It's 6am on Monday morning....Mason wakes with a start. Her eyes open to an empty space on the twin sized mattress. She had grown used to sharing the small mattress with her lover. They used to sleep on their sides, spooning each other to fit on the bed. Now there was room for her to spread out and sleep comfortably, but she found herself still sleeping the same way, scrunched on half the bed. Change isn't instantaneous.
She lay in that position with her eyes open...listening to sounds of the street beneath her. Horns honking, large trucks with produce unloading, carts rolling. She heard a baby next door crying for a few moments. Her small studio was affordable for a reason. The thin walls and street sounds were a surround sound experience of life in SF. Dolby couldn't have done better. Actually she liked it. City noise was a pleasant distraction.
She dragged herself out of bed at 6:30 and readied herself for the day. Cold cereal, a bananna, and out the door in a hooded sweater and brown corduroy pants. She ran down the street....damn! she missed the 38 again. She really didn't want to be late again to her new job. It would be nice to not be fired this time. This job paid well, and offered flexibility for her school schedule...even if well...it was a bit morbid. She worked as an assistant for Crime Scene Cleaners, cleaning up the aftermath of suicides, murders and accidental deaths. Somebody has to do it. 20 bucks an hour to disinfect and remove blood stains from a wall wasn't a problem for her. She didn't really get squeamish.
She lay in that position with her eyes open...listening to sounds of the street beneath her. Horns honking, large trucks with produce unloading, carts rolling. She heard a baby next door crying for a few moments. Her small studio was affordable for a reason. The thin walls and street sounds were a surround sound experience of life in SF. Dolby couldn't have done better. Actually she liked it. City noise was a pleasant distraction.
She dragged herself out of bed at 6:30 and readied herself for the day. Cold cereal, a bananna, and out the door in a hooded sweater and brown corduroy pants. She ran down the street....damn! she missed the 38 again. She really didn't want to be late again to her new job. It would be nice to not be fired this time. This job paid well, and offered flexibility for her school schedule...even if well...it was a bit morbid. She worked as an assistant for Crime Scene Cleaners, cleaning up the aftermath of suicides, murders and accidental deaths. Somebody has to do it. 20 bucks an hour to disinfect and remove blood stains from a wall wasn't a problem for her. She didn't really get squeamish.
posted by:
|
-
Re: Mason's start in SF Crime Scene Cleaners,
Thu, May 19, 2005 - 10:35 AMoh please
i love the rest it sucked me in to the scene
-
Re: Mason's start in SF
Sun, May 22, 2005 - 11:48 AM
She walked into the diner with Bob. As they were seated, Bob did a quick eyebrow raise and flashed her a crooked half smile. He gregariously said he was going to buy lunch after all her hard work today. She glanced at him blankly for a moment..and forced a slight smile.
Bob, the assistant CSI, spotted her as he was examining the suicide note in the suburban apt complex. She stood off by the door, looking around the apt...waiting for the go ahead to start her cleanup. She noticed a framed newspaper clipping with a picture of a sandy haired boy...the headline read local student places second in national spelling championship. She saw photos and postcards of people in international places sitting in a shoebox by the couch.
At least this cleanup wasn't bad. He had been laying on the couch and had put the gun to his head. Most of the debris went into the couch, which was going to be disposed of. All she had to do was spot check the apt and wipe down the coffee table. Unless the coroner's people were sloppy with moving the body, this clean up was going to be fairly quick.
The waitress came up to ask for drink orders. Bob winked at her and asked for two coffees. "Thanks darlin' ." He looked back at Mason. "..so anyway...this guy was a total putz. Apparently, he had just gotten a postcard from a friend who was on a trip in Guadalajara. He was jealous or something, so the fucker shot himself! Can you believe that? He had a decent job working for the State, this hot chick he was dating and he just just lost it?!...blah blah" Mason watched him and nodded periodically...but she was somewhere else. She remembered walking though the apt after the go ahead from the CSIs. The framed photograph with a beautiful blonde woman, the reasonably well decorated bachelor pad, the sandy haired man in his 40s being wrapped up and taken away. For a few moments she had even noticed the postcard on the coffee table.
Finally in Guadalajara! Perry, don't worry man..
.we'll take a trip another time. Your job is important..
.sometimes i wish I had the stability you had!
She knew something about Perry which Bob didn't get. Bob wouldn't find it in any amount of searching with his very literal and hyper testosterone injected mind. Mason thought of a quote, "Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavors bring us closest to that fullness.[when i find that] my work becomes a conscious decision - a longed for bed which i enter gratefully and from which i rise empowered" -A.L.
Mason saw a man who seemed to allow himself to passively settle for a life he didn't want. Maybe it stung when he saw the the people he knew following through with their aspirations. and maybe the despair of mediocrity had polluted his life.
"So anyway! blah blah.." Bob said. Mason was agitated that this guy was so careless in his openness. He wasn't supposed to disclose information from an active investigation. She had mixed feelings..she didn't like feeling like she was invading and being privy to this information of a stranger. She wanted to figure out these people though. She would probably have lunch with Bob again.
