First of Summer - 2

Chapter Two: Bearcat

The cousins arrived at the small, two-story house Ben shared with their grandfather. The deed to the property was actually in their grandfather Max’s name and he would have been the one to fetch Gwen at the station. Had the elderly gentleman not been on a trip with an old flame of his.

Neither cousin seemed to be comfortable about discussing this little bit of knowledge. Despite believing themselves to be open-minded individuals, there were simply some things they didn’t deem appropriate to think about.

Let alone say out loud.

Family pictures and newspaper clippings of the older Tennyson’s exploits as a young police officer decorated the hallways, drawing attention away from the fading wallpaper and chipped walls. Lighting fixtures glowed warmly, bathing the house in a welcoming light. The age-worn carpet muffled their footsteps as Ben lugged Gwen’s things up the stairs and into the spare bedroom.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Gwen remarked as she peered out the window.

“Yeah, grandpa sure knew how to pick ‘em.” Ben nodded in agreement. “Plus it’s only a block or two away from the precinct so I’m never late for work.”

“You don’t say? Where’s the museum or the theater? I heard the Broadway shows here are fantastic.”

“Ugh, you still like those boring stuff? Ain’t you ever been a kid?” Ben shook his head.

“I’ll have you know my friends and I really like those things.” Gwen huffed.

“Yeah? Well, you’re in the big city now! I’ll show you how we have fun tomorrow. After I get off from work.”

“That sounds good,” Gwen nodded, curious about what Ben would consider fun. “Do I need to dress up or anything?”

Ben gave Gwen a quick once-over, “If the rest of the clothes you brought are anything like the one you’re wearing, you’d better buy something new. There are some nice shops a few blocks that-a-way.” He gestured.

“There is nothing wrong with the way I dress.” Gwen frowned.

“Hey, I know that and you know that. Buuuut big city thinking is different and you gotta blend in. And to blend in right, you gotta have the right duds.”

“I suppose I could update my wardrobe a bit.” She mused.

“Great! That’s it then, I’m off to bed. Breakfast is at seven sharp.”

“You cook?”

“Had to, otherwise I’d have to eat grandpa’s stuff.”

Both cousins shuddered in recollection of their grandfather’s rater unique culinary preferences before bidding each other goodnight.

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Elsewhere in a poorly lit area, a young girl found herself staring at the barrel of a tommy gun. There was no trace of fear in her eyes, no sign of resignation or of madness. Without so much as blinking, she grabbed hold of the end and pushed upwards with an almost inhumane strength.

The gun fired several round into the air as the young girl drew a small knife from the garter of her stockings while dashing into the gunman’s chest. In one smooth motion, she had plunged the blade into his stomach, unmindful of the string of expletives that poured out of his mouth in unison with the blood from his wound.

She retracted the weapon as he roughly backhanded her away.

The blank glaze in her eyes showed no pain and in the same instant she lunged for him. The knife sunk deeply into his jugular as more rounds fired. This time a few bullets managed to hit their mark as they buried into the young girl’s flesh.

Mechanically, she started to drag the gunman’s body towards the vehicle he had been driving moments ago. Dumping him haphazardly into the back seat, she didn’t bother to push his dangling limbs in completely. Finding the keys still in the ignition, she started up the car and drove off.

Not once did she seem aware of the serious wounds dotting her slim frame. She would continue to drive long into the night towards the edge of the city until the car runs out of gas and she runs out of blood.

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The morning would come to greet Gwen with warm blanket of sunshine and a serenade of birds. The red-haired youth rubbed away the sleep from her eyes as she rose from the bed. The fatigue of travels proved to be easily remedied by a good night’s sleep and the aroma of pancakes wafting into her room proved to be an even better balm.

Gwen quickly got dressed to join her cousin for breakfast, eager to start her day. In the kitchen, Ben was already in his uniform, finishing off his own pile of syrup-drenched pancakes. He greeted her with what she could only guess was a “Good morning”, given how stuffed his mouth was.

“This actually looks pretty good.” Gwen noted as she sat down across Ben before digging into the food.

“Cup of joe?” Ben offered, holding out the pot of freshly brewed coffee.

“No thanks, milk will do.” She waved her hand, reaching for the pitcher of creamy liquid.

“Okay, I gotta go. I’ve probably got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me.” Ben grimaced, “I should be back by five. The spare key is under the potted plant on the porch. And please, Gwen, get something nice. You’re just here for the summer. I have to live here.”

“Keep that up and I might buy something absolutely out of date just to spite you.” Gwen sweetly warned while batting her eyes.

“Could you at least clear the table for me?” Ben sighed.

“Why not? I’m in no rush.”

“That’s real swell of you!” Ben grinned and promptly rushed out of the house, leaving Gwen to finish her meal alone.

After clearing the table, the young woman spotted the day’s newspaper and decided to scan the articles. The paper was little more than an assortment of gossip columns and editorials, which when compared to the actual news of the crime rate reaching an all time high was far less depressing for the female Tennyson.

Suspected murders and a string of disappearances were definitely not something Gwen wanted to read about this early in the day. To get her mind off the morbid subject, she spent most of the morning unpacking her things and getting settled in.

It would be near noon when she was finished and ready for lunch.

What better time to visit the store after sampling the local cuisine? A hot dog from a vendor wasn’t quite the nutritious or glamorous meal she had envisioned but it would have to do for now. She’d let Ben show her the prime eateries later that night.

As she strolled down the streets, she noticed a cluster of younger women sneaking glances at her before snickering to each other. Now, Gwen wasn’t the sort who easily conformed to fads. She was quite proud of her ability to reject the trends and kept to the more traditional, if not conservative, styles of fashion.

