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 Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 9:39 pm
{ i. d i s c o v e r y . a t . d a w n }
little town, it's a quiet village Being a creature of the night made getting up in the mornings much more difficult than it needed to be. For some, copious amounts of caffeine did the trick. For others, a warm shower worked. For Jack Calico, there was no cure but sleep. But, seeing as his skull-and-crossbones alarm clock was being relentless as usual, it looked like he was getting up.
The strawberry-blond man stretched, blue sheets cascading off of him like waves. He closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face as he remembered his dream. Waves had been crashing all around him as he bravely commanded his crew and fought off pursuing navies. He sighed. If only.
Jack showered, changed into a nice shirt and slacks, and glared at the coffee machine as it slowly dripped itself down into the pot. His work was nowhere near as exciting as his dreams, to say the least. While at night he could fight officers and score some serious treasure, by day Jonathan Calico worked at a pharmacy and filled prescriptions, usually for little old ladies, who, on more than one occasion, had made cameo appearances as sailors or hardened sea dogs in his dreams. Jack was always a little weirded out when he saw them the next day and they weren't brandishing cutlasses, but instead buying cough drops.
Eyes still threatening to slide shut, he sipped his coffee, putting the morning's fantasies aside. He began to recall the events of the night before. He'd made some good deals, and it looked like an independent clothing store was courting him about selling some of his designs in it. He'd make a note to stop by after work and see what the place was like. Jack didn't want to be picky, but sometimes you just had to. Like that time the "exotic" outfitter had tried to mix-and-match his stuff with some of their own ...merchandise.
He grimaced at the memory and drained his cup. Honestly, it wasn't like his designs were that bad. For the time being, though, he had a feeling that he'd keep the selling operation going from his house.
Yawning still, he plopped his shoulder bag on the table and made sure that everything he needed for work was present. Safety goggles, check. Lab book, check. Extra pens because Levi always "borrowed" some, check. Toast--
He grabbed a slice as it popped up from the toaster and put it in his mouth.
Check.
On a normal day, Jack would have taken the elevator from the 5th floor to get to the lobby, then walked a block to the elevated train station to catch his ride into work. He would have paid the boy in the pageboy cap at the corner a crisp dollar bill for the newest edition of the Tribune and he'd have flicked to the culture section to check out the new movies while the tram sped him off across his gleaming city.
However, none of that happened today. Jack did not buy the paper, nor did he enjoy a speedy trip into work, and nor did he even get to the elevator. To be precise, he did not even get a chance to leave his room.
At his feet, placed delicately on his doormat, was a small, brown-packaged sphere that looked like it could have been shipped via UPS, if UPS took remarkably circular objects.
Jack stared at it for a moment, shut his door, locked it, then unlocked it and opened it again.
The package continued to sit on his doorstep.
Well, huh. He spaded his hands in his pockets, staring at the thing. He'd hand-picked his residents to be quiet, more respectable folks looking for a good place to rest and relax--somehow, the idea of one of them suddenly playing practical jokes on their landlord seemed unlikely.
It was then he noticed the small envelope with his name on it next to the yellow ball.
“Good day dear lucky Sir or Madam, or Sir and Madam!
I am here to grant you life, please take care not to disturb the sleeping sound within this orb.
It will be relying on you from now on.
Take care!
Rethe Phonne”
Jack frowned and bit his lip. Crap.
He'd read in the paper about some weird happenings all over the country with this guy. Gingerly picking up the package and carrying it back inside, Jack couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Rethe Phonne was...well, who knew? Some guy? A super-secret organization? The only thing that people really seemed to know was well, that things like this had been known to happen to some poor saps.
Jack Calico suddenly felt like a very poor sap. He sunk to the floor of his small kitchen, and pressed his forehead against his cabinet. This wasn't very fair. He'd barely had any time to enjoy the bachelor life, what with his work and then his night work, and managing an apartment complex was no great help for romance.
He sighed. Having to bear responsibility without even getting the chance to be irresponsible yet...the world was a cruel place.
Standing back up, he unwrapped the small bundle, revealing a golden orb with swirls of blue. He took a deep breath. It wasn't like he could just leave it...who knew what kind of weird stuff was going to make noise in his hallway? People had been known to knock on his door, call his phone all the time when the day-manager was out or scream through the crack by the floor when the night guy got sick.
