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pascal_curious) wrote2010-06-25 03:31 pm
Chapter 35 : Would you know yet more?
It was quiet in the Beaker household. There had not been any shouting for at least forty-five minutes.
Circe was on her way to work, Nervous was in the garage working out, and Loki was taking advantage of the quiet time by reading the newspaper.
The lead story in the paper was “Suspect Sought in Boob Shooting”. He had read the first paragraph of the article five times, and still hadn’t figured out whose boob had been shot. He was too distracted to concentrate on reading. Ever since Nervous had come back from his little camping trip, Circe and the boy had been as thick as thieves. Something was up between them and he couldn’t figure it out. Circe had started sticking up for Nervous whenever Loki was giving him a hard time. It wasn’t as if she needed to, though. The boy had suddenly started showing some backbone and was being openly defiant instead of meek and submissive. Something was definitely up with the two of them.
Loki folded the newspaper and tossed it aside onto the loveseat. It was going to be a long day if he didn’t find something to distract him. Nervous’ defiance had put a stop to all of Loki’s research. Something had to be done about that.
Through the window, Loki spotted the mail carrier making her way down the front walk. With a lack of anything better to do, Loki decided to retrieve the mail. It was a gorgeous day in the desert. The skies were clear, save for a few puffy white clouds, and the scorching heat of summer had not yet set in. Loki made his way to the mailbox, noticing on his way that one of the neighborhood strays had dug a hole in his front yard. If Nervous hadn’t been acting so disobedient, Loki would have ordered him to fill the hole.
The mailbox contained the usual. Bills, bills, and more bills. It seemed like he had just paid a mountain of bills yesterday, and here was another stack! Loki flipped through the envelopes, searching for something that didn’t require him to get out his checkbook. Even a Publisher’s Clearinghouse letter would have been welcome.
On the bottom of the stack was something interesting; a wrinkled stained envelope addressed to Loki in almost illegible handwriting. In the upper left-hand corner of the envelope there was a return address for Strangetown, but no name. Loki studied the envelope for a minute. He didn’t recognize the handwriting or the address. Hopefully it was something interesting.
Loki took the handful of envelopes inside and sat the undesirable ones on the coffee table. He studied the curious envelope before pulling up the flap and sliding his finger inside. There was nothing like a mystery to add a little excitement to what would otherwise be a boring day off. He made a mess of the envelope as he slid his finger underneath the crease on the top. The envelope tore unevenly, leaving ragged edges along the opening. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it.
Loki felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. On the sheet of yellowed and wrinkled copy paper was a crude drawing and a short line of text, scribbled in the same sloppy handwriting as the address on the outside of the envelope. The drawing was a symbol he knew well; a serpent swallowing its own tail. Below the drawing was a simple question, a line repeated in the poem Völuspá , of the Poetic Edda, “would you know yet more?”
Not only was this piece of mail interesting, it was unsettling. Loki put the sheet of paper down with a shaking hand.
He anxiously paced around the living room as he pondered the possible meaning of the cryptic note. He came up with a few ideas, all of them quite troubling.
He went to refrigerator to get a drink. He needed something to with his hands. If he hadn’t stopped smoking cigarettes after college he certainly would have been firing one up.
He popped the top on the can and perched himself on a kitchen stool. He sipped as he mulled over the possibilities.
The message was clearly an invitation. Would you know yet more? Do you want to know more? Ultimately, Loki was aware that he had to know more. He would not be able to rest until he knew not only more, but all. Who would have the temerity to send him such a message, and exactly what did they know?
He had to look at the message again. Loki went to the living room and put his drink on the coffee table.
He sat on the ottoman and studied the note, holding his head in his hand. His head was spinning with the potentialities. He picked up the ragged envelope and checked the return address. It was an address in the center of town. Loki memorized the address before wadding the message and envelope together in a ball. It mustn’t be left around for anyone else to see. He went to the kitchen, grabbed his car keys from their hook and rushed out the front door.
He stopped briefly to toss the wad of paper into the garbage bin before making his way to the garage. He glared contemptuously at the Delorean as he got into his Chrysler. Something would have to be done about that, he thought. He couldn’t stand the idea of that monstrosity being parked in his garage.
Loki parked his car in the shopping center parking lot. It wouldn’t do to have his vehicle seen in front of a building where it probably did not belong, especially in the event that... it was best not to think about it.
It was a short hoof from the parking lot to the address. What he found was a dilapidated little stone house across from the cemetery and next to the trailer park. It was a building that probably should have been razed years ago. The walls were peppered with graffiti, and the yard was littered with every kind of garbage imaginable. He hoped that he would not be seen in such a clearly disreputable place.
He knocked on the front door and waited impatiently for an answer. When no answer came he knocked again, harder and more urgently. He wished the building weren’t so close to the road. After a few more minutes of waiting there still was no answer. Loki decided to check the yard for any sign of the inhabitants of this grungy little house.
He peeked quickly around one corner of the house to find a yard with a spotty lawn that was populated by decaying wooden crates, metal drums, and stacks of faded beer cases.
He made his way around the other side of the house and entered the cluttered yard.
He followed a worn path around to the back of the house, past a mountain of garbage bags and a rusted out old Smoogoo. Loki wondered if this had become a dumping ground for the nearby trailer park or if whoever lived here had managed to amass this much garage on their own.
Huffing anxiously, Loki returned to the front door in a last ditch effort to get to the bottom of the mystery. He tried the doorknob and it turned. The door creaked loudly as it opened. If the knocking hadn’t alerted any occupants to his presence, the creaking door certainly would have.
The inside of the building was not any better than the outside. It had clearly been years since the place had seen a mop and bucket, or a broom and dustpan.
Loki snooped about the combined living room and kitchen or any sign of who might live here. The only thing he was able to determine was that the resident was in dire need of a few lessons in housekeeping.
He pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside. The smell was almost enough to make him gag. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyone who was capable of living in such squalor. The only thing missing was an overflowing, smelly cat pan and about half-a-dozen cats.
The stairs groaned in protest as Loki climbed the spiral staircase to the loft above. The sleeping quarters were no better than the rest of the house, save for the bed that was neatly made. Graffiti marred the walls here also. A skeleton was spray painted on the wall next to the wardrobe. It appeared to be drawn by the same talent that produced the drawing of the serpent. Whoever had been in charge of the interior décor had a distinct taste for the morbid; there was a noose hanging from the ceiling.
Loki returned to the ground floor and crossed the room to the rickety kitchen table. He sat down on one of the chairs after brushing away any detritus with his hand. As much as he loathed the idea of spending any more time in this hovel, he knew that whoever lived here would have to return sometime. When they finally did return, Loki Beaker would be waiting for them.
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I can't take credit for the hovel, it is by meandmyself @ GOS and can be found here
http://www.digitalperversion.net/gardenofshadows/index.php?topic=6338.msg191651#msg191651
I cannot claim credit for the serpent drawing either. It is altered from an original by the very talented person found here
http://www.flickr.com/photos/29320962@N07/3224932185/
If anything is factually wrong with this chapter please tell me. I am not up on my Norse Mythology so I tried not to get in too deep. I blame wikipedia for any inaccuracies.
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*Double-checked to make sure I don't insult you by omission ;)*
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*hits send email when updated journal* >;D
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