But she didn’t realize that she could easily say this back home with her friends who wore the same manner of clothing as she did. Out here in the big city, well, she felt quite out of place and far too self-conscious to her liking.

Maybe Ben’s right. As they say, when in Rome do what the Romans do. She mused and headed down the streets in search of dress shops. Gwen had such high hopes of buying herself something that the majority of her generation wore, until that is she caught sight of the prices.

It was quite a shock for the red-head. How could such a small amount of fabric cost so much? Even more shocking was when she learned the other stores charged more. The money she had brought wasn’t going to be enough for her it seemed.

While it was likely that Ben would offer to loan her the money, Gwen thought it feel too much like charity. Gwendolyn Tennyson was a modern woman and modern women never took charity.

This was supposed to be a vacation, but it wouldn’t be much of one if she couldn’t very well afford anything. And so the rest of the afternoon was dedicated to finding herself a part-time job.

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At the far end of a chain of stores was a large building with an unusually small entrance. Above the door hung a gaudy banner that read “Charmcaster’s Charming Clothes” and in the small display window was an equally gaudy sign declaring “HELP WANTED”.

Through the doors, one would find a cramped store with a rather unique décor of skulls and bones. Mannequins clad in sequined and beaded dresses surrounded a full length mirror, as if vying for a glimpse of their reflection. Bolts of fabric stretched out across the walls, draped over unlit light fixtures and acted as a makeshift curtain leading to the back room. Ottomans and cushioned stools cluttered the rest of the red-carpeted floor, barely leaving room for a counter where the store’s proprietor stood.

Her long, platinum white hair fell in waves down to her back as if in protest to the current trend of bobbed hair. The lids of her amethyst eyes were painted heavily in iridescent green, while her lips shone an almost venomous shade of purple. With ring-adorned fingers, she adjusted a glittering brooch as large as her fist. Whether said piece of jewelry was real or faux one couldn’t say. But something about the silken blouse that wrapped tightly around her breasts made it seem irrelevant. Her long, feather-covered skirt cinched at waist and draped over full hips. The hem ended just at her ankles to reveal bare feet and colored toe nails.

The telephone on the end of the counter rang and she swore beneath her breath. “That had better be good news.”

“Madame Charmcaster, I can’t find Chloe no where.” The feminine voice on the other end drawled.

“What? Just when I found a replacement for Mimi, I’m going to have to find another girl?” the older woman groaned, “Just keep looking for that little hussy and tell her to get her rump here tonight before I put a curse on her!”

Without saying goodbye, she slammed the phone back on its receiver. She glared hatefully at the help wanted sign, “I’m beginning to think that’s going to become a permanent fixture in this joint.”

And then she noticed a young girl take interest in the sign.  

The chimes hanging by the door tinkled gently as the girl walked in. “Good morning. I’d like to apply for a part-time job.” She stated with the brazen confidence of someone who had no idea what they were getting into.

Charmcaster could barely suppress a snicker from forming. “And what can a plain Jane like you do?”

“First of all, my name is Gwendolyn. Second, I’ve worked before, I’m a quick study, and I’m also quite good with my hands. And third, everyone around here says you’re in desperate need of help.” She reasoned.

The older woman smiled, “So you heard I was desperate, huh? Well, sorry hun, you just don’t seem like the type I hire.”

“What exactly are the qualifications?” Gwen frowned.

“For one thing, you have to know how to get all dolled up. By the looks of you, it must have been ages since you were last at a shindig.” Charmcaster smirked. “I mean, please, hun, I think I saw my granny wearing that rag of yours.”

“And I suppose looking like a chicken exploded all over you is all the rage?” the younger woman snorted, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

The shop owner glanced down at her skirt and laughed. “You got moxy, I like that. Tell you what, hun, you come back here tonight, say around six or so. If you can pass the test I’ll have ready, I’ll hire you.”

“Six it is!” Gwen declared a little too eagerly as she exited.

Charmcaster watched in amusement as the younger woman left. The smile on her face widened even more when she saw the same girl run into a young man with dark hair and earth-hued eyes. From inside her shop she could see him trying to chat her up and the Madame let out a whoop of laughter when Gwen shook her head and hurriedly walked away.

“Lookie who just got the cold shoulder.” The pale-haired woman declared with a cackle as the young man entered.

“She’s new I’m betting.” He merely brushed off Charmcaster’s comment.

“Sure, hun, just keep telling yourself that. It’s not like anyone can possibly say no to the Kevin Levin.” She teased.

“Ain’t that the truth.” He smirked before glancing over at the sign, “She gonna be in here tonight?”

“She might. Another one of my girls is looking to be a no-show and I’m going to need as many hands as I can get. Do you have the stuff?”

“When have I ever failed to deliver?” He countered coolly. “I’ve got the boys bringing it in the back.”

“Make sure it’s not coffin varnish this time.” Charmcaster warned, “Last thing we need is losing Morningstar’s business by accidentally poisoning him.”

The look of distaste on Kevin’s face was unmistakable.

“Oh now don’t be like that. I can’t stand him either, hun. But he’s got cash to burn and he likes to burn it here. Isn’t that what matters?” Charmcaster purred as she sauntered over to Kevin. Her slender, ring-clad fingers began to massage the dark haired man’s shoulders. “Besides, he’s bringing over some friends I plan to schmooze.”

Kevin just shrugged her off, “Just keep him out of my way. Otherwise, I ain’t gonna be responsible for what happens to the bum.” He glowered before pushing aside the curtains to disappear into the back room.