Archive for the ‘Short Stories’ Category
Cane Imitations: Ichiro
I got my Cane paper back and my teacher gave it an A+! Celebrations ensue! This is actually the first A+ I’ve earned on any paper at NYU. I’m very happy. I’ve posted the first part of the paper below the jump. It’s called “Ichiro.”
A Regular Eve
“Say, you still with that girl? Penlope or Patricia or whatever her name was?”
“Parvati. Her name is Parvati Pandre, Harvey. And yes, I am.”
Harvey made a tsk-ing noise.
“What the hell was that for?” Ave asked. She didn’t whip around to face him, but her voice carried an unmistakably angry undercurrent.
“’Tis a shame,” Harvey said. “Pretty girl like you, could have been the mother of many children. A regular Eve.” He snickered at some personal joke. “Eve, Ave, get it?”
Ave turned sharply on one heel and set her beer bottle down next to Harvey’s stove. “I don’t like children,” was her simple answer. “Could you get to the point? I’m not getting paid to sit around and gab with you about my love life.”
Harvey’s appearance lost its doughy complexion, and suddenly seemed sharper. “Of course. You’ll want the terms, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
“And…?”
“Half the pay up front. You know this drill, Harvey.”
Harvey handed Ave a thick wad of purple Echelon bills. She began to flip through the stack meticulously, checking watermarks and numbers. Harvey watched her as she completed this task, listening to the soft swish of paper against paper with a discontent look on his face.
“Does she know what you do for a living, that girl of yours?” He ran his thick ham hock fingers around the edge of his shot glass as he asked the question.
“No,” Ave said flatly. She licked a finger and continued to count bills.
“You ever gonna tell her?”
Ave stopped, contemplating Harvey’s question. She stared at his wall, at the jagged edge of a piece of moldy wallpaper starting to peel off the mahogany siding. “Maybe. Maybe after all this blows over. Maybe when the time is right.”
“Ave, there ain’t no ‘right time’ for people like you and me, don’t you know that?”
“Yes, Harvey. I learned that a long time ago. Doesn’t stop me from doing the job, though.” She bent her head toward the money again and resumed counting: Swish. Swish. Swish.
“You ought t’ get out of the business.”
“Now that was unsolicited advice if I ever heard it,” she replied, putting the stack of money down entirely to peer at him with her clear blue eyes. He couldn’t tell whether her gaze betrayed amusement or annoyance. Perhaps it was both.
“I’m an old man. I’ve seen bad things. I’d hate to see those things happen to you, Ave.”
“I’m one of the best.”
“That’s debatable.”
“You haven’t hired anyone else in four years, have you?”
Harvey pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything.
“Thanks for the cash,” she said, waving the money in his face. “It’ll pay my rent for the next few months.”
“Tell that girl of yours I said hi,” Harvey muttered as she gathered her coat and her bag.
“Sure. I will. Oh, and Harvey?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t bring the blind man in here anymore,” she said, nodding at the corner of the room where the blind man slept. “He gives me the willies.”
[Right. So. Before any of you ask, NO, Ave is NOT a prostitute. So. I hope you liked this. This is only part of the story, and actually, I'm not finished with it, so if you like it, you need to bother me and force me to write more, because otherwise I'll just forget about it and you'll never find out what happens to Ave, or what her job is...]