conversation out of my mind but didn’t manage. Spent the remainder of the morning browsing the net for clues. I looked for anything to do with Norton, Joseph, or any other people that might have gone missing recently.
Found nothing interesting.
Talked it over with Hicks, but we didn’t come to any satisfactory conclusions.
Blog entry: Near closing a guy came in looking for a mirror. He seemed particularly interested in one of my cracked oak mirrors. He asked me what it cost and I asked him how much he thought it cost. When he told me his number I laughed in his face and doubled it. He bought the mirror.
Might have to up the stakes next time. At least I seem to be getting the hang of this antiques business. More than about any intrinsic physical value, this trade appears to be about how smug you can look.
Should investigate this further.
Blog entry: Closed up and headed home. Had some snacks and donned a new disguise (newspaper boy with arm in sling). Made my way to Dr. Hargrove’s place. This time I didn’t hide out in the bushes across the street, at least, not right away. I spent a few hours circling the block. I watched Dr. Hargrove come home. I watched it grow dark. Then, when I was sure a stationary position would be safe, I slipped into hiding.
Things didn’t become interesting until well after midnight, much like the previous night. I’d considered not turning up so early but, with my luck, the night I turned up late would be the very night a crazy stalker came early and scared the crap out of Dr. Hargrove (“ Where were you, Gomez? He was right there, staring at me from my own garden! Luckily the police caught him, thanks for nothing! ”)
I wasn’t going to risk it. I put in the hours and felt good about it.
Blog entry: At about twenty past twelve a dark shape crept into Dr. Hargrove’s garden. I couldn’t make out any details, but its general size and way of moving seemed to confirm it was the guy from the previous night. I sat tight, waited for the right time to act.
I needed to be sure this really was a stalker, and not some random person hiding out in Dr. Hargrove’s bushes for a totally innocent reason. When too much time had passed for him to be tying his shoes or checking the ground for undiscovered kinds of soil – and too much time had passed for him to be accidentally stalking the wrong person – I knew I had my man.
Didn’t want to risk losing him again, so I wouldn’t try to follow him home. I’d just end it right here, right now. Quick and painless. Make this guy my Tuesday afternoon monkey-poop scooper!
23.
Blog entry: Shows how much I know. I stood up and yelled, “Hey, man! I can see you over there!”
For some reason I’d gotten it into my head that this would startle the stalker, make him turn and bow his head in shame. He’d say something like, “Oh man, you got me!” And that would be it.
I have no idea why I thought this. We weren’t playing hide and seek here. I hadn’t outwitted the guy. There wasn’t going to be a mad dash for the finish line at which point he’d concede his loss and leave it at that.
This was the real world, the realm of grownups. The land of violence. The dark shape did turn, but in a slow and menacing manner. And no part of it bowed in shame. Still not clearly visible, an outline of an arm detached itself and moved to take something from a pocket. An angry spark flared up from an object that moved toward the figure’s face. As the light intensified, I made out some features. They were strangely mangled.
I suddenly realized the mistake I’d made. I had no idea what kind of subculture I was meddling with. Now I was caught up in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation.
The spark lit a cigarette and the stalker took a long, deliberating drag. Then he started toward me.
“Better get out of here,” I heard myself say. It was an unexpected sound, as if part of me hadn’t been notified I was actually
Found nothing interesting.
Talked it over with Hicks, but we didn’t come to any satisfactory conclusions.
Blog entry: Near closing a guy came in looking for a mirror. He seemed particularly interested in one of my cracked oak mirrors. He asked me what it cost and I asked him how much he thought it cost. When he told me his number I laughed in his face and doubled it. He bought the mirror.
Might have to up the stakes next time. At least I seem to be getting the hang of this antiques business. More than about any intrinsic physical value, this trade appears to be about how smug you can look.
Should investigate this further.
Blog entry: Closed up and headed home. Had some snacks and donned a new disguise (newspaper boy with arm in sling). Made my way to Dr. Hargrove’s place. This time I didn’t hide out in the bushes across the street, at least, not right away. I spent a few hours circling the block. I watched Dr. Hargrove come home. I watched it grow dark. Then, when I was sure a stationary position would be safe, I slipped into hiding.
Things didn’t become interesting until well after midnight, much like the previous night. I’d considered not turning up so early but, with my luck, the night I turned up late would be the very night a crazy stalker came early and scared the crap out of Dr. Hargrove (“ Where were you, Gomez? He was right there, staring at me from my own garden! Luckily the police caught him, thanks for nothing! ”)
I wasn’t going to risk it. I put in the hours and felt good about it.
Blog entry: At about twenty past twelve a dark shape crept into Dr. Hargrove’s garden. I couldn’t make out any details, but its general size and way of moving seemed to confirm it was the guy from the previous night. I sat tight, waited for the right time to act.
I needed to be sure this really was a stalker, and not some random person hiding out in Dr. Hargrove’s bushes for a totally innocent reason. When too much time had passed for him to be tying his shoes or checking the ground for undiscovered kinds of soil – and too much time had passed for him to be accidentally stalking the wrong person – I knew I had my man.
Didn’t want to risk losing him again, so I wouldn’t try to follow him home. I’d just end it right here, right now. Quick and painless. Make this guy my Tuesday afternoon monkey-poop scooper!
23.
Blog entry: Shows how much I know. I stood up and yelled, “Hey, man! I can see you over there!”
For some reason I’d gotten it into my head that this would startle the stalker, make him turn and bow his head in shame. He’d say something like, “Oh man, you got me!” And that would be it.
I have no idea why I thought this. We weren’t playing hide and seek here. I hadn’t outwitted the guy. There wasn’t going to be a mad dash for the finish line at which point he’d concede his loss and leave it at that.
This was the real world, the realm of grownups. The land of violence. The dark shape did turn, but in a slow and menacing manner. And no part of it bowed in shame. Still not clearly visible, an outline of an arm detached itself and moved to take something from a pocket. An angry spark flared up from an object that moved toward the figure’s face. As the light intensified, I made out some features. They were strangely mangled.
I suddenly realized the mistake I’d made. I had no idea what kind of subculture I was meddling with. Now I was caught up in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation.
The spark lit a cigarette and the stalker took a long, deliberating drag. Then he started toward me.
“Better get out of here,” I heard myself say. It was an unexpected sound, as if part of me hadn’t been notified I was actually
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