How I cooked my Brussel sprouts (a noire dream short story with a taste of crime)

Lately there has been a lot of chit-chat, a lot of talking has been done. About how this is by far the toughest season. Well, seasons change. And something needs to be done.

It is tiresome, to be cramped, trying to keep your guts in tact, hanging. I was running on low for some time now and rumours spread, that I keep popping up in a conversation here and there. It never was about publicity. I just don´t care. Free agent or No-agent. They just hope, if they say my name enough, I can be summoned like some kind of a demon. But answer yourself this question. Would I have been so easy, if there was no method to my act? Could I have been read like a fuckin´ roast menu in a bulletin? Nope sir. Not me. I come from deep rooted origins. Only those who know, really know. And slowly their numbers fade.

At first, I bumped into Charlie Outthere. It was a minute discussion, no questions asked. Told him to keep the others at bay. I need time to gather some necessities. The list is short. I know where to go.

These places, they do not age, really. They withstand all the eras boiling in turmoil. Only to see the second coming. And the third. The fourth. And the fifth one. And the next. Just the faces change, ever so slightly, and the names. But then this thing goes full circle on you and you find yourself in a spot uncomfortably familiar. You recognize everyone. There is no cell in your body, that could be surprised and overwhelmed by the senses. There is no emotion either. And of souls, they usually don´t know around here.

My prominent connections were Leaf Green and Clover Thick. Not that I could trust them, or anything, but nobody else could too, so this made them the most reliable in town. Word is, they have made a decent amount of cream, dealing with the powder industry.

„Aaah, Jimmy!“ that is how that fat bastard Thick used to call me. And even now, after all those years, when he perfectly knows my name by heart, and everything that comes with it, he still calls me that.

„Aaah, Jimmy! Good good. You been good, Jimmy? How´s the water for you? Leaf tells me you back in business. Any new flavours?“
„Just the same, Clover.“
„Of course Jimmy, of course. Now I wouldn´t be incorrect if I dared to say, that you came to us with a proposal, would I?“
„Yeah. You already know. Nice work, Leaf. Now I am here only to get this thing done. I had enough of the bullshit. You see, my patience has its own limits. After my part is over, I am out.“
„Well done then. I am glad, you retained your legendary composition. Leaf got the recipe ready. Just like in the old days.“
„Yeah, Clover. Old days. Wish me luck.“

Bastard. Taking care of everyone, the ones you love, hate, even the ones you despise, that´s the line of business we run. Like there was a time when one could pick a different venue. All I have known is this only. But it was my decision. I am of my own making. It has been put to a test many times and prevailed over anything flowing in the opposite direction. Dog eats dog. It is the only true nature and nothing to be ashamed of.

Leaf escorted me out of that hellish place, gave me the recipe and directions on how to get in touch with the link. Soon, I started to get the old feels, a little tingling now and then. And that meant something. I was at the designated place early, so I could spot any oncoming troubling interceptions. Yet nothing moved. The building itself looked, like its insides I have imagined would have looked. On the brink of the last call. This kid Chip was sharp on point, scarce on word, which I appreciated. It doesn´t do good, to be loose on the tongue. He lead me through the facilities, pointing out all the side entrances – and exits, should anything unexpected occur. With that, his part of the deal was closed. I waited, till he got out of sight. Then I carried on, went through the thin, dimly lit corridor, lined with various pictures of dishes. The rubber floor squeaked under my footsteps. I could hear voices from behind the many doors in the hallway. Finally, I came to the room, where I was to be introduced to the world of this bland tasteless reality. And spill in some kick for a turn.

„So I was told, you have prior experience in our line of work and are indeed a charitable chum.“
„Sure ma´am. I am no mornin´dew. I´ve been there.“

„So you will be taking care of Mr.Mark. He just could use some nourishment of a company.“

Sure thing. Right pops? He doesn´t care himself. A veggie. But his eyes give him away. You could tell. I can tell. Sure pretty much as the sun is always westin´in the eve. And he knows. He recognizes the grip, the stone cold absence of interest. He has seen many a winter moons. Pale, abandoned, breathless – gravitating towards a gap on a tilted blackened axis...

Images:
https://pixabay.com/illustrations/cube-random-luck-eye-numbers-1655118/
https://pixabay.com/photos/turmeric-glass-aromatic-jar-3089309/
https://pixabay.com/vectors/clover-four-leaf-clover-plant-1531035/