The Fall of Man and Blimps

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 32
*******************

During the second chorus (which, in this version, comprised the entirety of the song), Cal crescendoed to cover a slip-up with the ladder. If the task at hand weren’t so depressing on every front, this mistake might have been construed as a coordinated attempt to lengthen the song for the sake of comedy and humiliation. Instead, it was just another horror.

“…to the bottom of every bottle, there are words in my head, it’s what I’m yelling for yeeah, yeeah, yeeah…”

The zeppelin came down. The door opened. Midnight and Rog rushed out.

“…yeeah, yeeah, yeeah.” The song ended.

Geraldine applauded loudly, and Cal experienced what it was like to receive the most undeserving applause of all time. He simply stood there, comatose as a result of everything.

Geraldine had a tear in her eye: “Oh my! Nobody’s sung to me with that much emotion since my husband… In fact, nobody’s sung to me at all since then…” She stopped to wipe the tear. “Here, young man. You’ve been so polite to me, and so wonderful in general, that I think you deserve this.” With another old lady wink, she handed Cal a box of granola bars. “We just won’t tell those silly police.”

Cal nodded his thanks, perhaps involuntarily as a result of the guilt weighing down his conscience. A braver man might here admit his misdeeds. A more honorable man might choose hunger over evil. A more centered man might resist the debauched commands of a piece of paper...

The notes had already achieved power. Cal drifted out the door, as river debris.

Geraldine shouted a shout of realization: “Wait a second!”

Cal turned, pale.

Geraldine: “I know this cat! It’s Sally! She’s one of my lot!” She lifted Sally up, offering her to Cal. “Here, take her along with you. She must like you, and she knows how to get home.”

Thus, the first of Cal’s cohorts he really learned something about was the cat. Of course, he was in no state to care one way or the other.

This is How

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 31
************

If the Bad Guys were going to finish this off, Cal needed to do more than gently discuss photography. He needed to do something loud in its distraction. He needed to follow the cat’s example.

Geraldine began to rise with another salmony snack. Cal swung around to a position oriented diametrically opposite the undesirable action. Sally fwipped her tail, excited for the food and the show.

Cal: “Umm, so Miss Geraldine, I wanted to sing something for you.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! I don’t think I deserve anything like that, but a wise woman never rejects a serenade. Croon away, young man.”

Cal delayed, not yet ready to unveil his ineptness: “Yes, umm, is there anything particular you want to hear.”

Geraldine: “How about Dillies in My Basket?”

Cal: “I can’t say I know that one.”

Geraldine: “Okay. How about Ross ‘n Bess’s Easter Eggland?”

Cal: “I can’t say anyone knows that one.” Midnight silently giggled in the distance. “Maybe I’ll just do one I know.”

Geraldine: “Ah! I’ve got it!”

Cal: “Yes?”

Geraldine: “I’m sure you’ll know this one. They play it on a station for younger people all the time. I don’t know why, but sometimes my radio gets stuck there and I have to listen to the stuff for hours. I can’t say I like the crunkier tunes, but there is one song that always gets my foot tapping.”

Cal: “Yes?”

Geraldine: “I think it’s called Remind Me, by the Quarterback.”

Cal: “You don’t mean Nickelback, do you?”

Geraldine: “Oh my! That’s it!”

Cal repeated: “You don’t mean Nickelback, do you?”

Geraldine: “That’s it alright!”

Cal sighed, and began to sing.

Uninspiration

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 30
***************

Sally mrowed loudly and leapt towards the old woman, paws outstretched. Before Cal could even think to make a move of his own, Sally blinded Geraldine!

Metaphorically, that is.

Geraldine had reached below the counter to retrieve cat treats. Sally was currently contentedly consuming one. Cal observed, awestruck by the fortune of what had either been incredible feline strategy or incredible feline hunger. The lady/cat exchange had distracted Geraldine from the thump of Midnight and Rog’s door collision, a thump that just so happened to occur again soon after the first, and again (though altered expectations decreased thump intensity in turn). The door was not opening.

Geraldine: “Why hello there, miss. You’re a hungry little kitty, aren’t you? You haven’t been hanging around with this polite young man, have you?”

Cal (genuinely): “Actually, she has been. The last two days this cat showed up at the weirdest place.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! What is this strange and possibly wonderful place both you and the cat visited?”

The place was definitely strange. It was definitely possibly wonderful. It was definitely kind of establishing itself as the headquarters of the people trying to rob Geraldine’s. Therefore, Derwood County Community Pool definitely couldn’t be mentioned.

Cal: “I don’t remember.”

Geraldine: “Really? You can only remember that it was weird? My, a place with that effect truly must be strange.”

Geraldine looked down as she shuffled around for another treat. Cal looked over at Midnight and Rog. They were visibly frightened. Cal looked up above the intractable door. He was visibly frightened. The Bad Guys all looked over at a stepladder Geraldine used to place higher-up groceries. It was not visibly frightened.

The zeppelin floated in its place. It visibly belonged there, where it had been for more than half a century.

Unfortunately, circumstances inspire change.
*******************************

Moving Along

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 29
**************

Cal took the hit in stride: “Umm… What?”

Geraldine: “I remember polite young men when I see them; there being so few of them anymore.” She winked a kindly old lady wink as they dropped the storage crate at its destination. She then headed back towards the counter, where, upon arrival, she would have a direct line of sight to the pilferers, who (as tends to be the case concerning pilferers) currently weren’t being so polite.

Cal parried again: “So, umm, I have a question for you?”

Geraldine persisted towards the counter: “Wonderful! I’m always happy when my customers - or my non-customers who are polite - wish to test my knowledge. It makes me feel young again, in an old and experienced kind of way.”

Cal didn’t understand: “Yes. Good, then, my question is, having to do with…” He spotted something worth mentioning. “What do you think about the photos of us?” This probably wasn’t the best something to spot and mention.

Geraldine: “Oh my! I was thinking about those a lot today, actually.” Cal knew this was the end. He’d be interrogated on the reason for police suspicion, during which Geraldine would reference her dead husband; Cal’s mind would sink into a bog of philosophy as he cross-analyzed the heroism of World War II versus his own, stagnant, dissatisfied life situation; guilt would begin to overwhelm upon the conclusions not only that the older generation’s sacrifice had inspired him to do little, but also that he was essentially spitting on their sacrifice at this very moment, as he watched his fellow thieves creep towards the exit; and he would crack.

Geraldine: “I think I’d like the pictures better if they weren’t black-and-white. Now, not everyone has the skin to pull off color, but you and your friends each have excellent complexion. Yes, yes, I’m sure I’m right. I’ll talk to the police about this next time.”

Cal calmed. The seconds Geraldine had spent building up false fear and then erasing it with unexpected banality had allowed Midnight and Rog to reach the sliding doors. They hadn’t even needed supermarket-themed ghillie suits – an innovation Cal had prayed for a bit amongst the rest of his panicking. To complete the mission, Cal simply needed to keep Geraldine’s attention in his direction a short while longer…

Sally jumped up on the counter and meowed. Geraldine looked in her direction, which looked towards the exit.

Midnight and Rog hurried outside, and they failed, running into non-responsive doors.

Geraldine reached towards the photos. No, she passed those. She reached to the left, circa the telephone to call the police. No, she passed that. She reached below the counter, where store owners are prone to keep silent alarms.

Shotguns and Kalashnikovs are also prone to be kept behind store counters.

Cal uncalmed.