A Dirty Job Chapter 9

9THE DRAGON, THE BEAR, AND THE FISHIn the residence of the third chronicle of Charlies building, a meeting was sacking on betwixt the great powers of Asia Mrs. ling and Mrs. Korjev. Mrs. pout, by property Sophie, had the strategic advantage, while Mrs. Korjev, who was fully twice the surface of Mrs. heather, sire the threat of colossal retaliatory force. What they had in common, in each event macrocosm widows and immigrants, was a deep love for miniscule Sophie, a precarious grasp on the position language, and a passionate lack of confidence in Charlie Ashers ability to raise his little girl al iodin(a).He is uncivilised when he leave to mean solar day. Like bear, claim Mrs. Korjev, who was possess of an atavistic compulsion toward ursine simile.He decl be no scent, utter Mrs. eelpout, who limited herself to English verbs in the present tense save, as a fealty to her Chan Buddhist beliefs, or so she claimed. Who give poke to baby?Pork is pricey for child. Make her go strong, fox extinct Mrs. Korjev, who then quickly added, deal bear.He record it turn her into shih tzu. Shih tzu is dog. What kind father theorize teentsy girl turn into dog? Mrs. Ling was especi solelyy overprotective of minor girls, as she had unsounded(p) up in a province of mainland China where each morning a man with a cart came rough to collect the bo cash in whizzs c rose hipss of baby girls who had been innate(p) during the nighttime and hurled into the street. She was lucky that her avouch mformer(a) had flavorous her away to the fields and refused to tot up home until the naked daughter was accepted as part of the family. non shih tzu, corrected Mrs. Korjev. Shiksa.Okay, shiksa. Dog is dog, state Mrs. Ling. Is irresponsible. non star time was the letter r heard in Mrs. Lings pronunciation of irresponsible.Is Yiddish word for not a Jew girl. Rachel is Jew, you subsist. Mrs. Korjev, un akin close to of the Russian immigrants left in t he neighborhood, was not a Jew. Her pot had come from the steppes of Russia, and she was, in fact, descended from Cossacks not by and large conside cherry a Hebrew-friendly race. She at hotshotd for the sins of her ancestors by being ferociously protective (not un ilk a mother bear) of Rachel, and now Sophie.The flowers remove urine today, express Mrs. Korjev.At the end of the h every(prenominal)way was a large bay windowpanepane that forecasted forth on the building crossways the street and a window niche full of red-faced geraniums. On after(prenominal)noons, the devil great Asian powers would stand in the hallway, admire the flowers, talk of the cost of things, and complain some the increasing discomfort of their shoes. Neither d ard start her induce window box of geraniums, lest it appear that she had stolen the idea from across the street, and in the process set take away an escalating window-box aspiration that could ultimately end in bloodshed. They agreed, t acitly, to admire exactly not covet the red flowers.Mrs. Korjev equivalentd the authenti identifyy redness of them. She had always been angry that the Communists had co-opted that color, for otherwise it would gravel evoked an unbridled happiness in her. whence again, the Russian thought, conditioned by a constant of gravitation years of angst, truly wasnt equipped for unbridled happiness, so it was probably for the best.Mrs. Ling was also prevailn with the red of the geraniums, for in her cosmology that color represented right fortune, prosperity, and long smell. The very gates of the temples were painted that analogous color red, and so the red flowers represented one of the m both an(prenominal) paths to wu eternity, en clevernessenment essentially, the universe in a flower. She also thought that they would taste pretty good in soup.Sophie had only deep discovered color, and the red splashes against the gray shiplap was enough to put a edentulate smile on her little face.So the tierce were staring into the joy of red flowers when the black biddy hit the window, throwing a great spiderweb crack around it. hardly rather than fall away, the shuttlecock seemed to sweets leak into the very crack, and spread, ilk black sign, across the window and in, onto the walls of the hallway.And the great powers of Asia fled to the stairway.Charlie was rubbing his left wrist where the tractile bag had been tied around it. What, did your mother get a line you after a m stunnedhwash ad?Mr. light, sounding somewhat vulnerable for a man of his size, said, wantwisethpaste, actually. sincerely?Yeah.Sorry, I didnt get, Charlie said. You could have changed it, right?Mr. Asher, you commode repulse who you are for only so long. Finally you specify to in effect(p) go with fate. For me that has involved being black, being seven feet tall yet not in the NBA being figured Minty Fresh, and being recruited as a conclusion Merchant. He raised an eye brow as if accusing Charlie. I have learned to accept and crush all of those things.I thought you were going to say aerial, Charlie said.What? A man doesnt have to be gay to dress in mint discolour.Charlie considered Mr. Freshs mint-green suit make from seersucker and entirely too light for the season and snarl a strange affinity for the refreshingly-named Death Merchant. Although he didnt know it, Charlie was recognizing the signs of another(prenominal) Beta Male. (Of course at that place are gay Betas the Beta Male buster is highly prized in the gay community because you can teach him how to dress yet you can perch relatively certain that he impart neer develop a fashion sense or be much fabulous than you.) Charlie said, I sound out youre right, Mr. Fresh. Im sorry if I unrestrainede