Broken Sky

by Saurav Dutt

  He patted her shoulder and studied the haggard lines that had wrapped around her pale face as her expression collapsed. ‘Then why do you still have her cases and her hat?’ Pollard piped up. Fisher stared down at him dismissively ‘They’re behind the desk’ he replied as he turned to leave ‘your friend left them here, I didn’t steal anything’ he added as he glanced up at her ‘now you’re lucky I don’t call the cops about that hat. I don’t know what sorta crap you two get up to but I don’t want any part of it….I don’t wanna see the pair of you outside my hotel again-you’re trash and you’re ruining the reputation of the place’ he hissed.

  Without batting an eyelid she yanked the bottle from her pocket and held it right up to Fisher’s face and pushed down on the button of the canister as firmly as she could. A stream of orange mist spat and spewed out a swathe of orange particles across the skin of his face. He staggered back as he raised his hands in front of him. Staring down at his palms, Fisher saw they were now stained a bright orange. He blinked in bewilderment and his heart thundered as he realised the collars of his crisp blue shirt and the lapel of his light grey suit were also stained with the distinct bright hue of orange graffiti spray. As his eyes burned in fury Pollard could not help but burst out into laughter. She stood there nonchalantly, still gripping the bottle within her hands, a look of utter contempt across her face.

  ‘What is it?’ Fisher gasped as she rubbed his fingers frantically across his cheeks and forehead ‘What did you just put in there..is it something…something..chemical?’ he spluttered. ‘Nah’ Pollard quipped ‘just some ordinary hair spray paint...but you sure look like you need a stupid ass clown suit to go with your big ass orange head’ he giggled.

  ‘Glenn…’ Fisher gasped as he felt his face, smearing his hands all over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose ‘Glenn..get your ass over here now!’ he bellowed. The sound of Glenn’s feet bounced off the hollow walls of the hotel foyer as Fisher stumbled punch drunk into his approaching arms. ‘Call the police…what the hell is it? What’s on my face?!’ he barked as his hands flailed in the air. Glenn gripped them tightly as a look of utter bewilderment crept over him. Fisher’s face was a bright orange hue, graffiti spray distinctly splashed all over so that it covered his large forehead and his bulldog cheeks. Even the curling layers of his long hair were dripping with the substance and were an oily dark orange, made all the more obvious under the ceiling lights. ‘We better get out of here..’ Pollard gulped as he motioned to leave, but she would not move. Instead she cautiously approached Fisher again, holding the bottle menacingly above her head as she rattled it forcefully.

  ‘People like you make me sick…you’re like those assholes out there who smile at me and pretend they got no change…except I can hear the quarters and dimes rattling in the pockets of their Park Avenue pants!’ she spat.

  ‘Glenn…’ Fisher begged as he cowered behind him ‘call the cops..what the hell are you still doing here…call the freakin’ cops, arrest this crazy bitch’

  Glenn nodded as he whipped his head around and turned to leave. By now mumbles and gasps of passers by in the foyer littered the air as they congregated around the confusion. The sharp pattering of a bellboy’s shoes rattled across the glassy surface of mosaic floor. ‘You hold it right there buster’ she exclaimed as she swung around, twirling her wrist and the canister within her grasp as if it was a Swiss blade army knife ‘one more move and I’ll have you glowing in the dark too’ she grinned.

  This was Fisher’s chance. His skinny arms and sweaty hands twirled in the air as they struggled to grab the canister from her and pin down her arms. The pair of them tangled and she grit her teeth, sending an elbow straight into his gut. He swallowed hard but did not relinquish his grip. She managed to squeeze down on the head of the canister as infinitesimal squirts of orange peppered her hair and the cuffs of his crumpled suit.

  “You….just…can’t…let…it…go you stupid broad’ Fisher snarled as he struggled to wrestle the bottle away from her, leaning the entire weight of his body against hers to push her aside. She was as solid as a fire hydrant and despite his attempts she managed to wrangle herself away from him and sent an angry flailing kick towards his shin. Fisher stumbled back as the pain fizzed through his leg and his posterior landed firmly on the cold, hard slab of the mosaic layered ground of the foyer. She stood above him panting as she tried to regain her breath. Her ears rang as she noticed the alarmed faces around her gawking as if she was wielding a hand grenade. Her hair was now frizzy, starched with orange and she looked down and noticed the collar of her dark brown jacket was torn. ‘Let’s get going’ Pollard gulped ‘we better make a break for it..’ he added with a whimper, his large ears picking up the wail of approaching police sirens outside. ‘I’m not done with this pile of garbage..’ she panted as she stared down at Fisher, watching his pathetic emaciated figure cower as she leered at him.

