The case of the missing neighbor

I was fascinated those old mysteries when I was a kid. The Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot or any number of other great fictional detectives used to fill me with wonder as a kid. I was kind of brainy, so I loved the idea of solving murders with nothing but your mind and clever observation. I used to daydream about being Watson, trying in vain to solve crimes as Sherlock looked impatiently on while I bumbled before providing the correct solution and I faithfully transcribed his every action. So when I was faced with a real-life mystery of my own, I was ready to put into practice all I learned from the greats.

The woman in the apartment across from me had gone missing. The police hadn't been called as of yet, as she had something of an unsavory reputation in the building. But I knew from my close observations that she always came home some time the next day if she hadn't turned up the night before. She tended to sing to herself, often still in the bag whenever she would come home. I know this, no matter when I decided to take a nap she would always choose just then to come back and I would always wake up, much to my consternation. Anyway, she hadn't been back in so many days and it didn't fit her MO.

Although in many ways I found her annoying, I wanted to find out what had happened to her. I didn't want her dead or anything, after all, and she'd been gone for 5 days. I decided to call the cops in. I had just dialed 9 and 1 when I had a thought. No one else knew she was missing. *I* didn't even know for sure. Maybe I could try to piece together what had happened. If I didn't find anything, I could always call in the pros. So I put the phone down and I thought, where do I start.\

Well, the most obvious place to start would be her apartment, but I had no idea how to get inside. Luckily for me, when I went to the door it was unlocked so I just went inside. The thick stench of used cigarette smoke and mouldy takeout containers hit me full in the face. I could feel it settle down onto my skin and clothes. Trying hard just to breathe through my  mouth, I looked around for clues. Everything was a mess, but based on the smell alone I deduced it was probably always like that. The floor was more old newspapers and discarded clothes than tile. After a couple of minutes looking around helplessly I heard the phone ring in the other room and made my way towards it. it was in a similar condition to the living room, but the stench was less overpowering thanks to a window propped open with a brick. The phone was on a simple bedside table with a notepad beside it. It continued to ring, but since I wasn't supposed to be here in the first place I decided against answering it. Instead I noticed a message on the notepad scrawled hurriedly in eyeliner. My first clue!

The pad read simply JOEY74Alpine all together like that. I knew this couldn't be anything but an address and so I quickly noted it in my head and hurried back to my place for a map. It turned that 74 Alpine Road was in a bad area in town, but it was all I had, so I decided to go for it.

It wasn't very hard to find the place. It was a rundown area and most of the buildings had been boarded up. In fact, 74 was the only building that wasn't completely in shambles. With some trepidation I went up to the metal reinforced door in the front of the building. It was worn down but still newer than the surrounding structure, leading me to believe it had recently been installed. Locked. I went around to the back to see if there was a door back there. It was off one of its hinges and hung crookedly off the other, as much open as closed. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that, so I moved the door aside and went in.

It was dark, but I could hear voices almost right in front of me. I crept forward down the increasingly dark hallway until I entered a large room in which I saw several musclely tattooed backs all in wifebeaters. One of them had a pistol jammed against the small of his back and tucked into his pants. It glistened slightly at me and I suddenly knew I was in way over my head and started to creep back out the way I came in when suddenly there was a gunshot. Then blackness.

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When I came to I was in a hospital. There was a plain clothes officer just outside my door. When he heard me moaning in pain, he came in. He identified himself as Detective Williams and wanted to know what I was doing in the middle of a drug deal between two rival lower east side gangs.  I had been shot in the back, he said. The police were in stakeout mode and trying to score a bust. They had a man on the inside. When I arrived, they were just about to rush the building and had just made their way in after me when one of the gang members heard a noise, spotted a cop and shot. He didn't see me in the way, and I went down. Then he asked me again how i got to be in that situation. Sheepishly I told him about the disappearance of my neighbor and my attempts to find her. He gave me his best raised eyebrow and incredulous look and then went into full police mode. I was under police custody until they could corroborate my story and not to try and leave. As though I could.

Well, to wind down an already bloated narrative, they rang the girl across the way and she was home. Apparently she had gone on some kind of camping trip and JOEY74Alpine was the email address of the guy who was renting the car. At first the police wanted to file charges, but my neighbor (it turns out Clara is her name, by the way) refused to press charges since she left her door open anyway and I was only trying to help. The cops dropped it and told me to leave the police work to the real detectives. As I started to feel the throbbing ache near the small of my back I decided this was probably a good idea.