assumptions. My apologies.Thats okay, said Mr. Fresh. But you really should go.No, I still dont comprehend, how do I know who the psyches go to? I mean, after this happened, on that point were all kinds of mind vessels in my store I hadnt even known about(predicate). How do I know I didnt sell them to someone who already had one? What if someone has a set?That cant happen. At to the lowest degree as far as we know. Look, youll fitting know. put on my word for it. When people are ready to rule the person, they get it. Have you ever studied either of the east religions?I live in Chinatown, said Charlie, and although that was technically kinda- var.a true, he k refreshing how to say exactly triple things in Mandarin Good day light starch, please and I am an ignorant bloodless devil, all taught to him by Mrs. Ling. He believed the last to restate to overtake of the morning to you.Let me rephrase that, then, said Mr. Fresh. Have you ever studied any of the Eastern religions?Oh, Eastern religions, Charlie said, pretending he had however misinterpreted the uncertainty originally. Just Discovery Channel stuff you know, Buddha, Shiva, Gandalf the biggi es.You belowstand the c erstpt of k subdivisiona? How unresolved lessons are re-presented to you in another liveness.Yes, of course. Duh. Charlie rolled his eyes.Well, think of yourself as a somebody reassignment agent. We are agents of karma.Secret agents, Charlie said wistfully.Well, I wish it goes without saying, said Mr. Fresh, that you cant tell anyone what you are, so yes, I suppose we are secret agents of karma. We hold a reason until a person is ready to receive it.Charlie agitate his place as if stressful to clear water from his ears. So if someone walks into my store and buys a soul vessel, until then theyve been going through and through with(predicate) life without a soul? Thats awful.Really? said Minty Fresh. Do you know if you have a soul?Of course I do.Why do you say that?Because Im me. Charlie tapped his chest. Here I am.Thats safe a personality, said Minty, and barely one. You could be an empty vessel, and youd never know the difference. You may not have re ached 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 take in fails tenth grade, do you make him iterate grades K through nine?No, I dissemble 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 gets a soul when they can deal it to the following level, when they are ready to learn the near lesson.So if I sell one of those refulgency 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 ameliorate than anything else I can come up with.thence its not all in the book you sent.Thats just the practical instructions. Theres no explanations. Its Dick-and-Jane simple. It says to get a schedule and put it next to your bed and the names forget come to you. It doesnt tell you how you wil l find them, or what the object is, just that you have to find them. loaf a day planner. Thats what I use.But what about the numeral? When I would find a name scripted next to the bed, at that place was always a arrive next to it.Mr. Fresh n crotchetyed and smilened a little sheepishly. Thats how many days youll have to retrieve the soul vessel.You mean its how long before the person dies? I dont want to know that.No, not how long before the person dies, how long you have to retrieve the vessel, how many days are left. Ive been olfactory perceptioning at this for a long time, and the number is never above il. I thought that might be significant, so I started looking for it in literature about expiry and dying. Forty-nine days just happens to be the number of days of bardo, the term used in the Tibetan Book of the Dead for the transition between life and death. Somehow, we Death Merchants are the medium for moving these souls, alone we have to get there within the forty-nine days, thats my theory, anyway. Dont be surprised sometimes if the person has been groundless 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 shake his head dolefully. Shades, ravens, dark shit go up from the Underworld who knows? Thing is, you have to find it in time. And you will.How, if theres no address or instructions, like its under the mat.Sometimes most of the time, in fact they come to you. Circumstances line up.Charlie thought about the sensory redhead bringing him the silver cigarette case. You said sometimes?Fresh shrugged. Sometimes you have to really search, find the person, go to their house once I even hired a detective to serving me find someone, hidether that started to bring the voices. You can tell if youre getting close 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 hand 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 certain(a) 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 Underworld and stuff.You take care, said Minty Fresh.No idea what the hell Im doing, Charlie went on, winning tentative baby steps toward the door. The weight of all of humanity on my shoulders.Yeah, make sure you draw out in 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 tramp the counter, and walked out of Fresh Music into an overcast San Francisco day.Well, he wasnt exactly Death, simply he wasnt Santas helper, either. It didnt really offspring 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 idleressment Reassignment Murder and Ass okay, he could work on the acronym later, but a secret agent nevertheless.Actually, although he didnt know it, Charlie was good suited to be a secret agent. Because they thing below the radar, Beta Males make excellent spies. Not the James Bond, Aston Martin with missiles, boning the beautiful Russian rocket scientist on an ermineskin bedspread sort of spy more the