April 14, 2006

my evil dopple ganger part 3

It was early in the evening, when Officer Charlie Smith and his partner Rey Sanchez were called to investigate a 390-D; which is police code for an unconscious drunk. Their car, a 1994 Crown Victoria, greeted the elderly caller who waited for them at the front entrance to the southside mall. A floral mu-mu draped over her obese figure and a hair net covered her thick gray hair, which Officer Sanchez thought to be a wig.

"Yes ma'am, what is it?", he asked.

"Over there, several cars down, in front of a Jeep, there is a man on the ground." She pointed towards the half-filled parking lot, which was illuminated by florescent street lamps.

"Is he moving?"

"A little. He tried to tell me something, but I could not understand a word of it."

"Sounds drunk to me. Ma'am, wait here while we check it out. Okay?"

The woman nodded in comprehension.

------------------------------------

Officer Smith and Sanchez walked into the parking lot which was getting darker by the minute. They scanned the area methodically until they spotted the described individual. The man was exactly where the old lady had said, 'several cars down, in front of a Jeep.' He looked to be wearing 'biker' clothes, and had several prominent tattoos on his arms and neck. His face was less describable. It was hideously swollen and had dried blood caked all over it. The man was not intoxicated after all, but was instead the victim of some vicious attack.

"Rey, we better call an ambulance." said Officer Smith. Officer Sanchez nodded and left the scene to use the car phone.

Officer Smith squatted to examine the assault victim, and almost got sick to his stomach after seeing the injuries up close. Out of all the injuries, the worst was the man's jaw which was obviously broken in a couple of places. It bulged on one side, and twisted grotesquely on the other. He checked the man's pulse which was going strong.

"Hey buddy, what happened to you?", the officer asked.

The bloodied man opened his eyes and looked at Officer Smith. He tried to answer him, but all that came out was a gurgling sound.

"Thats okay, don't try to talk,... help is on the way." Officer Smith regretted asking such a stupid questions, like 'what happened?' to a man with a jaw injury.

Meanwhile, the injured man had turned his attention elsewhere. He looked to an area of the parking lot that was in darkness.

"What is it? Is there something over there?" Officer smith asked before reprimanding himself.

STUPID QUESTION!

He walked in the direction of the injured man's eyes. When he got to the dark area, he turned on his flashlight and saw a young woman lying face down in a pool of blood. She wore a trenchcoat on her body and a scarf on her head.

"Hey, ma'am? Are you alright?" After recieving no response, he checked her pulse for vital signs. There was nothing, she was dead. He turned her over and saw that her throat had been slit.

"Poor girl." he said to the corpse.

"Hey Rey!" Officer Smith shouted.

"What?" Officer Sanchez shouted back from a distance.

"We got a 187!"

"A what?"

"A 187!"

"Who?"

"A girl!"

"A what?"

"Just call it in! And rope off the perimeter!"

Officer Smith knew now, that he was going to be there for the rest of the evening. Soon the place would be covered with people from all over the police department. Detectives, Forensics, Coroners, etc.

Sadly, he didn't mind working this sort of night, because it was easy work. All he had to do was control the crowds at the perimeter, while the 'real' work was done by the team of investigators. Crowd control should be a piece-of-cake too since no one shopped at the southside mall.

This mall should be scrapped, and something better should be built in its place. he thought to himself. The mall, in its current condition, was an eye sore, one more piece of blight in a troubled neighborhood. Or was it? He pondered the question while shielding his lighter, from the wind while he lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and felt the nicotine enter his body. He looked skywards at the emerging stars.

"What a beautiful night. Sorry you had to miss it." Officer Smith solemnly said to the unresponsive corpse. "Its a shame. Why would someone do such a thing to such an attractive girl. You know, I'd ask you out on a date, if of course, you weren't dead. I know, I know. Why should being dead come between us? I've thought about that myself and experimented when I was young and naive. But now, I am older and wiser."

Officer Smith's attention returned back to earth, when he heard a footstep nearby. Silhouetted by the street lamps, just a few yards away, a murky figure emerged. With veteran reflexes, he flashed his light with one hand and drew his pistol with the other. To his surprise, it was the bloodied-man with the broken jaw. Officer Smith, sighed and reholstered his weapon. He walked over to the injured man.

"Sir, you shouldn't be on your feet right now. You are seriously hurt... Don't worry about your girlfriend over there, she is going to be okay. You just get back there and lie down. Help is on the way." Officer Smith grabbed the man by the arm and gently steered him back. He didn't notice the man reaching for his gun until it was too late.

Officer Charlie Smith was shot three times, twice in the torso, and once in the head.

Officer Sanchez, startled by the sound of gunshots, burst into the scene, ready for a shootout. He saw the dead woman and Officer Smith next to her. He made a quick search of the area for the gunman, but found nothing but a brown stain where the injured man used to be. He went back to check Officer Smith's condition, there was no pulse. Examining the wounds he concluded that it would be pointless to perform CPR.

