Disclaimer: Again, don't own CB. Am very poor.
Author's Note: First, I need to apologize for cheesing out on the last chapter. Second, I apologize for getting this up so late. The reasons for both are the same. I was visiting with family so I hurried to get the last chapter up and was delayed in finishing this chapter. I just hate it when real life gets in the way of my Cowboy Bebop.
Be forewarned: This is a long chapter, I've even had to cut it in two. But I made it fun, I swear. I tried to stay true to Bebop form: I'm "winking" at another of my favorite TV shows. The trick is to see if you can tell which one. It's not hard, but see if you can get all of the inside jokes. This was terrific fun to write and I hope that people enjoy it. –S.
================================================================
Participant Observation
By Starzki
Field Notes # 1: Haunting Jet
At 8:00 in the morning, Lisbeth and Jet sat at the kitchen counter staring into their cups of coffee. Jet was already lighting his second cigarette of the day. Because her short legs wouldn't reach the ground when she sat in the stool at the counter, Lisbeth absentmindedly kicked her feet and wondered how the members of the Bebop could survive on what appeared to be a steady diet of nicotine and caffeine. She had to take her stimulants one at a time or else her mind would race too fast to keep any coherent thoughts in place. Even a third cup of coffee could put her out of commission for a couple of hours.
Jet cleared his throat. The noise was unusual and strident in the typical mutually appreciated stillness of the morning. Lisbeth raised her eyebrows and looked up at Jet over her glasses with expectancy.
He said, "I've got a tip on a bounty head. You coming with?"
"Okey dokey smoky," replied Lisbeth dryly, trying to force herself to be cheerful so early in the morning.
"When Spike, Faye, and Ed wake up, we can come up with a plan of how to bring him in." Jet felt uncomfortable about taking Lisbeth along. Over the past few days, he'd grown to like her and felt somewhat protective of her. She was so small and he couldn't imagine that a lifetime of schooling would be any preparation for dealing with criminals. But he had already promised her that she could follow him and he would stand by his word. If things looked like they would get too dangerous, he would find a way to send her home.
Lisbeth stretched and smiled. "I can't wait to get started."
Within the next hour, Spike and Faye made their appearances. Lisbeth had changed into what she considered an appropriate bounty catching outfit of a fitted black t-shirt and dark green khaki pants. Her hair was pulled back into what looked like a complicated French braid. Ed was at her computer, had donned her goggles, and was waving her arms and legs at Tomato's screen.
As everyone sat down, Ed handed Jet a remote control and said, "Slideshow ready to run, oh, Grand Bwana. Ed made this."
The computer screen flashed a mug shot of the man who would be their next bounty.
"His name is Carter Foxx. He's worth 500,000 woolongs," said Jet. Carter's picture showed a handsome man of about 35 or 40 with dark hair, hazel eyes, full lips, and a lantern jaw. He looked uncomfortable and worried about something. His eyes were straining to see something to his far left and his whole posture suggested he was cringing.
"I got a tip that Carter will be in Anasazi Hill today." Jet pressed a button and the picture changed. The new one showed an earlier Carter Foxx, tall and confident and posing for the picture in a fully pressed business suit. Lisbeth whistled softly in appreciation and Faye nodded in Lisbeth's direction, agreeing with her assessment. Jet continued. "Carter used to be in ISSP, Special Cases. He was a blue-flamer, predicted to rise high and fast through the ranks. Unfortunately, he began to cross the wrong people at the wrong times. He became paranoid, convinced that a shadow group within the ISSP was out to get him. He started his own investigations, tracking those he thought were stalking him. One day, he lost it."
Jet flicked to the next picture showing both a crime scene photo and a newspaper article with a headline reading "ISSP Agent Guns Down Two Civilians." Jet explained, "Carter shot two men he thought were following him. Both survived, but one of them may never walk again. The ISSP tracked him down and caught him. But three days later, he had escaped."
Jet flipped to his last slide. "Yesterday, a friend of mine left me a tip. It seems as though Carter his hiding out in an abandoned house on Mars in the town of Anasazi Hill. The locals say that the house is haunted and no one will go inside to get him for the reward." The last slide showed a picture of the alleged haunted house. Spike, Faye, and Lisbeth leaned in closer to the screen and squinted. Even though the picture showed that the sky was clear and bright, the details of the house were too dark and obscure to make out.