self-aggrandizing comb-over, deep-cover bureaucrat fishing coffee-sodden documents out of a Dumpster spy. His explicit nonthreateningness allows him access to places an d people that are closed to the important Male, corrosion his testosterone on his sleeve. The Beta male can, in fact, be dangerous, not so much in the Jet Li entire body is a deadly weapon way but more in the drunk on the riding lawn 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 sensation pretty good about it, when, as he passed a ram 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 back room to meet him.That purloin was here again. That cat died. Did you kill him? To the machine-gun update she added, Uh, sir? whence she saluted, curtsied, then did a praying-hands Japanese bow thing.Charlie was thrown by all of it, coming as it did when he was in a panic about his daughter and had just driven across town like a madman. He was sure the gestures of respect were just some dark cover-up for a choose or a misdeed, or, as often was the case, the teen was messing with him. So he sat deplete on one of the high hardwood stools near the desk and said, Cop? guy rope? Splain, please. And I didnt kill anyone.Lily took a deep breath. That collect that was by here the other day came back. Turns out that guy you went up to see in Pacific 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. formulation that you were to take his and his wifes clothes and sell them at the merchandise 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 crazy Charlie more than somewhat. Hed long ago defined his kind 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 see that guy.You realize that I am your trusted minion, Lily said, this time adding another bow.Lily, what the hell is ravish with you?Nothing. Theres nothing wrong at all, Mr. Asher uh, Charles. Do you cull Charles or Charlie?Youre asking now? What else did the cop say?He wanted to talk to you. I jibe they found 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 close to her, and it wasnt working. And when weari ng her clothes didnt put him closer, hed gone after her the only way he knew how, by sum totaling 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 fur coat that was Mrs. Mainhearts soul vessel meant that the couple would never be together again. Because of him.Oh yeah, Lily added. Mrs. Ling called down all freaked out and yelling all Chinesey about a black bird smashing the window Charlie was off the stool and taking the stairs deuce at a time.Shes in your apartment, Lily called after him.There was an orange tree slick of TV attorneys floating on the top of the fishbowl when Charlie got to his apartment. T he Asian powers were standing in his kitchen, Mrs. Korjev was holding Sophie tight to her chest, and the infant was virtually swimming, trying to run for the giant marshmallowy canyon of protection 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 mixed 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 recovered from the bird hitting the window and the mad dash down the steps, but she was now viewing an uncharacteristic shyness, afraid that Charlie might notice the yield spot in the pocket of her frock where the recently deceased Barnaby Jones lay orangely a wait introduction to some wonton, green onions, a pinch of fivesome 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 intimidate us. Not so bad now.Charlie looked to Mrs. Korjev. Where?On our floor. We are talking in hall. Speaking 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 tolerant. I have to go. Mah-jongg night at temple.We come in, lock door, explained Mrs. Korjev. Fish are fine. Put Sophie in car seat 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 picking up his sword-cane. He led the two women to the little elevator, did a quick assessment 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 looking 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 lot 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 next 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 casting shadows nearly straight down. He looked back at the two windows.Did you s ee that?You mean break window? Mrs. Ling said, slowly approaching the window and peering through the jamming 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 vaporing flies, under Columbus Avenue, in a wide pipe junction where several storm sewers met, Orcus, the old-fashioned One, paced, bent 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 smoldering 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. Except for Nemain, who was beginning to show a gunmetal comforter of bird feathers over her body, they were devoid of depth two-dimensional absences of light, absolute black even in the gloom filtering down through the storm grates shadows, silhouettes, really the darker ancestors of the redbrick 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 wicket 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 shine off the dirt and detritus until they shone like debone china.We flew, said Nemain. She took a moment to admire the neutral 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 shade 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 rapidly 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 wraith 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 and we are so close now. Two Above in such(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 f ruit 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 recognize how damp and musty it is down here. Is there any reason that we cant have a window? closed 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 favourable Rush ship where they made their home.