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31_days2012-10-11 03:11 pm
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-10-11 03:11 pm
[October 11th] [Perry Mason] Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, 5
Title: Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, part 5
Day/Theme: October 11th - Not meant for me alone
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Officer Jimmy Anderson
Rating: T/PG-13
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
octoberwriting.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Andy heaved a sigh as he sat at Jimmy’s dining room table.
Of course, nothing about solving this case would ever be easy. Mignon was currently at work, and though Mrs. Norden had left an urgent message, the manager of the Club Caribe was unlikely to do anything about it until the show was over. After all, Mignon was his star performer. He did not like having Agnes Fanchon take her place any more than he deemed absolutely necessary.
So Andy had written to Mrs. Norden that he would be back, that he wanted to check on Jimmy. He had a key to his cousin’s apartment. And, hoping that Jimmy would be off of his shift soon, he had come in to wait.
He was also trying to use the time to think, to figure out what madman could be behind this sadistic plot. He continually came up blank. The voice was unfamiliar. Otherwise he might have thought it was Vivalene or Flo. Vivalene, at least, had some sort of grudge against him—albeit not as strong as the one against Hamilton Burger. And it could not be Vivalene anyway, of course. Not when she was lying comatose in the prison hospital.
Flo, meanwhile, was awaiting trial for putting the entire world under a curse where she had ruled as the dark queen. And if she was angry at any one specific person, it was probably Perry Mason. He had been the one to bring her down in the end.
It could be any one of a number of people Andy had arrested. Or any one of any of their families or friends. But on the other hand, he still did not know that he was the intended target. Maybe this nutcase had really been after Tragg or Jimmy or even Mrs. Norden.
Even if Andy had been the target all along, this was a far-reaching spell. It affected everyone he knew and loved. And it also affected friends of those people, whether Andy knew them or not. His family and friends were grieving, which would certainly take a toll on their other friends.
The door opened and Jimmy trudged in, wearily tossing his jacket in a chair. Andy looked up and then paled. “Jimmy,” he whispered in alarm.
His cousin looked as though he had aged several years instead of weeks. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of little sleep and long hours. The sadness in his eyes spoke of much more. Andy had not been here to witness these changes, but he did not need to have been. He saw them all in Jimmy’s eyes.
Andy got up, coming around the table. “Jimmy?” he called, softly and without hope.
What would be the best approach here? Should he try to write Jimmy a message, as he had done with Mrs. Norden? Or would that shock Jimmy too much? In any case, Mrs. Norden had come to believe Andy was there before he tried writing anything to her.
He reached to catch hold of Jimmy’s arm as the kid walked by. Instead, the uniform’s shirtsleeve slipped through his fingers. Jimmy never noticed.
Andy fell back, swallowing hard. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to tell himself. It did not mean he was dead.
He tried again. This time he managed to keep hold of a pinch of the cloth. Jimmy paused and turned in confused surprise. “What the . . .” His eyes widened at the sight of seemingly nothing clutching his sleeve.
Andy gripped tighter. “Oh, Jimmy, please,” he begged. “Please understand. Please realize it’s me.”
Jimmy reached with his other hand, feeling in the air for any possible explanation. His eyes widened. Shaken, he pulled his arm free. “What’s . . . what is this?”
Disheartened, Andy rested a hand on the kid’s shoulder this time. “Jimmy, please,” he whispered.
Jimmy shivered. But this time, something seemed to be getting through. “Andy?” He looked back, desperate, hoping for some sign of his beloved cousin.
Andy could only draw a deep breath. “Yes, Jimmy,” he said quietly. “Yes, it’s me.”
Jimmy tried to smile, but it was sad. “I knew you’d hang around.”
Andy wanted to say he was not dead. But the longer this went on, the less sure he was and the less alive he felt. And he could not be heard anyway. So for now he just stayed where he was, with Jimmy, and was thankful that at least he had something.