"Not ta worry," Jack gruffed to the orb, "Calico Jack'll find yeh some satisfactory lodgings."
His bedroom was probably the best bet for quiet. It was near a window, but it was farthest from the door and if he disconnected the phone in there, it would be perfect.
He gently clicked the door shut, fresh piece of toast clamped between his teeth (for the previous slice had long since been devoured), and a hour later, took the stairs down five flights because the elevator was out of order.
Coincidence? Almost definitely. But Jack was in a perturbed enough mood to blame everything on one man today and that one man wasn't getting off easily. First delaying him with a swirling orb that promised to come to life, next breaking his elevator and further delaying him from his job while he called a repairman--that Rethe Phonne had a hell of a lot to answer for.
But, by the time Jack finally caught the noon train, one thought terrified him. It wasn't that his boss would have some choice words for him, or that the elevator repair would take a chunk out of his emergency money (which they both would). Not even rearing a child could entice such cold terror in him as this one thought did.
What would his mother say?
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Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 7:43 pm
{ ii. w o r s t . f e a r s }
every day like the day before "But, Mom!" Jack wailed, as his cell phone speaker burst into a violent crackle of wrath. "I haven't been goofing around with anyone! This just ...happened!"
"Oh? Responded the angry voice on the other end, "And how do you think unwanted pregnancies occur, Jonathan Calico? One might say that they also 'just happen!' I can't believe you--"
Jack cringed.
He'd known that he was going to have to face his mother at some time or another. Contrary to what current circumstances looked like, he was really close to his mother, much more so than he was to his father, and he really disliked hiding things from her. Plus, he had no idea how to take care of a baby, so she was the only person he could turn to.
"Mom, I know it looks like this, but believe me. This guy, Rethe Phonne left this--"
The yelling abruptly halted. "What was that?"
Jack took a deep breath. "I mean, it was just left on my doorstep. Maybe some other resident found it on theirs, decided they didn't want it, and then dumped it on mine. I mean it's possible--"
"Jack."
Jack sat up a little straighter, as though on reflex.
"Yeah?" He responded.
"You said the sender's name was 'Rethe Phonne?'"
"Yeah, that guy who drops children on people, right? I figured it was an urban myth..."
Jack could almost hear his mother roll her eyes over the phone. He took out a cup and saucer and began to make tea for himself. He wondered what was coming next.
"You know about him, don't you? You've looked him up online, right? So you know that this stuff has been happening all over the place."
Jack bit his lip and poured water into the kettle. "Well, I mean, a little bit. I knew that this was his trademark, leaving the note and all that...
A sigh ruffled across the speaker. "You've not even looked him up? Seen who else this has happened to?"
Jack's silence was evident. The kettle shook slightly.
"Well," his mother responded, "I suggest you do."
And with that, she hung up. Jack made tea, sipping it gently, and brought his laptop over from his bedroom to the kitchen area, passing the orb on his way out. He caught a few lines from the song contained within while doing this and it made him feel more productive, more like he had to get going and get things moving.
It was after an hour of searching and perusing various sites that he finally came up with an answer.
He opened a document on his computer, encrypted it, and then began to type.
Misty Moor/C:/User/Calico Jack/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/A_Storm_Approaches.doc
Aw Hell.
Well, it looks like the great Calico Jack might have met his match. I've survived so many things, but parenthood? Are you kidding me, Rethe Phone?!
Crap, crap, crap. I was hoping that Mom would be so happy about this that she'd offer to take the kid off of me. Yeah, yeah, so I'm not perfect. Damn it, I like my life the way it is! My business is kickass, I've got (most of) my family issues under control--I'm totally ready to go out there and start living life the way I should!
But, no dice. Mom was pretty mad at me for not researching this baby-giver guy enough. Turns out (after copious searching by yours truly) that no one really knows what this guy is. All I've found is some Facebook group, a few weird sites (Rethe Phonne secretly linked to mysterious appearances of the Yeti? Probably not), and then a cult page for him, with fans posting pictures of orbs or children they've sighted. Most of them look fake. The Facebook thing seems...well, I don't know. Maybe legit? Maybe not. I'm not acting until I have more information.
