Fey stood in front of the freezers in Manny's Grocery Store. She'd already gotten the dog food, carrots, apples, some beef and beans to make chili, three potatoes, and some sugar cookies. All that was left was to get the milk and tea. She reached out and grabbed the skim milk carton closest to her and placed it in her basket. Walking towards the aisle the tea was on, she heard a loud crash. Upon reaching the aisle, she saw a woman pushing her cart down the aisle quickly and a young clerk picking up the coffee cans that now littered the floor. She'd recognized that woman. She was the one who always got off on the 5th floor, she remembered because she'd tried to keep her eyes averted from Fey's presence nearly as much as Fey did to hers.
Fey's attention was brought back to the mess in front of her by the mutterings of the clerk.
"I can't believe she just left this for me to pick up. Bitch."
"Here let me help you," Fey said bending down.
"Thanks, they're supposed to be stacked in a pyramid." The pair was finished picking up the mess in a matter of minutes.
"Thank you again, I just don't get why some people feel that they can just leave their own messes to others to clean up."
"I'm sure she has a good reason for rushing off. Maybe she'd left something on the oven." Fey was hoping that by suggesting that she had a good reason to rush off the clerk's aura would lighten and her less than understanding words wouldn't come back to haunt her. No luck.
"Maybe, but more than likely she's just a self-centered cow." With that the clerk walked off.
On her journey home, Fey thought over the clerk and wondered why people could think such mean thoughts about others without knowing the whole story. It was one of the problems of the world. Ever since Fey had decided that most world problems were attributed to people not being understanding, or even trying to be, she had done her best to only think positively of others. Fey knew that there had to be a reason bad things happened, and that Karma did exist. It had to. Just like fate. It was meant to happen. She was meant to find apartment 81 in Washington Heights and Finicky.
Back at the building. Fey had deposited the groceries and gotten Finicky. She had planned to go straight to her shop to open after lunch, but decided to take a ride on the elevator first. Going up the elevator another person got on. He was thin, looked under-nourished and tired. He looked at her with such a calculating stare that Fey had to look away. Fey didn't even wait to see which floor he got out on or if he was even going up or down. The next floor that the doors opened on to admit someone into the elevator Fey got off on with Finicky. Deciding she had better go open up, Fey chose to use the stairs. Outside the building Fey turned right and walked past a small fenced in area. When she reached her shop, The Wrath, she paused, as did Finicky, and, before opening the door and going in, looked to both sides, not because she was scared, she had no reason to be. The Sun was still up.
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As I cooly glided in the dimly lit bar, cigarette smoke filled my nostrils. “This is the place,” I thought. I glanced around and only saw a few patrons. It was still early. In a shadowy corner there was a woman wearing a red dress and an expressionless face. Our eyes met. “I’ve got work to do,” I thought and looked away. As I was sitting down at the bar, a glint of light caught my eye. In the reflection of the mirror I saw it. Under the bar was a M1014 Combat Shotgun. It was a semi-automatic, made by the Italians. Currently it was only used by the U.S. Marine Corps. Under that I spotted a box of flashbangs. This was no ordinary bar.
“So what’ll it be?” The bartender interjected.
“Jose Cuervo and keep it coming,” I said. After downing 8...or maybe 9 shots, the bartender asks,“What kind of work do you do?”
“Some call me an old fashioned cowboy, but I’m a simple bounty hunter. I also do other odd jobs if my wallet calls for it. Here’s my number if you ever have anything that needs doing.” On my second try I swiped a pen off the bar and wrote my number on a cocktail napkin. The bartender said nothing but pocketed the napkin. I stopped him from pouring me another drink, “Time for a Prairie Oyster,” I said. He made it. "Bottoms up." I downed my drink and headed out. As I meandered up the sidewalk, I decided it was time to give the juvenile delinquent a call. “Yo kid."
“Yeah well I'm still gonna keep calling you kid. Listen, I need some information on the bartender.”
“Busy with what?”
“Why are you investigating all the tenants? Wait a second…my alarm clock!”
“Michael you son of a !”
click. He hung up. The power didn’t go out last night, it was him! Next time we sparred I’d be sure to kick him in the face for that. Lost in thought I entered the Wrath. Piercing dark brown eyes and a hesitant smile greeted me.
“I, ah, I’m looking for someone.” The smile vanished.
“Follow me,” she said. The next thing I know, I was sitting in a small room smoking a pipe. She sat across from me, legs crossed, eyes closed, letting sand run out of her hand.
“This is real mystic and all but uh, do you have anything to eat here?” I said. A growling stomach was her reply. “…I see.”
“The blue-eyed thief will appear with the rolling dice. That is what I see.” There was something different about her voice, I couldn’t place it.
“You, swimming bird,” she said.
“Huh?” I said.
“The swimming bird will meet a woman; the bird will be hunted by this women and then….death.”
“Heh, one more time.”
“What’s that?”
“I was killed once before, by a woman.” I got up.
“…you take women too lightly my friend.”
“On the contrary, catch ya laters,” I replied. I put the peace pipe down and headed for the door. At the cash register I stopped. I didn’t know if she was expecting payment so I threw down a 10 and stumbled back out into the world. “I wonder where there's gambling.”
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