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Friday, November 11, 2005

the end of Chapter One

After she placed their food orders, Rebecca decided to call Isaac.

"Wait! What? Has something happened?" Johnny looked around the restaurant frantically as Rebecca started dialing numbers on her cell.

Warily, she stopped dialing but didn’t close her phone. "I’m just making a call."

"To who?!"

"A…friend." Rebecca started dialing again.

"Is someone else coming?" Johnny’s nervousness was contagious.

"No…" Rebecca answered slowly, "I…I’m not…"

"Wait! Are you leaving?!"

"I’m just not feeling well…I think it’s some kind of stomach thing and I’d better…"

"Shit." Johnny, trembling slightly, started pulling at his napkin. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, it’s not you," Rebecca said soothingly as she slowly stood up, eyeing the door. Johnny was looking at the briefcase at the foot of his chair; Rebecca used his moment of distraction to hit send on her phone. The noise brought Johnny’s gaze back up.

"You can’t just leave, who are you calling?" Johnny was talking fast. He started to get up.

Rebecca stepped back and put one had out. "I said it’s just a friend. He’s the one who set this up."

Johnny sat back down and his face paled. "You’re calling him?"

"Yes…" Rebecca reached for her jacket. Why mentioning Isaac would threaten him, she didn’t know, but she thought she’d might as well go with it and get the hell out of there. "I’m having him pick me up."

"No!" Johnny stood up vehemently.

Rebecca froze, her jacket halfway on. Some people in the restaurant had stopped to watch what looked like a juicy break-up.

"You can’t leave yet!" he demanded. Rebecca’s momentary shock had worn off and she hurried to finish putting on her jacket.

Johnny’s desperation was no longer just dramatic. A middle-aged woman elbowed her husband into standing up and walking towards Rebecca’s table to see if she’d need any help.

Johnny, panicking and oblivious, reached under the table for the briefcase. "You were supposed to take this!" But Rebecca was already out the door. Johnny almost jumped when someone’s hand touched his shoulder.

"She’s gone son. Just let her go."

Johnny turned to see some man, and the entire restaurant staring at him with mixed looks of curiosity and fear. He looked to the man who had a firm but kind hold on his arm.

"But what am I supposed to do with this?" He held up the briefcase.

The kind look in the man’s face melted into pity. "Well. I…"

Johnny sat down and sighed.

The man stood there awkwardly for a moment. "I guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself." He started to walk away, then turned around. "Good luck."

Johnny nodded numbly. Just then, his meal came. Spicy Romano Chicken with bowtie pasta.

11:53 AM - 4 views - add eprops - add comments - email it

Thursday, November 10, 2005

	Some possible character names: (from Random Name Generator) Johnny Bowie Rebecca Burkhardt Seth Burkhardt Lacey Holt Isaac Klem Gabriel Livesay Angela Rand David Redmond Bridgett Woolfe
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Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Another Chapter...a few chapters later.

Johnny had the briefcase in the armchair across from the couch where he sat, cradling his head in his hands, massaging his temples. This whole night had been like the date from hell. Except he'd started out with a gorgeous woman with golden hair and golden eyes and ended up going home with a slim black gold-trimmed suitcase. He looked at it in desperation.

"What am I supposed to do?"

The briefcase didn't respond.

Johnny shifted in his seat, glancing behind him, making sure no one was reading his movements, suspecting that he was trying to figure out something to do.

The briefcase sat politely on his armchair, unassuming yet imposing. He could just bash it open. See what was inside. A hammer might be too severe, but it did cause a shadow of a smile to creep on his face. He leaned toward it, chin on his hands, eyes slightly narrowed with a hint of menace at the cheap black leather and gold-colored plating. Johnny shot it silent threats. I could destroy you.

The briefcase didn't respond.

He shook his head in desperation, slid down in the couch, and returned to cradling his head in his hands massaging his temples.

He must have dozed off because he woke with a start and had forgotten where he was for a moment. He shot up to his feet and looked to the armchair. The briefcase was still there, calming watching him sleep. What had woken him up?

He turned behind him and slowly lowered the blinds. He had gotten home in the late evening when the streets were still relatively full. Now they were deserted. He looked at his watch as he shut the last blind. It was 1:30 in the morning. Johnny stretched and yawned as he turned around to set up a bed on the couch. He still didn't feel right about either leaving the briefcase alone or taking it further into his home.

"Who are you?"

The gun was inches from his forehead. Johnny couldn't find his voice. He felt like he was moving in slow motion. Once he realized it was Rebecca holding the gun, he felt like he spent hours pouring every detail of her appearance. Her necklace was gone. Her white oxford shirt was untucked; blood splotched and smeared all over the right side. There were small traces of blood on her forehead in her hair, her eye make-up was smeared. He wanted to reach over and wipe the blood and smudges off her face, her hold on the gun was shaky and she was clearly unstable.

