Arthur knew he was on his way out the door in Police Department. Things had not been going right in his investigations and the “collars’ just weren’t there. The Captain had said, “Van if you can’t handle yourself here, there are others waiting for your spot. Artie, there is treatment available for you. check them out. This kind of thing could happen to anyone. But i’m telling you, I’m warning you.You get out there and make a major case or you’re out the door! Last chance on the merry-go-round, you better grab that ring and shove it in my face! Here! See what you can make of this.” Artie stood there, “...and what did I do? nothin’. I stood there and took his bullshit and didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t really now remember what he said. Treatment, ha and this nonsense spanish gibberish letter.
Una Carta a la Policia,
Cunando pasas c’icuerdate demi’
Como eras chora, AsI era una vez
como soy ahora vas aser
Prepararse para la muerte y Sigueme
Policia, por favor ayuda No esperes
The little bell at the door announced Artie as he walked into the cool store. It was an old store, Little Athens, it was called. Wood floors and old style display cases. It smelled of deli meat and various cheese and breads, pickles ,olives. In the case there was a variety of greek side dishes like stuffed grape leaves, all kinds of finger food that you really didn’t know what it was. But if you knew Nick like Artie did, you know it’s heavenly, although unidentified. Jars of various spices and Nick’s own bottled, pickled vegetables, wines,liquer behind the counter. Nice tables, but very few. boston ferns in the windows, you know the scene. “Nick!” Artie called out, but Nick was right there, Artie hadn’t seen him. “What! you gone blind now too? It’s over on the counter.” Artie walked over and took a glass and filled it,went over to a table and sat down. “You know some Spanish, don’t ya Nick?” “Muy poco”,he returned. “Here, what do ya make of this?” Artie tossed the spanish letter to him and Nick looked at it. Artie went over to the freezer and filled his glass again with the chilled ouzo. Nick looked at Artie head down, through his thick eybrows, “Looking for the Kefi today my friend?” Artie shrugged him off. “You may need another, when I tell you what this says.” Intrigued, he bent closer to listen. “Let’s have it.” Nick sat down and spoke quietly,” Artie, what happened today? I can not see your eyes, your soul. Where is my friend? You have a suspicious spirit about you.” Artie bit his cheek,” You gonna tell me or what?” Nick sighed and said, “Alright, Remember me as you walk by, As you are now, so once was I. As I am now you are sure to be. Prepare for death and follow me. The first part announces a letter to the police. The last part says, Police please help. Don’t wait.” Artie found himself sitting on a bench in what he called,” Marble Town” He had words going through his mind ,not his own but foreign, with a strange accent. “ I move through marble town almost every day. I look for family, belonging. Familiar faces of stone are who I seek. I find comfort in the inscriptions. Few friendly, I have to say; some outrageous, most are meek.”. “Artie, Artie! hey!, you alright? You’re a bit pale there, Vivian! bring some water for Artie, I fix you a Gyro. Stay put! Vivian, where’s that ice water?” “ I’m comin’,there.Artie, take a short drink. I’ll put some on your neck.” Artie sat straight and looked around him, he knew he left, he didn’t say anything but ate the Gyro. He hadn’t eaten that day and he felt unsettled, “Look guys, I gotta go, I’ll take care of this later.” the bell rang behind him. Nick looked at his wife,” Viv, you got Angies number, I’m callin’ Angie this time.” It was like someone’s finger in my back pushing me , driving me.The voice was there the whole time. By now Artie had learned to try to ignore it but this time there was no resolve, it was relentless. he gave in, “Alright you want this? Let’s see what ya got.” The city blocks flew by, he didn’t have time to notice landmarks but all the same, knew where he was being pushed to. He was tired, almost in a run, crossing streets not watching, being yelled at and cursed. He stumbled on the curb and fell to the wet concrete in the pissing rain. His hand bled and wrist hurt in catching himself in the fall. He had hit his head as well and blood trickled from his brow and stung his eye. Pigeons watched him and pecked at the ground and looked as though they were appalled with his drunken behavior; they moved about, calmly. “There, there it is.The gate, open, thank God. I’ll go inside and sit and rest.” He made his way to a bench and flopped down, that’s when the voice came, loud, direct,as if someone was speaking in his ear. “I move through Marble Town almost everyday. I look for family, and belonging. Familiar faces of stone are who I seek.” Artie swept around looking as if someones’ cold hand touched his neck. Shivers ran down his chins and his hackles bristled. His eyes felt hot with a sort of anger. Loudly the voice sang, “I walk all the time!” It was angry, complaining , moaning, “ I sit when I can. There is one spot I find, at a certain time of day, that gives my mind some ease. My pain goes away. The birds, the same old birds, at least I think, I know. But they come and are there and they don’t fly away. Tell me why they don’t fly away, anymore. Why!? When others come they flit and go. Why, why?” Artie sat, wide eyed craving ouzo. his clothes were damp, he felt embarrassed. It was cool now, a fog had drifted in from the river. The stones and monuments wavered in their parade. Angels appeared staring at the ground or to the sky, hands folded, catching a glimpse of him when he wasn’t looking, but he felt their glare like ants crawling on his skin. Artie stayed still and lit a cigarette .Calming now, the episode over, A short man or maybe a woman, couldn’t tell with a scarf, umbrella and handled shopping bag sat juxtaposed to him across the walkway. He has a cane and a grim face and in his fist he clenched a tablet and what appeared to be a soiled court document. He was full of hate and dissent. Writing for what seemed like hours he didn’t take notice of me, just like