Tuesday, December 07, 2010

trouble is my business, trouble is my name, trouble is my nature, trouble is my game and that's the fact's as she spilled the contents off her mind over my desk, it just poured out like the information superhighway, date, details, event's, lovers, relationships, business deals, secrets, all revealed in some action expressionist explosion of data.
i looked at the picture, it was mostly reds and various shades of danger red, over a black back ground, first impressions was trouble. the kind that starts with a capital T so i offered her a chair then i did what i had to do, which is pull out the tarot cards from my desk drawer and ponder the reading.
mmm, okay the reading was pretty damming, she was running from something or some one, possibly a man who is her husband, a man who is violent and unhinged, unpredictable and has a dark past. yeah we can see he's a sagittarius, but we know without the cards he's just another psychopath.
so she's on the run, hiding out, we can see the chase, she's been running for so long she can't stay still, she is filled with fear and residual violence hangs heavy in her soul. she has no one close to her, she's on her own, scared and desperate. she's got a little cash, inheritance from her fathers estate, but it's not much. she has no plans, she's desperate, there's the future but it's ambiguous, you see death, you see the hanged man, and you see sorrow but you can also see yourself there, the magickian, he's next to the hanged man, and death.
yeah trouble with a big T.
you fold the cards away in a cloth, you casually mention the cloth belonged to your great grandmother who was also a witch. she just stares at you as if you are mad. then she throws her cards on the table, 'protect me.'
yeah that's what it comes down to, it always does at the end of the road, protect me. if only you had a dollar for every woman that asked for that, man you would be sailing around the greek islands. you with your big frame and warrior heart, you with your strange eyes and intimidating mouth, men fear you but women see deeper. they see the poet and if they are skilled in perception they read the poem and they feel heartbroken by it but they know you are safe. yeah sanctuary, that's me.
so you grab the cash from your safe, you pick up your browning and throw some supplies into a bag, you leave your overcoat and take a crystal ball instead, you also take a pair of binoculars which you stick into the bag. you grab your passport and ask for hers.
shuffling her out the door you lead her down the back steps, where no one can see you, you move out in stealth towards the garage where the ute is parked. you keep the browning close at hand and shove her in the passenger seat, putting the bag on her lap, you jump in, all cock sure and ready for anything. she's looking anxious, you can smell her fear and far more subtle you also scent your own fear.
you move through the streets slowly, the car is discrete, it won't attract attention, it melts into the shadows and slides along anonymously.
she sits besides you, she's reapplying her lipstick and powdering her face, she's looking good and smelling better. you can taste the tension in the car, you can feel it like a terrible heat eating away at you, it's been a long time since you been with a woman, you may be reading the signs wrong here but you can almost taste the pheromones leaking from her soft white skin, she's like an erotic ghost.
you light up a smoke, you shake the lust away, breathing deeply you pull yourself together and you focus.
'thank you,' she says softly.
'it's okay, no problem, we just need to get to highway 7 and we can leave the city, head south and i'll get you over the border.'
'he will find me down there.'
'no babe, he won't, we are going deep cover.'
she has no questions, she's a smart cookie, she knows she has no choice but to trust me, she closes her eyes and breaths out slowly.
'get some sleep sister. i'll wake you in a few hours.'
i stick some travelling music into the cd, it's a band called the deep fix, an ambient soft classical piece of strange sonic soundscapes, yeah it's all unfamiliar territory and we need an appropriate soundtrack.
four hours and four coffees later i need to take a piss so i pull over. i wake her up and give her the gun,. big mistake i'm thinking as i'm pissing in the sidelines.
the car comes out of the night, lights switched off, i hear it's throb but by the time i turn around its to late. it slams into the ute and i watch the steam and smoke smother both cars. i hear the deep fix still playing, a soft piano and a lost saxophone over the words...

'all your secrets are secure
and i'll keep you safe.
fears kept at bay
and i'll always stay....'

i'm running to the door, pulling it open and dragging her out, she's out cold which makes it harder, those sexy red heels are scratched up badly, her dress is torn.
i can feel one side of my face burning, eyes fill with water, i can't tell how bad it is through the pain. i have her wrapped around me, i'm putting her across my shoulder and running away, hoping some other transport will stop soon but it's night and there's nothing on the roads. i reach a safe perimeter and then i hear laughing.
somehow i still have the browning, i put her down and make my stand.
he's howling now, like a wounded coyote, this is it i think, it's kill or be killed.
she's at my feet, her red dress all dirtied and covered in blood. she's bleeding from her arm and from her face. i strip a bit of my shirt and soak it up, then with the rest we make a compress over the gash on her arm.
i stand up and look for him, but there's only his laughter.
meanwhile she's moving, trying to sit up. i wish i had another piece i'd give it to her, he'd never suspect that, he's not smart enough, all brawn.
that's when everything goes to hell. he's come from behind, has me on the floor. i can't see his face but i can smell his sweat, the raw testosterone making me choke more than his arm around my neck, i find the crystal ball, fingers clutching it's smooth surface and in one swift and graceful move i arc my arm into his skull, there's a sound, a deep bass like thropb, there's no time for anything else but to check the girl, she's in shock.
she's nodding to me, starts whimpering as i wrap my overcoat around her.
we look at the wreckage, a car pulls up, we jump in and leave it all behind.
i'm gazing through the binoculars as the scene fades, i can see him lifting himself up, i can see his face, the agonizing look of fury and that madness in his eyes.
'is he dead' she asks?
'yeah, he died a long time back.'
'he's gonna find us and kill us.'
'no. he won't. i promise he won't kill us.'
'did you read that in your crystal ball?'
she had me there.

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