Saturday, January 12, 2013

Identity by Any Other Name

Alright, it has been a hell of a past month. Road trips, thesis writing,  household demolition, cooking revelations, and general mania driven panic, all good stuff but not very conducive to actually putting out artwork. I did, however, put together another short bit of prose, that I just submitted to a campus Lit Mag (Like a few minutes ago.) Despite my best intentions, this is all I have to show for my hiatus. I have the next comic laid out, and It should be up in a week or so. Until then, I hope you enjoy this. (No illustrations, just use your imagination.)

Identity by Any Other Name:

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“Hello. Yeah, I'm coming to get you now. No, I'm on the headset. So, you were right? It is there. Alright, I'm parking, but I need to walk a ways. I don't want the car to be hit. Yes, I brought it, don't worry,” David said as he exited the car. He, on the other hand, was quite worried, and Sylvia knew it. It was not as much that she could sense it in his voice, but rather she was aware that he was not completely devoid of all emotion. Therefore, he must be worried.

Sylvia broke the silence, “The headset is good, it will allow me to spot for you.” No, that wasn't it. She was off her game, she must be worried as well. She needed a guaranteed distraction. “I've been meaning to ask you something which might be useful now. What is spectrography?”

David paused, confused, “Basically, almost no light is all one color. It is a mix of colors. If you spread out the color of any object out, then you can see which are bright and which are dim. Some objects can be very accurately identified this way, but it is not any one color that does this for an object. Rather it is the ratio of how all of them fit together.” “It's a lot like you,” David continued.

Sylvia was relieved, he was rambling. He will be less tense when he got to her.

“Most people only see one of your colors. They don't know what makes up Sylvia Watson, but they try to identify you on what little they know” David went on, “At the Hospital, when they found out that it was my wife that solved the greatest jewel heist in a century and prevented a monumental fraud, they all assumed that you were some highly studied gem expert.”

“I hardly am, I knew almost nothing about gems. The history of the piece, the family, or even the previous theft where all foreign to me when I received the assignment.” Sylvia replied.

“Yet, you wrote an article full of expert knowledge, with conclusions, no-one would have expected, but they are so solid no-one can refute them,” David said.

“My dear Doctor Watson, I simply asked questions of those who knew more than me. If you do not recall, I asked quite a bit of you,” Sylvia said.

“I am not a Doctor, yet, and you knew what questions to ask. You used the answers to ask better questions. You also recognized what was important, and put all of the pieces together. What you are is a heck of a researcher, and quite an amazing writer. You start with nothing and come up with pure gold.” The praise in David's voice was discernible even through a slightly shielded and quite compressed connection.

“I differ from the assessment of your colleagues. I suppose this is a good thing.” Sylvia wanted to keep him talking, but she also was genuinely intrigued with what David had to say.

“Oh, it is definitely a good thing. According to one doctor, I had better watch out. Because, there is no way any investigative reporter will be employed ten years from now. Supposedly, you will be draining my salary to fuel your obsession for jewelry.” David spoke somewhat in shame to even be the bearer of this news.

Sylvia always hated when he acted ashamed, “David, that man, at least I am assuming it is a man that said such a thing, does not know me. He does not know that I have more Jewels than I could ever want at my Father's castle.”

“Will I ever be able to actually see that someday, I have no proof of your riches” David interrupted.

“In time, my love. Besides, you know the difference between knowing wealth and searching madly for it. Where others saw random arson and vandalism in glass warehouses and brass machining factories you saw the entirety of the spectrum, not just one color.” Sylvia explained

“Well, a dragon searching for treasure is pretty unmistakable.” Which is exactly what David saw as he walked into the warehouse. Surprisingly to him, despite his head to toe plate armor it didn't give him a second look, yet continued on its searching. “Now where are you?”

“I am behind the metal barrels.” Sylvia responded, now, very quietly. David could see why, she trapped, hiding dangerously close to a thirty foot tall fire-breathing monster.

David thought for a second. “OK, here is the plan.” I slide my shield over to you. You will need it. I then charge at it, and you run. I'll get knocked around a bit, then it will pin me down. Then I'll chop off its paw. It will reel back in pain, and I'll hack at it and about the third stroke I should land the fatal blow. That is generally how these things go, and if we are lucky, the resulting inferno should only torch a few city blocks. Let's have at it.”

Sylvia, “Or, you could distract the beast with my locket while I toss you my purse. Then make sure to post it with the envelope in the side pocket.”

David removed the locket from his belt. So, that is why Sylvia had told him to bring one of her few links to her previous life, and the only thing she had kept through all of her times of trial. It was to be dragon bait. “Hey, you, spicy breath,” David shouted “I got something for you. Look, real gold.”

