suspence, drama, mystery, blogging, writing

Face-melting guitar

‘What? I know that look.’
‘I need guitar. Loud and singing.’
‘Well, I’m no DJ and neither do I have my guitar on me, but maybe we can call a radio station to satisfy your hunger for echoing chords.’
‘I need coffee too.’
‘Coffee and guitar, isn’t that a little demanding?’
‘No, I just know what I want. And that’s coffee and a guitar solo, preferably by my favourite guitar player…’
‘…Santana.’ Then he grabs my arm and pulls me to the right into a doorway of a cozy cafe. ‘Coffee for the lady.’
‘You’re my hero,’ I say and I walk into an electrifying, face-melting guitar solo by Carlos Santana surrounded by mouth-watering fumes of fresh roasted coffee. My arms go straight over my head. Respect.

Black wine

I put down my excessively large cup and look about the room. My cup says ‘seize the day’, I don’t see why a cup should say anything, your drink will still taste the same no matter what is says, or does it?

‘I had it. I’m telling you, I had it,’ Levine nods while he speaks to underline his words.
‘I don’t think you had anything, you thought you had it and then what you didn’t have slipped.’ I say.
‘How is that even possible? And besides, I had it, I had it, I had it.’
‘Repeating it doesn’t make it more true. I have not received convincing evidence yet.’
‘Are you being a judge, because that doesn’t impress me. If I had it, then I had it.’
‘That simple? Now consider this, what if you thought what you had wasn’t really what you thought you had in the first place.’
‘How can that be? Either you got it, or you don’t.’

A firefighter’s truck rushes by with loud sirens and blinking lights. We all turn our heads in an instance drawn by the sudden action and most likely the excitement of the unknown. I pick up my seize-the-day-cup and dryly sip in the-return-of-the-rest.
‘You and your irony,’ says Levine to me. I shrug and smile. ‘Life is a joke.’
He takes a sip from his fuming coffee and remains silent for a moment.

‘So now you say you had it, but I say if you had it you would have it right now. Right here. Right in this moment.’
‘Now that is a little tricky.’ He puts down his mug and watches a kid throw a Lego piece at his sister.
‘I’d say he had it,’ I say.
‘I’d say he lost it.’ I laugh.
‘I’d say you lost it.’
‘I’d say I will give it to you, right here, right now.’
‘I’d say bring it on.’ I put down my mug with a sway.

Levine stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles. He’s like a magician at work. His hands make a bow towards the pocket of his jeans, he waves his fingers and reaches in. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think that was pretty sexy.’
‘Thank you, I’m glad you know me better.’ Then he takes out his phone. He glances a look at me. But is interrupted by the auburn-haired waitress asking us if everything is okay. ‘Excuse me,’ I say, ‘does he have your number?’

Levine drops his arm in his lap and looks at me straight. ‘Told you, you don’t have it.’ The waitress smiles. ‘Two wine, please,’ Levine says and then turns to me again, ‘you scumbag, you miserable little shit, you cocky little player.’ He folds his arms and blushes while he speaks.

‘You are probably one of the sexiest man in the country right now. And you have to lie about having it. I think you should apologise to all other less sexy men who will never, can never and shall never have it. Because like you said, either you have it or you don’t. Now go get her number.’

‘I told you I have it.’ The waitress comes back with two totally black wineglasses. And then walks away. We pick up the glasses and examine them closely. ‘Did you order red or white wine?’

‘I ordered wine.’
‘Just wine? With the red-headed cute waitress whose number you don’t have.’
‘Don’t worry, I got this one too.’ He puts the black cold glass at his warm lips and it leaves a ring of steam on the outside. ‘White,’ he says, ‘I’m going for white.’
I take my chance at the black wine pool and come out completely different. ‘Red, for sure.’

‘Miss, Levine calls the waitress, ‘would you please bring us an empty glass.’
The waitress comes back with a transparent and empty glass and a napkin to clean the table.

‘Okay, what’s at stake here?’
‘Red, you are asking her number. White, I will get you in the pool for free.’
‘So I win both ways. Suits me.’ And he pours some wine into the glass on the table. Red, I smile a smug smile. Then he picks up the napkin from the table and says: ‘here.’
‘Her number! You’re that good.’
‘I told you I got it.’
‘Either you got it or you don’t. Here’s to black wine.’