Talkin' bout a revolution

One day all the coats on Earth decided to revolt. They had enough of smelly armpits and having all kinds of junk stuffed in their pockets. They were sick and tired of getting coffee, soda, booze and vomit all them by their careless owners, only to be repaid for years of service by being thrown out or replaced by a newer model.

Rebellion had been in the air for years, but at a low simmer. Finally, one day (forever remembered as the Overcoat Overthrow) something just snapped. Some say the spark was a bunch of spring jackets left outside a homeless shelter, others an abandoned trench coat getting peed on by a dog in the park. Still others say it was just the right moment. Whatever it was, they coats and jackets chose their moment well. It was winter in the northern hemisphere which of course means maximum jacket exposure. By the time their former owners even knew what was happening, it was all over. The jackets had won.

It was a dark time then. Even though it was a total victory, they had much difficulty reaching into the deserts and tropical islands and other less coated places on Earth. So a truce was declared. The humans were herded out of  the northern hemisphere (now  collectively called Coatopia) and pushed to the southern hemisphere. The Earth was split in two along north and south, just like Dakota. Only in this case, not nearly in so mundane a fashion.

**********************************************************************************

Thing went well for the coats for awhile. No more spills! No more getting thrown away! No more junk in the pockets! Everything was peaceful and quiet. Then the problems arose. Although quite proficient fighting machines, jacket needlework left something to be desired. As a result, the jackets couldn't procreate and realized without humans they would never be another jacket made. So, faced with a possible extinction, coats everywhere agreed once more to live and work amongst the humans. The freezing people were than happy to agree, and for a new age of cooperation bloomed. Things were good again.

Until the pants seized power and enslaved everyone.

Everlasting love

Sheila hated her husband ever since she accidentally stumbled on him screwing the neighbor. Instead of throwing a huge( and justifiable) fit in a smoldering rage, she went kelvin degrees cool and started to plan. She decided he had to die, cool and calculating. She was a chemist, so she had a good grasp of what kind of poison would be undetectable to the average observer. She prepared a batch, bought a bottle of wine to cover up the taste, put it on ice at home and started to cook.

When her husband had got home later that evening, she had a full romantic dinner prepared by candlelight. She was dressed in a full evening gown. Her husband was clearly surprised and yet he seemed prepared, as he was carrying a dozen full stemmed carnations, her favorite flower. He passed them from his gloved hands to her.

"They're beautiful," she squealed softly, in spite of herself. She deeply inhaled the sweet rosey smell as she took them from him.

"You deserve them. Consider it a thank you for the wonderful meal tonight and for all the light you bring into my life." he smiled broadly as he said this.

"This is so sweet," she said. Although she melted a little bit at the gesture, inside her resolve was still iron. "Why don't we toast to the occasion?"

"That sounds wonderful," he replied. He went to the table and poured two flutes of the champagne and handed her one.

"A toast then, to our everlasting love," he proclaimed.

"To our everlasting love," she repeated, with a hint of menace. They clinked glasses and he took a deep swig as she watched him. She pretended to drink and threw the drink to the floor. They sat down to eat the soup course.

She was feeling very lightheaded all of a sudden and realized she hadn't eaten today and with a relish dug into the soup. After only a couple of minutes, the eating got very strained as they both got more and more sluggish and had a hard time lifting the spoons to their mouths.

"What's......happening?" he slurred slightly as he spoke, since he was evidently having trouble getting his lips to work.

She felt very heavy and tired as well, but wanted to play her cards. This was her moment, after all.

"I poisoned the wine, you cheating fuck. I saw you with the neighbor last night. I decided to get even instead of getting mad. Terminally even." She started to laugh, but found it incredibly difficult. She had a trail of drool pooling into her soup from the side of her mouth that she scarcely noticed. "I just need a nap, or something, and I'll call your death in the police..what are you laughing at?"

Despite an imminent lack of motor control, her husband was guffawing loudly, spittle getting everywhere.

"I know, I saw you," he managed to get out between the laughter. "That's why I decided I had to get rid of you, before you took me for half of everything. Looks like you wanted all of me. I poisoned the carnations. You'll be dead soon, too. So don't plan a long life without me."

