Sunday, October 11, 2009

04. Tings Nov 04

(7:50 am Nov 04, 2005)


"Hey bulla, where you been?"

"Right here, right here, Bulla. Where you been?"

Frizzell crawled out of Bruno's bag during the night while Bruno slept at the table and scurried under the bed. Frizz had stowed away in the bag while it sat on the beach in the bright sun and Jelli and Bruno had been walking its curves.

There were voices coming in the open window. Low and a bit slurred.

Frizz curled his tail.

Time played a few tricks in the night. A couple of cheap tricks and one rather expensive one.

(7:58 am Nov 04, 2005)

Now he watched with interest as Bruno woke up with a puzzled look on his face. He would have to bide his time until he could safely make a dash for the outdoors and freedom.

Bruno woke up groggy with a head ache and a bit off beat. This was not a most auspicious start to the fourth of November. Bruno reached for his optical mouse and called up Kontact. Nothing in the works for today except work on the book. His eyes slid over to tomorrow's entry:

Remember, remember, the fifth of November!

Ah yes, the burning of the guy. Bruno would have to add something to take up some of today's writing time. He wanted to get together the things needed to make a guy and them come back and make one. He had plans to go to a guy burning bash tomorrow night with some friends.

A couple of hours writing this morning, then a break to head out and get the needed materials, back by say four and a couple of more hours of writing and then a few hours to make his guy. That could work.

He added and entry before shutting down Kontact and then brought Abiword into focus. He was unaware that the had an unwanted visitor in the room with him.

Hey began typing and then remembered that he had not got the morning's paper off the porch yet.

Frizzell's tail twitched as he watched Bruno push back from the table and stand up. It curled tightly as Bruno headed fro the front door. While Bruno was looking the other way, he made a dash from under the bed to under the small table by the front door.

(8:33 am Nov 04, 2005)

He was poised and waiting and when Bruno opened the screen door and stepped out on the porch and reached down for the paper with one hand while holding on to the door with the other, he took his chance and made a dash for freedom.

Bruno went back inside and threw the paper over on the bed before going in an brushing his teeth. Frizzell was gone and he had left little evidence of his presence. It remains to be seen if Bruno will stumble on this evidence and if there is any importance to the fact of their paths crossing like this.

Red looked down at Froggy and his anger grew. He spread his wings and launched himself from the top of the lamp post where he had been singing. When he was directly above Froggy, he folded his wings and headed down.

(8:42 am Nov 04, 2005)

(6:38 pm Nov 04, 2005)

Froggy yelped as a sharp pain exploded in his head. Time smiled.


Yeah dread, what it is?


I dread this next stretch.

Oh yeah? I dread these exams that are coming up. You taking BGCSEs and SATs at the end of this school year?

I look young to you hey? Chile, back in my day we took GCEs. I did take the SATs too though.

Dread. that feeling that comes on you in the night.

Dread. What you call you buddy. (Among other things.)

Dreadlocks. Some people grow their own, some people buy fakes and wear them. Have you ever seen anyone wearing fake dreadlocks that looked real?

She came in through the bathroom window. Bruno felt a brief gentle breeze as she slipped in, but thought nothing of it. He concentrated on painting the face of his guy.


Bruddah Bing and Bruddah Boom crept across the bridge to Russell Island with their blue nylon thread net. When they had learned of Cang and XXIII's departure on the smack, they had caught a fast ferry up to Spanish Wells in the hopes of getting to the island ahead of them. Unfortunately, when they pulled into the harbour, they could see the smack called "Old Wrinkles " tied up at a dock near a restaurant that was closed for lunch.

(6:56 pm Nov 04, 2005)

They did not realize that the restaurant was closed for lunch until they tried to go in and get a bite to eat and to see if they could pick up the trail.

And picking up the trail had proved very difficult indeed. Although the people in the settlement had seemed friendly enough, they had not proved very forthcoming with straight answers to the soldiers admittedly sometimes aggressive questioning.

Finally, after dark, they had gotten a break. They were sitting beside a stone wall between a neat lawn and a road. They were resting and to be honest, they were both a bit confounded. At first they could not be sure, but they got the feeling that the same cars, usually with the exact same passengers, kept driving buy on a fairly regular schedule. Some people passing would wave. However, others would point at them and smile.

This made the two somewhat paranoid for a while, wondering if there were some deeper message behind the pointing. Bruddah Boom started to note down the license plate numbers and sure enough, it was the same vehicles passing again and again.

So, like I said, they were sitting by this stone wall and being passed by the same cars again and again. What I have not revealed yet is that there were some Segillians sitting behind them. Sitting on a swing. A front porch swing. On a front porch. The front porch to a neat little wooden house. A house painted white with pink trim. A house with wooden shingles and dormer windows in the attic and shutters pushed up with sticks. Shutters that could be dropped and fastened securely at a moments notice. A moments notice as to an approaching storm. And storms had a history with this settlement. The infamous Andrew had put a hurting on the place years back. A house sitting primly on ground pins.

