Antenna Syndrome by Alan Annand

disappeared.”
    “You never tried to locate him through them?”
    “After I fell behind in the rent, I called the
clinic to see if they knew where he was. But they said he’d never
been treated by them. I didn’t know where else to look. He was an
only child and both his parents were killed in the Brooklyn Blast.
All the time he stayed here, he never had a visitor.”
    “He receive any mail here?”
    “Some stuff he bought online, but that’s it.
Disability welfare was direct deposit.” LeVeen opened a drawer and
took out an ashtray with a joint lying in it. “Want some? I need to
unwind after a day on the computer. I’m expecting a young lady in a
few minutes.” LeVeen switched on the stove fan, lit the joint and
exhaled his first puff into the fan intake.
    “He ever mention a girl called Marielle? They were
Facebook friends.” I refused his offer of the joint but it smelled
good.
    “No.”
    “Well, she’s gone missing. That’s why I need to talk
to him. Her family wants her found.”
    “Is there a reward?”
    “Could be something. Not to mention, a good karma
credit for your next life.”
    “Tell that to my landlord.” LeVeen took another
puff. “Look, I don’t know where Eddie went and I don’t know any
Marielle. But if you want to look through the stuff he left behind,
feel free.”
    “What kind of stuff?”
    “Cardboard box full of junk. Books, mostly.”
    “Let’s have a look.”
    LeVeen took me to the spare room and pulled a
cardboard box from the closet. I went through it. A few music books
– Learn to Play Blues Guitar , 101 Chords and
Riffs , and more of the same. Plus half a dozen chess books – The Game of Kings , Think like a Grandmaster , etc –
and a wooden chess set.
    I found a folder of pencil sketches – mostly
long-legged women being humped by giant spiders. Pretty nasty
stuff. I liked long-legged women, but spiders were definitely
boner-shrinkers.
    I also found a menu flyer from Luna Deli ,
with a few items circled. I showed it to LeVeen.
    “Eddie followed a weird diet of oatmeal, yogurt,
nuts, chick peas and sardines. Twice a week, he’d order a sandwich
from that deli. Sardine paste with hummus on whole wheat, or oyster
paste and Spanish onion on pumpernickel. He called them Gonad
Burgers, his late-night snack.”
    “All those foods are high in Omega-3. Certainly a
good diet for sexual performance.”
    “Well, he and Five-Finger Mary must have been having
a great time, because he had absolutely no social life. Luna
Deli let him run a tab which he paid monthly when his
disability payment arrived. I even went to see them, asked if he
was still ordering the same takeout, where it was being delivered,
but they hadn’t heard from him in six months. Ironically, he’d paid
his tab with them, but stiffed me for the rent. If I ever
see him on the street, I’ll throw him under another truck, finish
the job this time.”
    The door chimed a riff from the Beatles’ Paperback Writer .
    “Here comes Venus on the half-shell.” LeVeen pressed
the buzzer and spoke into the intercom, “Come on up, babe.”
    “This deli still in business?” I scanned the flyer
for the address.
    “Check it out. Houston and Essex, I think.”
    “You wouldn’t have a picture of Eddie, would
you?”
    “No, he was like an African bushman, refused to have
his picture taken.”
    “Give me a description.”
    “That’s easy. He looked just like Tom Cruise.”
    “No kidding.”
    “God’s truth. Fourth of July all over again.
Except angrier.”
    I gave him some money and my coordinates. “Let me
know if he turns up. Right away, night or day. There’ll be
something in it for you.”
    As I passed the elevator, a leggy redhead in high
heels and a slinky dress emerged and headed in the direction of
#505. As I entered the stairwell I heard a female squeal
“Ronneeee!”
    I put on my eMask as I descended the stairs. The
only insects I saw were half a bushel of withered silverfish on the
ground floor.