Clinic Duty

Let me see...Mr. George Jefferson stopped by this morning for treatment. Major bruising and cuts. Refused to answer questions pertaining to injuries. Left before actual treatment. A similiar situation with a Mr. Ford...

Well I imagine he would be in a hurry to leave the clinic when they ask so many penetrating questions in this cloister of a city. In fact, in the bulk of the patient records there are few who stay more than one night. Of course it makes for a harder investigation when every single person acts suspiciously.

"Oh-Um...officer Seebach?"
"Ah, forgive me, this is Seebach."
"Um, yes. Thank you for coming in. It's always good to know you are helping out in hand with the clinic."

Even if I had something to do today, at Ms. Evans invitation, all the red markings on my calendar had magically disappeared. Even if she requested we meet on the 29th of February, I would still be there. Who cares about something as trivial as a leap year? It is always a profitable source of information at the free clinic. Injuries tell secrets.

"Well please continue to report in officer, thank you very much."
"Ah. Please turn the light out as you leave."
"Aren't you reading--? Alright."

I toyed with the golden badge on my shirt as I hunched over a box of documents. The small closet was a bit more spacious than the room in my apartment. Gratefully many people don't see what's important, just the uniform. Of course that is as good a factor as bad in a place like this. The name on my uniform read "Barnheart." Technically it was Brone's uniform which he uses on certain occasions, but thats why I took his identification for alteration earlier.

Ring Ring.

A normal ringtone for my normal role-playing.

"This is Seebach."
"Michael, what the hell. Give me my ID."
"It's purpose has not reached fulfillment, I would like to use it at least once."
"I need it much more than you idiot. Don't think you can trade me a hundred bucks for it."
"You were asked for identification? Really?"
"Unbelievable huh? but that's not important, of course I'm calling you for a reason. So listen carefully, because I'm serious about it."

You called all of a sudden just to say you're serious? After such an ambiguous sentence, my wits were at an end as to guessing just what he was trying to say. Listening carefully it did seem he had a real reason for calling me rather than to complain. This could be a critical situation.

"Perhaps...I shall rendevouz with you later, time and place shall depend on the developing situation."

I thought I would be finishing up around here but it seems the grandson of that cookie woman has just arrived.

"G-g-g-g--!"

Ghosts? Grandma? Speaking of which, Mrs. Pearl seems to be holding a klondike bar. Should I ask her for it-No, she's already seen me before, I can't ruin this relationship I hold at the hospital. I should be meeting with Brone shortly, before the scene dissolves to nothing. While i'm walking, let us organize Alexander's Andromeda Strain-induced ramblings. Not to say it has something to do with clotting.

Perhaps Mr. Jefferson. Strangely enough, he is the only person whom I can recall with a "G" in his name. Ah, well. Out into the rainy streets.

Ow.

Worthless doll. It's even sleeting now. The worst possible weather for me besides a desert country sandstorm. Snow melts quickly, sleet decides to wait awhile after it hits you in the eye to melt. I'm basically blind outside at dusk. I couldn't imagine a more fun-derful situation if I had payed for those tapes teaching one how to be more expressive.

Useless tapes.

I have put in a call to Brone to pick me up, his reply being; "somewhere in between the time he has to stop grabbing onto his carpet to stop himself from falling off the earth." Vodka is quite a powerful drink I suppose.

More interestingly, that is the seventh time that van has passed by this area. No license plate or markings, black. Or perhaps it only looks that way through one eye. I really wouldn't know, I usually have both in use. At least my ears work fine, and they are definitely telling me that it probably isn't safe outside.

"Excuse me."

A waitress with hands on hips looked appraisingly upon the thin stranger sitting yoga style in the booth.

"Yes?"
"Are you going to use all of the sugar you found? We put them on seperate tables for a reason."
"Perhaps the amount of sugar you placed was insufficient."
"...There were at least 50 packets."
"Yes. And I have had how many cups of coffee?"
"...Seven."
"Indeed."

She was still staring at me. Did she not understand our conversation? It should be simple enough to understand. Ah, she's servicing the woman at the table. Hm. Her laptop screen is either reflecting red light at a high percentage, or the woman is flushed. Well, the weather outside would cause such a change in health. I myself am rather uncomfortable with the numbing sensation in my bare toes. The fact that the waitress did not want to serve me while I had no shoes on did not temper my frustration.

"********* ice cream?"

Hm...I heard ask cream? Not a bad idea. I should ask for some as well.

"Elizabeth! ELIZABETH!?"

...She's busy, I'll ask later.

?

Shakka Shakka Shakka.

Someone was trying to enter? No. The warehouse shutter doors were being rattled noisily by the wind outside. This area seems prone to violent weather patterns. Maybe I should pray to the teru teru bozu? I should have enough time to waste to make around 50...

Perhaps this weather is here for a reason? Demons, Magicians, H.P. Lovecrafts fanclub, who knows. If anything, the girl whom walks around speaking in rhythmic tempo seems the most likely candidate for an unnatural occurrence in this vicinity. Mmmf, heavy. I've heard of something like her before...an Ameonna? No weather reports seem to be conclusive in terms of why the skies only become darker each day. Most likely a reference to my brain functions slowly wasting away in this place. Soon it will be pitch black and Dennis Quaid will have to come unthaw us from certain death.

Yes, there is certainly a large amount of materials here. Mr. Machelli really should care more about what and where he keeps his storage. Of course he doesn't have to, he does have a large area of influence. Reporting everything I have found comes for later, this is just one stop in many and I can only help when I'm gone. Only a few more days in this place.

**********************************************************

Yep. Still cloudy and very windy. My shoes have actually left my feet and are being blown down the sidewalk. I suppose I should put a stopper on any other investigation today.

Is that someone laying in the street?...It appears a bike crawled out from a manhole and attacked him, thats always unfortunate. Well, i'm certain there are rules for a situation like that. One of them most likely being, don't go near people bleeding violently in a ghetto. Its not as if I don't care, I am not a police officer. I am a detective. I should never be seen, only heard as a voice which aids with justice. This place isn't boring, you have to be awake most of the day to really know who and what is going to kill you. A mental challenge is what I want, and nothing here has more than a highschool degree.

"STOP! POLICE!"

And of course, there is always something going on. Someone is being chased down the street this very moment...

I wonder if brone bought any blueberry cream cheese with his bagels...

"Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
Like the sky in a dream sometime
If it's sunny I'll give you a golden bell
Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
If you make my wish come true
We'll drink lots of sweet rice wine
Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
But if it's cloudy and you are crying
Then I shall snip your head off"