Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Blade Runner, contd.

She stood behind the counter, standing on one leg like the grumpy ponies on her aunt's farm, just waiting for someone to come within reach so she could bite their extended hand, hard. How could a job suck so hard? Her happy memories of trips to the big downtown theaters were turning rancid in her mind as she began to loathe the smell of butter-flavored topping mixed with the smell of industrial carpeting.

The doors down the hall banged open, the sound rolling through the nearly-empty lobby. A skinny streak in white and black rushed across the carpets toward her. She didn't move, only raising her eyes from the washrag she twirled on the glass countertop.

"Aimee, check it out!" Russ grabbed her hand off the rag, turned it over and placed a small paper figure in her upturned palm.

"Huh, a pinwheel. Mystery man's branching out."

Russ took the origami out of her hand and held it up, examining it in the buttery light. "Not a great job; I mean, it's pretty crooked, but I guess when you're making them out of pieces of receipts you can't expect precision perfection." He gave it a twirl between his pinched fingers. "How do you think I should display it? It won't stand up without me bending it, which I don't want to do, and if I lay it flat you won't be able to see it." He rested his butt against the counter as he pondered the line of origami cranes marching across the top of the popcorn maker.

"Give it here." Aimee held out her hand, knowing that Russ wouldn't pass up another opportunity to touch her hand in handing the pinwheel back to her. "Since it's not a crane, and since Blade Runner–we surmise–left this in place of the canoe I left on the seats this morning, I've got a better idea for displaying it." Now Aimee gave the crooked little pinwheel a spin.

"What have you got in mind, Miss Sherlock?"

"Oh, just taking our inquiry up a notch." She slipped the pinwheel into her uniform pocket. "Ugh, here they come. The 4:40 crowd. Ready?" Her voice was perky, but she didn't really smile. Russ gave her a goofy grin, though, and said he was ready. "For anything, Aimee."


Daniel Heath said...

grumpy ponies!

I want to see her bite someone by the time this is over...

Chemical Billy said...

I second the call for biting.

My brother used to work in a movie theater. An old one, with an ice cream vending machine. One summer they emptied out the machine to restock it with fresh, and my brother hauled home a garbage bag of slightly freezer-burned ice cream sandwiches.

It was the Ice Cream Sandwich Summer. Mm, freezer burn.

Bones said...

Monkey 0, Chemical - I don't know; biting may cause this to veer off in an untoward direction.

Mmm, trash bag of ice cream! I used to love the way the chocolate sandwich would stick to the pads of my fingers, a little after-treat treat.