The orb seems to be doing well, speaking of it. Can an orb not be doing well? I hope not. Hell if I know any orb doctors in the vicinity.
Guess I need to poke around a little more. Calico Jack's no man to skirt responsibility when he finds that he must accept it. Arr. Time to hunt up...baby supplies?
Aw, man, tell me I'm not going to have to change diapers. TELL ME THESE THINGS COME POTTY-TRAINED, OH PLEASE, PLEASE LET THAT BE SO.
Better get diapers just in case.
Crap.
I'll make a list and go to Ikea. I've always really wanted to go in there, but since buying stuff for my apartment, I've never made my way back. Buying kid's stuff should be fun. And hey, I can even pick up a chocolate bars and relax, try not to freak out about. I mean, hey, Calico Jack has been through worse. Much worse. A kid, ha! I can totally handle a kid! I mean, this means that I've got an excuse to work part-time now at the apothecary--score!
Hey, this thing might be kinda fun now that I think about it.
The song sounds--oh, forgot to mention: the orb does this thing where it plays its song over and over to itself, like it got stuck on repeat. I know I've heard it somewhere, but I can't place it. I was thinking about asking Mom, but the way she went off on me about not knowing enough about this guy Phonne, man! It took me a little while, but I found out that it's a Disney song. From Beauty and the Beast, it's the theme song for the heroine of the tale, someone brave and a great lover of books.
Okay, so it's a girl, right? But a girl who likes fantasy and books. So...I should get lots of bookshelves. Okay! Can do! We'll plan a shopping trip for tomorrow--I'll take the day off. Mom'll see that I can handle having a kid. It'll be fun.
I can't believe I just wrote that. How am I supposed to have live up the bachelor life with a baby tagging along?
Well, it's not like I've done much living up. Heck, I usually just hang out and play MMORGS if I'm not sewing or taking care of residents' problems.
It's not like I'm giving much of the high-life up. The last pretty girl I saw was the one in 113 who wanted me to unclog her toilet.
Misty, guard this with your electronic life. If you fail and this somehow gets out to anyone I know or even someone I don't know, you can count on never ever seeing that memory upgrade I promised. Or anything. EVER AGAIN.
And, on that happy note, I'm off to work. I've got someone going to a Beaux Artes Ball and they need something really special. Looks like a long night.
Calico Jack, signing off.
Jack looked at the words, allowed his machine to encrypt them, and then went off once more to make tea and then go and find his needle and thread.
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Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 9:39 pm
{ iii. s w e d e n . a n d . p e n t h o u s e . 7 5 3 }
little town, full of little people As a child, one of the things that Jack Calico had been scolded the most for by his parents had been, among hiding in department store clothing racks, riding shopping carts around at fast speeds. Pushing his small yellow Ikea cart around, Jack couldn't help but feel the same kind of euphoria he had as a child, even though this cart was much smaller.
Ah, sweet freedom. He could almost taste the brine upon his tongue, arr.
Jack snapped out of his reverie in the nick of time, barely avoiding a collision with a frail-looking old man. Grimacing to himself at the possible consequences of that, he carried on through the store, oogling the newest furniture and taking great pleasure in sitting on chairs and beds and trying them all out.
Was there something in the song that would indicate whether or not his kid would like soft matresses or firmer ones? Perhaps he should have tried asking the orb. He'd somehow managed to find "Belle"--that was its name, he'd found out-- on iTunes, and had put the song on his ipod to listen to in order to understand it better. But, the song on the orb sounded a little different: not as tinny as the near-perfect recording made it, but...better, fresher, like he were sitting right before the songstress as she poured her heart out through her voice.
He sighed. Alright, maybe he was a little attached to his orb.
The children's section was toward the back of the store, and giant vines and tree trunks signaled to him that this would be the perfect place to hunt for furniture for what seemed like (well, judging from the song at least) a little girl who'd want to explore everything.
He'd just barely gotten to looking at the different kinds of beds when his cell phone rang. Frowning at the interruption to his insightful selection process, Jack whipped it up to his ear and answered it with a curt:
"Calico."