The dragon jolted at the word “Gold,” and started for David. Just then, above its head flew a small purple bag which it reasonably ignored. David did not ignore it, however. He charged straight towards the dragon, meaning to catch the little missile, and having caught it, reversed directions in the fastest manner physically possible, which in this case involved bouncing off the head of a dragon. Rolling to his feet David ran out the door and took refuge under a reasonably sized truck.

David found the envelope sticking out of the purse, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was one thing to be chased by a dragon, but rummaging through a purse at the same time is a bit much. He pulled the envelope out, and noted three things. First, the envelope was not empty. Second, it was addressed to Sylvia's father. Third, the dragon had now flipped the truck off of David, and he was staring straight up into it's mouth. This usually is not a time that is conducive to getting good, or even reasonable ideas, yet, this is when David had one. Rolling under another truck he darted behind the nearest wooden pole he could find. The dragon leaped towards him and entangled itself in the power-lines the pole just happened to to have been placed to support. Arcs of thirteen thousand volts flashed in the air. David thought himself pretty clever, until the dragon cleared the lines from itself completely unphased.

“Right ,” David thought to himself, “I am getting my elements all messed up. You don't fight fire with electricity. you fight fire with...” David stepped around a yellow steel protrusion. The dragon, had grown weary of this pursuit, and was ready to end it the way dragons do best. Hoisting itself on it's hind legs, the dragon prepared to turn the shining armor into charred armor, when with a magically effortless flick of his wrist, David cleaved the fire Hydrant in front of him in two leading to a geyser shooting straight into a the dragon's mouth. For anyone so lucky as to see the show, one would be delighted to see the flashes of electrical arcs reflecting off the water in the night. It truly was a sight to behold. Yet, David saw it not. He was round a corner, and into a doorway as quickly as a man in unreasonably lightweight armor could carry himself. Slicing through the lock he ran inside. Placing the purse over his shoulder, he examined the envelope. It contained some red sealing wax, and Sylvia's royal seal, the only item (other than some paperwork) that Sylvia had been sent from her homeland.

Now it all made sense, well sort of. David tossed the locket into the envelope and looked up to search for a source of heat to melt the wax. What he found was a the face of a very angry dragon a foot from his own face. That is when he got his second good idea, and this idea was much better than the last one, although, probably not to the outside observer. David tossed the royal seal into the open mouth of the dragon, who twisted, gaged and spat the seal back out. Grabbing the now glowing seal off the ground. David headed back to the street wondering just how the dragon got in that building. Surveying the lay of the lane he saw a mailbox a block away. Weaving between the electric polls, David heard the dragon behind him inconsiderately ripping through everything in it's path. David reached the mailbox, and flipping open that ever enjoyable mailbox door, he deposited the envelope inside, before reeling around it for cover and drawing his sword. The dragon charged to the box and quite unexpectedly stopped. It sniffed the box, and looked at it on all sides before retreating to the top of the building across the street.

“Alright, I mailed it. The odd thing is, that a soon as I put it in, the box, the dragon pulled away. It wouldn't even touch the box.”

“Of course not, my love. Mail fraud is a very serious offense, in this country. A dragon would never dare interfere with the United States Postal Service. I am coming out now.” Sylvia explained.

“Use the back way, The downed lines out here are a mess. So what, now it just sits there and waits. Is it going to follow the envelope until it is delivered? What then?” David asked.

“It is headed to my father. His knights are more than prepared for a dragon, and I am certain they will appreciate the excitement. They will dispose of this beast in an good rocky area away from the populous.”

David looked back at the street. “Yeah, I suppose some downed power lines, a burst hydrant are preferable to half of the city burning down, but explain how the postal service is going to be able to deliver an envelope to a magical country.”

“My seal grants them permission to enter and vouches for all postage to be paid on receipt.” Sylvia explained.

“No, I mean how can the post office deliver to a land no-one knows how to get to, and for that matter, why are dragons afraid of them?”

“You have a surprisingly great deal to learn about the history your own country. Every child in my land can answers your queries.”

“Well maybe you can tell me over dinner. I'm thinking Barbecue.”

“My dear David Watson, this pattern worries me. If we make it a habit to dine out every time we have the slightest adventure we will consume our small finances before you finish your education.” Sylvia rounded a corner and came face to face with the oddest knight the world had seen in a while. One with a an image of the Rod of Ascleplus on his shield and a purple purse over his shoulder, who drives a compact car, and who caries an electrified stethoscope. She hung up her phone.

“The car is this way.” David pointed.

Sylvia stopped and squinted, “Oh, take off that silly helmet, and kiss me.”

1 comment:

  1. love it. made me laugh. riffling thru a purse and being chased by a dragon is a bit much to ask of one man

    ReplyDelete