Shadows in Light

There are areas of Seattle that are beautiful areas, full of finely built homes, expertly maintained lawns. Garages and driveways have expensive looking brand new supercars, attractive men and women dressed in overpriced outfits, followed by children who are perfectly behaved and could join their parents in publicity photos.

But in essence it’s a place full of lies, showing a false front for the public eye. Having been in some of these places, I know that in some cases the children are often ignored by parents, left to the Nanny’s to look after, and the wives and husbands have mutual affairs on each other.

Then there’s the more average areas, where the houses are moderate to look at. The cars aren’t supercars, but cars for daily use, and the lawns show signs of use. The children run around screaming and having fun. The parents watch on with love filled eyes.

The normal people areas. These areas show people at its best and are fun to be in and watch people interact.

Well today I was going to the worst areas of Seattle in my opinion, where the illegal activity happened. With Seattle, a lot of this activity occurred around the Docks, and while this area didn’t always look nasty, it was well known for various levels of crime and drug dealing. Many of the gangs worked from the docks as well.

Going down to this area made me extra paranoid, watching anyone who I thought was suspicious as I rode along to the address given. I found myself outside a shop, with a faded sign that I couldn’t read to tell what it was. Frowning, I moved back to a lamppost and locked up my bike securely. Twice just to be sure and went into the shop.

Entering, I found a faint surprise in front of me. Instead of maybe guns and knives, I found myself in an antique shop. It was filled with old vases, grandfather clocks, paintings. Some of them were quite nice to look at, but many of them were either low quality or had some level of damage to them. The place had a faint level of dust that implied a low level of customers. Perhaps it only needed one or two to make rent.

Yeah, and perhaps, I was likely to make Pope next year.

An elderly Chinese was at the counter, watching TV on an extremely loud volume, and didn’t bother looking up until I had navigated the thin aisles without knocking anything over. It wasn’t easy. I think I inhaled a large quantity of dust too.

“What you want?” She said to me, I think. It took a few moments to understand her Chinese accent. I noted that despite everything about this shop, the counter itself was clean as a whistle ready for customers.

“I was sent here. Supposed to deliver something to Ginger?” I pulled out the second card John had given me and passed it over. She snatched it off me, looking at it carefully for a moment before she waved her hand over it. Seemingly satisfied she picked up a book from under the counter, making me jerk backwards as she almost dropping it on my hands.

She flipped through the pages faster than a woman who looked like she was about to hit 70 should be able to, until she came across something. I didn’t read Chinese however, so I have no clue what that was, but she seemed satisfied as she gave me the card back and put the book back under the counter.

She then turned and opened a box, flipping through them again at lighting speed, she took out a catalog envelope that was filled full, then rummaged through again and took out a second one. She dumped them on the desk and spoke to me without any of the stereotypical Chinese accent.

“Ginger has two. One arrived earlier today, so you will deliver them the address you were given.” she said as I took hold it of them. I nodded and went to pull away with it, but she held on with a surprisingly strong grip “If you open them, he will know. And he will cut your legs off. And delight in doing so.” She turned them over, almost wrenching my arm as she did making them slip out of my grip, and showed off seals on the envelopes ends, and the large written text on it.

“I won’t open them; I’m just going to deliver them.” I told her, rubbing my wrist before reaching for them again. She seemed to accept that and shoved them into my hands again before sitting back down and returning to her TV.

I checked out the address and inputted it into my phone. Public transport was an option, but I decided to do it all on my bike. It would only take between thirty minutes to an hour depending on traffic to get there.

I got the packages in my bag and left the store. As I unlocked my bike, I half expected to hear sirens and get arrested once more. But the streets were quiet of police, and people were moving along speedily without glancing in my direction. I got my bike unlocked, my phone set up for music and directions, and got under way as it started to rain.

Again.

Let me tell you this: cycling in rain is never fun. Its wet to start with, and then you’ve got the bonus of cycling through puddles. Sometimes they’re as unavoidable for bikes as they are cars. On top of that you’ve also got vehicles going by with their rain spray hitting you, and the occasional driver who thinks it’s fun to splash you with a lake sized puddle.

You end up Wet.

With a big capital W.

Then there’s the actual drivers themselves, turning left and right without warning. Giving you no room, and then when they finally get ahead of you, they slam on their breaks. Top off with them trying to force you to stop either by horn, voice, or randomly opening doors without warning. It can be a horrible experience. I suffer it because I must. But I know of people that pick this method of transportation by sheer enjoyment. Personally, I can’t see any enjoyment in cycling all the time.