She kicked him in the shins with the heel of her boot. Hard. Johnny folded over on to the end table, sending the lamp to the floor. As he rolled over on top of it, it shattered under his back, shards of glass imbedding into his skin. Johnny closed his eyes and groaned in pain.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Rebecca kicked him in the side again.

"I told you! Johnny Bowie!"

"Right like the knives." Rebecca responded in way that was both sarcastic and threatening. He tried to get up, clutching his side. She dug her boot into his side, keeping him on the ground. "Why did you arrange the meeting at the restaurant?"

"What?!"

"Did you not hear me?"

"No! I..." Johnny glanced at the briefcase. Rebecca followed the glance, lessening the pressure for a moment. Johnny pulled away put didn't stand up. "Could you not stand on me? I can barely talk as it is."

Rebecca furrowed her eyebrows; her look softened slightly. She aimed her gun at him again, slightly more calm than when she first entered. "Don't get up."

"Fine." Johnny ventured touching his side. He looked at the blood on Rebecca's face again. "Thanks."

The softness of her face disappeared. "Answer the question." She stepped closer to him. "The restaurant?"

"I...I didn't arrange it. It was Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" Rebecca seemed incredulous.

"Gabriel. He told me where to go, the time, what you'd look like, everything."

Rebecca paused only for a moment. "Gabriel who?"

"He didn't give me his last name."

Rebecca sighed. "When did 'Gabriel' talk to you?"

Johnny paused. Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "You don't want to talk about Gabriel? Fine. What's in the briefcase?"

Panicked, Johnny started to inched forward. "Wait!" Rebecca's boot stopped him. "He contacted me a week ago!"

"Let's see what's in it." Rebecca walked slowly backwards towards the armchair, keeping the gun pointed towards Johnny.

"No! Rebecca wait!" Johnny used the couch to lift himself up to his knees. Rebecca didn't stop him. "I swear I don't know what's in it. Gabriel said that I was not under any circumstances to open it."

Rebecca acted like she didn't hear him. She picked up the briefcase.

Desperate, Johnny shouted, "I was supposed to give it to you! That's why he sent me to the restaurant! He said you'd be wearing a flower necklace with petals alternating yellow and pink."

Rebecca stopped. Briefcase still in one hand, gun loosely in the other, she slowly lowered herself on to the chair. She looked listly at the floor. Johnny watched her face. It never occurred to him to take the gun.

"Isaac?" She barely whispered.

"Who?" She looked up, eyes watery, barely registering the stranger cringing on the floor across from her.

She looked at the briefcase and the gun and cleared her throat. She looked Johnny in the eyes and started to say something but paused again, like at the restaurant. She had to look away before she could say anything. "Johnny."

"...yes?" Johnny tentatively raised himself up to sit on the couch.

...I'm kind of tired, to be continued.

11:37 PM - 12 views - add eprops - 2 comments - email it

Monday, November 07, 2005

Chapter 1
[Edited for fear of writing more]

"It’s Boo-ie. Like the knives."

Rebecca smiled. Amused before she’d even arrived, this random comment seemed almost too perfect. Pleasantly surprised, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Luckily, he didn’t give her much of a chance. "I know it’s spelled B-O-W-I-E like David Bowie the singer, but it’s pronounced BOOie." He reached out his hand. "Johnny Bowie."

Still smiling, Rebecca took his hand and in a Sean Connery accent replied, "Burkhardt. Rebecca Burkhardt."

Johnny curtly shook her hand then sat down abruptly. He seemed somewhat put out.

"So." Johnny BOOie cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Your necklace."

Rebecca, stunned, briefly looked down at the cheap Italian charm necklace Isaac insisted she wear to dinner. It was a pink and yellow flower. Something like a twelve-year-old might wear. Of all the things to compliment. Rebecca raised her eyebrows, and leaned in closer. "Yes?"

It was almost as if Johnny was insulted. "The petals! They alternate!" He was leaning halfway across the table now, using his index finger while he talked. "Pink and yellow!" He was still whispering, but it was loud enough to draw an inquisitive glance from the next table. Johnny paled and quickly slid back into his seat.

Still slightly amused at the absurdity of the whole event, Rebecca hid behind her menu. She began to slide it down to slowly reveal the top of her head, then her dramatically arched eyebrows, finally, her eyes as she peeked over at Johnny BOOie as if she were Nancy Drew.

"Are you alright?" Johnny slowly unfolded his napkin, keeping one suspicious eye on her and the other on something behind her.

The rest is still the same. Gosh I'm lazy! GET TO WORK!

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***

Rebecca Burkhardt

rebecca