Chapter Five: Sorry, The Princess Is Is Another Castle.

Martin parked his boxy car on Idaho and walked up to Freya Drive. The green trenchcoat was too big for him. Martin rolled the sleeves up several times but he still felt like he looked like half a starved WWI doughboy, half Artful Dodger. The coat wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be, it seemed ooze and flow and float around him in its own atmosphere. There were patches on the jacket as well but they were the same dark green and didn't seem to contain any emblems, just extra bits of fabric.

Once he put it on he noticed that it was covered with twenty or so pockets, some clever and hidden, others stitched on in a haphazard Pied Piper fashion. All but two of the pockets were empty. Held in an inner pocket close to his chest was the package, safe and secure. In the left hip pocket was another gift from the Lolas. Martin took it out and looked at it again.

It was a little plastic Tic Tac box. The wrapper has been mostly scrapped off and there was a little piece of white tape with the letters D'VER written on it in a precise hand. Martin held the box up to his eye. Inside was a lone Tic Tac. It was orange. Martin shook the box so the Tic Tac made little tic tac noises. Martin had no idea what it was suppose to do except freshen his breath. Secret agent suicide pill? Ninja smoke capsule? MDMA in case a rave broke out?

Lola Getz had been less than helpful about what the little orange candy was for when she tossed it to him back at her shop.

"Dire need. Only."

"Dire like what? Like garlic bread?"

Lola Getz bombarded Martin with the minutiae of how he should behave while in their temporary employment as she hustled him out of the break room and back through the labyrinthine shelves of Wants & Getz. Over his shoulder he saw Lola Wants toss him an odd salute, not looking up from her crayons and paper. At the door, she stopped and quizzed him.

"The package is to be delivered to who?"

"Cassandra Fiver, owner of The Shining Wire. Easy to remember it almost rhymes. Her and no one else. No flunkies or...major mumbos?"

"Majordomos. And the call and respone should MacGuffin be at The Shining Wire?"

"Umm. I say to her, 'Wanna disco' and she says 'More crackers please'. Doesn't that seem a little cloak and dagger?"

"It is a lot cloak and dagger. MacGuffin must know that you come from us. She may be scared. You remember the pass phrase to get into The Shining Wire tonight?

"Yes, it's --"

"Don't say it here! Don't say it until you say it to the doorman. Don't even think it, these things grow stale. And the Tic-a-Tac?"

"Dire need. Only."

"Yes. Dire. Like you feel like you need...a moment."

Lola Getz nodded and turned Martin around and gently pushed him out of Wants & Getz. She didn't cross the threshold of the doorway. For a moment she was framed in the buttery light spilling out into the night. It made her look elongated and fuzzy.

"Luck as it falls, Mister Hollys."

With that she shut the door and Martin heard several locks click into place. It was already dark. How long was I in there, he thought. He stared at the nondescript building with its old sign for an accountant's office. It looked small, shrunken. He walked over to the light of a streetlamp and looked at the marks on his palms.

He rubbed them but they wouldn't smudge. They didn't looked drawn. They looked carved. Embedded. Blue flower. Black bullet. Like actual tattoos, he thought. Martin Hollys shrugged into the green trenchcoat and walked out of the light of the lamp. The Shining Wire was an afterhours club and it was after hours now. He made his way to his car.

- - - - - - -

Freya Drive was a little cobblestone lined with fancy boutiques and elite business offices and restaurants. Panopticon Graphics. Antebellum Books. Vexed And Glorious Salon. Akimbo Cafe. It was late and most of the places were closed. There was a group of people hanging out in front of the cafe talking loudly. A poetry slam or a rap battle or a discussion of politics, Martin couldn't tell.

Martin didn't see the sign for The Shining Wire anywhere. In his mind's eye, he could see it clear as day. Purple neon rabbit, on its side, red neon 'wire' around its neck. None of the buildings on the street had a sign like it. He decided to ask the people in front of the cafe.

They were a motley group, dressed as though they were about to put on a Beckett play. Godot-chic. All of them were painted smeared. Martin could see the same symbol sprayed on shirts and scratched into flesh: A tree with one leaf. Martin could see backpacks with Krylon spray paint cans. They were teenagers, most of them boys, draped across the cafe's chairs like laundry. They were watching two of their numbers, slightly older kids, in the middle of an animated discussion. One had on a Russian cap complete with hammer and sickle, the other had a pointy face and huge gage earrings. These two look like they've OD'd on too many opinions about art, Martin thought.

"Excuse me, do any of you know where The Shining Wire is?"

The two standing turned to look at Martin. Russian Cap looked pissed, as though Martin had interrupted him in the middle of a tangent and cost him a point in his argument with Pointy Face. Pointy Face spoke first.

"Piss off, old man. Lucifer Beard says away with you!"

Martin could feel a shift in the mood of the various laundry in front of him, they would be perfectly happy to see the leaders go from yelling at each other to turning that energy on a stranger. Pointy Face turned and got in Martin's face.

"Oi! Your hearing okay, you wanna test your berlins against Lucifer Beard?"