Halfway along I got fed up and stopped for a coffee to warm me up while I dried off in a coffee store. I put my bag in my lap and double checked the envelopes was still there, and then kept it there, so I was sure it was safe. I didn’t doubt what the Chinese lady said in truth. And I was rather fond of my legs, even if I hated using them for cycling.

The rain carried on through half of my coffee before it finally stopped. I didn’t want to miss out on this rare opportunity in Seattle Winter weather so I was outside and, on my bike, as soon as I could, shoving my coffee into the drink mount, trying to get to the delivery address as quickly as I could. Many other people who were walking apparently though similar things as the sidewalks were filled with people moving between shops doing their dry weather shopping.

The rest of my journey was just reduced to cursing out loud, both at and about, ignorant and annoying drivers, but I managed it without too much trouble.

I only got involved in twenty near-miss accidents. Which by my standards was surprisingly good?

I arrived at this large building that was closed off with a high fence and cameras watching the front gates. It was matching the surrounding areas, a well-kept large house, although it had been given a few additions over the years. The front of the house had been transformed from a garden into a massive car park, with only a couple of cars were parked there at present. All the windows were darkened as I looked in, meaning no one could ever see into the place. Despite the other houses looking family like, this one just looked like a building. Not a home. Like no one ever lived here.

I shrugged a little and moved to ring the bell, and around the corner of the fence from the next house over, a small set of eyes peered out at me.

“You shouldn’t do that.” this little girl’s voice told me.

“Ring the bell?” the little part of the head I could see nodded vigorously “Why not?”

“Is a ghost house. No one lives there.”

“If no one lives there, why can’t I ring the bell?”

The forehead frowned in thought at that. “Cause the ghosts will get mad.” she finally said.

“I’m not here to make the ghosts mad. If there are any, they won’t mind me ringing.”

The little girls head peered at me long and hard without saying anything, and I went to push the button before she spoke “I heard screaming there last night.”

That made me pause, looking at her as she continued, “A girl screaming. Mommy says I was dreaming. But I heard it.” she nodded vigorously again then looked at me with those sweet innocent little eyes “Will you make the screaming stop?”

I turned to face her and kneeled. The poor thing was properly having nightmares but it’s never a bad thing to help calm children. “I’ll look into it.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed “Cross your heart?”

I nodded, crossing over my heart, and the eyes disappeared. Children are cute sometimes.

I rung the bell, and a few moments later a gruff voice said “Yes?”

“Ryan Vaughan delive...” the gate started to open before I could finish. Huh. Guess I had entrance rights then.

I entered the grounds, noting as I wheeled my bike up the tarmac drive, that there wasn’t a single plant growing around here that I could see. Everything was either covered in tarmac like the main areas, or gravel around the edges of the property. Guess it saved on maintenance. There was a couple of paths up the sides of the house, but I couldn’t see anything about the back from where I was.

I got to the door and locked my bike up by the door. Never hurts to be careful, even if nice neighborhoods. The door swung open as I got there, and I was greeted by a pretty woman dressed in a maid’s outfit.

She curtsied to me as I stood there before whispering “Please come in Mr. Vaughan. Master will be with you shortly. If you’d like to follow me to his office?” She whispered so quietly, I had to strain to hear her.

Nodding, I was soon walking through the house, that much like the outside, was devoid of any personality. The walls were painted white, and the floor was simple wood. There was no paintings or decorations anywhere as I moved through. Every door was closed off, some of them with locks on the outside.

The maid opened a door and stepped to one side with another curtsy “Can I offer you tea or coffee?” she whispered.

“No thank you” I told her, gaining another curtsy from her, and I entered the office. The door was left open, but I felt that I was supposed to stay in this bland room. There was an amazingly simple wooden table in front of me, with one chair in it.

Guests apparently didn’t get a chair. There were some cupboards around the place, but all of them had big bars running through them, locking them shut. Once again, the walls were painted white, although one large wall had a map of Seattle stuck to it. Pins in various places apparently did something, but without any reference key to it I couldn’t understand them. I stepped closer to look at the map.

The pub I’d visited and met Caoimhe was marked up with one pin. The area around my place was empty of pins. I looked over the map and for a moment my brain realized something about it, but John came stomping in the room before I could focus on whatever it was. I turned to greet him, offering him my hand. He shook it while also trying to crush it.

