It reminded me of years ago when I was crossing a busy road in London and stopped at the island in the middle and out of nowhere a girl popped up and asked me the directions to Abney Park cemetery which was about 20 metres away. If that wasn’t odd enough, the next Saturday in the same place, what seemed the same girl asked me again. I had to lie down after that. Weird coincidence with someone with short term memory loss or something else? A few days before the doppelganger cropped up, I was driving back into town in the dark-first time I’d left here for almost a year-noticed a car staying behind me which is unusual as I drive a lot slower since picking up two speeding tickets the same day last year. A bit paranoid lately despite being tooled up, especially being a woman at night and with all the stories hear about roaming mobs of Satanists or whatever this week’s scare is. I took a detour off the main drag, pulled over for a smoke for 5 minutes. No-one followed. When I got back to SH1, the same car was coming along as if it had just restarted. I put on a bit of speed but it kept the same distance behind the whole way home, even though I did a ticky tour. I think there were two men it. Haven’t seen them since. No idea what any of this means.
How’s Rick?
H
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PART TWO
Don't send me any more of this crap. I have enough problems as it is. The cafe was closed by the council for a week because an idiot tourist said they found mouse shit in their rice salad. it was a raisin. just leave me alone, I don't need reminding that my sister is a nutter.
PART THREE
Merlin Phoenix Clinton didn't enjoy driving at night. he had to pull the seat closer to the wheel so he could peer myopically into the dark, clenching it tight as he could. He didn't like being spoken to when driving either. Or talk shows on the radio. he especially didn’t like Aaron talking to him at night or any other time. As they passed the 'no doctor, no hospital, one cemetery' sign in Waihola, he knew he would start up. He always did.
*I love that sign. it’s so stupid.
Merlin ignored him but it didn’t work
*Do you like the business cards*no, i don't like the business cards*you don't like the embossed hound on them* yes that’s good. i just don't think you should have put undercover operatives on it*but that's what we are*i know but we don't want anyone else to know that do we*why*because we won't be undercover anymore if they know we're undercover, will we*ah ok, i didn't think of that*anyway, i don’t think we need business cards. i mean, who can we show them to*o k. i could redo them to make them more neutral, so we can give them out to contacts. just names and cell numbers*ok that might be worth it
33 minutes later, the car bumped over a hole, slowed and stopped outside a building. They looked up.
*No light on Merl. actually, no roof on it.
Nothing but the sky. Merlin got his notebook out and leafed through it.
*fuck. give me the map.*we’ve gone to the wrong house haven’t we*yeah, right road, wrong part of town. that’s the problem with the whole no phone, no gps, laptop idea* i need to practice my map reading I suppose. long time since the scouts.
Ten minutes later, outside the right house, it was quiet and it seemed the same inside too. No curtains or blinds were closed giving a view clear through the house to the back garden.
*ironic we have no electronics on us but the whole house is covered*big house for one person, isn’t it*when she turns up, we'll stay for about 5 minutes and that should do the job.*shit, look, the light's gone on, she must have been sitting in the dark*maybe she parks at the back of the house. i'll start the car and see if the noise makes her look out. I'm sure she'll recognise the car from the other day*Merl, drive round the back, she's just put a jacket on.
They parked on the other side of the road, diagonally behind. After a few minutes, a woman came out, stared in their direction, got in the car and drove down the hill.
*this is perfect Aaron, we'll stay with her for 5 minutes then clear off back to the office*can we get something to eat then, i'm hungry as.
Merlin and Aaron sat in the tiny room that was their office at a small table wedged against a wall, eating KFC. The rest of the wall was taken up by computer gadgetry stacked almost to the ceiling.
*my daughter asked me about the ethics of banking this morning and how I can justify doing it. i just said would you prefer we couldn’t afford food. that’s a cop out she said*she’s right though but it doesn’t matter. I don’t particularly like some of the things we do but if we didn’t do it someone else would. anyway, we were offered the franchise not the Wilkins brothers and they’d be far worse*but you’re saying the same as me*no I’m not. I don’t believe in ethics at all. Can’t see the point to be honest. I spent 20 years as an engineer, long hours, dirty, tiring and I never got as much as I earn now for driving round in a car with you. That of course, is the down side* thanks, I appreciate that. Do you ever wonder what this is all about* this woman or the whole thing? *both *not very often. It pays our wages. anyway, enough smoko time, we need to listen some of this audio.
Oscar, you’re an arsehole and your rude. A little bit of sympathy would be nice. You sent me plenty about Rick’s tumour and photos and I didn’t complain. The same car that followed me was outside the house tonight when I left. 2 middle aged men were in it, they didn’t look dangerous but they could be. They had moustaches like that old 118 118 advert. I think I’ll go to the police. What do you think?
