Jorge Joestar (Light Novel)

Chapter 3: Wounds

Tsukumojuku was missing, presumed dead, and it seemed my days of adventure had ended. I went to school, barely spoke to anyone but Mum, and had my nose in a book all day long, at school or at home. Even though I'd had no friends as a child, and rarely went outside, I'd not been much of a reader. But being friends with Tsukumojuku and seeing how he used the information he'd learned to help him solve cases and increase the flexibility of his thought processes made me incapable of remaining ignorant. But I still hated studying and never really took school seriously, so I couldn't really keep up with the other students. So I decided to start small, with novels. Mother had quite a collection of English novels overflowing our bookshelves. Since there was a detective, I started with Sherlock Holmes, but after visting the scene of real crimes with Tsukumojuku it just seemed so tame and stiff, so I gave up. I then tried Charles Dickens, Oscar Wilde, and Emily Brontë, but it was H. G. Wells I fell in love with. The Time Machine, The Island of Dr. Moreau, War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man – all science fantasy, all terrific. They even made me like science. When Mum saw me reading a book on science she suggested we hire a tutor. She'd never really been one for forced study or early bedtimes, but she had a keen eye to when I might be open to such a suggestion, so I didn't feel moved turn her down. I had an idea who might be a good tutor; a girl Tsukumojuku and I had met on our last case, the one who'd helped us finally catch Javier Cortez. Her name was Penelope de la Roza. She had a pathological fear of clowns, so when Javier had haunted her dreams disguised as a clown and tried to convince her to commit a locked room murder, the blow to her system had been so extreme she'd quit school and never left the house. She was quite the beauty, and I thought maybe sharing some stories of good times with Tsukumojuku might help cheer her up a bit. But when I went to see her things didn't go so well. She barely gave me the time of day.

"Sorry, but seeing you makes me remember the clown in my

dreams, and I get scared." Whoops. Clearly, I'd been tactless. Now that she mentioned it while Javier had been after her Penelope had been in a state of panic, and was perpetually shivering, even in broad daylight.

"Oh. Sorry to just drop in like this, then. I didn't mean to upset you," I said, and turned to leave.

"I'm sorry too, Jorge," she said, from the other side of the door she refused to open.

"You came all this way. I can't stop myself thinking about the clown, but...I was glad to see you, and honestly, it's something of a relief to talk to someone like this." I was very glad to hear it. Also, even though nearly everyone I'd met solving cases was Spanish, they all pronounced Jorge 'George' – Tsukumojuku's parting gift. That thought made me sad, but there was a warmth to that sadness. I went home. But the next evening, Penelope came to see me, looking very upset.

"Jorge!" she yelled from outside. Surprised, I got out of bed. I glanced at the clock; it was 1:30 AM. For a moment I wondered if I'd dreamt it, but then she yelled again.

"Jorge Joestar!" I cracked the curtains, and Penelope was standing outside the front door.

"What is it, Penelope?"

"You've got to help! You've got to do something!"

"Do something about what? Calm down!"

"How can I? He's back! Javier Cortez is back! It's all your fault! Nothing happened until yesterday!" Javier? This made no sense. The islanders killed him and dumped his body in the sea.

"Okay, wait a second, I'll be right out." I left the window, went downstairs, and burst out the front door. Penelope was shivering in a sleeveless dress and a pair of sandals. She did not appear to be harmed. Just terrified; she collapsed into my arms as I approached. Her body was horrifyingly cold to the touch.