after him.There was an orange slick of TV attorneys floating on the top of the fishbowl when Charlie got to his apartment. The Asian powers were standing in his kitchen, Mrs. Korjev was safe hold ining Sophie tight to her chest, and the infant was virtually swimming, trying to escape the giant marshmallowy canyon of bulwark between the massive Cossack fun bags. Charlie snatched his daughter as she was sinking into the cleavage for the third time and held her tight.What happened? he asked.There followed a barrage of Chinese and Russian change integrity with the odd English word bird, window, broken, black, and make shit on myself.Stop Charlie held up a free hand. Mrs. Ling, what happened?Mrs. Ling had retrieve from the bird hitting the window and the mad dash down the steps, but she was now showing an uncharacteristic shyness, afraid that Charlie might notice the damp spot in the pocket of her frock where the recently deceased person Barnaby Jones lay orangely awaiting introduction to some wonton, green onions, a pinch of five spices, and her soup pot. Fish is fish, she said to herself when she squirreled that rascal away. There were, after all, five more dead attorneys in the bowl, who would miss one?Oh, nothing, said Mrs. Ling. Bird break window and scoot us. Not so bad now.Charlie looked to Mrs. Korjev. Where?On our floor. We are talking in hall. address of what is best for Sophie, when boom, bird hits window and black ink run through window. We run here and lock door. Both the widows had keys to Charlies apartment.Ill have it fixed tomorrow, Charlie said. But thats all. Nothing no one came in?Is third floor, Charlie. No one comes in.Charlie looked to the fishbowl. What happened there?Mrs. Lings eyes went wide. I have to go. Mah-jongg night at temple.We come in, lock door, explained Mrs. Korjev. Fish are fine. Put Sophie in car piazza like always we are doing, then go look in hallway for coast to be clear. When Mrs. Ling look back, fish are dead.Not me Is Russian who see dead fish, said Mrs. Ling.Its okay, Charlie said. Did you see any birds, anything dark in the apartment?The two women shook their heads. Only upstairs, Mrs. Ling said.Lets go look, Charlie said, moving Sophie to his hip and pick out up his sword-cane. He led the two women to the little elevator, did a quick perspicacity of Mrs. Korjevs size versus the cubic footage, and led them up the stairs. When he saw the broken bay window he felt a little weak in the knees. It wasnt so much the window, it was what was on the roof across the street. Refracted a thousand times in the spiderwebbed safety glass was the shadow of a woman that was cast on the building. He handed the baby to Mrs. Korjev, approached the window, and knocked a trap in the glass to see better. As he did, the shadow slid down the side of the building, across the sidewalk, and into the storm drain n ext to where a dozen tourists had just disembarked from a cable car. None of them appeared to have seen anything. It was just past one and the sun was dramatis personae shadows nearly straight down. He looked back at the two windows.Did you see that?You mean break window? Mrs. Ling said, soft approaching the window and peering through the mess Charlie had made. Oh no.What? What?Mrs. Ling looked back at Mrs. Korjev. You are right. Flowers need water.Charlie looked through the hole in the window and saw that Mrs. Ling was referring to a window box full of dead, black geraniums.Safety bars on all the windows. Tomorrow, Charlie said.Not far away, as the crow flies, under Columbus Avenue, in a wide yell join where several storm sewers met, Orcus, the Ancient One, paced, bended over like a hunchback, the heavy spikes that jutted from his shoulders scraping the sides of the pipe, throwing off sparks and the smell of smoulder peat.Youre going to fuck up your spikes if you keep pacing like that, said Babd.She was crouched in one of the smaller pipes to the side, next to her sisters, Nemain and Macha. excerpt for Nemain, who was beginning to show a gunmetal reprieve of bird featherings over her body, they were devoid of attainment flat absences of light, absolute black even in the gloom filtering down through the storm grates shadows, silhouettes, really the darker ancestors of the modern mud-flap girls. Shades delicate and female and fierce.Sit. Have a snack. What good to take the Above if you look like hell in the end?Orcus growled and spun on the Morrigan, the three. Too long out of the air Too long. From the basket on his belt he hooked a human skull on one of his claws, popped it in his mouth, and crunched down on it.The Morrigan laughed, sounding like wind through the pipes, pleased that he was enjoying their gift. Theyd spent much of the day under San Franciscos graveyards digging out the skulls (Orcus liked them decoffinated) and smooth off the dirt and detritus until they shone like bone china.We flew, said Nemain. She took a s to admire the blue-black feather shapes on her surface. Above, she added unnecessarily. They are everywhere, like cherries waiting to be stolen.Not stolen, said Orcus. You think like a crow. They are ours for the taking.Oh yeah, well, where were you? I got these. The fill out held up William Creeks umbrella in one hand and the fur jacket shed ripped away from Charlie Asher in the other. They still glowed red, but were cursorily dimming. Because of these, I was Above. I flew. When no one reacted, Nemain added, Above.I flew, too, said Babd timidly. A little. She was a tad self-conscious that shed manifested no feather patterns or dimension.Orcus hung his great head. The Morrigan moved to his side and began stroking the long spikes that had once been wings. We will all be Above, soon, said Macha. This new one doesnt know what he is doing. He will make it so we can all be Above. Look how far weve come a nd we are so close now. Two Above in much(prenominal) a short time. This New Meat, this ignorant one, he may be all we need.Orcus lifted his bull-like head and grinned, revealing a sawmill of teeth. They will be like fruit for the picking.See, said Nemain. Like I said. Did you know that Above you can see really far? Miles. And the wonderful smells. I never realized how damp and standpat(a) it is down here. Is there any mind that we cant have a window? close down up growled Orcus.Jeez, bite my head off, why dont you.Dont tease, said the bullheaded Death. He rose and led the other Deaths, the Morrigan, down the pipe toward the financial district, to the buried Gold quiver ship where they made their home.