  Just then a cold flush of morning air swept into the foyer as the revolving doors swung open. Two police officers scurried in, their winged tip shoes clattering across the foyer as they charged towards her. She swung herself around to confront them but neither flinched as they swamped her without hesitation. The taller of the two snatched the bottle from her hand with ease whilst simultaneously pinning her right arm behind her back. The stockier officer stood in front of her, submerging her petite figure with his wide frame as his feet firmly pressed down on hers. The canister clattered to the floor and she felt the cold, hard grip of handcuffs press down upon the skin of her wrists. She recognised the officer in front of her. His stoic, colourless face was unmistakable. ‘Hey Markie..’ she groaned ‘how’s it goin’ today..’ she sighed. ‘I see your New Years resolution went outta the window then..’ he replied ‘what is it with you and getting yourself in shit’. ‘I guess I struck out on that one..’ she sighed as she was pushed forward, the officer behind her ensuring he clung onto her arm. ‘Your new boyfriend likes it rough I see..’ she remarked as she tried to force herself back into the arresting officer. ‘He’s young, full of enthusiasm..’ Mike sighed as he led them through the doors ‘you don’t know him…but he knows all about you’

  *

  The amber glow of the tube light fell across her face as she sat within the police precinct cell, her arms folded as she stared sullenly at the ground, ignoring the mumbles, moans and cackles of the others in the drunk tank.

  ‘She looks like your regular hobo to me..’ Officer Parker chuckled as he took a small sip of coffee from a polystyrene cup, watching her carefully from his desk. ‘She’s actually pretty perceptive’ Mike grinned as he looked down at the spray paint bottle he had confiscated from her earlier.

  ‘Well let’s get down to processing her and be done with it, you know I hate the paperwork’ Parker sighed as he stifled a yawn. ‘You don’t know paperwork, man’ Mike scoffed ‘a year on the job and you’re moaning about the freakin’ paperwork-try five years pal, especially something like this-takes up a whole lotta time and she’ll be out doing it again anyway in about three hours’ he added.

  ‘Bullshit, the hotel manager’s pressing charges’ Parker yawned ‘he’s been scrubbing his face with about six different bars of soap and that crap still ain’t comin’ off his face’ he grinned. ‘Yeah well she’s an unusual one…’ Mike frowned as he motioned for Parker to follow him into the adjoining office. ‘She looks like every other bum on the street, what’s so unusual about that?’ Parker grunted as he made his way down a dimly lit corridor. ‘Notice anything particularly unusual about her, about the way she is, her looks..’ Mike enquired as he slumped down into his chair and began shuffling through the papers on his desk.

  ‘Well…’ Parker coughed as he took a moment to think through his response ‘besides the greasy hair, the bad skin, the tatty clothes and everything…she’s kinda well…she’s actually kinda hot for an older woman’ he smiled. ‘Exactly’ Mike replied ‘and what else?’ he queried. ‘Well…’ Parker thought to himself ‘she don’t stink
like the other winos’

  ‘Uh huh’ Mike sighed as he pulled out his desk drawer to look for a pen that actually worked ‘that’s it-you’ll also notice the coat is mink, the suitcases locked up in evidence are worn out but expensive Samsonites. Her high heels are freakin’ Gucci. That necklace she’s got on is genuine pearl. She wears a blue sapphire ring-and it ain’t no knock off…I arrested her once just before Christmas and she had Versace sunglasses..her fingers were perfectly manicured..’ he grinned as he noticed Parker’s stunned reaction.

