{"id":848,"date":"2011-11-17T16:26:41","date_gmt":"2011-11-17T22:26:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=848"},"modified":"2011-11-17T16:26:41","modified_gmt":"2011-11-17T22:26:41","slug":"the-man-with-the-gun","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=848","title":{"rendered":"The man with the gun…."},"content":{"rendered":"
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Fat lookin' zombie! Word count: 29394<\/p><\/div>\n

Written 2500+ words today, putting me almost ahead of tomorrow’s minimum count. Amazing what I can get done when I sit down to do it, leave the distractions behind, exercise some actual willpower. Oh, also having stuff to write about helps.<\/p>\n

Just read the pep talk from Jonathan Lethem (who’s written a couple of my favorite books, but whose work I’ve fallen behind on reading) and was pleased to note that he offered a tip I used way back when writing Illinoir.<\/em>\u00c2\u00a0That one was a noir-inspired detective story, so for inspiration I read a lot of Raymond Chandler and Dashiel Hammet. Chandler said: “When in doubt, have a man come through the doorway with a gun.” It’s good advice, and never fails…. So enter the stranger<\/em>. His identity is yet to be revealed, and this isn’t exactly the best dialogue I have to offer, but it is today’s excerpt anyway.<\/p>\n

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I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t exactly go to sleep. I was pretty certain at that point that sleep was something I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d never do again — something that saddened me because I really did love to sleep. It was one of my favorite activities. I guess I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d say that I spaced out for a while. Entered the zone. Meditated. Shut down. I was dimly aware that the sun was moving through the sky, time was passing.<\/p>\n

I was roused from my mental slumber by the sound of footsteps, quietly and carefully approaching. They were quiet, made by someone who was used to — and damn good at — walking without making much noise. I probably wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have heard them had it not been so quiet both outside and within. I reached up to lift my hat.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Move slowly, friend,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d said a voice. It was a man\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice. The voice of someone who had seen it all and survived to tell the tale in his gruff, raspy voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t go doing anything that might make me nervous. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like being nervous and you definitely won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like making me nervous.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

My hand halted in midair, my other one came up to join it, palms facing out towards the source of the voice, a gesture of deference and good will.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No need to be nervous,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re all friends here.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Westy said, and of the three of us, I could tell that Westy was the most nervous. There was apprehension there. Fear.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s alright,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, more to Westy than to myself or to the stranger.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Go ahead and lift your hat,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the stranger said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But you should know I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got my scattergun trained right at your head and I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hesitate to take your hat off for you, if you catch my meaning.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No need for that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just stay calm,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I urged.<\/p>\n

I lifted my cap, holding it out to one side. The sun had set; what little moonlight there was came from spilling out from behind clouds which had rolled in as night fell. I could see the man standing 20 feet away, the scattergun he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d mention held up to his eye as he sighted down the barrel at me. Slowly, I put my hat back on my head, hoping he hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t noticed my zombie-pattern baldness. I kept my hands in the air, hoping it would make the stranger at ease.<\/p>\n

He stepped forward, keeping the gone trained on me, his eyes darting in all directions, seeming to take in everything around him while still keeping me in focus. He stopped at about 10 feet; close enough to have a conversation, far away enough that I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make a move for his gun without him getting a decapitating shot off first. I got a better look at his face. He looked young; younger than his voice sounded. He also looked familiar but I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t place where I knew him from. He let a duffel bag that he carried over his shoulder fall to the ground. It landed with a heavy thump.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122cha doing out here?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just taking a break,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I replied.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153A break? From what?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, from walking I guess.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Walking where?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153North.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t nothing up north but more of this.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He jerked his head towards the littered road.<\/p>\n

His way of talking was infectious; I quickly picked it up and made use of it myself. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t nothing south but more of this either,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well now, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the truth,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said, chuckling. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s yer name?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Zach. Zach Graves.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, Mr. Graves, I hope you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll excuse my impoliteness but it does seem awful strange to find a man out here all by his lonesome. Makes me ask questions.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I was thinking the same thing about you. What are you doing out here?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

My effort to derail the line of questioning was futile. The man was unflappable. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I guess I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to remind you that I have a very powerful gun pointed directly at your head.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He was right; he didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. He tapped the barrel of the gun with his right hand anyway.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Since you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got the gun, I guess you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to answer my questions,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I allowed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s how it works in the movies, anyway.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He chuckled again. His laughter seemed to come much easier than I would have expected for a gun-toting lone wolf. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The movies. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s rich.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He eyed my suit. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Speaking of rich, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a mighty fine suit you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re wearing. Haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seen finery such as that in a long time.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153My dad bought it for me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said without thinking.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Your dad. Well, wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t that sweet of him?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked without a trace of irony. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t see fit to buy you a warmer jacket though, huh? Ain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you cold, Mr. Graves?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Of course, I hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t felt the temperature drop, hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t felt the cold that came in with the night. I realized that with each word the man spoke, I could see his breath forming steam in the air. Mine had no such effect.<\/p>\n

I faked a shiver. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now that you mention it….\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He knelt to the ground. While still holding the gun on me, he managed to get the duffel bag open and rooted through it. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah. Here we go. I can spare this, I think.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d His hand came out with a black hooded sweatshirt, the back of which bore the embroidered logo of the local women\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s roller derby league. He tossed the hoodie to me. I tried it on, finding it to be at least two sizes bigger than I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d normally wear. In my emaciated state, it was at least a third size too big. It fit nicely over my suit coat, however.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t that better?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked. I assured him that it was. I made enough grateful noises of new found warmth to set the man\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mind at ease. Not so much at ease, though, that he felt he could lower his weapon.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is this how you greet everyone you meet?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153A gun in their face and a warm sweatshirt?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

The chuckle again. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s kept me alive this long. Can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t ever be too careful. But,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to be so careful you stop being human, know what I mean?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I do indeed.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n

\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Written 2500+ words today, putting me almost ahead of tomorrow’s minimum count. Amazing what I can get done when I sit down to do it, leave the distractions behind, exercise some actual willpower. Oh, also having stuff to write about helps. Just read the pep talk from Jonathan Lethem (who’s written a couple of my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[109],"tags":[16],"class_list":["post-848","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nanowrimo","tag-excerpt"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/848","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=848"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/848\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=848"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=848"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=848"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}