"I'm out," Faye said finally, getting up and heading for her room.
"Scared of ghosts?" teased Spike.
Faye waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, right. I'm not interested. Plus, there's only one of him. Since when does it take all three of us to bring in one bounty head?" She left the room without looking back.
"Beth, you coming with on this one?" asked Spike.
"Sure am," she replied.
"Well then, I'll leave this one to you two. I need to make some repairs on the Swordfish." Spike lit a cigarette off of Jet's and inhaled deeply. "Good luck, guys," he said as he sauntered off.
Jet grumbled under his breath.
"Just you and me?" asked Lisbeth.
"Looks like it. Spike hates going after small bounty heads, the small fries. Not enough excitement for him." Jet sighed and stared after Spike for a few seconds. Then, he turned to Ed. "Can you get all the information on 1013 E. Redlum in Anasazi Hill, Edward?"
Lisbeth's eyebrows shot up and she smiled in surprise. "Checking out the haunted house? Do you honestly believe that it's haunted?" she asked incredulously.
Jet turned to face her and pinned her with a serious look. "I've learned through experience to listen to what the locals say about people and places in their town. If there is a consensus that this house isn't right, I think that there must be something to it."
Lisbeth's shocked expression did not change, but Jet saw a kind of condescending amusement creep into her eyes. Jet went on the offensive.
"Half the books you brought here with you involve supernatural things. Don't act like you don't believe any of it!"
"Jet, the books are my break from reality. They're entertainment, a diversion from what really happens in life. Plus, I AM a scientist. I may be a social scientist, but there are laws that govern just about everything. And there are ways of explaining mass hysteria." Lisbeth gave Jet a pitying look and shrugged.
"Well, Beth, maybe you're right. But there's no harm in being prepared."
Lisbeth gave Jet a smile filled with skepticism but nodded in agreement anyway.
Meanwhile, Ed had pulled up information on the house that Carter Foxx was said to be staying in.
All pictures of the house were either blurry or dark, even if the rest of the photo was clear and bright. Lisbeth and Jet could see a small, 2-story Victorian style house with shuttered windows and an almost charming front porch with a brick and wood façade.
Various clippings from newspapers and lore downloaded from the web claimed that it wasn't unusual for neighbors to hear screams coming from the house even though no one was inside. Police no longer responded to any calls about that address because there had been so many pranks and false alarms. Interplanetary ghostbusters had investigated the house once. But after leaving, none would discuss what had gone on inside. They never published any pictures or wrote up their experiences. Skeptics saw this as undeniable proof that the whole thing was a hoax. Believers, on the other hand, felt even more deeply that their suspicions about the house were true. One neighbor publicly stated that the house was evil, that people who lived in it saw their lives change for the worse. He went on to say that the house should be torn down, torched, and that the ground below it be salted in some fashion so that the property couldn't harm other living creatures again.
"Oooh," said Ed as she read along. "Very, very spooooky! Jet-person and Beth-Beth must be extra careful. This house does not like having visitors."
"Always-always, Ms. Pepelu," laughed Lisbeth.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While flying to Quantico Hill, Jet asked Lisbeth, "You have a brother and a sister, right?"
"Yeah," she replied.
"Are they like you?"
"Well, we all kind of look like our mom. Brown hair and eyes, dark skin."
"I mean, are they driven like you? Are they overachievers?"
Lisbeth laughed. "I would hardly call myself an overachiever. But, no they are not like me. The only thing we really all have in common is that we're kind of laid back. My brother, Eddie, is the social one. He likes to party. He gets along with everyone, but is somehow always in trouble. He and I have always gotten along pretty well. My sister, Kayla, is almost my double. We've been mistaken for twins even though I'm 4 years older. We look the same, we have the same interests in school and sports and all. But we don't get along."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Not really. She's always been the baby. She's spoiled rotten. And I was the oldest, the mean older sister. I picked on Eddie until he was bigger than me. Kayla never got bigger. Now that we both live away from home, it's better. She's learning the value of earning her way in life. But there is always this competition between us." Lisbeth could tell that what Jet was angling to learn about her father, his half-brother, without actually asking the question. She helped him out.
