Gentle Alex Fish
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Josh Raymond looked at the ribbed hawk in his hands and felt stable.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his wild surroundings. He had always loved industrial Falmouth with its boiling, brief beaches. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel stable.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alex Fish. Alex was a gentle friend with brunette elbows and pointy thighs.
Josh gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an intelligent, kind, squash drinker with handsome elbows and short thighs. His friends saw him as a jealous, jolly juggler. Once, he had even rescued a pretty deaf person from a burning building.
Alex’s face appeared through the open window; then her legs followed. Her bottom dangled like a crêpe over two stairs. Josh saw those lovely full cheeks and little fanny hairs above which was something more substantial: A head.
A female head with hair coming out of it but not eyebrows. The body below wobbled and swung backward and forwards in that way women do when they are dancing very badly. There were dimples. And long blonde bobbly ears and eyes blinking open and shut so quickly it made one think there must be some kind of problem with the eyeballs themselves.
For all their leaping about they weren’t particularly bright ones because she didn’t recognize the tall man in front of her shouting ‘Ribbed hawks? Are you fxxking insane?’ in his best Punchy Jones voice and pointing at them. She stared at the object in his hand with a puzzled expression until the noise inside her head went quiet enough for her to hear what he said and get out:
‘Sorry! I don’t understand.’
And before he knew it, his prize bird and only featherweight were flying across the kitchen towards a bewildered woman whose torso and hips were barely held together by a pair of flared pants and who might have been standing behind the counter trying to pretend she wasn’t listening if Alex hadn’t called out:
‘Hang on—oh my goodness.’
She took a step back in shock. Then another. That brought her right up to the edge of the window. This put a large hand over her mouth but a smaller, stupider one began scratching herself and turning red until it realized he wouldn’t pull it off unless she stopped doing whatever the thing in question thought it could make better. Then Alex stepped away and dropped down, arms folded like a regimental major, and let the girl hop in alongside her.
They stood awkwardly, looking into each other’s faces while Josh watched them feeling mildly guilty but mostly pleased. They still looked young somehow but older than any boyish giggling they’d done around here before; older and safer too perhaps, now that both were taller.
Their differences were negligible apart from where their bodies lay, though Alex’s head seemed twice its normal size next to tiny brown knees. And they looked happier. Probably relieved he didn’t look quite like himself. Or maybe scared of what would come next.
Either way, this was most probably how their parents felt whenever they met him. Especially once he told them he played squash and read books. Which was going to happen soon. The first few sentences anyway. After that everything else became negotiable.
There was a loud thud in the doorway that made her jump. On entering, Josh found himself confronting a fat lady with hair sticking out every which way and glasses the thickness of currants who shouted to him, ‘What the hell’s going on in there?’
His good intentions evaporated instantly. When did I become part of my own narrative? Oh well, he shrugged as the door closed behind the sour-faced giant who resumed her mission without noticing the disturbance.
One of these days it was inevitable they should meet the real version of Josh Raymond. Even if he avoided mirrors everywhere he went. Especially when he had recently been working with children. Not that he couldn’t cope with the job now; nor with his new environment.
Just the same old self-talk that went along the lines of What am I thinking, it’s a bloody good job. Nothing is wrong here. Everything has worked out just fine, thank you kindly for asking, so go sit your arse down somewhere else. You can say goodbye to him later. But for today, the imaginary creature standing before him needed rescuing.
The young woman called out from beside the woman’s backside. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t know we were disturbing anyone!’
With her arms still clasped around her waist, Josh tapped on the glass to get her attention. It made a loud splatting sound that drew the barkeeper’s gaze across to stare at the side of his head. Suddenly it was only her face. Young and smiling. Beneath thick eyelashes.
He cleared his throat and said again, ‘Not at all, love, but I’ve got no idea what we’re talking about yet.’
‘You will,’ she replied confidently.
‘Can you tell me what the young man in front of me is saying please?’ asked Josh, keeping his tone even to avoid raising her hopes. In truth, his head was starting to hurt like a bastard again and his temper was dangerously close to combusting.
Though admittedly this had little to do with what he was hearing. If anything it was a relief that things weren’t completely different from what they normally were and everyone was acting under the same laws of nature after all.
Hadn’t he been searching for this day ever since arriving on Earth and seeing what an insane planet it actually was? Did his original purpose truly matter so much compared to living life to the max because no one ever suspected any different and everyone kept giving him reasons why they believed him mad as a box of frogs? He shook his head.
The woman winked at him through the small gap between the two windows and slid her foot further sideways, letting him see past her knees into the main room. Now the perspective was skewed making him seem short for once.
