Cocoa Tales

Episode 3

Strolling along the empty streets of Redding, a town fallen victim to the machinations of a feline bent on human extermination, Cocoa Tael had no one to fear at the moment. Nobody was around.

Okay, well, somebody was around. I was around. I was watching her. I was controlling her and her world around her, depriving her of the death, murder and mayhem she so desperately desired. That was my job. I told her story and I did it from a distance.

She wanted blood, and I gave her laughs. Because that’s what I do. That’s what my muse told me to do. What’s a guy to do when his muse has left him? Double-down on fiction and hope the money don’t run out.

Oh and I wasn’t the only one watching Cocoa that night. A fellow in a trench coat was following from a distance. He didn’t know I was there, but that was all right by him. He preferred the shadows of anonymity.

He followed Cocoa into an alleyway, watched her crawl under a cardboard box to hide from the world until morning, and when he was confident she was asleep, he pulled out a cell phone and dialed.

"Yeah, it’s me. I’m in position." He waited for a moment, glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching him. I was, of course, but he couldn’t see me.

At least, I don’t think he could.

"No, listen, I’m not the one who is blowing this city to elliminopee. I’m not a psychopath. No, believe it or not, it’s a cat. I’m thinking the Felidus has an enclave near this town and they released another recruit, and this one’s a bit," he took a deep breath and then said, "theatric."

He exhaled slowly through his nose. He’d had several clients over the many years of his life but this one required a bit of patience. This one paid well enough for him to take a few extra deep breaths while he ranted and raved in his ear. It was giving out with age, and considering this client’s affection for certain ka-ka words, he didn’t mind all that much.

"I can make this work to my advantage–yes, I can! The police think these bombings are being done by teenagers." He paused and then said, "Yeah, I know. Retarded. But listen: I’ve got the modus operandi of this cat and I can duplicate it. I poked around the post office and I know how this cat’s pulling it off. I’ve gone ahead and put the same type of explosives into the Deluxury truck. Monty Gerald is toast."

He heard some noise behind him, the backfire of a car starting up. Innocent though it was, he ducked further into the shadows just to be safe.

"All right, I just need to get everyone out of the house first." He rolled his eyes as the client demanded to know why. "Because I have enough demons following me to bed each night. You don’t like it, find another assassin."

He flipped his cell phone shut, muttered, "Presidents."　

Cocoa slept through the night in her alley, but the Redding Police department wasn’t so lucky. Within the station dozens of officers were bouncing off each other following leads, relaying information, bracing themselves for the next reported blast. Every single officer had sweat stains in their armpits. Even the women.

Two of the officers were detectives working alongside the black-and-blues that night trying desperately to find out who was behind the destruction that was slowly leveling their city.

One of them cupped his hand over the receiver of his phone and said, "Any chance the bomber will take out this building, Floyd?" Into the phone he said, "Yes, I understand Mr. Mayor."

The other cupped his own hand over his own handset and said, "We’re not that lucky, Faber." And then, into his own phone, "Yes, yes, we are working through the night, Mr. Governor."