"Mr. Calico?" Came the voice at the other end. Jack recognized it as his day manager, Bert Sanders. "Sorry to disturb you, but there's something happening with the complex that I thought you might want to be informed of, sir."
Jack's frown slid into a smile. "Bert, please, call me Jack. I keep asking you to. Is this about the elevator?"
For reasons as yet unknown, the elevator in the building had broken down and Jack had tried to expedite the servicing appointment on it as much as he could. However, apparently there had been a spate of elevator breakdowns as of late, and the complex had been placed on the waiting list. Someone would be coming by to look at it tomorrow, but Jack's tenants were getting restless about their unforeseen treks up and down the stairs. One woman was simply staying in her room.
"Ah, no sir, sorry." Bert replied, tacit politeness kicking in again. "It's actually about number 753, the penthouse apartment."
Jack's ears pricked up. "And?" He urged. "What of it?"
"Vacated, sir. The current tenant, a Ms. Winchester, recently has decided to co-habitate with her significant other and has terminated her lease early. I had a feeling that you might wish to be informed as soon as possible. By your leave, I've already had someone in to clean the floors and such, and it should be ready for a new occupant."
Jack's fingers were nervously drumming on a dresser top. "Did you post any advertisement for it, Bert?"
"None, sir. I had an inkling that you had your eye on it."
Jack pumped his fist into the air, surprising a young man and woman who had just walked by. He smiled winningly at them and then devoted his attention to Bert again. "Perfect! You're right on the money. I'll have my things moved up into it sometime later today, and then we can have someone in to clean out my old place and it can go on the market as soon as next week."
"Very well, sir." Bert replied, and then Jack clicked the phone off, ready to do a jig down the center aisle of the store.
He'd gotten the penthouse--the apartment he'd been a fool to rent out, the one he'd liked the most out of all of them-- and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him from enjoying himself.
He picked out a squid hanger set, a crib, a dresser, and then proceeded over to the stuffed animal section, where he found himself caught between picking a giant hippopotamus or an eel. Figuring that the hippo was easier to hug, Jack chose that and stuffed it into his cart. He'd head downstairs to get his chocolate and maybe a few more pots and pans (he had rotten luck with cooking, but was determined to try it some more), and then he'd be out and moving in!
Misty Moor/C:/Users/Calico Jack/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/Victory!.doc
What a day.
Well, Stephanie Winchester finally decided to move in with her boyfriend. I hate to say it, but I was worried that she'd be bringing the guy over to the penthouse to stay for a while, and I'm so glad she's out and I'm in. Moving everything I own up two flights of stairs was rough-- the boxes were one thing, but once I realized that my mattress had to go up, things got tricky. Long shall the tale be told of the great Captian Calico Jack and his epic battle with the king size mattress!
I think I must have scared somewhere around four people wrestling that thing into my new room. Oh well, you have to expect some casualties when doing these things, I guess.
On a more serious note, I actually, finally have my own place. Yeah, sure, you can say that a penthouse isn't all that awesome, but it's really more like owning your own mini-house or a ranch on top of a building that I'd thought. I've got a great view of the city from the balcony (I have a balcony!), to say nothing of the fact that I'm now officially at the head of my building (literally and figuratively~).
So, yeah! Feels good. I'd feel better if someone would stop calling me to plunge out her toilet every two days, but, hey, guess some things can't be helped.
I'm exhausted. A part of me hopes that having a kid won't be horribly exhausting, since I'm planning on doing a little of the stay-at-home Dad type of thing. I guess if it totally flops I could always put the little tyke in day care, but I want to give it a shot. Mom's already told me to take tons of pictures and that she wants me to send them to her post haste, so that's on the to-do list for tomorrow.
Even the little orb girl seems a little more energetic. Or does that mean she's just getting ready to come out and meet the world? Guess we'll find out. I do like knowing what she's going to be like, though. All the words that this orb's been singing are about a beautiful girl, so ole Calico Jack's gonna have to fight off suitors for her, huh? Ha!
To tell the truth, I'm kinda nervous. I mean, girls are great and all, but what if she and I don't relate? This whole parenting thing, it's like you're stuck with the kid even if you and it have nothing in common. What if she turns out to be a sports star and wants me to come to all of her games? Crap, I hate sports.
