Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.2

And there he was.

He walked in and everyone accepted it as normal. I was suddenly living in bizarro world. I actually thought the boys were pulling some kind of initiation prank on the new guy. But no, he was real. Potentially compromising a crime scene, striding along, giving fist pumps and fake gut punches to everyone he knew.

I looked at Singh and whispered, “the wizard?”

“The wizard” she said nodding, trying to suppress a smile while she pulled her cap over her eyes and stared at her feet.

He was 350 pounds easy. Balding with long hair at the back in a pony tail. He wore a way too small “Who Farted” t-shirt that exposed his lower gut, his outie belly button and stretch marks that resembled a treasure map.

Every pocket in his cargo shorts were filled with something. From a super hero action figure to bottles and sticks.  All of this was contained by a beige trench coat that I had only seen in older movies. The bottom edges were frayed and stained with street salt and dirt.

The stench that followed was unnerving. At first, I thought it was him but it came from his bag.  An older Adidas sports bag faded blue and red, with Rush and Iron Maiden logos.  He pulled out a mason jar. It had a phone immersed in a semi-clear gelatin.  Not a cell phone but a regular cordless home phone.

“Where is the recently deceased” he bellowed, with too much flair and a horribly fake English accent.

The recently deceased was 5 feet in front of him and right in front of me. He couldn’t miss her, his head angled high like a reject from a terrible amateur Shakespeare production playing for the cheap seats. He strutted my way. Unscrewed the jar, pulled out the phone from the jelly. We all reacted to the odor. He lifted the victims top to expose her belly. Took the phone and pressed it on her with both hands. Lifting it quickly in the air, with once again to much drama, kept the phone up for 3 seconds and stared at it.

The “wizard” then turned began to dial with his middle finger on the indentation of a key pad left on her skin.

“Singh, What the fuck?”

“It was in Holy Water jam” she whispered and shrugged.

“Silence” he screamed.” I am calling her soul”.

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