Officer Sanchez, a devout catholic, made the sign of the cross. But something struck him funny about Officer Smith's position. He looked as if he was spooned the dead girl with the nice body.

Officer Sanchez chuckled to himself and said, "Finally, Charlie has found a beautiful woman!"

Somewhere in the distance, emergency vehicles rapidly approached. Their sirens mourning the loss of one of their own.

April 12, 2006

my evil dopple ganger part 2



"Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl, that lived in a far away land. They were young and naive and got married very quickly. And all was well, until the king of the land, sent the boy to a long long war. The years went by and the young boy never returned. The heartbroken girl was never the same again. Depressed, she cast herself off of the highest cliff she could find.”

“And she died?”

“No Henry, she lived. Against all odds she lived. And in a cruel twist of fate, her husband came back with no recollection of ever meeting her.”

“And then, what happened next?”

“Nothing happened next. That's the end.” Marla looked away and put her sunglasses back on.

“Henry, I am sorry to have bothered you.”, was all she said before leaving the table.

Henry watched her walk away for a moment, stunned by the suddenness of her departure. He had many unanswered questions, that he wanted answered. Somehow, Marla Solenski was in his head and he wanted to know how that was. He could not let her go. He regretted telling her a lie to make his own ego feel altruistic. He thought she wasn't well, but now it was becoming apparent that he was the one, who wasn't well.

“Marla!” he shouted after her.

She stopped and faced him.

“Marla, don’t go. I do remember you.”

Marla looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of her shoulders. But still suspicion lingered and hurt emotions showed as tears dropped from her eyes.

“Then why did you tell me that you didn’t?” she said.

“Because my memory of you is fragmented. It's in pieces. And, I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Henry, hope is the only reason that I am still alive.”

Henry approached her and gently put his hand upon her shoulder. He said, “I know, that's why, I can’t let you leave.” She began to cry once again, and he pulled her body into his and they embraced. "I need this too."

Marla's emotion was changing from confusion to excitement, she said, “Henry, that's terrific! This means that I am not crazy, and that something has happened to your memory... and who knows, maybe we can fix it. Don't you think? Henry, what about me do you remember?”

“Not much. Like I said, bits and pieces. Like at my mother’s funeral. I remember being there in the front row grieving, and seeing your hand in mine. But that is all that I remember, your hand. When I saw your hand at the table it brought the memory back, and I made the connection. Then more things about you came to me... I know it sounds strange.”

“Nothing sounds strange to me anymore. I was there Henry, and if you could remember that much about me, then perhaps there is a way we could unlock the rest.”

"Maybe." Henry said with pessimism. He was not as optimistic as she was.

Sensing his unease she said, “Henry, I do not know why these things are happening, the world seems all messed up. For the last couple of years, I have been trying to piece my life back together, and for some reason this world that seems alien to me. It looks like a perfect forgery but a forgery nonetheless. Have you ever felt that? I've been trying to assimilate back into life, but then you showed up--” She interrupted her sentence as an idea came to her. She planted a kiss on Henry’s lips. Surprised at first, Henry eventually succumbed because it felt good and right. When it was over they both had a smile on their faces.

"What was that for?"

“Did that jog your memory?”

“No, maybe another kiss might do the trick.” This time he kissed her.

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"This is so sweeeeeeeeeeeeet!", an unapologetically sarcastic male voice interrupted their intimate moment.

Henry glanced a shadowy male figure out of the corner of his eye before a fist hit him in it. As Henry fell to the ground the mystery man grabbed Marla by her hair and violently yanked it back until she was off balance.

"This is it slutI You've cheated on me for the last time. This time I am gonna kill you.”

Henry looked up with his good eye, and thought the man looked oddly familiar. He glanced over at Marla who looked completely horrified. He got up just in time to grab the mystery man from behind before he could hurt Marla. Henry spun the man around to punch him, but his fist froze when the mystery man's face came into view. Except for the tattoos and goatee, the attacker looked exactly like him. The attackers face reflected the same astonishment.

Marla looked at the two together, and her mouth animated, as if she wanted to say something but all that came out was a high pitched shriek. She frantically ran away in a random direction. Her departure drew Henry's attention long enough to snap Henry out of his paralysis. He roughly threw his doppleganger to the ground and chased after her.

As Henry dissappeared around a corner, the doppleganger rose up off of the ground and muttered to himself, “Run coward. I don’t care if you look like me! Nobody touches Henry Fulton’s wife and lives!”

-------------------------------------

Henry caught with Marla outside in the parking lot. She was sitting on a the curb shaking and sobbing with her hands on her temples. He approached her, and gently put his arm around her back. She instinctivly flinched and realized that he was not a threat to her.

“Marla, who was that guy?”, he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“He looked just like me.”

“I know that! It doesn’t make sense... it doesn’t make sense.” she repeated the sentence over and over, and Henry was afraid that he had lost her. Henry looked over his shoulder at the mall's entrance where everything seemed calm for the moment. He glanced over at another entrance further away but stll there was nothing. As he turned his attention back to the shell-shocked Marla Solenski, a voice came booming from behind like a chalk board being scratched.