Jimmy sank down at the table now. “Don’t think I’m not grateful, Andy, but it’s . . . it’s not the same.” He looked to where he thought Andy was standing. “We can’t even talk, like we always could before. I know it’s hurting you as much as it’s hurting me. Maybe more. But . . . thanks, for coming to check on me. I’m glad you’re here.”
Andy sat down next to him. “I know it’s not the same,” he said. “I wish I knew if there was anything I could do to change this. If there is, it’s eluding me. And we can’t even get in touch with Mrs. Germaine. . . .”
He removed his hat, running a hand into his hair. Maybe he should try writing to Jimmy now.
“Don’t think it will work twice.”
He started at the cruel voice. “What?! Why won’t it?” he retorted.
“You found it much harder to keep hold of Jimmy than you did Mrs. Norden, or didn’t you notice?”
“I noticed,” Andy retorted darkly. “What is it, I’m literally losing touch with reality?”
“That happened long ago, Lieutenant Anderson. But go ahead and try to pick up a pencil or a piece of paper. It will slip right out, just as if you were a ghost.”
“And how do I know I’m not?!” Andy shot back. “I feel about as alive as one.”
The laughter began to fade. “Well, it’s true that you really only have my word for it. Maybe you are just a wandering spirit who can’t accept his fate. Maybe you’re imagining your heartbeat and your breath. Maybe you’re dead.”
The last word was barely audible, but Andy could make it out. He slumped back in the chair, chilled to the bone—if he really still had bones right now.
“What if I’ve given Mama Norden false hope?” he whispered in horror. “What if there is no hope?”
He looked to Jimmy, who was slowly getting up from the table and going to the cupboard for a glass. As Jimmy brought it back to the table, Andy grabbed for it. It seemed to pass through his fingers. Trying several more times only produced the same result. And grabbing for Jimmy was now equally impossible.
The color and light drained from his face. He would not even be able to contact Mrs. Norden again, once she got in touch with Mignon.
“I’ve been fooling myself,” he choked out in grief. “I didn’t want to be dead, so I believed that voice. But everything points to one fact and one fact only.
“I’m dead. Heaven help me, I really am dead.”
Day/Theme: October 11th - Not meant for me alone
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Officer Jimmy Anderson
Rating: T/PG-13
Cross-posted to
octoberwriting.Andy heaved a sigh as he sat at Jimmy’s dining room table.
Of course, nothing about solving this case would ever be easy. Mignon was currently at work, and though Mrs. Norden had left an urgent message, the manager of the Club Caribe was unlikely to do anything about it until the show was over. After all, Mignon was his star performer. He did not like having Agnes Fanchon take her place any more than he deemed absolutely necessary.
So Andy had written to Mrs. Norden that he would be back, that he wanted to check on Jimmy. He had a key to his cousin’s apartment. And, hoping that Jimmy would be off of his shift soon, he had come in to wait.
He was also trying to use the time to think, to figure out what madman could be behind this sadistic plot. He continually came up blank. The voice was unfamiliar. Otherwise he might have thought it was Vivalene or Flo. Vivalene, at least, had some sort of grudge against him—albeit not as strong as the one against Hamilton Burger. And it could not be Vivalene anyway, of course. Not when she was lying comatose in the prison hospital.
Flo, meanwhile, was awaiting trial for putting the entire world under a curse where she had ruled as the dark queen. And if she was angry at any one specific person, it was probably Perry Mason. He had been the one to bring her down in the end.
It could be any one of a number of people Andy had arrested. Or any one of any of their families or friends. But on the other hand, he still did not know that he was the intended target. Maybe this nutcase had really been after Tragg or Jimmy or even Mrs. Norden.
Even if Andy had been the target all along, this was a far-reaching spell. It affected everyone he knew and loved. And it also affected friends of those people, whether Andy knew them or not. His family and friends were grieving, which would certainly take a toll on their other friends.
The door opened and Jimmy trudged in, wearily tossing his jacket in a chair. Andy looked up and then paled. “Jimmy,” he whispered in alarm.
