Day 321 – The Salesman – Part 10

Word count: 618

“Bob, you betta get outta ma sight or you won’t know what’s hit you til’ morn, you ‘ere me?”
The woman was so large her cellulite was in orbit around her body. It took a second for Brian to realise what she was saying. From what he could decipher, she was threatening him. Brian look up at her, but could barely make out her face for the big bosom between.
“I’m sorry, what-what did you say?”
“I said get yo ass outta my neighbo’hood. We don’t need no weirdos!”
“Weirdos? Huh?”
And then he remembered he was stalking an old woman.
“Oh, no, I’m getting paid for this –” his argument just got worse.
He smiled awkwardly at her and turned the ignition on, driving off as soon as the car would let him.
After a few traffic lights he still wasn’t sure what would have happened to him if he’d stayed. She was a huge brute of a woman, probably good in a fight and he imagined some Hulk like creature spewing forth from her flesh and toppling over his car. Furthermore to this incident, he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to tell the old woman, Mrs Hinkerley.

“You failed me!” the wrath of the little frail woman was immense. She slammed the teacup down in front of him and failed to give him a biscuit.
“One thing, one thing! Fifty grand to watch her for a day and you can’t even do that!”
“I’m sorry! The woman threatened me, what was I supposed to do?”
“Find your testicles and use them! What did you find out?”
“Find out?”
“About the bitch, the evil bitch!”
“Oh erm, yeah. She is – well she doesn’t do very much. She did some shopping. She looked out the window. That’s about it.”
“God I hate her…What did she look like? Was she old like me?”
“Well, no, younger – didn’t you know how old she was?”
“Oh well I heard rumours… teenager was the worst that I heard, and I was inclined to believe that particular one owing to the fact that my husband could stoop very, very low at times. What else?”
“Er nothing, not much… they live in a flat… it’s not the nicest of places…”
“So I gather.”
“That’s about it…”
“Well if you think I’m going to pay you fifty grand for that you’ve got another thing coming. I want photographs. I want you to meet with her, speak with her. Befriend her.”
“But not kill her, right?”
“Well if you want to throw that in for an extra twenty-five?”
Brian gulped: this was mental. He was even tempted to take the offer.
“No, no, sorry that was a joke. I’m not going to kill anyone, this is just… “
“A service that you are offering to me.”
“Yes, that’s right. Are you sure I can’t get you to buy any of my company’s products though? My boss will start wondering why I’m always coming to this house…”
“Oh god no. I bought one thing from you lot years ago and it broke within a few days. But you’ve been hounding my door weekly ever since and I always take audience with you. Just for something to do though, you realise. I live quite a dull life. I can’t paint as much now the arthritis has set in.”
“So you thought hiring someone to kill your ex-husband’s lover might spice things up a bit?”
“Quite. More tea? I won’t slosh it all over the place this time. I’m quite calm now.”
“Go on, I’ll have another.”
“No biscuit yet. You don’t deserve one.”
This was a state of weirdness beyond anything Brian could ever have anticipated.

~ by S.G. Mark on August 23, 2012.