As I sit in the car, I realise I am covered in blood. Also, there must be a slow dripping of blood from the carcass in the hood. What have I done, and how am I going to sort this mess out? At the moment, Jed is the one dealing with this. He’s clearing up MY mess.
We head to a junkyard, in the hope of using the crusher to hide the bodies. Yes, we will have to kill the pimp. He knows too much, and well, he uses children as prostitutes. Jed’s presence still soothes the pimp, although it is very clear to all of us that he HAS to die. Jed’s soothing voice and statements of assurance fill the air like a lead weight.
We find a junkyard, and we stop outside it,as it is sensibly locked by a chain and lock at the gates. We step out of the car, to discuss the details of the pimp’s fate. Israel wanders off to look at the nearby graffiti… avoiding the deadly pools in his path.
Jed needs to feed, but won’t kill the pimp. The undertone is clear- this is MY mess, and my responsibility. I wanted to kill him anyway. I let him feed, and at the right moment, step in and break his neck. We place the body in the car. Jed takes both guns in the hood and decides on keeping one.
Something’s wrong. I feel like we are being watched. I look up and in the shadows, hanging from one arm by its claws, under a nearby bridge. Lupine. QUE CAGAZO!!
The junkyard is HIS territory. No way we can go in there now. We’ll have to blow the car up and run. This is what we do. We collect Israel and set the car alight. The Lupine watches on. We run, Israel helpfully warning me about the puddles as we run. I suddenly realise that the Lupine has my scent. He can track me now. I run faster. I see the little girl too late, I run straight through her.
There is no time to help the spirits, now is the time to run in order to not join them. I shout “SORRY!” as I pass through her. She disappears as I pass through her icy shadow. Israel thinks I’m sorry about something else…
Minutes later, we hear the car explode. And also have no idea where we are. I am still caked in blood and need to change clothes. we walk until we can find our bearings. I jump over a fence at the back of a house to get some clothes hanging on a line… to encounter a dog barking at me, and charging. it bites my arm and I fling it over to the front of the house. It isn’t hurt too much, and the owners are now distracted enough for me to get a shirt… I take note of the street name, so I can make amends another time.
I hop over the fence, grab a plastic bag floating around in the street, and change my shirt.
I have my bearings now, and we go to a church hall, where there should be a phone- this neighbourhood doesn’t have working pay phones. Jed looks mean enough to keep the local street kids away… enough for Israel, whose Armani suit makes him a target, to be discounted.
I have found my bearings due to a Samba gig with my group, fronted by Pappa D, my Ghoul. I go to the Church hall’s door and hear women chatting. I knock on the door, and discover a knitting group. I am polite, offer five dollars for use of the phone, and get Pappa D to send his nephew to pick us up- he doesn’t know of our nature…
We walk in a wide circle so as not to attract undue attention before the car arrives. We are taken to a Samba party, and I feel better in the 3/4 length combats and thongs on my feet, that Pappa D has provided (I dumped the bloody clothes in the bin at the church hall). At the party I notice candle lit on wires outside. wonder who died, and why I can’t see them… I can feel my Spiritual connection is very weak. I need to find some sort of peace. Feel myself again.
I move towards the music, nod a greeting to Pappa D, but am in no state to be in the limelight, by talking to him- he is the focus of the music, and therefore the soul of the party. I nod to people in greeting- They know my ways- I am offered a drum, and join the pulse of the music. I am home. I am part of the driving force of the dancing and celebration. I find my equilibrium.
I see Jed is uncomfortable with his surroundings and finds refuge with an old man I recognise, who is at the party’s edge, enjoying the young people dancing and singing. They are sat down and talking. Israel, bless him, is dancing. He’s not making a fool of himself- he seems to get the spirit of the celebrations. Finding my peace, I pass the drum to someone and head over to Jed and the old man, confirming that St. Augustine’s Church used to be known as St. Augustine’s chapel long ago. It is the same place then. I enquire as to who we are remembering. It’s a young boy shot recently. 15 years old. a street artist. Son of a local guitarist, “little Ghost”. It happened two weeks ago. I look around for his spirit, but I cannot see him. Obviously,I am not quite connected to the spiritworld as I normally am. Israel makes pleasant goodbye’s to the old man, but ends by saying that he talked of a beautiful lie, and walks away. I turn to the old man and srhug. I have no idea what he was talking about. I should listen more carefully.
We get a cab to the chapel. Jed obviously does not want to go inside. He WATCHES churches, he doesn’t go inside. His Demons keep him outside. He doesn’t talk about it, but I can see that the Christian God is linked to his past- judging by the way Israel and Jed never talk about the subject. It’s like a verbal black hole that pushes out, rather than sucks in. A lot of pain there, bubbling under the surface.
Jed waits in the shadows opposite the main chapel as Israel and I go inside. I smell our kind inside, and the tobacco smoke of one smoking in this sacred place. Funny how stone buildings can hold some essence of the spiritworld… I notice a girl spirit at the doorway, but keep my attention on this realm. For now.
I notice two females and one male in the chapel of our kind, along with the smoker. He introduces himself as Flannery. an Irishman who babbles in political talk, alluding and hinting, poisonous verbal shadowtalk. I stare at him, waiting for him to get to the point: to admit that he wants to overthrow the Queen. Please shut up with your talk of “freedom” and “oppression”… your use of the word “power” holds more truth than anything else you say. Anda a la puta madre que te pario!
Apparently, Flannery reacts to Israel’s connection to the spirits like most people. Discounts his validity, underestimates his words, because he is not listening to his own spirits- it is only by being who you are that you can be connected to others, and it is only by being connected to others that you can be connected to the spirits… YOUR spirit.
I wonder why I gave him my name. I think it’s only fair as he gave his… Anyway, I tire of his wind and announce that I’m going to talk to the girl by the door. his look tells me he thinks I’m as valueless as Israel.
Edina lost her mother. by her clothes, she looks to have been alive in the 1800’s something evil happened to her, but she doesn’t want to remember. She was brought here to die, and she is waiting for her mother. Her mother hasn’t come, and she is crying.
A spark of inspiration comes to me as to how I can help this spirit travel to her spiritworld. I walk up to the altar and light a candle, breathing my own well wishing for her safe passage home. She fades away from my awareness, and I get a sense that she is released from this world. I sigh in relief.
At least I did something right this evening. I wait for Israel, who has concluded his conversation, and they have all left out some back way. Israel picks up Flannery’s stub and mutters something about another “Beautiful lie”.
We walk towards Jed. we need to talk about what we should do next. Getting a portable phone and a detailed map of the city would be a good start. As well as keeping an eye on the police activity of the exploded car… I should talk to my contact, the Lieutenant, and see what he can tell me…