Winter On Mars
Faye shivered as she pulled the blanket up around her neck. An icy draft blew in from under the door and prevented her from settling back into sleep. Didn't matter. She'd slept too long anyway. Stepping groggily out of bed, she stretched her arms overhead and strolled to the shower.
Jet would get an earful if there was no hot water.
The warm shower seemed to snap her out of her bleary state and she felt refreshed when dressing. She was curious about today's bounty and roamed around looking for Jet. She looked out the windows of the Bebop's control room and noticed they were docked on Mars. The city was blanketed with snow.
Where was he, dammit?
Checking the kitchen, she discovered a yellow piece of paper held to the refridgerator by an exceptionally tacky magnet:
"Faye,
Meeting Bob for some information on a bounty.
No breakfast since we are out of food, you will have to fend for yourself.
I'll grocery shop before I come home.
Thought you might like to know this:
89th Street Cemetery
Row M
Jet"
Faye stood there, clutching the note in her hands, and committed the last part of it to memory. She discarded it on the way to fish her parka from the hallway closet. There was something else she also remembered to get.
Redtail zooming over the city, she was briefly amused by the sights of the people below. Motorists were slipping and sliding all over the roads, children were having snowball fights with each other, and everyone was bundled up tightly. She had heard somewhere that winters were rare on Mars. Probably from Spike…
"There it is," she muttered, bringing the Redtail down in a vacant lot across the street.
A high stone wall stood around the cemetery. It's entrance a small, arched gate, wrought from black iron with bars that were straight from top to bottom.
Faye pushed the creaky gate open and crunched in the snow to her destination. The wind picked up as she trudged along, taking her breath away and adding to the level of frigidness in the air. It seemed like she had been walking down that winding path for an eternity until she spotted the sign indicating row M.
She had a gut feeling which plot was his and didn't bother to read names as she passed headstones . A single red rose adorned the top of this particular stone, making it stand very much out from the rest. The vivacious red clashing with the monochromatic scheme of winter time. She felt as if she were floating closer to this headstone, like in a dream.
No, this was definitely a nightmare…
She stared at the stone for the longest time when she arrived. Just two lines of writing neatly chiseled into smooth gray stone. "Spike Spiegel 2044-2071". The finality of it was just so jarring to her.
She doubted there was a funeral service, it just wasn't Spike's style….and who brought this rose? Maybe a friend or family member? She figured that it could have been anyone…she knew nothing about this man..
Sighing deeply, she watched the air escape from her mouth as a puffy cloud.
"I would have come sooner, but I didn't really know where you were," she said apologetically.
"I brought you something though," she added quietly with a sad smile, digging around in her coat pocket.
She placed the unopened pack of cigarettes on the bottom ledge of the headstone and removed a stick from her own crumpled pack.
"One last time, lunkhead" she whispered. The lighter's flame flickering around in her cupped hand.
A gentle snow started to fall..