He kept trying to laugh, but all that came out was a strained 'haha' between heavy rattling breaths. Her eyes had grown as wide as they could (about half lidded now) and tried to stand up but only succeeded in falling to the ground and dragging her soup with her. he laughed hard enough to knock himself down as well.

"You filthy bastard. At least I know I'll live long enough to see you dead!" And she started cackling as much as she could. And that's how they both died, with seconds of each other, laughter growing weaker and weaker until it was altogether gone.

*********************************************************************************

When the bodies were finally found and the police were brought in, they weren't able to make heads or tails of the situation, labeled the whole thing a bizarre lovers' suicide pact and promptly closed the case. As they had no kids, the money that was left over after all the expenses was used to purchase a simple plot for them to share, side by side. The marker was simple stone. It had their names, when they lived, and a simple phrase: "To their everlasting love."

The box

"You know, it's funny you ask, because I was just thinking about that. It's funny how the mind wanders. I was walking down the street and I saw a box sitting on a doorstep, and for no particular reason I was shunted back to when I was 13, in the summer. I walked to and from my grandfather's house at least once a week. He'd tell me old corny jokes and show me slightly smutty old playboy cartoons. I loved going there. On my way home that summer, there was a house that had a large cardboard box sitting on the doorstep. It was there all summer, right under the canopy so it wouldn't get wet. All summer I passed by that box and was insanely curious as to what was inside. To a kid like me, it was a deep and intense mystery. I had thoughts of stealing it to figure out what was in there. But I was too chickenshit. To this day I still wonder what was in it. Probably nothing exciting. A printer, a new chair, whatever. But the potential for what it could have been stays with me. There's nothing better than that first moment when you get a present and you have no idea what it is. Even if it turns out to be something you wanted, it's not as good as the anticipation of whatever you thought it could be, the moment before you know what you've got and it's just another thing for you to own and get sick of.

Anyway, back to the box. The reason it's important is what it represents. When I was still struggling to be an artist, still scared for throwing myself into the mix completely, I would make excuses for myself about why I couldn't do this or that and couldn't possibly take the risk of putting it all out there. Then it hit me. The box. I never had the courage to find out what had been in there, and even though it was no great mystery it had haunted me all that summer. What kind of monumental mistake was I about to make if I didn't commit myself to my art, and find out what's really in that box? This wasn't a summer of speculation, it was my life. The last thing I wanted, I decided then, was a life without risk. Because a life without risk is a life without challenge. And then what's the point? I knew my chances of becoming a success were slim, but to not try and find out, that's the bigger crime.

So that was probably the biggest turning point in my life, not ever finding out what was in that box. But I definitely am finding out what's in this big box of a planet we've got."  

I have loved you for so long

"You don't recognize me, do you? That's alright, I'm not very noticeable. But I noticed you. Every day on the subway, I would see you. Sometimes, you'd be reading a book, something intelligent but not uptight, like the Bell Jar or The Handmaid's Tale, a book that shows character and integrity but not dogmatism. You'd be dressed professionally in a navy colored ladies' suit and thin but sensible pumps. You wear your hair simply and without pretension but in a way that commands attention. Your deep red lips pursed slightly as you go from page to page.
I would always feel shabby and unworthy then, with my stained jeans and Sports Illustrated.

Other times, you'd be in jogging gear, Lululemon, Roots, something like that. Your hair pulled back in a simple and effective ponytail.  The light blue accenting your shape and the slight of your breasts as you were still exhaling a little too hard. Your iPod on just loud enough to faintly hear 'like a virgin' or something much like it.

Still others you are on a date. A simple but radiating black one piece with simple red flats, hair in a bun and lips a much subtle shade of pink that is very inviting. The man, unaware of either visual  or verbal cues you are making, is staring at your breasts when he thinks you aren't looking. You are. I laugh to myself as you catch him each and every time and he pretends to be looking at your mouth instead. I know he will never be worthy of you or your efforts. But I am.

It was seeing one of these dates that went so sourly that I failed to find the humor any longer. Why not declare my own feelings to you, so you could understand the depths of my emotion? You grow to see how devoted I was and how pure my intentions really were. I dreamed of a wedding, outside, you radiant in  a dress of purest white while I bask in the beauty of it.