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Ok, I’m sorry. I’ve never been to New Zealand but I can’t imagine who would be following you, you’re just not interesting enough. You should go to the police but that might be who it is. Rick is doing well by the way. Let me know what happens.
Oscar
PART FOUR
“what’s this bullshit? Stevens come here. who took
this shit down? Fucking dwarves-this is fucking bullshit. What the fuck is
this, man?
‘There’s more sir; there’s four I think’.
Four report sheets lay in the tray and stared up.
Senior Sergeant Pat Marker’s face contorted into a
rage so hideous, the fly on the wall dropped down dead. The veins on his bald
head bulged out red and his moustache began to twitch; his eyes grew larger,
his breath laboured and his whole body shook, slowly then faster until his
whole head exploded showering blood, snot, brains and a sizeable chunk of ear
wax all over constable Stevens who, luckily, was already wearing his emergency
overalls. His false teeth hit the window and bounced onto the floor, before
scuttering out of the door in search of a new home.
Half an hour later, after everything had been
sucked back in by Dr Strouthous and his trusty vacuum cleaner and the head
patched up, Marker sat at his desk with Senior Constable Burroughs, the only
officer in the station he ever listened to.
23 years in the service had taught Pat many
sophisticated and subtle ways of people management, bullying his inferiors and
sucking up to his bosses, which had given him a solid reputation amongst his
colleagues. As a twat.
‘I’ve been in the service 23 years and I’ve never
even seen a fucking dwarf and now we’ve got vanloads of them driving around
harassing people. what the fuck is this? are these people morons?’.
Words swelled in Burrough’s mouth but his brain
restrained them; Marker still looked edgy enough to explode again if the wrong
expression was used. Only weekly injections of a drug used to sedate psychotic
baboons put him in a state close to human and Burroughs knew most of all how
thin the line could be. As Marker said in his more lucid, reflective moments,
‘if it’s good enough for monkeys, prime ministers and royalty, it’s good
enough for me’.
“do they have beards like the ones in that movie?
maybe that’s what it is, they escaped from the movie set!’
‘sir, how do we know they’re not what they say they
are? Maybe they’re a special section of SIS that’s manned just by dwarves’.
Like a layer of smoke left after the fire is put
out, the words hung there so their absurdity could be savoured
‘don’t be stupid; where would they get them from?
we need to pass this on and get these people talked to. I’ve got better things
to do’.
‘you probably never noticed but one of them
was from your friend Bruce’.
……
‘Bruce, Pat here. what’s this about dwarves?’
‘Hi Pat, I was expecting you to ring. it was really
strange, we’d just got out of Waihola, when we came across this silver van
facing towards us, lights full on and a flashing sign on the roof saying stop.
I thought it was cops because I was speeding a bit so we pulled over and these
three little men got out. they were dressed in black. I thought they were kids.
one of them had a little stool that brought him up to window level so I wound
it down. he said “hello sir’ and showed me an id card’.
‘what did it say on it?’
‘It had a photo of him and across the top said
Internal Security Service and his name, Greg Mabinowski’
‘so what did he say to you?’
‘that they were conducting spot checks for
terrorists in line with a new law which he quoted. Don’t remember it though. He
was very polite; looked at my licence, checked it on his computer and said
thank you very much sir, sorry to bother you, it all looked official. it
is,misn’t it’?
‘no idea. We had other reports as well. Did you get
the licence plate number?’
‘no, couldn’t see it. Just assumed it was some new
thing. It was only because my cousin in balacutha rang me to say he’d been
stopped as well that I thought I’d ring you. he rang the ODT as well.’
‘fuck, no. sorry Bruce, I’ve gotta go-have to find
out what’s going on, I’ll have the ODT down on our necks again’.
PART FIVE
not always obvious where the sky ends and the sea
begins, is it?
if you sailed at it in a boat, you’d find out soon enough;.
I can see the sea but the sea can’t see me.
what if it could though --if it was alive and breathing and conscious;
yeah and when you swam in it you were swimming in
something alive that knew you were in there;
it could drown you or push you back to land;
maybe drowning is the sea wanting you to stay
forever;
I’d prefer it to not want me to be honest.
the universe
is maybe the same, a vast active living intelligence system
just like Dick said-did you read it yet
just like Dick said-did you read it yet
I tried, honest but it was just too hard for me-it made my brain ache.