Martin had been subjected to a lot of strange accents today but none as annoying as this Lucifer Beard's fake Dickensian British patter. I hate it when people talk in the third person, Martin thought. Then, Lucifer Beard, moved to push Martin. Martin stepped aside and reached out with his right hand and caught the boy's wrist and twisted it. Lucifer Beard squirmed in Martin's grasp, making little wounded noises. The Laundry Gang just sat there, tense and ready.

"I asked a simple question. I just want to know --"


Russian Cap started to rush forward but Martin pointed at him other his other hand.

"Stop."

Russian Cap looked at the pistol Martin had made out of his hand. Martin looked at it himself, he only meant to point but had ended up making the thumb trigger as well. There was an sharp intake of breath from the Laundry Gang and a few of them scrabbled for cover behind cafe chairs. Russian Cap looked scared and stupid and defiant and eighteen. He had no accent when he spoke.

"Old man, you don't got the nerve to make a move against the 'Gon Daddies."

Martin thought about the weirdness of this whole day. He licked his busted lip and squinted his puffy black eye. He thought about the quick beating he took today from Butch Pierce, he thought about the obtuse eccentricities of Wants & Getz, he thought about the bizarre fact that he found himself in the middle of a fight with a group of teenagers. And he thought about this mission he was on, to delivery a package, and hopefully help a woman he barely knew. Martin Hollys smiled.

"Boy, I've got more nerve than I've got sense. Now tell me where The Shining Wire is."

Martin felt a warmth roll up from his groin to his stomach and chest. It bloomed there and cascaded down his arm to his hand that held Lucifer Beard's wrist. The boy jerk, once, twice, and tumbled backwards out of Martin's grasp. He did an off kilter back handspring and landed on his chest. Russian Cap ran over to him, Martin forgotten.

"Lou, you okay?"

"Fine, Lionel. You guys go ahead over to The Empress, I'm just gonna show this guy where the 'Wire is."

The only person who looked more shocked than Martin was Lionel. The Laundry Gang gathered themselves up and followed Lionel with his Russian cap and hammer and sickle. Lou Beard took Martin the opposite way down the street. As they walked, Martin rubbed his hand. It itched. That felt like a really strong static electricity pop, he thought. He looked at the blue flower on his palm. There were only five petals. Martin looked at his other hand. Black bullet. Roman numeral. VI. He tried to keep up with Lou Beard.

"So, it's Lou not Lucifer?"

"Yeah, my brother Lionel started calling me that."

"Hmmm. Lionel and Lou Beard. You ever seen anybody else wearing a coat like this? A woman?"

"What? A factotum coat? Sure. Guys, girls, yeah."

"What do you mean factotum coat?"

"Huh? You know, you're wearing it, right? Badge of office, innit?"

"That answer doesn't help and your fake British accent is coming back."

"Sorry. Well, here we are."

Lou Beard had led Martin to a skinny alleyway between a restaurant called Jabberwocky's and an ominous building with a razor blade thin sign that said AGENCY.

"In the alley."

"Yeah."

Martin looked at Lou Beard and rubbed his itchy hand.

"Why did you decide to help me?"

The kid looked confused like Martin had asked him to prove a math theorem. He pulled at one of his huge earrings like the answer would fall out of his ear. He shrugged.

"I don't know. it suddenly seemed like something I wanted to do."

"Okay. Thanks. Tell your brother I'm sorry about...about pointing at him."

"Okay. Hey, man, you better have the right password if you're going in there, those people don't play."

"Thanks, I got it."

With that, Lou Beard turned from the alley to join his friends in whatever the night held for them. And Martin turned to the alley. There was no neon sign. I'd make a piss poor bootlegger, can't even find the speakeasys around here, he thought. He entered the alley.

The ground was wet and covered with litter, fast food wrappers, plastic bags, and things Martin hoped weren't used condoms. The walls were close, they sweated. Everything seemed like it was made of bricks and mold and metal and fungus. The jagged sliver of sky he could see above him only made him feel like he was at the bottom of a trench. Deep beneath the ocean. No stars, just black space. Both pressure and vacuum at the same time. The alleyway felt like it twisted and curved and spiraled. Small rat noises scattered away from him as he moved forward. Martin walked up stairs, crossed miniture moats, ducked under arches. The alley shrank to a pin hole and then suddenly it opened to a courtyard.

Brick wall. Metal door. Bright neon sign high above Martin's head. Purple rabbit, red wire. The hum of neon. I should have been able to see that from the street, Martin thought.

A man in a suit stepped into his line of sight. Asian, dark glasses, ageless.

"You know the words?"

The man was reaching into his coat.

Martin held his hands up and said the pass phrase.

"Sorry, the princess is in another castle."

The Asian man smiled and reached for the door.

"Welcome to The Shining Wire, Mister Hollys."

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Up next, Chapter Six: I'm No Rick And You're No Ilsa...and who knows, dear readers maybe one of these days we well see more of Lucifer Beard and The Laundry Gang (although that's not what they call themselves....The Estra-Gone Daddies). Perhaps Martin Hollys will received more reluctant help from them. Who knows?