Chapter 2

"Hello?"

"Murdoc," a scratchy voice replied, "something happened."

He recoiled, recognizing the all too familiar caller.

"H-Hannibal, is that you?"

"Of course it is," Hannibal growled, "that's not important though."

"What is it then?" Murdoc asked his sweaty hand gripping the phone.

Hannibal fell silent for a moment.

"It's mum.. s-she's gone."

Murdoc put the phone down and stared at the wall. "I knew it." He was silent for a minute or two before he returned to his brother

"Hannibal?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"What happened?"

There was a pause as Hannibal collected his thoughts. "Well, first of all, the local hospital called a week ago to tell me she had been admitted for pneumonia. I called you, but you didn't answer."

The bassist rubbed his neck, trying to think of an explanation. "Ah, well, I was out at the time and..."

"And what?"

"I was busy!"

An audible sigh echoed through the phone. "Come on, I know you have caller id and probably thought I was just begging for money, right?"

"Oh for Satan's sake, don't bring this up!" he growled as he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. It was times like this when smoking really helped.

"I know you hate me for pestering you, but you're the only family member I have."

Oh god, not the guilt trip. He did this practically every time he called.

"and as crazy as it seems, you've helped me a lot." Hannibal continued.

"How?"

"I spent it on food and things."

"How insightful." The bassist muttered under his breath as he took another puff.

"What did you say?"

"Ah, nothing, so when's the funeral?"

"We probably won't have one."

Murdoc couldn't help but slightly feel better after hearing that statement: Hannibal was the only relative he was on speaking terms with, but he hadn't spoken to him in years.

"Well, if we aren't having a funeral, do you have any plans next week?"

"Dunno, why?"

"My friends are holding a birthday party for me cos I turned 40 last year, you're welcome to come."

" You mean the Gorillaz group? Christ, you know how I felt about that Dirty Harry song; totally noisy shit and the video gave me a damn headache."

Resisting the urge to utter a blazing insult, Murdoc grunted in annoyance. "Listen, I know you aren't interested in the music, but we're a pretty friendly lot."

There was a long pause on Hannibal's end until: "All right, I'll come."

"Great, you can come at 10:00, okay?"

"Fine, bye."

Murdoc then hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen where Russell was at the table, working on a crossword puzzle.

"Hey muds, what's another word for emblem? It's five down and six words."

"It's symbol." He muttered, plopping into the seat at the far left end of the table.

"Ah, thanks." The drummer then noticed his solemn frown. "What's wrong, man?"

"Russ, my mum's dead."

"Holy- w-what happened?"

"She was just old and demented." He replied shrugging sadly.

"Is there a funeral?"

"No, but Hannibal's coming to visit."

"Didn't he come here once to beg for money?"

"Yeah, but" Murdoc stared at the window facing the giant landfill with a sense of doubt now filling his mind. Why was he inviting a man who had tormented him for most of his adolescent life?

"But what?"

"He's family."