The Case of the Manila Envelope--Chapter 1
by HA
"'Current Urban Legends'?" Bo Sawchuk said as he read the title on the paperback just handed to him.
"Yeah," Blake Hewitt answered after swallowing a piece of chicken. "I bought it Saturday with Shirley."
Bo raised an eyebrow right before shoveling a mouthful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. "You did, huh?" He looked over the book cover, which contained a shadow with glowing red eyes standing in an alley. Turning the paperback over, he read the summary to himself. "This sounds like something Bart would like," he stated after finishing.
"I believe we saw him at the bookstore buying it as we were brining our copies to the register," Shirley Holmes recalled, putting the tip of her fork to her chin. "He was rather enthusiastic when he was holding it in his hands."
"So, how come you didn't talk to him?" Bo asked.
"Susan was with him," Blake answered.
"Ah," Bo said, returning to his lunch, although he did glance occasionally at Shirley and Blake. Unconsciously, he felt the grip around his spoon starting to tighten.
"Speaking of Strangers..." Shirley looked up and saw Rika Tamura heading towards the table. The young Japanese girl had her backpack slung over her shoulder as she carried her lunch.
"Isn't that heavy?" Bo asked as Rika settled in and placed her backpack in front of her.
"I'm used to it," Rika remarked, patting her bag, "and quite frankly, this is safer with me."
"Duly noted," Shirley said.
"I suggest we keep it down," Rika said, narrowing her eyes as she looked past Shirley.
Turning around, Shirley spotted Molly Hardy at a nearby table. The pretty blonde was surrounded by a group of girls trying their best to pass along gossip to her. From the bored look on Molly's face and by the way she held up her head with her hand, Shirley thought that their efforts were in vain.
"Now," Rika began in a low voice as she kept her head down, "if you're wondering, Bart's still alive."
"What have you guys got him going up against now?" Bo whispered back.
"I believe an alien," Rika said as she picked through the macaroni, "and I'm not talking E.T."
"A real alien?" Blake asked.
Rika shook her head. "Not a Scooby this time. Definitely real, and definitely a threat."
"So now you guys are the Men in Black?" Bo said right before shoving a spoonful of macaroni into his mouth.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Rika said. "With all these aliens coming to Earth, someone's got to keep them under control."
Shirley nearly laughed out loud as Bo spat out chewed up macaroni and cheese onto his tray. "You mean to tell me," he said, his voice slightly rising despite the untold agreement not to let Molly find out about Strangers' Club business, "that aliens come here on a regular basis?"
"Of course," Rika said matter-of-factly. "We're a fascinating species, in their opinion."
"Bart's gotta be excited about that," Blake said.
"He was rather enthusiastic about that part," Rika commented. "That's why he wanted to go on this assignment."
Shirley looked at Rika with interest. "So, how do these aliens act compared to us?"
"Behavior-wise, they're just like us," Rika said. "To be honest, we should be more concerned about humans than aliens." She noticed the paperback lying next to Bo's tray and picked it up. "'Current Urban Legends'?"
"It's an interesting read," Shirley commented.
Rika opened the book and skimmed the table of contents. Shirley, Bo, and Blake watched as she flipped through the book, stopped, and flipped through it again. She closed the book and put it back next to Bo's tray. "You're right," she said. "It is...interesting."
Shirley raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask something, Rika spoke. "Rather quiet around here recently, don't you think?"
"Yes," Shirley acknowledged. "I've only read about commonplace crimes in the paper, so far."
"Something tells me that won't last long," Rika commented as she took a sip of water.
"What makes you so sure?" Bo asked.
"Oh, just a hunch," Rika said, starting on her lunch as she tried to focus on eating instead of glaring at the blonde sitting a good distance away from her.
As she watching the small group, Molly smiled as she looked at her latest target while pretending to listen to the girl sitting next to her. After taking a sip of water and managing to make out "Then this guy..." from the side, she resumed her watch and pondered her next move.
*Soon,* she thought, her eyes still on her chosen target. *Soon.*
* * * * *
Redington's airport swarmed with people that day. Some were on their way to some business trip or conference. Some were determined to see a beloved or dying relative while others wondered why they had to go in the first place. Others had just gotten off planes coming in from cities like Tokyo and New York.
Security had been no problem for the girl since she cooperated with them as much as possible. Her backpack had been opened, and she made sure they didn't disturb anything inside too much, especially the small plastic box residing in the bag's medium-sized pocket and the other item she promised to deliver. As for the spiral medallion she wore around her neck, she simply told them it was a gift from a good friend as she placed it inside the plastic bowl before passing through the metal detector.
"I must admit, you're doing a good job so far," she said cheerfully as she picked up her backpack and her personal items.