Men and their meats

‘Hey, my name is Zach, have you just arrived?’
I look like a schoolgirl that just had her first kiss. Eyes wide open. ‘I’m Tess,’ i say with a hesitation in my voice as if i’m not sure my name is really Tess. I pull my sleeves over my hands and answer his question, we’ve been here for three days now.
‘Oh, are you here with your girlfriends on a road trip?’ Pointing at our Defender with a tent installed on top. He’s good at being casual, I say to myself while he strokes his hair with one hand.
‘Me and my friends are surfing. We’re here for the swell at four in the morning.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I saw you this morning. You’re a pretty mean surfer,’ he folds his arms and nods, he must mean what he says. I shrug.
‘You surf?’
‘Me and some friends,’ he points at some tents in the distance, with some guys barbecuing in front, fumes reaching high, ‘we always come out here every year. The waves break perfectly on the banks and it’s still a bit of a secret spot,’ I nod, ‘hey, if you want come and join us tonight for some food and drinks and a good talk.’ He smiles and looks at me in my eyes, I can’t say no now.

‘You have scored,’ says Levine when I return, arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.
‘I have scored you some barbecue buddy’s,’ I defend myself.
‘Wow, good meat for all of us than.’
‘That guy is too pretty for me.’
‘That guy us totally into you!’
‘That guy couldn’t be more out of my league.’
‘That guy couldn’t be more of the smitten kitten.’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘You couldn’t be more deceived.’
‘Well, corpses of dead animals will reveal all tonight.’
‘You just very effectively ruined barbecue night for me.’
‘You just found out,’ Macy jumps in.
‘They were the best minutes of the day.’
‘What’s up,’ Max sits down on the grass barefoot.
‘Tess just scored us a free barbecue.’
‘Awesome. Show me the meat.’
Macy and I shake our heads. Men and their meats.

We bring the salads and the veggies. ‘See, they don’t look surprised,’ I say to our men who didn’t agree on our plant-plan.
‘We have veggies. Check this out.’ The 7ach points his bright green eyes at me and starts stringing peppers, pieces of tomato and zucchini on a stick. I take my place beside him; this feels good.

‘No, baby,’ says Max, ‘just give me the heat and the meat and I am a happy man.’

‘Well, then I am about to make you the happiest man alive,’ a spike haired guy whom they apparently refer to as Elvis grabs a giant piece of steak from the table and starts rubbing it with yummy smelling spices.
‘Shut up,’ says Macy, ‘these spices tickle your taste buts.’

‘We can use them,’ I say. Zach hands me some, I take a whiff and I feel like I’m spice high. So we take some more and spread ‘m around like holiday spirit. Team Elvis now accepts the challenge and picks up slaps of meat and holds them on high, they count, one, two, three; spices fly through the air in all colours, ochre yellow, dark brown, earth red, cinnamon brown, sunset orange, soil black, delicious cream. Now, we grab our veggies and start swaying them in the rainbow of smells, picking up all the flavours and colours on the way, until our tomatoes become edible paintings.

Elvis stretches his arms and cracks his neck, ‘Okay, we got one more card to play men, this one is for all the real man,’ and all the men at the other end of the table start banging on their chest like gorillas. The herbs on their arms are jumping off in a fright. Then they slap the meat on the table making it come off the ground and pressing all the colours and smells into the meat so it can never leave. We nod. We’re impressed. But not stupid.

We pick up the knives, all of them. Like ninja’s we strike and chop up everything that’s comes in our way, meat, veggies, herbs, anything; until it looks like a Brazilian Carnival that’s about to hit the heat. Max puts an arm on Elvis’s shoulder, ‘this actually looks delicious.’ ‘These guys practice the art of deception. They make us eat veggies.’ The people who have been witnessing our show from a distance are clapping.

Zach puts an arm around my neck and kisses my head. ‘Good teamwork,’ he says. And we stretch our teamwork to our neighbours by handing out our spicy ratatouille to our audience and they love it. People bring in more food and we mash-up anything they give. Zach and I came up with a seven-step-system: sprinkle, spread, rub, slab, turn, chop and burn. ‘You two are working this,’ a red-haired lady shouts.

We slice and smoke until there is nothing left and we crash into our seats with a humpf. Levine is checking me. I raise my eyebrows. ‘I seem to have been outstripped by cutie green eyes right next to you,’ he whispers. ‘No, baby, I’ll never stop loving you.’
‘I would believe you if I didn’t know you this well.’
‘What? I mean it.’
‘Yes, you and your irony.’ He clunks our wineglasses together. ‘So tell me Zach, you seem like a regular here, how many times have you been here before?’
‘Seven,’ I say out loud.
‘Seriously?’ Zach starts counting his fingers. ‘For real?’
‘That was awesome,’ cries Elvis swinging his tattoos in the motion.

‘You always come here with these butchers?’
‘No, I come here with my wife and children too,’ he says without a blush. I start chortle and clunk my glass to Levine’s this time.
‘Them dirty ghosts. Well at least I’m still…’
‘…no, you will always be my number one.’
‘Here’s to good food and good times and perfect waves.’

