8. Cheribelle #5
“Something with caffeine. And a lot of it.” I’d only had one energy drink so far, and that really wasn’t enough. Especially since I was about to use my abilities a whole lot. Even though it was a part of me, it still took quite a lot of energy. “And make it a double.”
“All right, then.”
Paul headed off the ten or so feet under the canopy. I knew it was implied that I should stay still and wait for him. I meant to, truly, but as I scanned the area, my eyes settled on a hulking man. Swirls of true happiness geysered up around him in random jets of rainbow sparkles.
That seemed as good a place to start as any.
“Hey there,” I said, sliding onto the bench opposite him. The giant bowl of broth he was leaning over obscured perhaps the world’s tiniest kitten from my view. “Who’s your friend there?”
“She came to me,” he said sharply, not even looking up. “You can’t have her!”
When he looked up, I saw a very scarred face with pure malevolence on it. Those vibrant rainbow sparkles exploded into angry, vermillion daggers that rained down into the table all around us.
“Whoa, whoa, not interested in furnapping your friend,” I said, holding my hands up. “I just wanted to let you know that she looks young enough that you might need to help her go. Do you know how to do that?”
He stared at me for a long, long, long moment, but I was more than happy to wait while those daggers dissolved into dust. Yellow shimmers of apprehension but also keen stripes of cerulean interest replaced them.
“How’s that?”
“It’s a little gross, but basically, a mama cat will stimulate their baby’s genitals with their tongue, so if your friend isn’t going on her own after a bit, you want to take a warm washcloth and gently wipe her backside. You won’t need to do it very hard, but you need to be consistent with it.”
“I… I didn’t know that,” he said before lifting another spoonful of broth and holding it down by the kitten, who drank it down like she was starving, which she probably had been. “Always liked cats. Never had one of my own. This one got into my toolkit.”
“Sounds like the good ol’ CDS to me.”
“Wazzat?”
“Oh, cat distribution system. Internet slang for?—”
“Yeah. Heard of that. Thanks for telling me that.”
“Sure, no problem.” I paused to evaluate if I was wasting my time or if this could give me a lead. “Hey, do you have a smartphone?”
“Why?”
“Well, if you want, I can show you some good cat channels to follow on YouTube, ya know, just in case you have questions later and have a hard time getting to a vet.”
“I’d like that.”
And then he was straight up handing me his phone. I hadn’t expected that. Not wanting to abuse his trust, I turned it toward him as I followed several channels, including that one bald guy who had been on TV lots of times, especially working with inmate-pet programs.
“There ya go,” I said, handing it back when I was done. “That should do ya.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said, waving my hand before leaning forward. “But, if you’re so inclined, have you heard of any good… contracts lately?”
He didn’t even look up from his kitten friend, who was done with the soup and now trying to insert her whole body into the sleeve of his biker jacket. Determined little thing.
“What kind of contract?”
“Oh, any. Got a lot of different skills. Just looking to make the big bucks.”
“Heard ’bout a hit, but ain’t my bag.”
“A hit, really? Must be juicy.”
“Probably.”
“Do you know who put it out? I can go pester them for details instead.”
“Nah. Don’t think anybody knows. Just heard about it.”
“Right, right. Well?—”
“I thought I said I’d be right back,” Paul’s voice said from beside me. He must have been steamed, because he didn’t even seem to realize that I wasn’t alone until he was right up on me. “Oh, hello, uh, Mister…?”
“This is my friend and his new cat,” I said quickly, smiling broadly at the biker. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Didn’t give it. But this is Cheese.”
“Right, well nice to meet you, Cheese and Cheese’s new guardian,” I said quickly. “I’m Phoebe-Bobbi, and this is my long-lost twin, Jay. We’re looking to take on some contracts to make a name for ourselves. So, if you find any details about that contract, let a girl know, okay?”
“ PB and Jay? ” Paul whispered.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Well, nice meetin’ ya, but we’re gonna go hunt down that contract now. See if we can earn the green and some respect around here.”
“Okay.”
Well, not exactly the most informative meeting, but hey, I got to give advice on kitten rearing. Hudson would be proud of me.
“Come on, Jay. Let’s go.”
We strode away, and relief rushed through me when Paul put an icy energy drink into my hand. It was the same brand I bought from the corner store whenever I forgot to stock up.
“Oh, thank God!”
“In the future, I would appreciate if you consulted me before going off on your own into this literal cesspool.”
