The Siege

Someone has been after me for a while now. It’s getting closer. I can feel it. I try not to look over my shoulder at every noise. I don’t want them to know that I know. I am aware.

The questions keep piling up. Some have easy answers, some don’t. Maybe they’re more simple than I make them out to be? Simple is easy, right? Right.

I’m noticing too much these days. Every noise, every comment, every look. Surely they can’t all be for me. Why do they all seem so relevant? Is being cautious and being paranoid the same thing?

Anyway, I digress before I even get started…

There’s those yips and battle cries in the park again. More frequent and closer now. More noises out the back now too. Quick check – bedroom windows open, kitchen window open as normal. Verandah door accessible. Mental check complete. I know how I leave my shit. Further mental check – to access either window would need a ladder or other climbing implement. Ladder would look suspicious setting up. How keen are they? Bins are accessible and could be setup quickly and quietly. I can carry them so why couldn’t someone else? I imagine flyscreens can be removed pretty easily and quickly so that doesn’t give me much. Still, once a flyscreen comes out there’s some notice for me. How fast could someone get in the window before I’m there to say hi? I’m right here on the couch so the verandah is covered. Was the screen door locked before? It isn’t usually but it is now. Not a bad precaution for what it’s worth. Probably wouldn’t do much anyway if someone really wanted to come in.

Security check almost complete. When they get in I’ll need some kind of firepower. Too late to go looking now. What’s lying around? That little table. Perfect! Light enough to pick up and move, heavy enough and solid enough to make a good thump. Gotta love quality craftsmanship. In a perfect position too. Right next to each door. I’ll picture it for the millionth time – anti-clockwise at head height once they’re far enough in the door. Forward thrust to the knees for anyone at the screen door. I could keep that going for a while. Only problem is it could get heavy and it’s slow. Maybe two shots then it’s done. Put it over there for later.

Retreat to the couch. On a silver platter indeed! That thing has some weight to it. Round house, jab or thrust.

Machete on top of the fridge. Not yet – that could backfire.

Wheel brace under the shelves. Good go-to after the wobbly table.

Pity I put the weights back in the spare room. 5kg dumbbells are perfect. They’ll fuck someone up. 1kg plates. Very versatile. 2kg dumbbell bar. Excellent. I know where they are anyway. Pretty easy to get to if I have a couple of seconds.

Lots of items on the coffee table. Laptop. One good whack. The table. Gotta love a table on wheels. Won’t do much damage but it could be really annoying. Apparently I’m good at that. Follow up with lots of pillows. Now I digress, but only in my mind, perfect dream scene or whatever. Another question – why is baby oil and an inflatable pool always featured? Shit! Where did that come from? Don’t worry – you don’t need to know. Maybe save that for another showdown.

What else have I got? Scissors, swiss army knife – too stabby stabby. Old school wired mouse. Not what you’re thinking, maybe it’s just me. I’ve been lacing this little fuckers cheese for some time now. No, seriously, a computer mouse with an actual cable on it. Not everything is better with Bluetooth. Don’t say TV. Don’t think TV. Don’t look at TV. Growl. Enough mass and range combined with centrifugal force and careful aim could be handy, provided the cheap piece of shit doesn’t shatter on someone’s cheekbone. All I can do is see it in slow motion. Someone get video footage please. Cue a pillow and blanket. This guy just got humiliated by a fucking computer nerd who is apparently just colouring in.

How’s that for an introduction?

“You cannot find yourself in the past or future. The only place where you can find yourself is in the Now.”

So here we are. Lucky I have a project in progress. Good Vibes. Actually still in progress. I think I just time travelled. Obviously just created more than one Now. That was her skill though. I never even mastered teleport. So Good Vibes – it’s a bit tainted, at least from some bullshit in my head, but whatever. I might need a new one as I’ve created too much business with too many colours. Perhaps worth a mention in another Now, but for Now, back to Now.

I’m a felt pen guy and I’m working on a cool print from a major department store with the words “Good Vibes” in the middle of it. There’s an extended back story but you can all get fucked. I’m sure there’s security footage if you’re really interested. See if the tantrum makes sense to you. If it does, please explain it to me.

“He’s just sitting there with his head down.”

“Something in his left hand.”

“We go in through the bedroom.”

Fuck! That came around suddenly. I was obviously sidetracked with good vibes. This just got real intense real quick. Lucky I haven’t flipped out yet. I’ve been awake for three or so days now, fucks me, seems more like four months at this stage. I was going to inject it again but I only wanted to do that once myself. I found another way. I’m calm. Breathing well. Fairly normal. Not too deep or purposeful or it might be obvious. Very conscious of my breath though.

“He’s turning to get something.”

Time for a different colour. This time all my pens are on the couch behind me.

“Are we going?”

“What are we waiting for?”

These females sound nervous. They’re impatient. Uneasy. Even this guy in charge sounds nervous. Don’t know why, I’m not doing anything. Just Good Vibes.

“He’s drinking again.”

“He’s having a vape.”