Am I fated to be a horrible parent from the start?
From what it sounds like, she'll at least be pretty imaginative. At least we'll have that in common. Hopefully.
The good news to all this is that she'll have her own room-- it's adjacent to my bedroom so in case she needs me for anything, I'll be able to be right there. Mom made me promise to keep the crib in my room or to get a baby radio, and the threw in a comment about preparing myself for a long string of sleepless nights. Just when I get excited about parenting, I have to remember the unpleasant parts. I just hope she doesn't spit up all over my customer's stuff.
Oh, hey, speaking of that~ I checked out that store that wanted to host my designs. They look alright--much more...wholesome? Is that the right word?-- than the last place. I'd rather run the business out of my place, but I'll probably get more exposure for my stuff if I do it this way...ugh, decisions. I still need to decide on a permanent name for my stuff. I've been toying with a few, like Compass Rose Clothes, Piratica Nautica, and things like that.
Argh! And I need to figure out names for the baby. It's going to be a girl, but I'm at a loss after that. Nothing too...normal. I hated being the 5th Jon in class and having to share my name. Something dreamy...maybe like Reveriel? It should sound a little French-- the orb sometimes bursts out into a flurry of "Bonjour!"'s, so I want to make whatever's inside it feel more comfortable with it's name.
Ah, I'll figure it out when I see the kid. Or something like that. Man, Mom's parenting advice is so weird. Maybe I should just go buy a book on all this stuff and save myself the trouble.
Anyway, looks like I'll have to wrap this up soon. My phone's ringing off the hook and Bert's at his wit's end. Ms. 113 seems to have caused a sewage backflow (eurgh) and it looks like the inhabitants of the building must once again call on Calico Jack to save them from the disgusting menace of ...old poo.
It's good to know I'm doing something worthwhile with my life.
'Night, Misty~ sweet dreams.
Calico Jack.
And with that, the great pirate captain grabbed the plunger he always kept handy by the door for such emergencies, and gracefully bounded off down the stairs to do battle once again.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2009 8:08 pm
{ iv. t h e . p r o b l e m s . o f . e l e v a t i o n }
waking up to say... By the time Jack sat down at his computer, opened a new document and began to write, he looked like he'd been through the ringer. His hair was tousled, a common indicator of his stress, as the more trouble there was, the messier his hair tended to get. His eyes were zinging back and forth across the screen-- an effect of being neurotic as well as caffeine-- and he heaved a great sigh before beginning his entry.
Misty Moor/C:/User/Calico Jack/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/Arrrrrrrrr.doc
I think that the title of this entry should probably sum up everything there is to say about today.
Who would have thought that elevator maintenance could be so costly? I mean, what is up with that? Is there some secret elevator repairmen's union out there that I don't know about, setting prices and making these secret cartels? Because I sure don't remember my regular elevator maintenance appointments costing so much.
Don't get me wrong, the guy was pretty nice. He was all: "Yeah, Mr. Calico, these things are like teeth. Sometimes you take good care of them and you can still find a cavity."
So great. I brush my elevators daily and now I have the equivalent of a transportation cavity. Wonderful. Jeez, makes me wonder whether or not my brilliant idea of cost cutting by not going for the building with two elevators was a good idea. Next time (if there is a next time after this madness), I'm definitely paying that factor a little more significance.
Ugh. Okay, so that was the elevator dude. Took a chunk out of my emergency fund, but hey, we have a working elevator. If I ever find out who broke my elevator and landed me with a baby orblet on the same day...oh, heads will roll.
At least the Ms. Oh-dear-I-clogged-it-again will be able to reach me directly rather than calling. I get to see her lovely, smiling face when she tells me about her plumbing issue. Mental note: call in Stan to look at that toilet. Honestly, if I'm going into the emergency stash as it is, I might as well get this thing cleared up too. Alright, tomorrow is now official toilet repair day.
On the bright side, I went into work (on time, thank you) and had a talk with Catalides. He's not thrilled with me taking part-time work, but I dropped hints that Melissa was really eager to extend her hours--and she is! What, little old me, lie about something that important? Misty, I am appalled--so he was less livid than he could have been, I guess. Add onto that me telling him that I have a baby on the way..
