Ordinary Day

A short story I did in a workshop last semester. However, a few peers were concerned about how little background I gave for the characters. So, there is a bit of info dump. Feedback appreciated.

Being the police inspector is never easy. Everyday I force myself to take the last few hours of the day staring at my remaining case files, link every possible piece of evidence to suspect and telling myself the motive and story of the crime. I could always take that easier route like the other superiors and subordinates and just leave. Or possibly quit. But I have mortgage to pay. Everyone would be homeless. The clock ticks mischievously at me chiming dinnertime, just as my stomach routinely grumbles. I sigh as I analyze the papers on the desk. I just turned twenty-one a few days ago, though I feel just the same wearing my unbuttoned trench coat over my usual garb of shirt and trousers. Nor is my old flat cap. With the seasons quickly changing I wrap myself with a handmade knitted scarf, a present from my little sister. Though, I’m afraid she isn’t here today. Usually she either reads her library books or my books, volunteer to clean up, or brew tea for the two of us during meals. I miss that presence, the empty couches and coffee table makes me uncomfortable. The books sit in their rightful place on the bookshelf. My entire office feels cold. I couldn’t remember the last time my heater broke down. The dust returned and settled on my desk, I feel they return to mock me over this change. I retaliate and scatter the dust away, hovering away under the sunset luminance. Unfortunately, I didn’t take in account that they would attack my nose, making me sneeze.

“Master.” A young girl flashes from the shadow in front of me. “Leave now?”

She wears her scarf obscuring her nose and mouth, and a pair of white long sleeves covering her arms. A small top and shorts covers her skin and wrappings on the part of her feet not touching her floor. Finally, her hair was tied up into a single tail.

            “Please, enough of the formalities just call me Hershal.” I replied. “I just need to reconfirm my theories and--”

            “Leave now. Very bored.” She said, clawing my desk.

            “How uncharacteristic of you. Just be a little more patient like you're usually like, okay?”

I named this young woman Willow, she had a codename before but I keep forgetting what it was. She comes from a tribe of trained warriors who nothing but loyalty and duty. Apeaking without personal pronouns is a common custom with her people, since they think of their superiors rather than themselves. Reckless I'd say. I was told she tends to be unruly sometimes. Good for me. She was supposed to be executed for her crimes involving two murders. Yet, l hid the case file, thus discontinuing the said execution. With her skills and my deduction solving cases could definitely make things easier.

            “Nothing today. Disappointed. Don’t get to do job. Death worth it?” She complained. Well it has been a couple of days since she became my assistant. And here I was picturing the perfect crime-fighting duo.

            “I only stopped your execution so be grateful.” I reminded her. “In addition I know you took my mortgage money.” I sense something off, and just to make sure I grab her and reach down her sleeve and fish out a black unit. “And please refrain yourself from stealing my wallet.”

Unfortunately, my assistant has that horrible habit of pickpocketing unsuspecting targets. Her eyes are like a common crow: her purple pupils gleam at the shiny and love to feel the value with her teeth. Only I know when she strikes. I wouldn’t say it wasn’t the wind or anything else. I just know. Then a knocking on the door. Appearing forth is a middle-aged man wearing a combination of a waistcoat, a tie and a bowler hat.

            “Good evening inspector Warden.

            “Good evening to you Deputy Buckler. What brings you here?”

            Deputy Commissioner Buckler. Anyone could call him the real brains behind the police force, ‘helping’ the aging Commissioner. He had helped me since I was just a meek constable. As a mentor, he can read me like one of my tomes. Since I became inspector he only checks on me once in a while. Well, I just hope he can resist women without me.

“I’m just checking on the girl here. She is still a criminal after all.”

His suspicious mode analyzes the girl. She remains motionless as she stares back at him, unfazed by his glittering glare.

            “I guarantee: as long she remains under my wing, she will be on her best behavior.” I smile deviously at my bookshelf, where I hid Willow’s file. Nobody would have interest in reading my complex tomes. Buckler’s attention remains glued on me.

Willow inches closer and gives a hand. “No hard feelings?”

He quietly snarls at her accompanying with rolling eyes. Buckler turns to me.

“Just get out of here soon. Your tenants might need some support.” I helplessly nod, trying to hide my grief. I quiet down my shuddering sigh as my superior leaves with a daily farewell while Willow retreats to the shadowy corner and stand there like a scarecrow. After another hour, I give a triumphant sigh and I clean up the desk, closing my highlighted case files and pack my belongings.  

            “Leave now?” She said with an eager monotone.

            “Yes, yes.” I surrendered. “We can go get dinner, while I run errands in town. Will that suffice?”

            She suddenly extends her hand out to me. “Pay.”

I replied with a confused, “Excuse me?”

“Pay. Want pay.”

            “Oh. I see. I’ll pay for dinner. Fair enough?”