I’m not into philosophy.
what do you think though-is it possible-I don’t mean
like old man with white beard on cloud but the whole thing alive from us to
stones to dirt and the stars and everything.
and we’re just tiny specks…
we’re not even that
so why your name then-it’s unusual for a first name
I know but you can talk too. If the universe is alive why does it allow
a miserable system to exploit us and suck out our souls
the dog doesn’t allow the flea on its back but it’s
still parasitic.
Ha, ha, now I know you're not being serious.
PART SIX
Meanwhile, after the romantic interlude…
Sanders doesn’t live under his name but with it and
the constant questions of why, well…why Greg? You can’t get more boring than
that or add in your own least favourite name. Sanders lives up 39 steep steps,
always wheezing, reaching the top, meaning to stop smoking four or five times
everyday. Being a security guard doesn’t help, time standing round in the dark,
liking the glowing red after a puff and the smoke being dragged down his
throat.
Today, when the summit is reached he sits in his
chair in front of the computer and reads the ODT for light relief and all the
stories that don’t matter, like motorists being harassed by dwarves in security
uniforms.
What’s that about? Groups of unemployed dwarves
left destitute after the end of the Hobbit’s filming wreaking revenge on Peter
Jackson’s former countrymen? Or an underground race of dwarves predating the
Maori’s arrival and finally coming out to reclaim their land? Or some
fetishistic dwarves deciding to show everyone that little people can dress up
in uniforms as well; at least they haven’t started sodomising anyone yet.
Sanders emailed the link to Hawthorn with the
message, ‘you’ll like this and they had their own stepladder’.
What
if the story was real though? Security dwarves sweeping the south looking for,
well… something. Sanders had a well developed sense of paranoia, nurtured by
experience and a lifetime of mistrust of authority. A list of the culprits is
available on request but it includes the Catholic church, schools and all
previous and current employers. But even so, it seemed unlikely. Apart
from anything else, such as why bother, people notice things like that and
complain. The only answer was it had to be some sort of stunt to advertise
something.
PART
SEVEN
Hi there, good seeing you the other day. Well,
after our talk, I decided it was time to do something about the stalkers so I
took the old fashioned route, like I did with your father before we moved here.
So I did a recce and drove out of town and
found the perfect cul-de-sac which also had a little extra road linking two
driveways that came out further back on the road. I got my Puma Bowie knife and
the old sledgehammer and stuck them on the passenger seat. It was so easy…
As usual, they were waiting on the other side of
the road, looking particularly pleased with themselves. Smug bastards. I set
off really slowly so they had to stay behind quite a bit then sped up as I got
closer to the cul-de-sac. Whoever they are, they’re not very bright as they
just parked up by the last driveway, turned the engine off and waited.
I just sneaked through the bushes and was already
raising the sledgehammer when I came out. The first thing they knew was when
the windscreen shattered and they screamed but by then I was already smashing
the back one. Then I just slashed the rear tyres, went back through the bush
and back in the car and I was away.
Honestly, they were pathetic, one of them shouting,
‘I’m blinded, I’m blinded’, I could still hear them as I drove off. I was
laughing my head off all the way to work. Best day I’ve had since the infamous
BMW incident which, according to Lucy, is still talked about locally.
My only worry is that the stalkers look for
revenge. Suppose it depends on what they’re really up to. Don’t care
really but if I disappear you know who to blame.
Speak soon,
Love
mum
PART EIGHT
Drama student prank answer to 'dwarf' mystery
By Brendan O'Çleary
Senior Sergeant Pat Marker admitted that the case
of the 'Dwarf Security Service' , reported last week in the ODT, was one of the
stranger investigations he has been involved in during his almost 18 years on
the force in Dunedin.
It was also one of the quickest to solve.
Marker and his team only had 3 letters of the van's rego plate plus a vague
description of the type of van to go on. Luckily, one of the scarfie's involved
told his sister, who told her mother who phoned Marker directly.
All four students involved were quickly invited to
Dunedin Central Police station, where they given a stern talking to by Marker.
As he explained, 'I was quite cross with them as it could have had serious
consequences. They realised this and are very apologetic about this stunt. It
was for this reason that we decided not to charge them or release their names
as we don't want to see a spate of copycat actions'.
However, not everyone approves of this approach.
Calvin Malkevic of the Sensible Sentencing Trust warned that it sent the wrong
message to other students. 'These students have been let off scott-free for the
crime of impersonating security officials. Due to the lack of punishment, I
wouldn't be surprised to see similar future copycat actions'.
Pat Marker thinks the likelihood of a repeat is
low, not least because neither he nor the perpetrators are going to reveal how
it was done.
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