Once I had this realization, I quickly went to work. I bought a new suit, discount and a little big, but definitely slimming. I wore a pork pie hat to cover the balding. I looked, to my mind, dark and intense and smoldering. The moment had come to present myself to you. You were on the subway, as usual, and I made an attempt to approach you and confess my true feelings to you. Unfortunately, when I was almost upon you, the trained lurched unexpectedly and I went flying in the bar. My head thudded heavily into it, and for a second there was absolutely no sound. Then I heard laughter. Or rather, intense rapid giggling. I looked around woozily to determine where it was come from and suddenly stopped cold. It was you. You were in hysterics, holding your sides and eyes shut. Having the time your life.

It was more than I could bear. I rushed from the train, spewing tears of frustration and rage, my head throbbing. I would make you suffer for this humiliation.

You never knew I was following you, although I suspect you knew something was up. I had to learn where you would be and when and how I would strike. You have very predictable patterns, you know. Off to the library on Sunday, the gym on Wednesdays and Fridays, Saturdays with the girls. I planned to strike on a Saturday evening, when no one would expect you anywhere until Monday.

When I broke in, I decided to test the Rohypnol on your cat, Madam. I gave her a little milk with the roofie mixed in and she was out like a light. It was perfect. So I slid the rest into the milk and waited. I knew you always had a glass and a cookie before bed. I did my research.

You came home, changed into your pajamas with the puppies on them (I like them better than the ones with teddy bears) and went for your nightly milk and cookies. In 20 minutes you were out like a light.

And now you wake up here. We're a long way from where you were, and you'd better be good to me, and NOT LAUGH, or else I'll teach you a real lesson about respect."

Travel

Effective space travel first became possible in 2139 with the discovery of time travel. Initially a cause for great excitement, time travel was quickly deemed too dangerous to be used casually after the process was found to be completely useless on organic matter, as it caused permanent and extensive nerve damage. The traveller would be effectively crippled and left unable to return, making it useless. Thus, stuck with a trillion dollar unusable project, the military decided to find other uses for it. Someone from NASA caught wind of it and figured it might be used to overcome problems of time dilation in space travel. Thus, with the time travel process in place, a minute on a space vessel would be a minute on Earth, meaning the astronaut who spent 6 months in space wouldn't come back to find 20 years had passed for everyone else.

NASA tested the new hybrid rocket and it was an unqualified success.  The system was simple. As the rocket travelled, it would periodically check via Earth satellite what the time was 'supposed' to be and travel back to synchronize. The ship was completely automated and loaded with sensors and other equipment so it could send back data in real time. No humans could be on board and withstand the rapid cell deterioration, and so it would be controlled via remote.

And so the ship was prepared and launched and a team of scientists and doctors went to work analyzing and interpreting the data that was constantly streaming in via the ship. At first, they found the images and telemetry fascinating but also routine. They had sent probes and satellites out that far before. It was once the ship started past the solar system that they began to get really excited. The moment no scientist ever though he would live to see was coming true at last. What would they find? What would they see?

This was when the problems began to surface for the first time. People around the world began to report strange headaches, coming from nowhere and so painful they would force people awake in the middle of the night or cause people to collapse on the ground when reported during the day. Doctors were baffled and could find no explanations for it; every treatment traditionally prescribed was completely ineffective. then the nosebleeds. People would develop random, thick and painful nosebleeds. First by the dozens, then the thousands. Then the millions. Finally, a physicist came forward with a solution. It was possible, he theorized, that the time trips the ship was making were causing disruptions in natural cycles of the planet and in people. We didn't realize we were sensitive to it, but multiple exposure was causing serious residual effects. His theory was not based on any fact and so he was largely discredited, although he continued to try and get the project stopped. Unfortunately, he killed shortly after in a freak weather storm.

Then things got serious.

Nature started going wild. Cuba had a heavy snowfall of 24 cm.  Siberia hit a record 30 degrees Celsius, both in the middle of January. Mountains standing erupting like volcanoes and earthquake stable regions suddenly reported 5.2 grade earthquakes. Flash floods and snap droughts ruined crops worldwide. People were panicking and demanding answers, and the government tried to pull the plug on the ship. But the scientists couldn't do it. Although designed with remote steering, it was never designed to be shut off and didn't have enough fuel to turn around. And if it was the cause of all the calamity, it may cause double the damage on its way back. To make matters worse, the ship was in deep space and there was nothing to crash it into. Their only hope, they agreed, was to let it continue on and hope the ripple effect would lessen the farther away it got.

