Missed last week because the internet was down. So this was last week's section. I'm going to have part nine up either Thursday or Friday of this week. enjoy. v
Part eight Edwin tried to steady himself with his afternoon cup of tea but it did no good. The day had effectively been ruined. All available personnel had been hard at work. Due to the bulk of the staff being sent home to prepare for night patrols it was, at best, a skeleton crew. Normally he would revel in the hard work of his staff, knowing they would complete any task assigned with efficiency and competency. Today, though they did their best, it was a long slow process. The bells were everywhere. Tiny little things individually tied to branches in a random pattern. There were no lines or even a discernible zig-zag pattern. Edwin pulled his staff from their patrols and other, more regular duties to search the foliage. The task seemed never ending. Every time they thought they had them all down, a wind would blow through and the ringing would begin again. The search would be resumed. It was madness, utter madness. Finally he could take no more. His men were disheveled and frustrated. Even though they could all still hear the ringing, they were having difficulty finding the remaining bells. For the sake of sanity Edwin called a halt to the search, sending everyone on a break before attending to whatever necessary tasks needed to be completed before the end of shift. “Tomorrow the search can resume,” he told himself as he told his men earlier. Edwin resisted looking down at his uniform. He knew it was soiled in spots, the starch no longer keeping the lines crisp. He was fairly certain there were even seat marks on the cloth as he put in as much time in the hot sun as his men had in the quest to remove the bells. It had been all hands on deck today and he had not shirked his duty. His skin itched for a shower and he decided that once his shift was over, he would take the shower and put on a new uniform before joining the evening patrols. Although it was a break in his routine, Edwin knew he could not remain as he was and would be forced to iron another shirt before his usual Sunday laundry. “It can’t be helped,” he told himself. It was yet another charge to lay at the feet of the unknown sculptor. Edwin finished his tea and cleaned up after himself, the routine tidying settling him down somewhat. As long as he ignored his grubby uniform, he would make it through the rest of the day. Edwin concentrated on the paperwork, filling out routine requests for supplies, checking his upcoming schedule of repairs and upgrades. Seeing the order of his world calmed him. By the end of shift, he felt steady in his own skin again. As long as he didn’t look at his uniform. Edwin prepared his office for the close of the day. He sharpened, measured and arranged his pencils, stood and walked to the east blinds. He looked through the window; all was as it should be. He moved to the west window and looked out. Shock momentarily froze him in place. Instead of his three cone shapes evergreens, he now saw three green, leafy flamingos. “A daylight assault,” he gasped out. Something in his chest tightened and he realized he wasn’t breathing. He sucked in a lung full of air and his chest loosened. “Daylight,” he repeated. Edwin’s hands shook as he closed the blinds, moved to the door and exited his office. After locking his door he moved to the sight of the latest defilement. Slowly he circled the flamingos. While they were carved with the same artistry as the elephants and rabbits, the ground was littered with clippings. “He didn’t have time to clean up after himself,” Edwin surmised. “But how did he have time to do this at all? Surely someone would have heard something.” Edwin blinked as a thought hit him. “The bells,” he said softly. Today was the day he measured the hedgerows. Today he found bells in the first of those hedgerows. “And I called all available personnel to the site to search them out. I even pitched in. I played right into their hands.” Stunned, Edwin circled the flamingos. Someone had studied him, knew his routine and could predict his likely reactions. He supposed that as a man of routine, a man of order, his set schedule was noticeable. But who had done the noticing. It had to be someone who knew him. “Which means it is someone I know,” Edwin surmised. “Or have at least seen in passing.” Edwin left the flamingos behind and headed back to his quarters for his promised shower and fresh clothes. As he walked he mentally reviewed those he routinely saw, examining them and dismissing each as unlikely. He reached home, showered, dressed and ate his dinner. “Perhaps it is someone I don’t see every day or who I don’t pay attention to,” he thought as he headed back to brief the night patrol before walking the grounds. Edwin thought of the various suppliers who came onto the grounds to deliver goods, both for him and Dr. Vargas. None of them fit the bill. After apprising his staff of the addition of the flamingos and exhorting them to be diligent, Edwin began to walk the grounds, his mind turning over the images of the people he had seen on the estate, both familiar and strange, determined to find the one who fit, knowing that was the culprit he sought.
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Valerie GaumontJust the record of the random flotsam and jetsam of an insomniac writer's mind Archives
March 2021
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