I’m a bit dehydrated. Like a said, a big few days. I just remembered the ice creams in the freezer. The white choc is for me, double caramel is hers. Pretty bold I reckon to get up and get an ice cream from the freezer in the middle of this shit right? Fuck it! I’m kinda hungry.

How can they see me anyway? They know my head was down and know when I’m having a drink. They can’t see what I’m turning around to reach for but they know I’m doing something. I can’t see anyone there. If it’s some kind of thermal imaging then that’s pretty cool. Too advanced for low life street thugs and bullies.

“He’s been smoking a bit of ice.”

“What makes you say that?”

What the fuck? Thanks neighbour. Cunt. That was at the steps right outside my door. It’s crystal methamphetamine if you don’t mind. I’m too good to get into that epidemic shit. Explains my outburst at that NA meeting. Are they clearing people out of the building or what?

Important side note: if I can’t judge myself as an addict/junkie then how could I possibly do it to her? She saved me. Breathed life back into me.

“He’s pretty big.”

“This guy’s hard.”

“He’s definitely not paranoid.”

Now this guy “in charge” isn’t so sure of himself anymore. Why do I seem to make everyone nervous? “Anxious” is the term. I’m calm as a cucumber. I remember that little hottie who brought the goods to our friend’s place recently – “I feel anxiety.” Who knows? Lucky I don’t read into things. Nice to see her though. On her way out “who’s the guy in the red shirt?” I like to have an impact but I was just standing there, barely said anything. Barely even made eye contact – I thought she’d realize I was checking her out. She had on this tight little short dress – actually almost way too short and hair up in a messy bun. Fucking hot alright! But not sexy. That look, lets call it “the junkie slut,” must be an industry standard or at least should be. Started by the one and only, the original, the trend setter – The Purple Unicorn. That’s definitely a story for another Now and a completely different audience….maybe….

Sorry, where are we now? Now. That’s right.

Thanks for the compliments, I think? Why would he think or expect me to be paranoid? Pretty random but also fairly specific. If only it was two weeks ago. Funny how things can change so quicky when you need them to.

“Are we going?”

That female voice is really anxious. I’m still calm. Why is everyone so on edge? Look into your mental health people. Apparently anxiety is a common problem. Otherwise embrace it, don’t fight it and fear it.

“Are we sure he’s the dealer?”

This guy who seemed to be in charge doesn’t seem to be anymore.

“She’s been there everyday.”

That can only be a reference to The Purple Unicorn. Why would they bring her up? Explains why they would think I’m paranoid. Has she talked to someone expecting me to take the blame? Maybe someone is watching my phone, which means they’re watching hers aswell, but maybe not the iPhone12. “Welcome to your new iPhone12.” That was pretty specific but a long time ago. Just a tease perhaps but “I wouldn’t mess with your head on purpose.” Good. Glad we sorted that out.

Come on fuckwits. I’m getting impatient.

Why is Dad calling? Oh well, not much else going on. Haven’t spoken to him for a while so might as well. Good chat, sorry I was a bit somber and not really talkative but potential life or death situation going on here.

“Check it out, could be something.”

Who’s he talking to now? He’s got an offsider somewhere with access to some good tech.

“He checks out. He’s the father.”

“What do you want us to do?”

Now who is he consulting? It’s not the tech support. More like his superior. This guy isn’t calling the shots anymore. Maybe for the onfield team but he’s nervous and having serious doubts. Who would try and set me up like this?

“I don’t think it’s the guy.”

“He knows we’re here, he could at least come out and say ‘hi’.”

Sounds like my cue. Despite feeling way too calm but still figuratively shitting myself I stand up and walk out onto the verandah and water the plants. Standard procedure – get the empty watering can, fill it at the kitchen sink then back outside to water. I like to do it as greenery is pretty scarce now. Not sure if I’m trying to be a smartarse but hopefully that’s how it looks. Gives me a good chance to look around outside though. Noises from anxious people behind the lattice in the parpark – for some reason I read as female. No one else close by that I can see. A couple of people in the playground and at the beach but that’s pretty standard. Definitely no one close enough to project the volume and clarity that this guy has been using. Maybe he’s outside my front door still from when the cunty neighbor spoke to him?

Time for the double caramel ice cream. Donkey misses out this time.

“I like this guy.”

“What is he on?”

I give up. Fuck you clowns. Time for my move.

I've walked outside with my arms by my side, palms forward.

“Weird shaped tattoo for a guy to have on his hand.”

Still got no shirt on. Very purposeful. I’m not hiding anything. Play with some of the plants for a bit. Carefully looking around to scope any activity. Looking at where this guys voice is coming from but it’s all just dead trees.

These fuckers really don’t know what to do. Why am I seemingly making everyone so nervous?

“Can I help with something?”

That’s a different voice. Oh – that’s me.

“We’re alright here mate.”

This guy has his confidence back. Not sure why but I gave them a clap, not a standing ovation, more like a golf clap. I thought they handled themselves remarkably well after I somehow got under their skin by doing children’s activities. Quite a relief, that was pretty intense. Right now I’m going to get a beer. I’d love a cigarette. If only she was here so I could bum one…