“Marlaaaaaaa! Yooouu whooooore!!!!”

Henry picked up Marla, but he was not strong enough to flee while carrying her weight. The doppleganger caught up and jumped onto Henry’s back, pushing him and Marla to the ground. The doppleganger struggled to produce a switchblade from his pocket which gave Henry enough time to get up in a defensive stance. His military training instinctively kicked in. The doppleganger lunged forward jabbing his knife wildly. Henry dodged the assault with ease, after which the doppleganger, not being disciplined, repeated the same attack with even more intensity. Henry was not prepared for the ferocity and was only able to raise his arms while being driven backwards. His forearms were cut several times. Then all of the sudden the attack stopped.

When he looked at the doppleganger, he saw Marla holding onto the doppleganger's arm with all her strength. The dopple ganger shrugged her off and punched her in the mouth which caused two teeth to fall out. The doppleganger paused to admire his work, which was a mistake because he forgot about Henry for a split second. Which was all the time that a pissed off Henry needed to put his military training to use.

Henry tackled the doppleganger which sent the two crashing to the ground. Henry got his knees on top of the man’s shoulders and repeatedly, without mercy, pummeled the doppleganger in the face. Over and over until there was no more movement coming forth from the victim. Henry eased up after he felt the man’s jaw break under the pounding. He stood up and just watched the man as he weakly writhed back and forth in pain, the knife he held, fell from his limp hands. Henry picked it up and tossed it far away.

"Marla, are you ok?"

She nodded her head while holding her bleeding mouth. Henry looked around and found her teeth which he handed to her. Together, they got into Henry's 2001 Honda Civic and left the mall, turning west on route 40.

Henry used his shirt to stop the bleeding from his arms. He managed a glance over towards Marla who held her head-scarf over her mouth to soak up the blood that poured from where two of her teeth used to be. A steady stream of tears fell down from her cheeks. Henry wondered if she would ever stop crying. The crying was understandable considering the ordeal that they had been through. But he admitted to himself that it was annoying.

A few disturbing questions remained unanswered that he didn't want to bother her with immediately. This idea he brushed aside as he weighed the importance of the answers against Marla's emotional comfort.

“Marla, what was it that happened to me? That made me forget you?", he asked.

“Oh Henry, can we do this later?"

"We could, but I really want to know. Like now."

"Don't you think we've been through enough?"

"Yeah, we have. However, I don't know that man who attacked us. For all I know, he was your boyfriend or something. I am generously giving you the benefit of doubt right now... after you dragged me into this mess. Can I, at least, get a few questions answered?--"

"Fine. Whatever. What happened to you. Ok, you went to war,... you do remember that part, right?”

"Yeah, of course, that was a couple of years ago."

"And that was the last I've ever heard of you." she said, and elevated her crying to new level of sentimentality.

“And that's all? Did you ask my whereabouts? Marla, talk to me." Henry tried his best to be gentle but firm. He was in no mood to tip toe around her emotions.

Marla stopped crying, as she realized that she couldn't evade the question any longer. And in a blunt manner, she said “You died in Iraq.”

Henry fell silent. The news was just one more unexpected surprise in a day that was full of them.

Marla continued, "One day I got a visit from the Army people and they told me that a roadside bomb killed you. And of course, I believed them."

“In Iraq?”

She nodded.

Henry thought about how such a huge mistake could have been made by the Army. Afterall, he was involved in such an attack. He verbally went through what had happended, "I mean, there was a roadside bomb that injured me. My leg got hurt but that was all. However, I was the lone survivor of my company...”

“Henry, lets not talk about this now. I don’t know why the Army told me you were dead, or even why it is that you don't remember me. And I definitely don’t know why that man back at the mall knew me, or why he looked exactly . like you. Why is everything fucked up? I don't know.”

“Marla the only thing that I am beginning to think is fucked up is--”

“Me. I know. But isn’t it odd? That you do remember me in some capacity? To tell you the truth, I really don't expect us to get back together. I had some hopes at first, when I first saw you at Wholesale Pyrotechnics, but now I realize how much of an unattainable dream that is. The only thing that motivates me at the moment is to find out what has happened to us. Something here isn’t right and we should, at least, find out what it is. And, oh yeah, I saw your body at your funeral, you are dead.”

With that said, Henry said nothing else. He did not want to believe her, but many of the things that she had told him were correct. Not since his childhood, had the world seemed this bewildering to him. It was as if he had walked into some bizarre alternative universe. Where the familiar seemed foreign. Or like what Marla had said earlier, a perfect forgery.

For a while they drove in silence. Marla rubbed Henry's shoulder to comfort him but he kept to himself.

“I am not dead.”, he eventually declared aloud, to let her know, and himself.

“I know.”, she said, squeezing his arm lightly.

“It's as if we are not from this world.”

“I know.”

The car sped down the freeway as the sun set in a swath of orange light.