Banana nice cream

I have been sitting behind a window of a cafe for the last two hours staring at a giant ice cream. It makes me wanna eat ice cream. Preferably banana ice cream. I text Levine and Macy:
I’m about to get me some nice cream, anybody want to share in this moment of glory?
M: I could do with some cold saucy yumminess.
L: Got mermaid nice cream? #gimme
T: I got all you need, baby. Just wait and taste.
L: #droolingalready
M: Gimme rainbow nice cream.

I bring home a bucket full of all the colours of nice cream I could find. ‘In my defence I got tempted by a giant icecream the size of Dwayne Johnson aka The Rock.’
‘That is the worst kind of temptation,’ says Levine all blue mouthed but then he stops in the motion.
‘I’m with him,’ Macy jumps in before she suddenly sits erect.
‘Whatup?’ I ladle some nice cream where it belongs, in my mouth, and then I do it again, and again, and again until I’ve tasted the nice cream rainbow. I point my spoon up in the air, give it a swing and then continue eating.

‘Hello?’ says Levine.

‘So what they all taste like banana? I ordered the rainbow and got all colours of banana. I’m happy.’

A pool girl’s playground 

Six adults are wading the waters of the paddling pool. One of them, who I like to refer to as Curly Carl, is banging on a bucket so loud it sounds like thunder in a vase. Until his blond-haired friend comes in and rips the bucket from underneath his banging device and puts it on his head, now they both laugh louder than the thunder.

I’m at my first day at work. At my schoolgirls job. As a pool girl. Wrinkly old people trying to stay afloat, red-eyed children emerging from the water and all I have to do is make sure nobody stays at the bottom. I’m spooked, ‘hi, I’m Wanda,’ a bushy perm haired blue bathrobe hung person suddenly stands next to me. Her eyebrows are shaped in a V between her small eyes. I blink. And she’s gone. And suddenly I get an itch down my back.

Focus. Nobody on the bottom? No. Old people still floating? Yes. Children still jumping? Yes. Six adults still in the paddling pool? 1,2,3,4,5… Oh, no, where’s Curly Carl? I can’t find him, my favo drummo. But then I suddenly see a pair of blue shorts sticking to the giant clown. Curly Carl is hugging him as if he’s a teddy bear. To me he rather looks like The It from Stephen King with his huge red smile that spouts water every ten minutes. But Curly Carl seems blissfully happy, so I give him a thumbs up. And now his smile is almost as big as the clowns.

‘You look like my sister.’ Bushy Wanda is back.
‘Don’t listen to her, she’s in a happy mood because she got a wet drawer last night.’ And she brought a friend, Smacking Simone, who’s fake teeth are so loose you can almost hear the clap with every word. They are dressed like twins in their blue bathrobes.
‘We have to go.’ clap clap.
‘Bye,’ scratch scratch. And my itch is moving up my spine, all the way up my neck.

There’s a guy with an enormous hunchback that aims for the bucket with the beat, me and my itch are watching him closely. He has no beat with the bucket, so he scans the shallow waters for the original bucket and the beat banger, Culry Carl. Now there’s a beat and a bounce and a spout and they got a real pool party going on, Curly Carl, the hunchback, their blond friend and the freaky clown.

And at the side of the pool I see Bushy Wanda standing. Legs spread, hands in her sides, neck forward, V on her forehead; it looks like she’s trying to hypnotize The It. But then she turns her V to me, ‘lunchtime,’ she shouts. I blink. I totter. I steeple. She a colleague? So. Many. Itches!

I can read your mind

The Easter Bunny is once again terrorising the country. Swarms of day-trackers are invading the left-over shops who decided to still welcome the rodent lovers. Unfortunately, Levine chose to be one of them; dragging us in the process.

A kid with Sponge Bob on his t-shirt is staring at me as if he’s about to attack. And all I can think is likewise, because I’m a real elbow-handler in big crowds.

But my friends are dawdling and chatting and laughing, so I sit down on a chair and pick up a Rubik’s Cube. ‘How about this one,’ I say concentrating on my attempt to brilliance but pointing at a ghastly looking shiny black plastic coffee table. ‘I would gladly spill coffee on it, if that’s what you mean,’ answers Levine putting his feet on it. I put the Rubiks down, it hasn’t improved a bit.

Down one of the aisles we pass this set of three tables, a square one, a triangle and a round  copy, and I’m sure of it. I know which one he wants. They are made of wood from olive trees and their colour is amazing. Like the finest tan in the world. Like summer, beach and delicious food all in one table.

We squeeze our way through the egg seeking easter day people, passing tables filled with stuff nobody needs and everybody touches. I’m the same because I pick up a giant chick: ‘this has got to be the biggest chick in the world.’ Levine puts his thumbs together and points this index fingers in the air to measure the world’s largest baby chick. ‘That is one huge chick,’ is his conclusion.