His cousin looked as though he had aged several years instead of weeks. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of little sleep and long hours. The sadness in his eyes spoke of much more. Andy had not been here to witness these changes, but he did not need to have been. He saw them all in Jimmy’s eyes.
Andy got up, coming around the table. “Jimmy?” he called, softly and without hope.
What would be the best approach here? Should he try to write Jimmy a message, as he had done with Mrs. Norden? Or would that shock Jimmy too much? In any case, Mrs. Norden had come to believe Andy was there before he tried writing anything to her.
He reached to catch hold of Jimmy’s arm as the kid walked by. Instead, the uniform’s shirtsleeve slipped through his fingers. Jimmy never noticed.
Andy fell back, swallowing hard. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to tell himself. It did not mean he was dead.
He tried again. This time he managed to keep hold of a pinch of the cloth. Jimmy paused and turned in confused surprise. “What the . . .” His eyes widened at the sight of seemingly nothing clutching his sleeve.
Andy gripped tighter. “Oh, Jimmy, please,” he begged. “Please understand. Please realize it’s me.”
Jimmy reached with his other hand, feeling in the air for any possible explanation. His eyes widened. Shaken, he pulled his arm free. “What’s . . . what is this?”
Disheartened, Andy rested a hand on the kid’s shoulder this time. “Jimmy, please,” he whispered.
Jimmy shivered. But this time, something seemed to be getting through. “Andy?” He looked back, desperate, hoping for some sign of his beloved cousin.
Andy could only draw a deep breath. “Yes, Jimmy,” he said quietly. “Yes, it’s me.”
Jimmy tried to smile, but it was sad. “I knew you’d hang around.”
Andy wanted to say he was not dead. But the longer this went on, the less sure he was and the less alive he felt. And he could not be heard anyway. So for now he just stayed where he was, with Jimmy, and was thankful that at least he had something.
Jimmy sank down at the table now. “Don’t think I’m not grateful, Andy, but it’s . . . it’s not the same.” He looked to where he thought Andy was standing. “We can’t even talk, like we always could before. I know it’s hurting you as much as it’s hurting me. Maybe more. But . . . thanks, for coming to check on me. I’m glad you’re here.”
Andy sat down next to him. “I know it’s not the same,” he said. “I wish I knew if there was anything I could do to change this. If there is, it’s eluding me. And we can’t even get in touch with Mrs. Germaine. . . .”
He removed his hat, running a hand into his hair. Maybe he should try writing to Jimmy now.
“Don’t think it will work twice.”
He started at the cruel voice. “What?! Why won’t it?” he retorted.
“You found it much harder to keep hold of Jimmy than you did Mrs. Norden, or didn’t you notice?”
“I noticed,” Andy retorted darkly. “What is it, I’m literally losing touch with reality?”
“That happened long ago, Lieutenant Anderson. But go ahead and try to pick up a pencil or a piece of paper. It will slip right out, just as if you were a ghost.”
“And how do I know I’m not?!” Andy shot back. “I feel about as alive as one.”
The laughter began to fade. “Well, it’s true that you really only have my word for it. Maybe you are just a wandering spirit who can’t accept his fate. Maybe you’re imagining your heartbeat and your breath. Maybe you’re dead.”
The last word was barely audible, but Andy could make it out. He slumped back in the chair, chilled to the bone—if he really still had bones right now.
“What if I’ve given Mama Norden false hope?” he whispered in horror. “What if there is no hope?”
He looked to Jimmy, who was slowly getting up from the table and going to the cupboard for a glass. As Jimmy brought it back to the table, Andy grabbed for it. It seemed to pass through his fingers. Trying several more times only produced the same result. And grabbing for Jimmy was now equally impossible.
The color and light drained from his face. He would not even be able to contact Mrs. Norden again, once she got in touch with Mignon.
“I’ve been fooling myself,” he choked out in grief. “I didn’t want to be dead, so I believed that voice. But everything points to one fact and one fact only.
“I’m dead. Heaven help me, I really am dead.”