  ‘Well that means nothing..’ Parker shot back as he began jotting down notes ‘it means she’s a hustler, a con woman..probably screwed a lot of people to get a lot of favours, y’know the type’

  ‘Nah that doesn’t wash with me..’ Mike shook his head ‘a woman who looks like that, who can hustle anybody that good..is usually kept after..she don’t knock about on the streets in a shitty winter in Manhattan for months on end-there’s something suspicious about her I can tell you that much’

  ‘Aw come on’ Parker scoffed ‘she’s clever-she’s got all that shit on ‘cause she knows she can get that crap sold at a good price on the street..and anyway, you’ve been on the job longer and you can’t even see that she probably jacked all that stuff along with that midget buddy of hers’

  ‘Pollard?’ Mike snorted ‘that little runt couldn’t steal daylight from the sky…she might be a lot of things, but she ain’t no thief..’ he trailed off.

  ‘I’ll tell you something she ain’t either..’ Parker sighed as he furrowed his brow ‘..on our records..I can’t find a damn thing about her’ he exclaimed as he slapped the monitor of his computer in frustration.

  ‘And you won’t..’ Mike smiled as he plunged his hand into a box of biscuits balancing on the edge of the desk ‘believe me we’ve all tried..over the last five months I can’t count the total number of charges for affray, traffic citations, disturbing the peace, loitering..you name it..she’s been booked on all of ‘em. We process her, and she’s got no name, no last known address, no social security…she hasn’t gone on welfare, never worked, no known relatives..it’s like she dropped outta the freakin’ sky..and another thing, the charges always, always get dropped…’ he sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

  ‘Bullshit’ Parker snapped ‘if she’s been booked she has to serve some time, somebody must know something about her, FBI, Homeland Security..nobody has a track record like that, like some kind of ghost’ he scoffed. ‘That’s the other thing’ Mike yawned ‘nobody pulls her up on these charges. The charges are eventually dropped and she’s outta here like a cool breeze…she’s been here so long everybody knows her. We’ve given her our own name’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Parker shook his head ‘what is it?’

  ‘Linda’

  ‘Linda? Why Linda?’

  ‘Well the Lt. thinks she sorta looks like Linda Lovelace’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Before your time buddy…’

  A short, balding man with a protruding belly slowly approached them from the adjacent office. His palms were clasped firmly around a knee cap sized donut. He stopped in his tracks and chomped down on it as Parker and Mike waited for him to finish. ‘Robert, what is it?’ Parker demanded as he watched the gristles of flour and pink icing trickle out of his gaping mouth. ‘That guy…the hotel manager..’ Robert grumbled ‘we tried to clean him up best we could…you can take his statement now’ he added motioning his head towards the sight of an uncomfortable Fisher making his way to the table in their office. There were still dabs of orange paint on his large forehead and his crisp shirt was still stained with the colour. Parker and Mike stifled a chuckle as Fisher crashed down onto a chair opposite them and buried his head in his hands.

  ‘Please tell me you’re gonna lock that bitch up’ he protested ‘no lawyer’s getting her out of this, she made an absolute fool of me in front of everybody, my staff, the visitors’ he snapped. ‘The lady has waived her right to an attorney..of course she ain’t got one of her own, but she refused the offer of one provided to her’ Parker replied as he cut loose a blank white sheet of paper from a nearby note pad.

  ‘I don’t care, we have to lock her up-she’s a menace’ Fisher whined as he rubbed his palm against his shirt.

  ‘Y’know rubbing it like that will only make that worse’ Mike offered ‘when you’re out of here, best to get down to a Laundromat and have them give your stuff a good clean’ he added as Parker fought back a guffaw.

  ‘This is funny to you..’ Fisher growled ‘that orange stuff could have been anything, it could have been some biological chemical, some blinding spray or something..if my hair starts falling out next week and I get some kinda cancer, I’ll sue this entire department and both of you will be wearing your smiles on your asses once your badges get confiscated’ he panted.

  ‘Please sir’ Parker sighed ‘let’s start at the beginning-now how exactly do you know this woman?’

  ‘Look it’s a simple thing’ Fisher leant back in his chair ‘we slept together, okay? The night before..and she thought we had some kind of relationship because of it..but we didn’t..I mean she’s a bum…a hobo. But..but she went crazy after that..after I told her to leave..completely cuckoo..turns up in the foyer the next morning with a bug up her ass and I asked her calmly to leave and…and…she attacks me..she almost blinded me. She’s a menace. I want her locked up. She’s been polluting the streets outside my hotel, ruining business…’ he sighed as he stared off into the distance.

