A Writer's Tale Ch.3

A Writer's Tale
Annemarie Smith has traded London for South Bronx. As a professional writer, she needs to submit new work every now and then too maintain her income. Out of the blue she experiences the nightmare of any novellist; a writer's block. Too keep the inspiration and money flowing she takes a side-job at a certain bar. Then everything spiralls out of control after a brutal murder that seems to center around her more than she likes to.

Rated T for violence, language and possible minor adult situations. Rating may go up!

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Chapter 03: Two worlds

“In.. shock.. where..?”

“Mundy.. can’t..!”

“I promise.. tell nothing..”

A groan escaped Ann’s lips. Her head felt like it had been split right open and her throat felt like thousands of little needles stabbed its insides. She felt sore all over, and despite her screaming muscles’ she had the instinctive urge to get up and running as soon as possible. The moment she had raised herself only a little, a hand was gently pressed against her shoulder and pushed her down.

“Don’t get up too quickly. Your head must be swimming right now.”

Ann forced her eyes to open and automatically found the azure ones of the woman sitting next to her. Slow and steady she moved, under the watchful gaze of the woman, and eventually sat upright. She took a deep breath, forcing down the nausea.

“There, welcome back to the land of the living honey. Drink. Easy though, your throat must be a mess..”

A glass of cold water was pressed in her hands. Without question Ann drunk it, almost choking on it but with sheer determination she emptied the glass. The woman sitting next to her was clearly middle-aged with some wrinkles on her pretty face. She seemed to be the kind of person where beauty apparently came with age. Her hair was a silvery white, her eyes and make up a bright azure, but oddly complementing each other. She was skinny, slightly tanned and Ann’s eyes could briefly spot the purple colourings of a tattoo across her chest.

“T-thank you.” God, her voice sounded horrible. Ann scraped her sore throat gently for it hurt like hell and reached up to touch the bruised skin.

“No problem. How are you feeling?”

Ann threw her legs on the edge of the couch she had been laying on and shifted her seat whilst she let her bare toes gently touch the wine-coloured carpet. It was soft and warm. Her coat and scarf were gone and the first top buttons of her blouse were loose to expose her neck.. which felt horrible. Her green eyes quickly gazed around the small, dimly lit room she was in. She didn’t recognize it.

“Sore.. tired.. Like my head has been chopped off, played footba- soccer with and then reattached. Where am I actually?” (Ann had to remind herself that this was America and not England, where the term football meant a different kind of sport here in the US than back home.)

The woman laughed, her voice a bit raspy like that of an aged woman but with strength that most elders seemed to lack. Ann could tell she was youthful for her age, it showed in her eyes and her laugh.

“That’s a good way to put it, sweetie. You are at my house, above the Trip Trap Bar that I happen to own. Name’s Holly.”

Ann shook the outstretched hand, ignore the strange tingle that seemed to come from her. It made the hairs on her neck stand on end. “Nice to meet you Holly. I’m Annemarie Smith. How.. how did I get here? I remember..” She paused, sucking in her breath when the memories of recent events flashed before her eyes.

“I remember in an alley. Someone saved me, a man. After that it’s all just a blur. I was on my way to your bar..”

Holly looked at her with some strange emotion flickering in her azure eyes. A gentle smile tucked at her dark red lips. “Yeah, someone brought you here barely conscious and in shock. After a while you relaxed and went to sleep, giving us the time to look at that neck of yours, but nothing was seriously damaged though I would be wearing that scarf for a while if I were you.”

“How long-?”

“About 16 hours. It’s about 5 pm right now.”

“I see.”

“Who-?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you. He doesn’t want to be known around Mun- town.”

An uncomfortable pause lingered between the two women. With a sigh Ann stood up, albeit a bit wobbly on her feet and wanted to thank Holly for her kindness, who had also stood and gazed at her.

“Look, I-”

“Want to stay over for dinner?”

The abruptness of Holly took Ann a bit back. But when she saw the worry and concern flickering in the elder woman, combined with a small smile. Ann quickly recovered and returned the upward tuck of the lips. She nodded.