Willow unravels her dagger from the shadows of her sleeves and holds it up to my neck. I remain with an unimpressed look. “…Pay…”

            I went through worse before, so with an annoyed tone: “I’ll give you some of my dinner. Deal?” Her eyes hiss at me ungratefully. “Well how can I give you pay if you took my wallet again?” I escape her threat, turn her around and reached for her back pocket. With irritation I take her by the ear and proceed out, passing the empty cubicles and the bored, drowsy receptionist. Outside in the big city, of the 1950s, the main streets are nearly void of life, save for a small yawning population. During the day, hardworking, diligent citizens often flood the streets with duties and smiles. The streetlights buzz a strong light chasing away the darkness into the shadows of the buildings. The sun agrees with the tired citizens as it sinks at the western horizon, letting loose a pinkish glow. I let go of her ear and we walk together through the empty streets side-by-side, silently. Outside is unusually cold, I could see my own breath while I button up. Then my ears perk up to shivering and chattering.

            “Aren’t you cold my dear?” I guess kindly.

            “Nonsense. Master crazy. Fine with little clothing.” Her bodily vibrations contradict with her words.

            I give nothing more than a face palm with my unsurprised groan “You’re speaking nonsense you dolt. I know you’re one of those quiet ones and don’t care, but I do advise you just wear something warm.” I armor her cold body with my coat, curing her case of shivers. Sure my long-sleeved shirt isn’t enough for myself but my heart would say otherwise. “I haven’t seen snow for awhile so I think it would be lovely just to embrace the season while I can.”

We stop in front of a food stall. The owner heartily gives each of us a bowl each of local stew, with glorious hot meat steaming the air with a side of vegetables and grains for maximum satisfaction. Warmth returns to me when I eaten my first bite, each bite I swallow the warmth extends like roots all over my body. I make a hearty, satisfied sigh before commencing the second bite. Though after a moment, I realized I only hear myself eating, I look up to Willow who stares at the food. I ask her what’s wrong.

            “No like meat.”

“Come now. I know your diet is usually veggies, but it’s nice to reward yourself with something different now and then.” I argue. “The meat gives you plenty of warmth for tonight.” I’m aware she never eats meat, because it makes her smell a bit.

While I ignore and return to eating, I recall her previous lord, a good friend of mine the past few weeks. He owned a library, and my sister and I often come by to see his blossoming business while I partake in intelligent conversations with him. My little sister also worked for him for a while. Now some crazy things happened and now he’s on my files of a missing person.

We sit on the nearest bench and consume our dinner. With hesitation she eats a spoonful. Then she licks her lips to catch the sauce slobbering a bit of her chin. It was really adorable, but I hide it from her. I suppose she hates being thought like that.

            “You’re satisfied with your pay?” I asked, hiding my reaction. She quietly nods. “So what does your previous lord give you in return?” I questioned, since she’s into her little habit.

            “Milord gives nothing.”

            “Yet, you want money off me?”

            “Milord rich. Milord witty. Master not. More fun.”

My face suddenly sours, but I quickly tranquilize them into a sigh and I carry on eating. Then the whole pink sky becomes blanketed with a grayish film as white dust start to descend. An unusual force told me to look up and watch the frozen droplets coming closer to my vision. I feel the tiny cold touches on my cheeks. I fake a smile as it reminds me of my sister who died on my birthday.

            “Winter is here already. Time certainly flies fast.” I exhaled. “Let’s gets some errands done and then we’ll go home.”

After at least an hour of walking through the cascading snow burying the city, we finally reach home. I’m aware inside will have a drastic different atmosphere than the last day I could remember leaving. I avoided going home because of my sister’s death, but I feel I have been away for too long and they contacted me earlier to set up a memorial. I take a small look at Willow who’s staring at the half-buried courtyard in need of a gardener. It’s the first time I’m bringing an ex-convict home, so I should be glad everyone is moping and doping. I groan and enter. Immediately there is an explosive blast of damp moods with the empty hallway. Candles emitted heavy flames on this type of evening. Another coincidental power outage I thought to myself. The main hallway is bare and the oases they call the kitchen and dining hall is lifeless and dry of human presence. I can just imagine my tenants isolating themselves behind their bedroom doors, trying to hold each other up for days.

             “Here are the keys to your room.” I hand to her a key to the attic. Since she’s my assistant, of course I think kindly of her, just as I care for the security of the city. “Just go up all the way, first room there.” I remember I told myself, I want to take her home. Prior to tonight, she had been sleeping in the dark shadows of the office corners. It was creepy but I thought I needed company while I hid in my office.

            I prepare myself to enter my room near to the front door. “Can sleep with master this night?” She asked, tugging my shirt to return my coat.

            “No. I think I want to be alone tonight.” I reply back, accepting the coat back before I snag my wallet from her sandal.

