The Pseudo-Chronicles of Mark Huntley

The Handshake - 10/26/04

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

It's been a couple of days since I last wrote. Let me get right down to the important stuff: Rafael is back in the picture; I know a lot more now because of that; I have a new roommate; and I have a new job. 

Things are looking up, you say? Things are crazy-ass crazy, I say. But I'll be preoccupied with too much other stuff for the foreseeable future to think about raiding the liquor store. That is a point in the positive column.

Backtracking a bit, then. We basically spent the rest of the weekend trying to track down silvers in imaginative, moronic ways. I'm not going to embarrass myself or Rence by going into the particulars. Let's just say that running after strangers in public places does not endear you to the populace at large. Specifically those members of the populace who wear uniforms and carry badges. A waste of much time, and we didn't come away with anything for it. 

In fact, we're probably lucky we're not behind bars... I'm sure the purples seeded in the police department could have given us the extra kick into the big house. 

Also falling under the humiliation category this weekend was when I called my parents and begged for money. I told them that I had gotten laid off due to downsizing at the Divide— not such a far-fetched story in this here 21st-century American economy. And that I'd need some cashola not too long from now, while I dutifully hunt for another job. Mom was full of sympathy; Dad was a little hesitant about opening his wallet. But then again, that's Dad for ya, don't get where y'are by peepin' out for the little guy, do ya? 

So there's some money on the way. Maybe I can borrow a bit from Rence later on, if that becomes necessary. I still have no idea how all of this is going to play out. Will Mark vanquish the evil purples, prevent the Apocalypse, and find a nice non-married, non-aura girl to settle down with? I'm hoping for a happy end, but that seems like a long shot. 

Then last night, Monday night, I heard a knock on my apartment door. I opened it and was surprised to see Naomi Darren standing there, a packed-full gym bag hanging over her shoulder. 

"Congratulations," she said dryly. "You just got a new roommate. What a step forward in our relationship." 

"Uh... come in?" I said. 

Naomi brushed past me and plopped her bag on my "dining room" chair (when your apartment is all just one big room anyway, the quotes are important). 

Rence got up from my computer, where he'd been underwriting or something, and looked at her with curiosity. "Pretty forward, eh?" he said, glancing at the gym bag. "I hope this doesn't mean that I'm sexiled, unless you want me sleeping in the bathroom." 

She told him to shut up, the first of many times she would do so (in good humor, of course!). Then she sat in the chair next to the one her bag occupied, and looked up at me. "Well? Can you get a lady something to drink?" 

"How about you tell me what the hell is going on, first," I said, crossing my arms. Damn, but it felt good to be the cold one in this "relationship" for a change. 

She half-smiled. "Yes, sir. Earlier today, I was coming back from work to Sam's place when I sensed... saw that there was this weird girl following me. Teenager. She kind of stood out from the crowd, because she was wearing this big fedora— you don't really see women in fedoras very often, do you? Maybe other hats? I didn't know whether she was one of these purple people you've talked about, but there was something off about her, and she wasn't letting me out of her sight.”

“Hispanic girl?” I broke in. “Unremarkable face?”

“Yeah…” said Naomi. “How did you know?”