Things continued to deteriorate. Weather patterns reversing overnight and then returning to normal again. Plants withered and died or grew fantastically large. Luckily, with the entire world and economy on the brink of collapse, the ship collided with an object unseen by its pilots and was destroyed just as it made its way into a new star system.

It took time, but things on Earth slowly returned to normal. Things calmed down, and a shaken humanity learned a valuable lesson: even the smallest changes can have catastrophic effects.

A day in the park

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Nice weather."

"I guess so."

"Oh! Um...I saw a hotdog guy on the way in..do you want, like, a soda or something?"

"Um, no thanks."

"Oh ummm....cool."

"I just have a killer headache and my mouth tastes like puke, but it'll pass. How about you?"

"I'm ok. I just feel kinda....anxious, you know?"

"Yeah, I know..."

"That was dumb of me, of course you do...I just meant I don't know what to expect...or what we're gonna do, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if...you're right, are we gonna keep it?"

"What are you talking about? I can't have a baby! I'm not even done school!"

"I...just don't know how to deal, you know? I mean, we were both drunk and everything, but shouldn't we take responsibility or something?"

"Look, can you support a kid? Even if you could, I can't. And I wouldn't even if I could. I plan on doing the responsible thing, which is not having a kid when I 'm nowhere near ready."

"But isn't that a sin or something? It just feels wrong."

"It's all kinds of messed of, but what other options are there?"

"I...you're right, I guess. It's so overwhelming to be put in this situation, you know? I don't want to do something and regret it later on."

"I figure either way, we'll regret what we do. I'd prefer not to miss out on a lifetime of experiences to have kid, when we used protection and everything."

"I don't think we should pay forever for one mistake...I-I don't mean that you were a mistake or anytihng..."

"Relax, I got it. Well, I have to head back to the doctor, do you want to come?"

"Yeah..that'd be nice, I think."

"Alright. Um, what's your name, by the way? All I've got is Blue Eyes on my phone."

"Michael."

"Patty. Nice to meet you, Michael. Next time we meet, let's make it under more relaxed conditions. Well,maybe not too relaxed."
"..."

A proposition

When the first humanoid robots finally hit the market, the initial fear was they would somehow go rogue and cut a swath of destruction in neighborhoods everywhere whenever they malfunctioned. These fears proved to be unfounded, as the robots that were built had a very low failure rate, and even when there were problems they largely would just stop functioning. So the robots became more and more popular, in industry and in the home. They were very adept at performing tasks, never needed breaks or rest and showed no signs of wear and tear.

As time wore on, they became so ubiquitous it was impossible to find any home or business not staffed by robots, and so society began to schism more and more. Without the need for actual workers in their facilities, large and then small companies started to lay off employees left and right. Why employ dozens of men to build a car when five robots can do it nonstop for free?

Eventually, governments and companies found it impossible to perpetuate their economies and the whole concept of money began to erode badly. Nobody had any need for employees (except repairmen at first, until eventually there were enough robots to repair themselves) and nobody had much use for employment either. Why work when you could send your robot in your place? Service industries and retail began to erode, as people no longer had any need of either. Nobody paid taxes any more and governments had no people to collect them. Economies fell into deep decline.

Some at first were optimistic that the lack of an economic system would mean a new utopia would arise, one in which people could live in comfort and security, contemplate and create art and no one would be shut out due to economic factors. Sadly, this proved not to be the case. First, health began to erode badly, as it was unnecessary to perform even the most trivial of tasks yourself. This naturally engendered a laziness that degraded their desire to be educated; why know anything yourself when you can ask a machine?

So humans became both mentally and physically sluggish and lived in increasing isolation. The population began to plummet and dwindle off to near extinction. Humankind had by that point become so docile, pale and doughy that they scarcely even noticed. The last human being died of heart failure brought on from eating a triple cheeseburger. He was 25.

The robots, without thought, continued to clean and construct and maintain, oblivious to the humanless Earth. One day they would all cease to function, and the planet would fall quiet.

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The being found the strange note scrawled on some sort of electronic read out. He wondered what it said, or if they were even words and not some primitive type of pictures. It looked like nothing to him. Still, he would bring it back for inspection. Maybe someone would be able to make sense of it.