An Ardent Moonbeam
Moonbeam Choo was a lunatic. But he was so rich and wealthy, nobody dared call him that, not even behind his back. They used the term 'eccentric', instead.
As a youth, he was rebellious and nothing like his father or his grandfather, who had amassed huge fortunes through hard work and a cunning talent to exploit the corruptible souls of powerful men; first in Malaysia, and later on, in America. Moonbeam was forced by his family to go to business school, but wanted nothing to do with business, money, or responsibilities. Nonetheless, shortly before his graduation, he suddenly became the sole owner of all the family assets, after the private plane carrying his parents and grandparents crashed, killing everyone on board.
Charlie Choo - as he was known back then until he changed his first name to Moonbeam - lived in New York and Washington, and very early on in life, developed a taste for sex, drugs, and rock'n roll, not necessarily in that order, but often simultaneously. From the age of sixteen and for the next thirty years, he probably had no more than a couple dozen sober days. His wild lifestyle amplified his irreverent and unconventional personality and did not contribute to sharpen his business skills.
During that period, several of his assets were stolen from him through the betrayals of his CEOs, lawyers, accountants, and other professionals who took advantage of his negligence. He did not care. By age 46, he remained a multi-millionaire still over-indulging in his whims and still having much too much fun for a stoned, drunk, and rapidly aging man. And that's when life caught up with Moonbeam Choo.
He woke up, one morning, in a fancy hospital room, unable to move the left side of his body. He had no memory of the most recent weeks, which he had spent in hospital after suffering from a major stroke, and during which he had gone through the unavoidable detox that the body goes through when one stops abusing it all at once. Luckily, he was unconscious for the first twenty days of his purging, and still too debilitated afterward to remember what his brain and body went through. He should have died, his doctors told him, but he didn't.
Instead, he struggled madly to regain some of the life that used to inhabit his body. He was incapable of movement in his left side and going through several months of rehabilitation, sober, proved to be mostly in vain. Oddly enough, his vivacity remained unaffected by his condition and his personality basically did not change after all his tribulations. His doctors diagnosed him with 'Emotional Incontinence' because of his frequent outbursts of laughter - but they had not known him before the stroke.
So he retained his ardent and impulsive character despite his inability to match it with physical action. The man could barely move or walk around despite the best exoskeleton and 'bionic' equipment money could buy, so he was forced to slow down, literally and figuratively. His brush with death taught Moonbeam a lesson in moderation and moral rigor. With this newly gained perspective, he completely changed his lifestyle, gave up all his bad habits, and found a new peace - relatively speaking.
Over the next ten years of his life, Moonbeam Choo gradually returned to his earlier favorite activities, mainly one he used to enjoy before becoming a social butterfly: reading books. Books on history, science-fiction, Malaysian culture, and... criminology. He loved books, but also liked to collect them; for their artistic value, their age, or their distinctiveness. Suffering more and more from isolation, however, he began to seriously consider opening and running a bookstore, so he could meet people interested in the same things he was.
This is how, one day, while approaching Quantico with his chauffeur - riding in his Mercedes along the east coast and enjoying the scenery - Moonbeam was struck by the vibrant energy in the area. As they continued and drove through a quaint neighborhood, he instructed the driver to leave the main drive and explore the vicinity. He soon noticed some 'For Sale' signs on three commercial properties, all located on the same city block. As impulsive as ever, he decided to purchase the lots and buildings, already planning to open his own store and to buy more properties.
Over the next few years, the bad boy of Washington had become an investor in real estate and the proud owner of a "rare, old, and out-of-print editions" business. He found himself settling nearby, in a luxurious property in that pictorial area of Virginia, and continued to invest in the land. He quietly acquired more and more commercial and residential properties, so that he could control and choose his neighbors and the businesses next to his own.
The building he chose to house his bookstore was extensively renovated and secured to contain a retail store in the front part and his private collection - creating a museum of sort - in the back section. The Collective sold books on Malaysia and the Far East, science-fiction and fantasy books, and crime novels or criminology texts. These eclectic subjects also included history books, his favorite topic.