"You sure don't look pregnant, Jonathan." (he said that! Really? REALLY??)
Yeah, like I would! Arr, Calico Jack shan't stand for such trite nonsense. I did some...tricky explaining--old flame, stuff happened, she wants to see someone new, I didn't want to put it up for adoption, etc. I'm so not telling my boss that I got baby-bombed by the world's #1 Man o' Mystery. No. Just no.
Catalides is sort of short-ish, looks more like he'd be comfortable in some classy law firm than being the boss of a corner pharmacy, but go figure. The world puts people in strange places, and I'm no exception.
Alright, so on top of the elevator man and my boss, my Mom also called, checking up on me (again). I mean, it's not like I don't manage a building of what? 30 people, give or take? Am I so unable to look after myself?
Okay, so maybe I'm being a little unfair. Mom's just trying to make sure that I'm all set for this new baby, and I can understand that. Yeah, it'll be a lot to get used to, but I can handle it! I don't need my mother calling me to ask whether or not I'd like yet another box of diapers or if I've got a stroller yet. I mean, yeah, I'm going to need a crap ton of a lot of diapers, but I have this under control! Really! Why does no one believe me when I say that?
Ugh...
Looks like there's a new message waiting for me on voicemail. Any guesses as to who it's gonna be? Here's my picks:
Current List of Likely Candidates to Make Jack Unhappy When He Actually Decides to Answer Their Message on his Voicemail:
1. Rethe Phone (hey-- it could happen)
2. Dad
3. Catalides ("You're fired!")
4. "My toilet's clogged..."
5. Elevator Guy ("There's one more part we need...")
Alright, alright, enough of the silliness. I'm going to check it now.
--
Well, that was weird. Bert needs to take tomorrow off. Family stuff. Gosh, I hope it's a birthday and not an emergency. Poor guy. I tend to ran him ragged (probably more than I should) with all the stuff that goes on here when I'm out, but he's a good guy. He probably just didn't feel like dealing with raw sewage disasters all day and wanted a break. I know I'd do the same thing if I were in his shoes.
On the practical side, Bert not being around means I'm staying put for the day. Which is a yay and boo. It's a "yay!" because I can get that outfit for the ball done early and open up my orders again--I recently got a message board for my shop and it looks like I've got a few people interested. Oh yeah~ ;D go, Calico Jack and his nautical awesomeness!!
Am I too full of myself? Is that bad for a child? Aww hell, I'm getting into parenting mode already.
But yeah--Bert's out, I'm in. Which is not so good because Catalides wants me to work until the baby comes. Maybe if I tell him I'm birthing he'll let me off the hook.
Oh, the things I do to keep my residents happy...
Well, what about me? How am I feeling about this crazy kid, huh?
To tell the truth, not...horrible. I mean, I've been listening to the song an awful lot--how can I not? The thing's sitting right by my bed. It's like I start my day with hearing someone call out "Bonjour!" to me each morning. It's kinda nice. I've been living alone for a while, and I've found that even if it's just a little voice calling out to me each morning, it's really nice.
I'm worried about what it should eat, though. Apparently, from my copious online research (cough, cough...errm) these things become babies, which should in theory eat like us normal, non-orb folks. But until then? It's not like I haven't tried, mind you. I put a bowl of water in front of it, a small piece of bread...haven't actually touched the thing yet. It seems really delicate, like a precisely placed symphony or something, and if I touched even a little whisp of it, I might, I don't know, dislodge a 2nd cellist and make the whole thing sound weird.
Paranoid? Sure. It's what every twenty-something dreads, right? Becoming a parent.
I hope I'm an alright one. Don't expect me to be any kind of wonder at this, but I'm not going to go lax on this sort of thing. Whatever's happening is as unfair to this kid as it is to me: she didn't have any choice in whether she landed on my doorstoop or someone else's, so I can't blame her. We'll both (when she's old enough) get to the bottom of this. But, until then, I'm going to be the best I can be.
So...I should start a college fund now, right? Aw crap, I'm behind on being an awesome parent already.
