Watching the detectives

Saturday 8.21am

The year 2023, the place downtown Chicago. I am eating noodles at a roadside stall. It is raining, drops are trickling down my neck and I can feel the dampness coming through my coat onto my shoulders. Of course with the permanent cloud cover it is always raining. Not the pure angels tears of generations gone by but a constant drizzle, so acid you can taste it and if you leave your small change out for a couple of hours it will end up all shiny and new. We used to do that as children. But not anymore because the children have all gone offworld with their parents, taking anything shiny and new along with them.

The noodles are good. Hot, spicy, warming. It is a pity I'll not get to finish them. Putting down the dish, I nod thanks to the cook and turn towards the descending police car. The crowds scatter as it settles in a cloud of steam. My instructions are within, brought by my new "partner" the fresh faced new recruit they have forced upon me to smooth the way they said, but really just a spy to report back to them, to make sure I am behaving myself. Just one more job, the boss said this will be the last, and you can retire to raise bonsai or Koi carp or whatever it is you do. His contempt was obvious and we both new the truth. There is never "a last job". No, whenever an author needs to pay the mortgage or repair his car one last mission will dramatically appear and I'll be dragged out of retirement yet again. We all knew it, sitting in that small box of an office when they told me I was needed once again. And for God's sake show some enthusiasm he had said next. Enthusiasm. Right. They were talking to a ex cop and trying to be retired private eye. Dogged determination I could do, resigned acceptance that in the end life was just unfair, I could do that as well but enthusiasm? Not me. But the new recruit had that in spades. I spotted him immediately standing pertly to attention at the back of the room listening intently to everything. Too bad he has to die.

But as he approaches through the returning crowds I know he is only here to remind me of how I used to be, and his death will be the turning point that will convince me that I have to forgo my own wishes and get this job done no matter what. And with him? The bosses sidekick of course, who silently watches everything, pretending not to care but who actually understands me and does care and will help if he can in subtle ways that I will only connect with him at the very end. Ah well, at least I will eventually know that someone is on my side.

I'd better go and meet them . . . .



The picture is from one of my favourite films - Bladerunner