“He lives alone?”
Casper and Anna sit at the table in his small studio, a beer and a glass of water before them.
She nods in agreement, “his house is behind a collection of others as well, one of those ones that’s set back off the main street and kind of hidden by trees and stuff.”
Casper listens and takes notes in a small Moleskin, one previously used for literary ideas and now devoted to his preparations. He hands Anna a pen and an A4 sheet of paper.
“Do you think you can draw the layout? The road, the house, garden, things like that.”
“Outside and in?”
“Do the outside first, then on a different piece do the inside. We’ll need both in as much detail as you can.”
“What if he doesn’t let me in? It’s been like a year since I last saw him, maybe ...”
“That’s up to you Anna, I can’t make him invite you in. Well, I could ...,” he smiled to himself.
“I’ll do my best.”
He looks at her, the smile replaced by a touch of severity.
“You’ll have to do better than that. We need what he has Anna. Without it all of this is in vain.”
She nods and in the pit of her stomach nerves make her head swim and her hand shake as she draws.
Casper reaches out and places his own hand over hers.
“Anna, just remember why we’re doing this. It isn’t about theft or tormenting others, it’s our chance to set the world to rights, to get revenge on those who have pushed us around. This man isn’t anyone to us, he’s someone your father knew, a figure in a play being performed around us. But what he has Anna, what he owns in that house, we need to transform this world. Don’t forget that you’re not the same person you were yesterday. Now that you’re with me you have to think of the bigger picture, overcome your doubts and fears and trust in me alone. Can you trust me Anna?”
Though half of what he says is lost in the midst of all that revolves around her she nods and fakes a smile before he encourages her to continue.
Slowly, the picture takes form and Casper can see the house’s layout and location in relation to the neighbours. He tries to imagine how it would all appear in reality with swirls of grey transforming into trees and shaded patches becoming driveways. He studies the square of the garden and rectangle of the house in order to approximate the neighbours’ line of sight, noticing as he does that the house appears to be placed on a medium stretch of suburban land, something that Anna confirms when she explains an outline of scale. The distance between the house and its neighbours is of utmost importance in order to protect against prying eyes and unexpected noise. Casper had noted after the Ferren’s the importance of masking noise and he therefore made a note to take his iPod, fully charged, along with a selection of cables so he can rig up some diversionary music.
With the outside plan complete Anna answers some of Casper’s questions before setting to work on drawing the inside. Casper, meanwhile, watches her work with the concentration of a one planning an attack. He questions each room as it takes shape, querying where furniture lies, possible escape routes, and most importantly of all, where the weapons may reside.
This last question he asks in a variety of ways, each seeking out a tiny difference in information so as to paint as accurate a picture of the man’s gun collection as possible. His main concern is how easily Peterson can access the guns once he knows that trouble is afoot. Thus he asks, for example, the following:
“Is he paranoid?”
“Does he keep his weapons in one location, or spread out?”
“Would he have a weapon in the hall? In the lounge? In this bathroom here?”
“Would he have any reason to position himself near a weapon when talking to you?”
“Which would be the best entrance for me to ensure he can’t reach a weapon?”
Such questioning continues till Anna grows frustrated at the level of detail he seems to expect from her. Eventually he notes this irritation and softens his approach, leading his questions away from the house and guns and onto the man himself, a topic that Anna is more willing to address, even though there are some details she wouldn’t dream of airing aloud.
“As I told you before, his name’s ...”
YOU ARE READING
Wants, Tightrope, Spilt Milk
Ficción GeneralCasper Carter has wants. He wants to be famous. He wants to be remembered. He wants to teach us all to be animals again by killing, by torturing and by writing his name forever in blood. How? Well, as a teacher he stands before the perfect set of vi...