“Yeah, I would love to.”

The dinner was delicious despite the effort it took to actually swallow. It appeared that Holly has been living here on her own for quite a while with no husband insight and an exceptional sorceress with food. She was married to her bar as she liked to say, and to the regulars. Ann had explained that she was looking for a job and that it was the reason why she was heading for Trip Trap in the first place.

Unfortunately, Holly didn’t have the money nor need for an employer but wrote down an address to a place who could ‘use an extra pair of hands’. She didn’t mention any names nor the name of the bar. She merely said ‘you will know who to ask the moment you walk inside’. A strange and vague advice. If would have come from Toad, Ann would have to decline, but Holly seemed genuine and the type that had some good connections.

“Thank you, Holly, for the delicious dinner and the kindness you have bestowed upon me.”

Holly released Ann from her embrace and patted her shoulder. “You British and your over-polite words..” She drawled and handed the redhead her coat and brightly coloured scarf, along with her shoes (Ann didn’t bother to ask where she’d got them). She would need the scarf to hide the deep purple bruises around her neck for quite some time. “But thank you for being the perfect guest. I wish you luck with your novel.. and don’t hesitate to come visiting every now and then. I have stories that would make your ears blush..”

“I will! You have given me both food for stomach and thought. Good bye,”

When Ann stepped outside into the cold outside world, she turned around giving her hostess a  last genuine grin. Holly grinned back, but a bit timidly. That moment Ann could see an unknown storm brewing behind those azure eyes. With a quick wave of her hand she was gone, mingled with the faceless crowd that passed Holly’s door. Everyone heading somewhere. Everyone with a purpose.

Slowly Holly closed the door of her bar and sighed, her eyes meeting the hazel ones of the lone guest that sat at her bar. It was dangerous to help a Mundy, everyone here in Fabletown knew it, but they were also living things with feelings and a life. So how could the kind bartender say no when the sheriff practically dropped the woman on her very doorstep.

Even though Holly was furious of Bigby abandoning her and the girl to do his ‘duties’, she was also mildly surprised that he had even bothered to help her. It must have involved some Fables.. and he probably could not have abandoned her there in that alley.

But at what cost?

Meanwhile, Ann almost reached the Tenement Building. She had walked in a rather hasty pace with her eyes casted down to her feet, looking over her shoulder every once in a while with the paranoid feeling of being pursued. Which was silly of course.

When she opened the door of her building, she quickly stepped aside letting a woman pass through the open door. She had bright green eyes, almost matching her own and short black hair. The woman’s eyes glanced in her direction, the corner of her pink lips curling upwards.

“Thanks!” She cheerily said and waved before turning on her heels and walked away with haste. Her strides short, but fast in the tight miniskirt. The streetlights illuminating her way.

“No probs,” Ann whispered almost inaudible and entered the building. When she pushed the shopping cart away from her door, her ears caught a soft knocking sound coming from Toad’s front door. Was he knocking on his own door?  

“Ann? Are you there?” The familiar voice of Mr. Toad called from behind the green wood. It was uncharacteristically meek.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, Mr. Toad.”

He must have heard the rawness of her voice for the doorknob twitched but then stopped. Something must have withheld Toad from opening the door and looking at her whilst they conversed. He scraped his throat a bit and seemed to lean against the door for his voice now sounded much clearer.

“I’m.. sorry.. about what happened. I should have written it down for you or something or have given clearer directions or-”

“There was nothing wrong about your directions Mr. Toad. I was just merely confused, not paying attention, and.. I’m alive. That is what’s most important right? Don’t beat yourself up over it. Good night,” Ann called to him and entered her own apartment, tired of talking and being constantly reminded of the previous night. It was done, over and she was alive. Due to whom? She had no idea and probably never will.

After a nice hot shower, she sat in her PJ’s in front of the television. Unknown to her, her little live would take a hundred-and-eighty degrees turn tomorrow. But for now CNN banish her thoughts and let her care for the outside world, forgetting her own personal demons for just a short while.

Ignorance is bliss, right?