I couldn’t even sleep that night. Unanswered questions keep my mind up. What could I do to stop her death? What could I do to change the past? Why was I so slow? Why couldn’t I realize it sooner? Not even my agile mind could even answer my own questions. My rationale’s morale falls to the opposing memories. By the time I open my eyes it’s already morning. The snow already chased away the birds from performing their morning songs. When I sit up, I found Willow’s sleeping body next to me, gripping my hand tightly. I make one last push back against my memories, as just looking at her, reminds me of my sister when we were younger. As much as I hate seeing her gone, but what else can I do?

***

Later, everyone was present in the main lounge. Chairs aligned to face a hastily finished stage with a podium. I chose not to use not to use the slide projector of my sister knowing that for the other tenants looking at it more would cause more harm than good. As landlord I was at the podium first, but mostly because I was her brother.

            “Everyone. We’re here today to mourn the passing of our beloved tenant and sister. The young woman, who warmed our hearts, and froze fights before healing them with her innocent charm. The sister who reached out to pull those from darkness.” Throughout my entire eulogy I remind myself to not cry. What happened just happened. It cannot be helped. I close my senses so I wouldn’t see any of my tenants crying, making temptation greater. Willow is present at the funeral, sitting at the furthest corner concealed by the fireplace. Willow remains still watching a few break their strong façade and bury their faces from the audience. I observe a few at the back whispering with each other as they glare at her.

Onstage, I remember the first time I met Willow. My sister and I found out about our friend’s secret of royalty, and Willow being his invaluable retainer. I couldn’t read her before, but my sister somehow her hand representing her kindness when she shared a portion of her food, won her over. The next thing I knew, I remember my sister’s body slump to the floor, then kneeling by her side trying to wake up the last bit of faint life. I looked up and saw her hands, coated in her fresh blood.

Then my ears prick up to a rude sound. Willow stands up, wiping her eyes.

            “Do you have a few words to say?” I asked.

The tenants fixed their eyes onto her. They all heard about her. But poor Willow only realized she stood up with no reason. Guided by their eyes she takes the stand. I let my senses open and heard the rhythm of rapid pulses and sniffles. I never meant to put her on the spot like this. I just needed her close by.

            “Sorry.” She muffled. “…Willow… sorry for master’s sister’s friends.”

My mind leap for a moment, hearing her refer herself by name but I keep in check when I notice half of the tenants look away. Her choice of words made many cringe and start whispering with one another. Soon the whispers rally the attendees and join the circle. I focus my ears to hear the hidden messages among the quiet wind currents.

            “Wasn’t she a friend of our girl?”

            “How dare she escape execution?”

            “What faint pupils, the eyes of a killer.”

Then Willow retreats a few steps back, swerving her head left and right like a toddler’s first time at a party. As if her heart stopped I watch her throat strangling itself, hyperventilating. In the brink of an eye, she takes off from the others and escapes through the doors. In confusion, I follow in pursuit of her. Eventually I catch up with her in the backyard. Alone she faces the sea eating the cascading snow.

            “Willow. What happened?” The empty yard’s quietness reveals something to me. “Are you crying?”

            “No.” She retained. “Master crazy.”

            “As my assistant and tenant, I’m here to listen to your troubles, as I do with the citizens. You do realize that?” I told her. “Please answer my question.”

She wipes her tears and keeps her eyes away from her master’s face.

            “Willow confused.” She confessed softly. “Why master save. Why save bad Willow? Willow did bad things. Willow deserved death.” Her still eyes finally communicate with me the signs of confusion lost in tears. “Master’s sister made Willow happy. But milord’s orders make Willow happy. Don’t understand killing master’s sister who make Willow happy.”

I make a soft smile of understanding as she sobs. I gather my thoughts together to script myself a response for her. Finally I speak.

            “You only did it because it was an order. Its technically not your fault.” I give her a hug, to provide special warmth. It was her lord’s fault to blame. He was performing illegal acts, but I rather not remember. He had my sister as hostage and gave me options of letting him kill her or let him escape. I had the upper hand and was able to free my sister from his clutches. Then,

            “Annihilate her!”

She murdered the one person who was getting to know and understand the hidden nature underneath Willow’s soulless eyes. Then he escaped, leaving Willow all by herself. The next thing I knew she was in front of the escape route resting her palm on the door like an attached canine. Days later, for some reason she admitted herself for two murders. As a young adult I remind myself to keeps my eyes dry from any tears. I make one more sigh.

“Besides, I’m confident this isn’t what she wanted.” I reassured, as I stare at the falling signals of winter. With snow on my cheeks, I can picture my sister’s spirit, hearing her quiet giggles warming my heart. “So I took you as my assistant, because it’s best for you.”

Willow’s voice croaks as she conforms and wraps her arms around mine. A special warmth force more tears out of her eyes as she begins to wheeze in my chest. I give her supporting pats on her back.

“It’s also my duty to understand you Willow.” Then from her back I find my wallet. “And stop that please. You’re ruining the moment.”

Author's Note

There is a bit of info dump, so please bear with me.
Notify me if there are some grammatical errors.
Feedback appreciated.
Ask if there are clarifications.