‘What if this chick grows up to be a hen?’ Says Macy and we all look at each other. ‘That’s got to be filled with so many hormones it’s most likely to explode.’

‘Do you think it will rain eggs if it does?’ I wonder. A lady with a flat perm and Crocs on her feet overheard and bursts out in laughter. I startle and drop the giant chick, it falls in between the candles and the oil.

‘Can we go?’ I whine like a baby.
‘No, not until I find my perfect coffee table.’
‘But I already found your perfect table for you.’
‘Impossible.’ Levine turns to walk away.
‘It’s made of the finest olive wood.’
He stops.
‘It has the most beautiful colour you’ve ever seen.’
He turns his head.
‘It will make you wanna marry a tropical lady.’
‘Show me.’

‘You have a choice out of three of the finest tables you’ve ever seen, with the most gorgeous tan nature can provide. Dear Sir, I present to you a square, a round, and a triangle version of your perfect coffee table.’

Levine crouches down on his knees and slides a hand over the silent wood. He nods.

‘And I know which one you will pick,’ I cross my arms. ‘I could sit on it with my scrawny butt and you will still choose my table.’
He gets up and folds his arms too.
‘I already know,’ I sing like an annoying kid.
‘Have a seat.’

I sit down on the square table, crossing my legs and smiling my smile.
‘You’re unbelievable. How did you know?’
I shrug. And I can’t help but take the giant chick home.

drama, thriller, comdedy, mystery, blog

Bang! Bang! You shot me down

We’re in the middle of the bed, me and Macy. Armed with a pair of rolled-up socks each. At every sound we shriek and jump like a ping pong ball from his bat only to get hit again at the other side, bang!

A repetitive pattern of knocking on my bedroom walls, constantly going round and round as if it’s encircling us. And all we got is socks.

‘Where is it? Where did it go?’ shouts Macy from the middle of the bed in her jammies.
‘It’s everywhere,’ I scream holding my socks with two hands.
Bang! We turn.
‘There! There! Right there!By the window. I’m sure of it,’ Macy leans forward.
Bang! We jump.
‘No,’ I cry, ‘it’s right behind me. Here. On the wall. On the blanc spot!’
‘What blanc spot? Your whole wall is white and blanc!’
‘There, there,’ my trembling hand is pointing at a spot on the great big white wall. We stare at it.

Bang! We fall.
‘They…are…everywhere!’ We both yell.
‘They’re descending on us’
‘They’re coming down like aliens.’
‘Like lightning, they’re striking.’
‘They are forces of nature.’

Bang! We scream. And leap up.
Bang! We turn.
Bang! We jump.
Bang! We turn.
Bang! We jump.
Bang! We scream and jump and turn. And are right back where we started. Standing in the middle of the muffled bed with our home-made sock guns.

‘Okay,’ I say, pointing my socks throughout the room.
‘Okay what?’ Macy had her t-shirt half drawn over her head.
‘Okay, this is it. I am stopping this. Right now!’
‘What? How? Where?’
‘I am calling Levine.’

‘That’s all you’ve got?’
‘Well, you have a better idea apart from the sock episode?’ I step of the bed.
‘No, don’t leave me here alone.’
Bang! I stay steady.
I reach out to my phone.
Bang! ‘Don’t do it,’ shouts Macy.
Bang! I slide back.

It was right in front of me. But fifteen minutes later our knight in shining blond hair enters the room. ‘What are you two doing? You look like two school girls who have just seen a scary movie.’

It’s silent now. We don’t here another bang. We stare each other in the face.

‘Don’t be too sure. They might be back,’ urges Macy.
‘Who might…’
Ssshhh!’ The schoolgirls say simultaneously.
Silence. Nothing.
‘The Bangers,’ I break the silence.
‘The Knockers,’ adds Macy.
‘The sounds coming from my walls.’

Levine nears the bed. ‘Watch it,’ we yell. We are both pointing at the floor. His feet are being divided by an Almighty Stripe.
‘So, I’m just trying to get this here. First there’s a stripe, a blotch, a smear and now there’s also a bang, a sound, a knock?’ He raises his eyebrows.
‘You weren’t there,’ I put my hands in my sides.

‘I’m sleeping here tonight,’ Levine boldly steps into the bed.
‘No!’ We yell.
‘Yes, I am not going back home in the middle of the night, in the cold and you two called for protection, so here I am. Right here in the middle of the bed’ And he pulls the covers up.

Bang! And we drop.
‘Our knight in shiny armor,’ says Macy.
‘You broke my bed,’ I say.
‘In my defense, you had socks.’