“It’s not literal ,” I objected under my breath, knowing he could hear me. “I don’t see any cess or pools anywhere.”
“I’m serious, Cherry. I was reluctant to risk you like this, and if you’re going to be?—”
He continued lecturing me, but I stopped listening—partially because I just didn’t want to, and partially because a swirling miasma of emotions far under the canopy of the beer garden caught my attention. Cracking open my can, I chugged the entire thing in three gulps, then handed it to Paul.
“This way,” I said, marching toward the swirl of feelings.
Was it subtle? No. But subtle had never been my thing, so I sat across from the person under all the mish-mashed colors.
“What’re ya drinking?” I asked, taking in the sight of a small, thin woman cross-stitching furiously.
“Fuck off.”
Clearly, the doorman’s manners were contagious.
“Aw, sorry if I’m interrupting,” I said quickly. “But I just noticed that you’re using one strand of Kreinik and one strand of regular floss for your backstitching, and I had to see how it was working out.”
The woman looked up from her craft, her emotions all melting downward into a mess at her feet. “You know cross-stitching?” she asked slowly.
“I dabble from time to time. I’m more of a yarn work girlie, but occasionally, when I want to get really into the knitty-gritty—pun entirely intended—and test my skill, I cross-stitch.
Usually guided, of course. So, I really admire anyone who can just freewheel it like you are. Do you, like, do tutorials?”
The woman put down her work, then studied me in a way I was getting used to. “I have a TikTok account full of them.”
Ah, modern America, where anybody could have a craft channel if they wanted. “No shit? Can I follow you?”
That seemed to crack the crust, because suddenly she smiled broadly. “Sure! We can be mutuals.”
Only in the year of our Lord 2026 would this be possible.
“Oh man.” I flipped through some of her shorts. “I’ve had my eye on a Japanese garden set like the one you’ve got here, but I need to get some cheddar before I splurge on that. You know any contracts I could grab up on the fly?”
“What kind of contracts?” Two out of two people asking that meant I needed to be more specific from the get-go. Too bad the rolodex of info in my brain didn’t have the proper vocab I needed. Was there slang for an assassination request beyond a ‘hit’?
“Eh, anything really. But preferably with more bang for my buck.”
“Sorry, I work as a professional honeypot for some of the card sharks around here. So, unless either of you are looking to be dolled up, I don’t know shit.” She glanced at Paul. “You’d probably be great at it, if you’re interested.”
“We’re good, thank you,” Paul said, gripping my arm gently to urge me back on my feet.
“I’ll DM you later,” I whispered to her before he hauled me away.
“Cherry, I’m begging you, please be more careful,” he said once we were almost back to the same door we’d come through.
“I am being careful,” I argued, pulling my arm out of his grip. I enjoyed the guy’s company, but my more defiant side was flaring up. “Remember, you don’t see what I see, and we’re not gonna learn anything if we don’t ask questions.”
“And how much have you learned with your two interrogations? A name of a kitten and a new sewing technique?”
“It’s cross-stitching, not sewing.”
“Do you want me to pretend to understand the difference?”
I rolled my eyes, but he did have a point, so I tried to be more lowkey as we moved through the enchanted street, watching people for longer before I approached them.
Key word: tried.
“Hey there, I’m Helena Poirot, and this is my partner in crime—heavy on the crime—Captain H. We’re trying to get outta Dodge, but need some dough to do it. Heard of any good hits out lately? We’re in a rush?”
…
“I see you’re playing solitaire. You ever heard of the game Speed? I win, you owe me a favor. You beat me, you can have my butler here, Wadsworth McGee.”
…
“Nice finger necklace. You in the market for a hit? Because me and my lover here, Fernando Renaldo, are looking to get rid of my husband so we can finally celebrate our love unfettered.”
…
“You see, it’s not easy being fraternal twins, especially when your evil triplet sister is trying to curse you with eternal sleep. We’ve gotta find an assassin who can take her down and cover all their tracks so no one will know we are responsible.”
…
“Actually, we’re dolls, Annie Bella and Chuckster, that have been turned human by an evil witch. We want to get back to not having to think. Know anyone powerful enough to handle that?”
…
“Yeah, believe it or not, an evil gnome kidnapped our firstborn son and won’t give him back unless we can figure out his name! We need someone really in the know who would have access to all the knowledge of the heavy hitters around here.”
…