"The competition probably comes from Dad. He's always been so stubborn and tenacious about things. I mean that in a good way. We learned to stand our ground from him. He taught us to learn and work hard and dig in our heels when we need to."
"Ok."
"He's the absolute best. I've had the most wonderful parents."
"It looks like they did ok by you."
Lisbeth laughed again and then sighed. "I don't know. I don't think that they think so much school is a good thing. They think I'm hiding from my own life. But I've worked so hard. And I'm really good at school. This is why I'm doing participant observation. I know would do so much better with quantitative work, with math, with mail surveys. I could be compiling numbers and crunching data like a demon. But, I'm forcing myself out of my comfort zone."
Jet chuffed out a laugh of his own. "It's not too common to hear of a girl who would rather be doing math."
Lisbeth immediately bristled at this comment. "Really? Hmm. MOST girls I know would rather do math than most other analysis. We just know different kinds of people and you shouldn't prejudge. And I think that you need to stop thinking of Faye as representative of all women."
The two became quiet as they prepared for descent. Finally, Lisbeth asked a question of her own. "Jet? Do you go out for bounty heads on your own very often?"
"Sometimes. Spike comes along if he's interested of if there is a real need for money. Faye does a lot of busts on her own. But she keeps whatever money she makes."
"You share the money you bring back?"
"Most of it goes into my ship: repairs, fuel, gate tolls, things like that."
"But they're just as dependent on the Bebop. They don't pitch in as much?"
"What are you asking, Beth?"
"I'm not trying to make waves. I guess I'm wondering why you don't go off on your own. It would seem to make more sense, money-wise, to work alone. Less mouths to feed, less repairs, more profit. Is it that you like the company?"
Jet let out a hearty laugh. "Those lunatics? Really. I mean, it used to be just me. But I think that Spike, Faye, and Ed all count on me. They all need me around in their own ways. I won't back away from that. When people need you there, it's your duty to be responsible and do your best for them."
"Ok. I was just wondering."
"Now you know," said Jet as he gently set the Hammerhead down on E. Redlum Street.
"Now I know," said Lisbeth as she parked her ship behind Jet's.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jet and Lisbeth stood in the street facing the house where the fugitive was allegedly hiding out. They discovered that the photographs were not the problem with the house. The house itself seemed cast in shadow despite the cloudless spring day. It absorbed light without betraying any of its detail, even to those standing in the street 20 feet away. Not only that, but the wood and brick seemed infused with grimy water that was slowly evaporating into a noxious fog that blurred the house's features even further. The house, or maybe its tainted aura, faintly smelled chemical and organic at the same time, like rotting sulfur.
Lisbeth and Jet regarded each other out of the corners of their eyes. "You ready, Beth?" asked Jet. Neither made a move toward the house.
"Maybe we should talk to that neighbor, David Anderson, more about what he thinks about what he has seen and heard since he talked with that one reporter. He lives down at 1121 E. Redlum."
"How do you know his name?"
"It was mentioned in that 3rd article that Pepelu brought up."
"You mean Ed? We read like 15 articles. How do you remember his name and address?"
"He advocated burning the house down! Plus, I have an almost photographic memory for things I read."
"That must come in handy."
"Yeah. Anyway, should we try and find Mr. Anderson?"
"No. Let's just get in, grab Carter, and get out."
Lisbeth knitted her eyebrows together and started chewing on her right thumbnail. She was nervous and frightened. Actually seeing the house had cut her skepticism in half. "Ok," she finally said. "After you."
As Lisbeth and Jet walked up the concrete path leading up to what should have been a charming 2-story Victorian, every instinct in them tried to force their legs to carry them away or around the house. Lisbeth was so preoccupied that she bit off more thumbnail than she'd intended and she drew blood.
-Oh shit!- a deep thought within her yelped. -The house will smell the blood like a shark. My blood will wake it up!-
The rational part of her brain tamped the panicked thought down. She needed to concentrate to bring Carter in. So far, she hadn't messed up anyone's bust and she wasn't about to start now.