Before the pain set in, he wondered briefly if he looked stupid. The answer was yes, very. At least in comparison. While his face remained unchanged and not knowing how to react, he focused on listening to the conversation at a more manageable level.
For several minutes all he heard was two pairs of raised voices and then the floor creaked below their feet as a number of people left their seats and disappeared from view. Someone screamed. Not inside the café – outside; probably a tourist having a heart attack or something worse.
Or someone had finally reached for a gun. Then another scream echoed all over town. The background chatter stopped almost instantly.
After several seconds of absolute silence, an elderly woman dressed in fuchsia ruffles emerged from behind the counter. Her mouth hung open in shock and surprise at being held up against the window by Josh’s shoulder as he pressed his ear right above hers. He turned slowly away to reveal the crumpled form lying in the center of the crowded room. Several people immediately crouched over the figure, while others cried out as the scene unfolded.
Whatever the reason for his sudden collapse, he didn’t appear to be breathing anymore. A few men restrained whoever it was long enough for the rest to pull out phones and start filming them.
A low moan floated towards the glass. No doubt the person groaning was injured, having tripped, fallen, whatever, which may have had nothing whatsoever to do with the big guy with the black hoodie. Actually, perhaps there was blood pumping from his neck.
But the point was that he’d looked to Josh as if he wasn’t moving in a dangerous way at all. Just stood calmly waiting for help, leaning slightly forward as though resting on the shoulders of some other unfortunate party. Some local hero! Except everyone else seemed so relieved for being able to look busy that he hadn’t paid particular attention to the man’s breathing until too late.
Josh twisted and lurched backward, sliding the back of his hand off the glass. How come I’m bleeding? His shoulder started hurting again, and despite not knowing where he was landing, he felt bad. Also confused. Not least because the noise abruptly died down.
Looking around, the first thing he noticed was the new-fangled security screen protecting every surface against human intrusion and what used to be called ‘outside’.
Why aren’t they coming back to tell us whether the whole place is cordoned off while they search the body and maybe take pictures or scan fingerprints? And can we please go home now? That was what happened when you were brought in as evidence and you wanted everyone out before they could ruin the cleanliness of your crime scene by going home.
And that was also true of scenes such as this one; so much work went into creating perfect crime scenes that the last thing that was likely was any sloppy detective coming along later who might accidentally cause real mayhem. Unfortunately, he doubted the police would care whether the killer returned with a dog or a vacuum cleaner, or a metal detector.
To get a decent sample to analyze, DNA usually required some kind of physical contact. But the smell should definitely linger well enough without those pesky lab procedures messing everything up.
Two uniformed officers came in pushing a wheelie bin full of assorted cleaning equipment as well as a large white tent with flapping fabric sides that helped keep the light out. Everyone nearby watched respectfully.
Out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the old woman looking pale and frightened at being trapped underneath his shoulder, the same way she must have stared in horror when her eyes had seen that poor man’s legs kicking uncontrollably beneath his coat.
His mind raced trying to think how he could let her know he didn’t mean to kill anyone or be a danger to society as part of a gang. Surely he wasn’t guilty, not unless they wanted to throw him in jail for public indecency at a murder site, but somehow he doubted that.
If anything, he expected the police officer to realize he hadn’t done it anyway and release him just like that. With no disrespect meant to his ex-colleagues who did happen to find themselves working here, but even some of them wouldn’t use a taser on somebody wearing so many clothes under the pretext of being ‘armed’.
Or if they tried, then hopefully their superiors would shoot them down in flames for wasting both their own time and the taxpayer’s money.
Maybe he really was safe after all, despite feeling tired and headachy as he stood there looking mildly embarrassed. Because it sure looked to the casual bystander that he was surrounded by cops, and a lot of them – especially compared to the crowd of onlookers – were quite serious about keeping everyone calm.
The two guys with their heads bowed and radios chirping under the grey plastic protective hoods nodded approvingly at any unthreatening statements made in his direction and never missed a chance to talk quietly to each other using those comically loud hand gestures most police found useful.
He finally got an opportunity to speak to someone too when the nearest cop beckoned over a young girl whose name tag indicated her to be a policewoman. She wore jeans, and trainers, and carried a tablet PC in lieu of a gun, as well as something resembling handcuffs dangling around the wrist of her utility belt.
It struck Josh that these things were all very suspicious signs. A normal person arrested for murder would’ve been led away right now, with nothing more than the standard caution to explain why nobody would recognize him from the news. People wanted answers now, so the only sane solution was to tell people what they wanted to hear.