the pigeons. After a time, he cast out and down, frustration raining from his tablet and hobbled down the walkway tossing bits of paper torn from the document. No one sees, just me, alone, on the bench. I tried to call after him but he was gone as quickly as he arrived. I hover and take all I see and followed this strange person picking up after him until there was no more……….. soaked to the bone, Artie went home only to find Angie waiting for him, the apartment filled with cigarette smoke, pacing back and forth looking at him with sheer annoyance. “Alright let’s hear the lame excuse of the month. Where the hell have you been? I get this call from Viv, Nick and her are hysterical. Nick yellin in the back ground. I go down there they tell me you’re off in la la land again. look at you, you look like you been run over by a steamroller, I mean Artie, what the hell? Go, get out of those wet clothes for God’s sake; you act like a four year old. Artie; ya went to college an’ you act like you didn’t graduate kindercare! Give me that coat.What’s all this in your pockets, this paper stuff?” “STOP” don’t do anything with that, it’s important.” “ Look, Artie, this is sloppy wet paper in your pockets and it’s important?” “Yes, I think I’m onto something, it’s evidence. Look don’t you have some nails to paint or a hair appointment to do? I’m alright, thanks for checking in .Let’s do dinner, later this week.” “Yeah? Dinner later? Look you moron, you tell me whats going on in that pea brain of yours. Artie there’s people around you that care about you, and love you [or use, to before the dinner comment].” “ Ok, Babe I can’t tell you about it yet, I could be wrong. Let me sort this out, I just got a little scared at Nicks that’s all.” “ When you gonna get someone to clean up this trap of yours? Give me one of those wet hugs you’re famous for. You call me now, if you get scattered again, I’ll ground ya!” Angie opened the door and walked through. Artie heard her say, “ Poor Bastard, God love him.” and she floated down the hall. The dry clothes felt good and the temperature fell with the fog and rain. I didn’t feel like eating, Nick makes an all day Gyro which was fine with me. I went to the fridge and got a beer and lit a smoke, sat down at my table and started drying out the papers I took. Addresses, short phrases, rhyming words, doctors appointment times, no names. Artie, why would you think there’d be names, you’re smarter than that. Artie whipped around, checking the shadows, pulled on his cigarette and gulped some beer. Voices would come and go all day long and sometimes in the night he’d wake sitting in his chair. I think of them like having tinnitus if you listen for it its there if you don’t there’s no noise. Another gulp of beer and open another, smudge the smoke and relite. Leaning back he noticed the stack of newspapers, why he got them he really didn’t know, he never looked at them. Being a cop he knew everything that was going on in the city and that was enough contact with the real world. Messing with the scraps of paper he started getting an idea.He got the phone over to the table and called the Desk Sargent. “ Who’s on call tonight?” “You are Princess and you’re late!” “No no no I’ve been on something all day. You got it wrong pal, I’m doing overtime. Three nights ago, we had a messy one, what was that address?” “219 West Third #402. They called it quits on that one and it wasn’t three nights ago, it was three months. Holy crap, Artie when you gonna get with it? “When I get around to it, doughnut boy.” “Haaha ok, watch yourself out there.” Artie caught the train and got to the scene, still taped off. He went to the back of the building and walked up the fire escape. He could feel someone watching him and he tried hard not to show it. Fourth floor this it Artie looked down to the street below pretty ballsy crime from up here. He picked the lock and went in, he felt the ghosts there. Went to the aprtment and picked the lock and walked in. Overcome with the sight, the room shrank in on him and the presence was powerful. I had a small flashlight with me and started looking around. The body was gone but you knew where it had been and the odor was still there.The quite was deafening, it was a whisper this time when it came, clear exact,inches from my ear. “ I’ve saved all these pages. Like rose petals they are a mystery to me. They have been left for me to follow him. I have many timesnow with no reason, but somehow want or need to follow; I do. i chance to see clippings from the newspaper. Dastardly deeds done to women. Notes likerose petals, left as a serial killer would. The air became frigid I could see my breath Familiar words,from where I’m not sure I could hardly catch my breath as it hit home to me. The voice was so close to me it was as though it was in me more. “I recall things familiar. I know now all is there. Prepare for death and follow me.. I broke free from her and ran out of the door. The light in my hand shook as it caught glimpses of red petals on the floor.I got to the fire escape and breathed in only to see the stranger walk under the streetlamp silhouetted in the pissing rain tapping the cane and the sound of humming. I have slide down the steps to catch up and I followed at a distance. I find him at the stairway in amber evening light. Waiting for his darkness before he makes his strike. Another lonely woman. In the shadows he awaits. I stand right there he has no care I follow him up the backstairs, no concern from him. Into the hallway so very dim, he walked into her room like a ghost his weapon was poised to extinguish his host. I stood there unbelieving of what I saw. When the Police came, I was there with the blood and knife on the floor. There was no one that I could call. The air chilled again and the officers felt her and she whispered; As I am now you are sure to be, Prepare for death and follow me. The short stranger hobbled down the street. And under a streetlamp, He laughed a low laugh. He took a rose from his lapel and blew on it. The petals came down with the pissing rain. The newspaper said the crimes of “El Rosa” have been solved.
Case Closed
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