Although he would commit hari-kari before he would ever show it, Jet felt every bit as apprehensive as Lisbeth. He almost had to physically lift each leg with his hands to take the steps across the threshold into the house. He tried to remind himself that this was his job. The Bebop needed the money. Chickening out would not put piyokos on the table. He managed to make himself step into the house and Lisbeth followed close on his heels.
Once inside, Jet and Lisbeth's sense of unquiet only deepened. The windows were all shrouded in heavy dark curtains and it appeared that the windows had been painted over in black. There was no light whatsoever to be had within the house. Jet handed Lisbeth a heavy-duty flashlight and whispered, "Use it only when you have to. We want to get the jump on Carter."
Lisbeth nodded but flicked on the flashlight anyway. Instantly, she wished that she hadn't. The foyer, along with the two visible flanking rooms were less inviting in the jumpy play of shadows than in the dark. The house had accumulated so much junk over the years, only narrow pathways existed to walk from room to room.
Lisbeth gasped for air. The inside of the house felt infinite, far larger than it appeared from the outside. Yet, at the same time, it felt too close. And all of the angles seemed wrong. The ceiling was too steep, the angles between the walls too acute or obtuse. The rooms, overstuffed with furniture and decorations, robbed the air of oxygen. The claustrophobia it inspired was intense and immediate for both Jet and Lisbeth.
The two played the beams of their flashlights along the ground searching for the paths that would take them into other rooms. They also remained vigilant for any movement. Both would have liked nothing better than to quickly make the bust and be gone. "Stay close," whispered Jet. "Let's not get separated."
Once the way was illuminated, Jet and Lisbeth began making their way into the first room to their right. Jet was uncomfortable. He felt like he was being herded along a certain path where an ambush would be imminent. He tried stepping around the desks and bureaus that defined the path, but succeeded only in barking his shins on a low coffee table. Jet growled and rubbed his new bruises. As he straightened, he caught a glimpse of Lisbeth out of the corner of his eye that make him feel as though all of the blood had run out of his body.
For a split second in the untrustworthy light, Lisbeth's features, while still breath-takingly pretty, had transformed from warm and reflective to alien and deadly. A flash of light from somewhere had reflected off of her retinas. It was like the glow of animal eyes at night shining in campfire light. Some other trick of the light, or he tried to tell himself, made Lisbeth's mouth appear darker and crueler. She looked to be smiling coldly and without humor at his pain, as if delighted with the sting her house could inflict.
When Lisbeth had looked toward Jet after she heard the crunch of bone on wood, her image of him hand made her freeze in terror. The grimace of pain had caused him to wince, exposing his teeth. For that moment, Lisbeth was almost certain that Jet had grown fangs. All of his teeth seemed entirely too long, but his canines were impossibly pointed. With the addition of his dark beard covering his face, he looked almost wolf-like. He looked hungry.
Both Jet and Lisbeth dropped their gazes at once and took unconscious steps back away from each other, turning off their flashlights. They began paying more attention to the items around them than to what the other was doing. They were both too afraid that the strange way light reflected off of the items in the house, along with their fear, would again play tricks that distorted the other's image into some other monstrous horror.
Jet flicked on his flashlight once again as he stepped into the next room. He didn't see any sign of Carter anywhere. The room was partially divided in half by a beautifully decorated Chinese screen. The left half of the room was dominated by a painting of a desert landscape and the right half showcased a dusty grand piano. Jet worked his way around to study the painting, fascinated by its artistry. It was amazingly realistic. It showed soft and flowing sand dunes in the background with the foreground occupied by a blooming cactus, off-center to the right. Jet halfway smiled as he sniffed the hot salty smell that seemed to radiate off of the painting. For a second, he wished he was there. He wished he was alone without anyone looking to him for money, for food, for direction, for anything. He momentarily wanted time alone where he could be beholden to no one. He shut his eyes and imagined what that kind of paradise would be like. But then he came back to himself and his reality.
When Jet turned to point out the picture to Lisbeth, she wasn't there. Furthermore, there was no door where he had just entered the room, only a blank white wall.