After retrieving her suitcase from the rotating conveyer belt, she was heading towards the exit when something got her attention. A man in a Canucks jacket had just bumped into a well-dressed man who apparently either participated in a rigorous muscle building routine or used steroids stealthily. After excusing himself, the man walked away. The girl's suspicious eyes focused on the small piece of leather he held in his hands, and she watched as the man went to the bathroom. Frowning, she made her way past the river of people and entered the nearby women's bathroom.
Five minutes later, the girl slipped out of the bathroom and blended in with the exiting crowd. As she passed through the sliding doors, she allowed a small smile to cross her face. From there, she went off to get a cab ride. Coincidentally, she passed the man she had seen earlier. She noticed how tightly his fists were clenched as he marched back towards the terminal.
Once inside, the man found a security guard. "My wallet's been stolen, and I think I know who did it," he said angrily, following up with a description of the man who had brushed into him earlier.
Both men questioned passersby about the man in the sports jacket, and it seemed the man would never be found until someone recalled seeing their quarry enter a nearby men's bathroom.
The pickpocket victim seized the witness in his arms. "Are you sure?" he said, inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils as he shook him hard. Behind him, the security guard did his best to force the release of the poor fellow.
"I swear, he went in there," the witness said shakily.
The muscular man released the witness, and he and the guard made their way there, only to find a crowd of people gathered there. Determined to retrieve his property, the wronged man brushed the people aside and burst into the bathroom with the security guard. Inside, they found a few more people gathered at the far end of the room. Their gaze seemed to be transfixed on something.
"Outta my way!" the man yelled as he brushed them aside, determined to administer his brand of justice before the authorities would deal with him.
What he saw next made him freeze in his tracks and gasp. The security guard, ready to take the suspect away and turn him over to the police, also stared at the sight before them.
Their quarry was leaning against the far side of the tiled wall. To be more accurate, he was part of it; he was now the color of porcelain. His arms and legs were bent back, but only his open hands and knees were visible. It looked like he had tried to escape the wall, but it had somehow swallowed him. His eyes were fixed forward, and his mouth was open.
The man found his wallet open right in front of the feet of the statue man with its contents spilled all over the floor. He scooped up his identification card, his credit cards, his spare change, and his paper money. Fingering his money, he found slits in the bills. He noticed the switchblade knife at the base of the wall and was about to show it to the guard when he heard a deep gasping noise from above. Looking upward, the man found the statue's face trying to move. Standing up, he faced the statue, and he swore that the eyeballs moved to focus on him, albeit with a lot of effort.
"H...H...Help...me..." the statue man pleaded weakly, his mouth barely moving.
END OF CHAPTER 1
by HA
"'Current Urban Legends'?" Bo Sawchuk said as he read the title on the paperback just handed to him.
"Yeah," Blake Hewitt answered after swallowing a piece of chicken. "I bought it Saturday with Shirley."
Bo raised an eyebrow right before shoveling a mouthful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. "You did, huh?" He looked over the book cover, which contained a shadow with glowing red eyes standing in an alley. Turning the paperback over, he read the summary to himself. "This sounds like something Bart would like," he stated after finishing.
"I believe we saw him at the bookstore buying it as we were brining our copies to the register," Shirley Holmes recalled, putting the tip of her fork to her chin. "He was rather enthusiastic when he was holding it in his hands."
"So, how come you didn't talk to him?" Bo asked.
"Susan was with him," Blake answered.
"Ah," Bo said, returning to his lunch, although he did glance occasionally at Shirley and Blake. Unconsciously, he felt the grip around his spoon starting to tighten.
"Speaking of Strangers..." Shirley looked up and saw Rika Tamura heading towards the table. The young Japanese girl had her backpack slung over her shoulder as she carried her lunch.
"Isn't that heavy?" Bo asked as Rika settled in and placed her backpack in front of her.
"I'm used to it," Rika remarked, patting her bag, "and quite frankly, this is safer with me."
"Duly noted," Shirley said.
"I suggest we keep it down," Rika said, narrowing her eyes as she looked past Shirley.
Turning around, Shirley spotted Molly Hardy at a nearby table. The pretty blonde was surrounded by a group of girls trying their best to pass along gossip to her. From the bored look on Molly's face and by the way she held up her head with her hand, Shirley thought that their efforts were in vain.
"Now," Rika began in a low voice as she kept her head down, "if you're wondering, Bart's still alive."
"What have you guys got him going up against now?" Bo whispered back.
"I believe an alien," Rika said as she picked through the macaroni, "and I'm not talking E.T."
"A real alien?" Blake asked.
Rika shook her head. "Not a Scooby this time. Definitely real, and definitely a threat."
"So now you guys are the Men in Black?" Bo said right before shoving a spoonful of macaroni into his mouth.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Rika said. "With all these aliens coming to Earth, someone's got to keep them under control."
Shirley nearly laughed out loud as Bo spat out chewed up macaroni and cheese onto his tray. "You mean to tell me," he said, his voice slightly rising despite the untold agreement not to let Molly find out about Strangers' Club business, "that aliens come here on a regular basis?"
