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war2|NOIR › Holliday: Saint Patrick’s Day
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/03/holliday-saint-patricks-day
Holliday: Saint Patrick’s Day. I parked the Olds across what was left of the street. She was long, low, and black as a tarbaby dancer. Every time I walked away from her in this kind of a neighborhood it reminded me of the last scene in. She was as pretty as any French woman I’d met, and easier to handle. The barkeep was a stocky Irishman with a white dress shirt and a green vest, and his hair parted down the middle and plastered to his head with pomade. His cheeks were flushed, his brow was damp, and...
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war2|NOIR › Holliday: Thanksgiving
http://noir.war2d2.com/2009/11/holliday-thanksgiving
It was football weather. Misting rain and overcast skies; the smell of smoldering leaves on the bitter late-autumn wind. I was heading to the North side, where the blood ran blue. I was South; down here our blood was red, and ran only to the gutter. Miss Holliday had been helpful once the money was out of the way. I have what I like to think of as a sliding scale. I think of a number, and if you don’t slide out the door, that’s the scale. She didn’t slide. Here to see Mr. Holliday, I said. He looked me o...
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war2|NOIR › Blog archives
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/04
Monthly Archives: April 2010. Sunday, April 4, 2010. With my eyes closed all I saw was stars, and when I opened them all I saw was a dull green haze. I could taste blood and bile and salt; my tongue was leather, and my lips were fat and numb. The world was spinning like a 45 RPM record, and someone had turned the volume all the way up. Cold, hard facts.
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war2|NOIR › Holliday: The Dog Days
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/08/holliday-the-dog-days
Holliday: The Dog Days. Charles Holliday’s wake was held at a bar on the North side. It had a big picture window in the front with “O’Rourke’s” in gilt script. The bar was solid, dark, and middleclass, with brass fixtures and dark wood, and light that was filtered through orange glass lampshades. I said a reflexive Hail Mary as I paid my respects, and crossed myself as I walked away. Hypocrisy leaves a bitter taste. I worked my way to the bar for a chaser. 8220;So what happens now? 8221; I asked. 8220;I ...
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war2|NOIR › Holliday: Christmas
http://noir.war2d2.com/2009/12/holliday-christmas
I was slowed by a throng of children who were entranced by the animated North Pole in one of the department store windows, and happened to glance in as I waded through the crowd. I recognized a figure worth recognizing, and golden locks that were hard to forget. I took a detour and went through the revolving door. It’d be easier to just buy the store and visit it when you get lonely. Less to carry home. I thought I’d stop by and see what the economy looks like after a pot of coffee and fistful of bennies.
noir.war2d2.com
war2|NOIR › Holliday: Easter Sunday
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/04/holliday-easter-sunday
I came to, three days later. With my eyes closed all I saw was stars, and when I opened them all I saw was a dull green haze. I could taste blood and bile and salt; my tongue was leather, and my lips were fat and numb. The world was spinning like a 45 RPM record, and someone had turned the volume all the way up. I heard a sound, through all the rush and static in my head. Gradually it came into focus, and sounded like an echo across a still pond. It was a woman’s voice. Stop trying to move. I didn’t like...
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war2|NOIR › Holliday: New Year
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/01/holliday-new-year
It was ten to midnight and the rain fell. It wasn’t the mist that floats like pixie motes in the alcoholic haze of the neon tubes. It wasn’t the soft summer rain that caresses your brow like a loving mother’s touch. It was cold and steady, and rained down like the blows from a daddy that didn’t love you now, and never would. The angry drops gathered and pooled at my feet, taunting me as I hid in the inky shadow of an eave, whispering to me with a thousand spitting voices. I picked my way carefully off th...
noir.war2d2.com
war2|NOIR › Blog archives
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/05
Monthly Archives: May 2010. Monday, May 31, 2010. I was in the office. It smelled close and dry, like my grandmother had been staying there while I was gone. I’d been two weeks in the hospital, and another week on bed rest. My eyes were both still black, and I had purple and green bruises over the rest of my face. I had […]. Cold, hard facts.
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war2|NOIR › Holliday: Father’s Day
http://noir.war2d2.com/2010/06/holliday-fathers-day
Holliday: Father’s Day. I rode shotgun, with Radvila behind me and Hackworth driving. He drove like he talked. He drove fast and methodical, he cut people off, he accelerated through the yellows and slowed down for the reds, and he never once came to a stop. I wasn’t under arrest. We were just old friends, going for a ride. I was busy watching Mika in the rearview. I didn’t believe Hackworth’s story about watching him pop a man’s head between his palms. I didn’t want to put it to the test. There’s ladies...