  ‘Well why haven’t you reported her until now?’ Parker asked as he casually inserted a stick of gum in his mouth, his fingers gently clicking away at the computer keyboard in front of him. Fisher ignored the question as he fumbled in his pockets and yanked out a crumpled cigarette. ‘No smoking in here sir…’ Mark piped up as he pointed at the offending item.

  Fisher shook his head and stuffed the cigarette pack into his pockets as Mike whirled around the monitor of his computer so that both Parker and Fisher could see it. Fisher’s lips parted in astonishment ‘That’s her?’ he gasped in disbelief.

  The dark blond hair was magnificently sculpted, falling just below her shoulders with magnificent eyebrows arching over her luscious large, hazel eyes and a beauty spot just above her bottom lip.

  ‘I remember when we took this shot just before Christmas’ Mike reminisced ‘she was a real charmer. She came swaying in with that same mink coat, sparkling jewellery, and perfume and with these amazing legs. She had these fancy cigarettes, a chrome Zippo lighter and she spoke well…she wasn’t stinking of booze or whatever..she was brought in on having been driving around in a stolen car and we got her up on two hundred unpaid parking tickets-some of them out of state. She paid in cash and was about to leave when we realised she had been wanted for shoplifting too-can you believe that? It takes all kinds’

  ‘How does she keep getting outta here? Why isn’t she locked up?’ Fisher demanded as he studied the strong jaw line and intelligent features of the woman on the screen before him. ‘Someone always bails her out, gets a good lawyer..if she’s not your typical bum then she’s doing a good job of making everybody believe she is one’ Mike chuckled.

  ‘Have you checked her hat?’ Fisher snapped as he brought his face closer to the screen. ‘Why?’ Parker shot back as he continued making notes. ‘Well…’ Fisher gulped ‘there was blood on the inside rim..I thought you people would recognise things like that’

  Parker and Mike dropped their pens and looked at one another for a moment, then at the illuminated face on the screen before them. ‘It’s with the suitcases. I know it was blood, I’m no fool, I know blood when I see it’ Fisher protested.

  * *

  She stared at the fly circling the lamp light high above and the damp walls around her. As she sat by the desk, she scribbled incessantly on a pad of paper as Officer Parker sat opposite her with his hands slightly folded. He did not avert his gaze from her face, trying to reconcile the dishevelled woman before him with the
glamorous mug shot he had been staring less than an hour ago. He noticed her wrinkly hands, the chipped nails and the faded tattoo snaking down her wrist.

  ‘I can see you looking at me’ she sighed ‘I really dislike being stared at’ she added with a grunt as she let the pencil drop from her fingers, the clattering of the steel handcuffs slamming down on the table surface as she did so.

  ‘Tell me, where did you learn to read and write?’ Parker replied as he tried to glance at what she had written down. ‘How do you know I can?’ she shot back as she began drawing what looked like hexagonal shapes all over the few sentences she had just written. ‘I don’t’ Parker grumbled ‘and why don’t you want a lawyer?’

  ‘I know the state would give me a shitty one, that’s why’ she remarked, looking up at him with a wry smile. Her eyes beamed with a fierce resilience as he met her gaze. He wanted to look away but forced himself to stare right through her.

  ‘That’s not true. Where did you learn that?’ Parker smiled. She stared at him, studying his lips carefully as she leant back. ‘You’re new here ain’t ya?’ she winked. ‘What gives you that impression?’ Parker cleared his throat. ‘It’s obvious’ she sighed ‘I’ve been here many times and it’s obvious to spot the newbies from the seasoned pros…you got a virginal look about you, I can tell that much’ she added.

  Before Parker could answer, the door to the interview room crept open and Mike sauntered in clutching an A4 sized manila envelope. ‘Why are you starting the interview without me?’ he snapped as Parker refused to break his staring contest with her. ‘I wasn’t interviewing..we were just talking’ Parker offered feebly as she let slip a smile as Mike took his seat.

  ‘Y’know the lawyers the state provides are more than adequate for representation’ Mike stated as he slid the envelope over the desk and waited for her to respond. ‘It doesn’t matter’ came the glib response as she ignored the item ‘I’m usually outta here faster than a hiccup anyway, someone always sorts out my bail’ she shrugged.