“Ryan! Nicely done. Faster than I expected too”

“You got notice of my pickup then?” I asked him

He chuckled, still lacking any mirth or humor.

“Of course?”

He moved behind his desk and took the only seat in the room. Nor did he bother to offer me one.

I opened my bag, and for a moment, my instincts went wild. Everything in me told me I shouldn’t pass these over to him. It was a bad thing to do. John was clearly not someone I wanted to be involved in. But I was here now. And the money would be so good. I was sure he wouldn’t take it well if I didn’t.

I took out the envelopes and passed them over. He paused for a moment at the fact there was two and took them.

“Wasn’t expecting two. Thank you for bringing it.”

“The lady at the shop said it arrived today”

He nodded a little, checked them both critically making sure the seals were still good and then at the writing, before he opened the first. He checked that over, then put it to one side. He opened the second and pulled out the paperwork inside. He flicked through it quickly, and then. He tried to give me a smile, but frankly it was a horrible attempt at it. It had, what looked like to me, a sadistic edge to it. It made me shudder as he placed the files face down on his desk “Excellent. Everything is here.”

“Wouldn’t be wise to go back from what we agreed? Besides, the money is the main reason I’m doing this.”

John nodded at that, unlocking a drawer on his desk. The envelopes went into that, and he brought out an envelope that he passed over to me. It might or might not have been rude to do this, but as he hadn’t bothered to offer me a chair, I didn’t much care.

I opened the envelope to find an impressive stack of hundred dollars notes. Flicking through them all I found there was more than I was expecting “There’s ... More here than two thousand?”

“Yes, there is. Bianca said you were a laborer. It’s poor paying work. So, I thought I’d offer you more money to ensure you’ve got a nice cushion of money. Plus, now you went beyond our agreement and brought the second one here to me without any complaint. If you’re interested, I might well have some more work for you again soon. Equally well paying. I pay well for good work and if you work for me, you’ll do well Ryan.”

He leaned on the table, and for once I was looking down at him. It was an interesting point of view for someone so tall. As I stared at him for a moment, I saw the weirdest thing. For a moment around him there was a twinkle of pink? Bianca’s juice must have started backfiring.

I kept a straight face and nodded, “It sounds interesting.” I pulled out the card he’d given me, and wrote my number onto it, passing it over to him.

He pocketed it as he got up moving over to one of the cabinets, unlocking it he poured a couple of glasses of whiskey.

“Here, for a job well done, you have to join me for a celebratory drink” he said as he gave me one.

“Cheers. Here’s to the future.” I said, offering him the glass to clink. He clinked and saluted me, then we both took a drink.

“This house is in an expensive area.” I told him, to which he nodded, his finger rubbing around the glass.

“It is now, I built this years ago. One of the first houses on the block. Everyone else built to match in the end.”

“That’s pretty old then?”

He gave another nod “Oh yes.” Before he took a drink chuckling. It brought another faint shiver to me somehow.

“How did you get the money to do all this? I mean it can’t always have been brought in by Clubs?”

He paused, considering it, running around the rim again as he thought about it “Been a while since I thought about it in truth. I used to run a few businesses here and there. Got lucky in some land purchases that some major companies bought up.”

Ah, that is true. There is a lot of major companies around here now. Software developers, console companies, game companies, airplane makers. The list goes on and on for this part of America. It’s an impressive rundown of the most successful stock market companies.

“Wish I was that lucky.” I said glumly, taking a big drink. Being poor sucks.

“Give it time, do good work for Joseph or me. You’ll do good for yourself then.”

I nodded a little, “You been working for him long?”

Again, he paused, fidgeting with his glass as I drank mine before he replied “Yeah. I guess I have. It doesn’t seem like that long until I think about it. He’s been good to me, and I’ve done good work for him in return. Paid off.”

I finished my drink and offered him the glass back, still feeling a little glum about the fact this hulking monster was rich enough to pay me two thousand dollars without blinking about it. More that he was richer, not so much the pay me part.

John finished off his drink and shook my hand again. I could feel the bones grind as he did “Thanks for the work Ryan. Helped me out nicely. I’ll finally be able to get done what I’ve been working on.”

“Thanks John. Hope to see you again.”

He escorted me out and I rolled out onto the street after I unlocked my bike. The sun was starting to set on me, and I was feeling hungry again.

And in need of a big drink.