The soldiers heard the people on the porch laughing. One of them had apparently just today told some visitor to the island that they had imported the ground pin holes for the house from Nassau early during the previous century and that they were installed with the help of sky hooks.

The soldiers chuckled a bit at this themselves. Their ears picked up however when they heard the butt described as hairy. Their break came when they heard that the visitors had been invited to the local men's club in the bushes.

Bruddah Bing and Bruddah Boom had been waiting in the shadows by the club and had seen Cang come in with some of the locals. There was no evidence of XXIII, but he could have easily been in one of Cang's many pockets.

In any case, they had seen no opportunity to net Cang without being seen and Cang had not stayed long in any case.

When he left, they had followed and seen him cross the bridge to Russell Island.

And so, they were creeping over the bridge with the net ready.


A truly special fruit.

Guava duff. Guava ice cream. Guava pie. Guava jam. Guava jelli. Guava paste.

(7:24 pm Nov 04, 2005)

(7:43 pm Nov 04, 2005)

Guava tarts. The smell of guavas ripe on the tree.

Bruddah Bing smelled guavas in the air tonight. He remembered that they had not actually eaten anything since early this morning. His stomach rumbled.

The two were hiding out in the bushes bordering the house that they had seen Cang go into. After getting here, they had marched around the house looking for a way in that could be easily effected without making too much noise. No such ways were in evidence and so they had set up watch.


Bruno finished his guava duff and licked the remaining sauce from the spoon and then from his bowl. She peered into the room under the bathroom door. The skin on the back of Bruno's neck stood up. She sensed this and closed her eyes slowly and Bruno shivered slightly before his hair settled down and he put the finishing touches on his guy.

Froggy was long gone. Down to Retirement park to hang with some of the other potcakes for the evening. He did not usually hang with this pack as they tended to be a little rough around the edges for his taste and he feared getting the mange or even fleas. But tonight, the pain in his head was pounding and he had already downed a 40 ounces of the rats brew and was not feeling too discerning as to his company.

Red was once again singing outside of Bruno's window. He noticed his feathers fluffing out every now and again for no apparent reason.

She was paying Red no mind.

(7:59 pm Nov 04, 2005)


What should I say? You could write a whole book on this one subject alone and when you were done, no matter how thik the book, there would still be more to write.

Bruno had once considered writing a detective novel with the working title of "Murder in Three Quarter Time" but had never quite yet gotten it started. He had written a short story once called "The Syncopated Killings" but it was back home in his trunk at the foot of his bed. perhaps he should get it out and put it up on his ourmedia site with a BY-SA license. He fired up Kontact and added an entry to his todo list.

(8:22 pm Nov 04, 2005)

The block was threatening. Time was passing and no words were flowing. Google had called seductively and research had replaced writing. This could easily derail a nano effort. It was hard not to spend too much time watching the words scroll by in #nanowrimo on goodchatting as well. At least he had not yet fallen to the temptation to post in #nanowrimo or in the nano forums. The Song (Question and Answer) Game was calling though. A quick check showed that no one had posted since his last response though so that particular temptation eased a bit.


(8:27 pm Nov 04, 2005)

The soldiers decided to take direct action. No more of this foolin around. They strung their net on the front porch of the house and Bruddah Boom managed to crawl up the wall and ring the doorbell.

Cang came out to see who was there and became entangled in the net. The soldiers sprang into action, wrapped him up and dragged him off into the bushes.


She briefly opened her eyes. Not fully, just small slits which emitted a faint reddish glow. Getting her bearings, she closed her eyes again and slithered out under the bathroom door and crawled across the floor to hide under the bed. The very same bed which Frizzell had hidden under.

For some reason, Bruno was feeling restless. He saved his work and scp'd a copy to a server located elsewhere and made another copy on his small flash drive. he got up and walked over to the bed. He took off his shorts and sat down and pulled on his jeans. Then he reached down and felt under the bed for his boat shoes. They weren't where he first expected and he groped around for a while before his fingers found them.

She was feeling an uneasy pulsing feeling in her gut. She did not open her eyes.

Bruno pulled out his shoes and dropped them on the floor and slipped them on. Then he stood up and walked towards the door.

She felt a little better and took a chance and opened her eyes. She saw Bruno's back as he opened the door and stepped out. She saw the hairs on his neck stand up briefly.

Bruno felt a vague sense of unease as the door close. You could almost call it a sense of dread. Then the door slammed shut and rattled a bit and gave off a few good vibrations and he felt better.

Forget the writing for tonight. He was near his daily goal and he could catch up tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to find some live music somewhere. He wanted to at least listen, preferably to get in on the playing somewhere.

(8:42 pm Nov 04, 2005)

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