True to himself, Moonbeam gradually replaced the retail stores nearby with an incense and essential oil business, a Peruvian fabrics and llama wool clothing store, a kites, flags, and maps shop, and other unusual small companies that one was not likely to find at every corner of the city. Even the couple of restaurants and the health centre/spa were unconventional. One exception might have been the coffee shop next door, the Many Worlds Café. Yet, exotic coffee beans and various preparations from all over the planet were sold at this café, making it different from the mundane pit stops most people were used to.
Moonbeam Choo was then 58 and, for the first time in his life, felt like he had found himself, and his real home. His handpicked - and odd - choices for residents combined with his unorthodox landscaping of ferns, monkey tail trees, palm trees, cacti... created a unique neighborhood. It attracted other free spirits and many 'wannabees' who, although would never have altered their conventional life, were happy to escape it and spend their time and money in this area for a while.
One Ms Penelope Garcia, technical analyst for the BAU, knew nothing of this miniature Shangri-La located just off her daily commute to the FBI Headquarters in Quantico, but on a sunny Saturday morning in June, luck led her to meet one of her dearest soul mates.
"SH...T! Double sh...t!"
Penelope Garcia was beginning to think that bad luck would follow her all day. She'd already been awaken by a call from Hotch at an ungodly hour on her first morning off in almost two weeks! She'd been told to show up to work ASAP because of a kidnapping. After finding out the hard way that her hot water tank was defective, she'd rushed to dress and set her hair and make-up, only to find that her fridge and cupboards were empty and she had nothing to grab for breakfast.
The line-up at her favorite coffee shop had delayed her about ten minutes, but she had been able to grab a bun and hot tall mocha. She had quickly escaped the crowded place only to trip on the uneven sidewalk and drop coffee and bun at her feet. They'd rolled off the curb and landed on a dirty sewer cover drain, causing her to swear out loud at her double loss.
She considered for a moment going back inside the shop, but the line-up was now twice as long as when she'd first arrived. Grumbling and muttering angry words to herself, she threw her purse on the front seat of her convertible, slammed the car door shut behind her, and sped off with a dark cloud of mad frustration following her.
Within minutes, her anger had lifted and hunger had returned to replace it. She was debating back and forth whether she should stop again, or give up and skip breakfast. Reasoning that she'd be much less dangerous to the rest of the team if she was fed - and soon! - she suddenly took a right, and another, thinking she'd go back her path and find some food at a nearby grocery shop.
Something caught her eye on the left, a splash of color or a large balloon, she wasn't sure, but she felt like heading in that new direction. That's when she first discovered Malacca Drive.
She thought she was dreaming or imagining things, but the shoppers and passersby looked very 'normal' to her. The decor, however, made her feel like she'd been transported to Indonesia or some tropical country. A couple of scantily clad street musicians singing under a palm tree and some food carts selling skewered meat and rice dishes were reminiscent of an exotic island, not the State of Virginia. The mirage was only as long as one street block, but she immediately fell under its charm.
She squealed with delight when she saw the sign: Many Worlds Café! Within minutes, she had a new tall coffee and some sort of mango pastry and she exited the place very slowly, carefully heading to her car. She was going to be late, but she would not rush this time, not here, not now.
As she stopped to bite into her pastry, the front window next door to the coffee shop grabbed her attention and she froze in surprise. A first edition of David Rossi's first book was on display, and other books on criminology were laid out next to it, along with a few European science fiction novels she'd never seen before. Rossi had just joined the team and she was curious to know more about him. She got closer and was distracted by a textbook on Malaysian culture and history dominating a circle of smaller publications on the Far East.
"Oh! Thank you, thank you!" she suddenly heard a man's voice next to her.
"Excuse me?" she asked, utterly puzzled.
The older Asian man was beaming at her and approaching her slowly, his left arm and leg trapped in black metallic braces that seemed robotized. As he hobbled toward her, he was gesturing with his good hand for her to come to him. He had a wide smile as he pointed to a security camera aimed at them.
"I tried to wear some colorful clothing today, but you are so much better at it than I am! You are a bird of paradise!" He looked at his dark red silk shirt and silver tie, and then at Penelope's lime green dress, yellow sweater, giant pink pearls, dark purple earrings and platform shoes, and the splashes of pink, yellow and green in her hair where she had set three bright feathers. Her glasses were adorned with mother-of-pearl nacre and blue rims.