"Of course," Rika said matter-of-factly. "We're a fascinating species, in their opinion."
"Bart's gotta be excited about that," Blake said.
"He was rather enthusiastic about that part," Rika commented. "That's why he wanted to go on this assignment."
Shirley looked at Rika with interest. "So, how do these aliens act compared to us?"
"Behavior-wise, they're just like us," Rika said. "To be honest, we should be more concerned about humans than aliens." She noticed the paperback lying next to Bo's tray and picked it up. "'Current Urban Legends'?"
"It's an interesting read," Shirley commented.
Rika opened the book and skimmed the table of contents. Shirley, Bo, and Blake watched as she flipped through the book, stopped, and flipped through it again. She closed the book and put it back next to Bo's tray. "You're right," she said. "It is...interesting."
Shirley raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask something, Rika spoke. "Rather quiet around here recently, don't you think?"
"Yes," Shirley acknowledged. "I've only read about commonplace crimes in the paper, so far."
"Something tells me that won't last long," Rika commented as she took a sip of water.
"What makes you so sure?" Bo asked.
"Oh, just a hunch," Rika said, starting on her lunch as she tried to focus on eating instead of glaring at the blonde sitting a good distance away from her.
As she watching the small group, Molly smiled as she looked at her latest target while pretending to listen to the girl sitting next to her. After taking a sip of water and managing to make out "Then this guy..." from the side, she resumed her watch and pondered her next move.
*Soon,* she thought, her eyes still on her chosen target. *Soon.*
* * * * *
Redington's airport swarmed with people that day. Some were on their way to some business trip or conference. Some were determined to see a beloved or dying relative while others wondered why they had to go in the first place. Others had just gotten off planes coming in from cities like Tokyo and New York.
Security had been no problem for the girl since she cooperated with them as much as possible. Her backpack had been opened, and she made sure they didn't disturb anything inside too much, especially the small plastic box residing in the bag's medium-sized pocket and the other item she promised to deliver. As for the spiral medallion she wore around her neck, she simply told them it was a gift from a good friend as she placed it inside the plastic bowl before passing through the metal detector.
"I must admit, you're doing a good job so far," she said cheerfully as she picked up her backpack and her personal items.
After retrieving her suitcase from the rotating conveyer belt, she was heading towards the exit when something got her attention. A man in a Canucks jacket had just bumped into a well-dressed man who apparently either participated in a rigorous muscle building routine or used steroids stealthily. After excusing himself, the man walked away. The girl's suspicious eyes focused on the small piece of leather he held in his hands, and she watched as the man went to the bathroom. Frowning, she made her way past the river of people and entered the nearby women's bathroom.
Five minutes later, the girl slipped out of the bathroom and blended in with the exiting crowd. As she passed through the sliding doors, she allowed a small smile to cross her face. From there, she went off to get a cab ride. Coincidentally, she passed the man she had seen earlier. She noticed how tightly his fists were clenched as he marched back towards the terminal.
Once inside, the man found a security guard. "My wallet's been stolen, and I think I know who did it," he said angrily, following up with a description of the man who had brushed into him earlier.
Both men questioned passersby about the man in the sports jacket, and it seemed the man would never be found until someone recalled seeing their quarry enter a nearby men's bathroom.
The pickpocket victim seized the witness in his arms. "Are you sure?" he said, inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils as he shook him hard. Behind him, the security guard did his best to force the release of the poor fellow.
"I swear, he went in there," the witness said shakily.
The muscular man released the witness, and he and the guard made their way there, only to find a crowd of people gathered there. Determined to retrieve his property, the wronged man brushed the people aside and burst into the bathroom with the security guard. Inside, they found a few more people gathered at the far end of the room. Their gaze seemed to be transfixed on something.
"Outta my way!" the man yelled as he brushed them aside, determined to administer his brand of justice before the authorities would deal with him.
What he saw next made him freeze in his tracks and gasp. The security guard, ready to take the suspect away and turn him over to the police, also stared at the sight before them.
Their quarry was leaning against the far side of the tiled wall. To be more accurate, he was part of it; he was now the color of porcelain. His arms and legs were bent back, but only his open hands and knees were visible. It looked like he had tried to escape the wall, but it had somehow swallowed him. His eyes were fixed forward, and his mouth was open.
The man found his wallet open right in front of the feet of the statue man with its contents spilled all over the floor. He scooped up his identification card, his credit cards, his spare change, and his paper money. Fingering his money, he found slits in the bills. He noticed the switchblade knife at the base of the wall and was about to show it to the guard when he heard a deep gasping noise from above. Looking upward, the man found the statue's face trying to move. Standing up, he faced the statue, and he swore that the eyeballs moved to focus on him, albeit with a lot of effort.
"H...H...Help...me..." the statue man pleaded weakly, his mouth barely moving.
END OF CHAPTER 1