Okay. So I'm going to try to post my installments a minimum of once per week. Feel free to look over the grammar and spelling if you'd like, but what I am really interested in is comments about descriptions and plots and dialogue. Tell me if my characters suck, for example, of if I'm using metaphors that are confusing and/or inaccurate. Thanks, everyone.
Chris
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I moved toward my chair as she paused in the doorway, and by the time I was taking a seat, she’d begun to move into my office more properly. Well, I should say that she was entering my office proper, because the way she was moving certainly wasn’t doing much for my sense of propriety. She had a face that makes your mouth go a little dry to look at it, and your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth when she looks at you. And believe me, I was doing plenty of looking. This vision had hair the colour of spun gold, cut short to her jawline, peeking out from beneath the low brim of her white hat. Two big blue eyes threatened to drown me as she looked at me, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her ruby lips. That sort of smile someone gets when they’re not especially happy with the majority of things going on in their life, but they think they’ve found something that can help. It’s almost grim on most faces, but on her... I think I might have missed the first three words of her opening line.
“...Benjamin? A detective?” She was saying. Her voice could melt butter, and was about as smooth. She could call a man the worst names in the book and have him thank her at the end for it. She stepped up to the other side of my desk and waited there, left hand moving to her coat pocket.
“That’s me,” I managed to reply after loosing my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Strange how that thing needs to be moving in order to speak, and how much work it was, in my case. I rose from my seat and offered with one hand to my guest chair. That’s why it’s there, after all. “How can I help you, miss....?”
“Wolfe. I’m Agnes Wolfe,” came her silky reply as she took the offered chair. Gracefully, too. I wondered if she dances, but that was more academic than not; I dance like a water buffalo. Sure, the buffalo can move, but it’s not really a pleasant sight and he usually winds up doing damage; that’s a fair assessment of my skills as well. “I need to hire you, Mr. Benjamin. I want you to find someone.”
“Agnes,” I said with a small smile, “you don’t deserve that name. You don’t look like any Agnes I’ve ever met.” She just smiled shyly at me and then I continued with her question, saying, “Simple enough,” as I took my seat, “who is it that you’d like found? Husband, boyfriend?” I opened up the narrow middle drawer of my desk and pulled out my notebook. Might as well look the part of Private Eye.
Her blue eyes looked down from me for a moment - from embarrassment or something else, I couldn’t tell - and then she looked back up and in a serious tone, replied quietly, “No, Mr. Benjamin. I want you to find the man who’s trying to kill me.”
“Well now, that’s not so simple as finding someone you already know. What makes you think someone is trying to kill you, Miss Wolfe? I mean, that’s a pretty serious claim to level at someone, even if you don’t know who it is.”
“I.... just feel it. Like I’m being followed. But when I look around, there isn’t anyone following me. No one’s made any attempts on my life or anything. I just.... I just know that someone’s trying to kill me.” Her voice trembled a little and he blue eyes looked down. She could have told me that if I were to punch old Pops in the teeth she’d smile again, and I would have done it. Nothing is more trouble than an angelic-looking dame; I can’t resist them even an ounce. “I didn’t think you would believe me, either. No one does. They all think I’m crazy. My friends and family, the police, the three other detectives I spoke to before coming here. They all just nod and smile and tell me that if I get more sleep and see a doctor, I’ll feel better.”
“Hey wait,” I began, “no one’s saying you’re crazy. Hell, I’ve seen all manner of strange things happen in this line of work, had clients who were actually crazy. One guy swore he was being attacked at night by an organ grinder’s monkey.” I smiled my most comforting smile. Smiling at her was as easy as breathing. “I was just looking for more details, is all. So... you’ve felt like you were being followed. Is there any particular time this happens? Any specific place or day? How long have you felt this way?”
She exhaled a little and then said softly, “I’m sorry. I... get defensive about this. I know I’m not crazy!” She raised her voice a little with her last assertion, but took a moment and collected herself. I can’t blame her, I wanted to collect the whole set of her. “I guess I started to notice feeling like I was being followed about three weeks ago. It’s only been really strong the past week or so. Which is why I’m worried that maybe whoever is following me is going to hurt me. I don’t sleep, can’t eat, and... well, I’m beginning to think if this doesn’t stop soon, I will go crazy. Please, Mr. Benjamin, you have to help me.” She began to cry, then. If there’s one thing I can’t be around, it’s a beautiful woman who’s crying.
I got up from my chair and moved around the desk to lean against its edge near her left hand. I offered her my handkerchief and touched her shoulder as I said, “Now there... no need to cry. I’ll keep an eye on you as you go around, and I’ll see if I can pick anyone out of the crowd who might be following you, yeah? How does that sound as a place to begin? Really, there’s nothing to cry about. And call me Ben. My friends all do. ”
She looked up at me, eyes still wet with unshed tears and gave me the tiniest smile that I thought I’d missed it, and thought my heart would stop at the same time. “Ben,” she said quietly, and I never thought I’d hear so sweet a sound, “sure. I feel so silly crying about this. I’m not some little girl who needs protection. I just didn’t know what else to do. Thank you for helping me.” She cleared her throat - and even managed to make that sound angelic - and then asked, “About your fees?”
I nodded just once and said to her, “Well, we don’t need to discuss it now if you don’t want to. I usually charge $10 a day for something like this, and usually stipulate that if I can’t figure it out within five days, then there probably isn’t anything to find. And you can pay me at the end, too.”
“Just five days? What if I want to hire you for longer? To be sure, I mean.”
“Miss Wolfe,” I said with a hopeful smile, “you can hire me for as long as you’d like.” I wanted her to hire me forever. I’d follow anyone for $10 a day. No reason to tell her that, though.
“Agnes, please,” she corrected with a warmer smile. “When do we begin?”
“We can start in the morning if you’d like, Agnes. Unless you’re worried that someone will try something tonight? It’s not even,” my watch is broken - another casualty of my lack of work - and there are no clocks in my office for some reason, “well, it’s not so late. But I’d be happy to take you home, if you’d like.”
“You’re sweet,” she said as she stood slowly. I could smell her perfume - jasmine - and it nearly knocked me over, “but just knowing that we’ll get this solved tomorrow; well, I feel like a new woman already. I’ll meet you at this address tomorrow, around 10.” She reached past me, electricity crackling silently over my skin as she gets close, and wrote down an address for me on a piece of paper, leaving it there for me to look at later. Which was fine by me because I was too busy looking at her right now to be bothered by any silly paper. About the only paper I was thinking about was the money I was going to earn by being around this woman... and that made me the luckiest son of a gun this side of Lake Michigan.
“Sure,” I said quietly, the words almost a low rumble, “I’ll see you there at 10.”
Gently she touched my cheek with her gloved hand. My breath caught and I wasn’t quite sure whether it would ever come back to me. With a look that threatened to melt me into a puddle like the ones I tracked up the stairs, she purred, “See you tomorrow, Ben,” and then headed back towards the door. I hated seeing her go, but I certainly did enjoy watching her leave.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
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