"We just installed new color security cameras yesterday and I wanted to try them, but you can help me with that, can't you?" he was getting next to her and turning slowly toward the camera.
"But, but, I am late! I must be going!" protested the confused woman.
"It won't take long, just turn around, here," and he gently posed for the camera, standing next to her with a big smile. "Thank you! You must come back so I can show you the picture!" and he slowly hobbled toward his store, leaving Penelope feeling relieved, but intrigued.
"I shall... return..." she muttered before taking a sip of her drink and continuing on her way.
Over the next four years, Penelope and Moon, as she nicknamed him, developed a close friendship. They were from different worlds, cultures, and generations, but they shared values and had other affinities that made them 'kindred spirits'. Anybody witnessing their enthusiasm for every topic of conversation they picked and changed within minutes could only listen and watch in awe.
Penelope's boyfriend, Kevin Lynch, was one of those who had tried to join in the joyful exchanges. He soon had resigned himself to just observing yet another facet of his love's personality. Moon tended to bring out the innocent, childlike, and silly side of the bright woman. They would both giggle, explode in laughter, or tease each other mercilessly, like a couple of youths out on a Friday night.
Penelope already had very close friends, mainly her 'family' at the BAU, with whom she could have laughter, private exchanges, and secrets. She could flirt with Derek, tease Spencer, take JJ as her confident, feel the admiration of a daughter for David Rossi, the affection of a sister for Emily, and share mutual respect and caring with Hotch. She felt protective of all, and they of her. She also passionately felt protective of Kevin. And more recently, Moon had joined her pack, under her umbrella.
Paradoxically, she and Kevin never talked about Moonbeam nor Malacca Drive with the BAU team. Whereas she was thrilled that Kevin with his Hawaiian shirts fitted right in, she felt that her law enforcing friends might worry about her friendship with the ex-jet setter, so she preferred not to mention her visits to his store.
She also secretly delighted in the fact that they had no idea who was her connection in the world of rare and out-of-print books she had offered them over the past few years. At birthdays and Christmas, she had the best gift ideas for each of the agents. They all assumed she was performing some of her cyberspace magic to find these precious gems. Reid was especially impressed with the kind of books she found for him. Heavy manuscripts he had never seen, let alone read!
She felt very proud of her latest choice for Spencer: a rare textbook on the history of crime-solving in Southern Asia, with the original pictures; a real work of art. His birthday was coming up and she had asked the whole team to chip in - the book was a bit pricey. Moon had promised that it would arrive in time, and when it did arrive a few days before the big celebration, she only had to figure out when she'd be able to stop by The Collective.
The team was away in Colorado and she was stuck at work during the day and coming home late at night all week. The bookstore was already closed by the time she made it there, so she decided to arrange with Moon a special pick-up time a bit later than his usual closing time.
On that Friday night, when Moon usually stayed open until 9:30 pm, she asked him to wait for her a bit longer. He was happy to oblige her. She was able to make it there a little after 10 pm.
Penelope was looking forward to the weekend: she had just learned that the team had finished the case and was planning to return the next morning. They would all meet on Sunday at JJ's place and surprise the birthday boy. She would bring the book, all wrapped up. Everything was going to work out fine.
She parked in front of the familiar store and noticed some light coming from the back room. Moon was in his private museum. She was about to knock at the door, but noticed that he had left if slightly ajar for her. She stepped in, announcing herself with the ding of the door bell and a cheerful call: "Moon?"
There was no response.
Penelope wondered if he was too busy or preoccupied to answer and entered gingerly before locking the door behind her. She expected him to be chatting on the phone, or surfing the web, but her reasoning could not calm the unease she felt growing inside as she walked toward the light of the back room.
"Moon? It's me, Penelope!" she called again.
She approached the door frame and peeked inside. She saw her friend standing in front of one of the book displays. His back was turned to her. Relieved, she walked in.
"Moon! You left the door open for me, so I came in. I hope-" she did not finish.
A man jumped from behind the door and grabbed her by the shoulders with a strong arm. He turned her back to rest against him. With his other hand, he pressed a knife against her neck.
"Do not move. Not a sound. Or you're dead. And your friend after you."