Calico Jack.
Jack got up from the kitchen counter, stretched, and looked out his window. The penthouse afforded him a wide view of the city, and now with the sun just setting, it looked like all of Chicago was on fire.
He smiled to himself, getting his cell phone out and punching in the number for Catalides.
This city always found new ways to surprise him.
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Posted: Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:50 pm
{ v. s u r p r i s e }
Bonjour! Jack was up early that morning, though whether it was due to stress, the thought of facing his boss bright and early, or just frustration at the direction his life was heading in, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that these things tended to eat away at him in the deep recesses of the night and the morning was sometimes all too welcome.
He sipped his cup of tea mildly, eyes fluttering open and closed. What time was it? Four, five in the morning? He should be sleeping. He'd been awake far too late last night.
But...something was keeping him up. It troubled him when he tried to fall back asleep, so much so that Jack had tried checking his email and was going to start balancing his accounts when he thought he heard something coming from his room. Had he left the alarm on? Surely he'd have remembered to turn it off...
He came into the room, initially headed towards the alarm, but something stopped him in his tracks.
"The chatter of a town seems to fill the room as though in strings of sunshine your orb disperses. Sitting quietly in its place is a boy harboring a single wing on his back that seems almost like an extra hand capable of grabbing hold of things. And behind him lower on his back resides a long heavy golden tail curling slightly upward at the end, seemingly capable of only swinging side to side due to its weight and soft fluff."
Jack backed up slightly. Woah. His mom had never mentioned that childbirth was this...clean.
He blinked a few times, wondering whether the wing was an element of his imagination of not. No...his kid had a wing. But only one wing. What was up with that? Aww hell, now he really wished he'd followed his mom's advice and checked out that facebook group some more...was there a support section for new parents whose kids had...interesting appendages?
Well, at least one thing in his prediction had been right. He had a beautiful baby girl, albeit a winged and --Christ, a tail!-- slightly tailed baby girl, but...
He looked down more closely at the newborn.
And then he looked up. No way. This kid had a face like an angel and well, half of a pair of wings to prove it. There was no way that a baby this pretty--
He looked down again.
No, no mistaking it. He had just witnessed the birth of a baby boy.
Jack took a few moments to let that sink in, still doing a double-take every now and again. Well, that certainly flipped some of his plans on their head.
His child--his child, woah-- was looking up at him with supplicating eyes.
"Alright!" He exclaimed, feeling among the trepidation, shock, and apprehension, a sense of excitement. "I'm going to be the best parent ever! HA!" He pumped his fist into the air for a moment, savoring the emotion.
And then, shocked by the fanfare, his little baby began to cry.
Jack was immobile for a moment, holding his pose, looking, well, like an idiot.
"Hungry?" He asked the crying child. "Ah, food? Water? How about sleep? You want to do that?"
The child made no reply but to cry louder. Jack ran around the house, almost crying himself. "Aaaugh! I need communication!"
He came back bearing diapering supplies. If all else failed, at least he could get his kid diapered and a little less messy (in the event of anything happening), which, given that the newborn was now on his bed, would really bed for the best.
"Okay." Jack said, revving himself up for the task. "I can do this. I am the owner of a residential building in Chicago, I design awesome clothes, and I have a degree in pharmacology. I have got this."
He put on his game face and readied himself.
"Aw hell!" He swore, before abruptly reminding himself that he had a kid and therefore could not swear anymore. The tail kept swinging back and forth, making it nearly impossible to put the diaper on. "How on earth am I supposed to do this?" He fumed.
The kid, on the other hand, had stopped crying and was laughing. Jack looked at him. He tried to diaper the kid again to no avail, but the kid's laughter only increased.
"Oh, so you like making this difficult, huh?" Jack said, smiling. "Well, be forewarned, matey, Calico Jack's never lost a battle with a diaper yet!"
Calico Jack had not yet done battle with any diapers, but still, it was an impressive track record.
He played the game for a little while, but eventually just took the diaper into the kitchen and used a knife to slit a hole in it for the tail. With a little finagling, Jack managed to get his kid into it.
He looked into the baby's eyes.
"Well," he said, still thinking about what to say, "I can't keep calling you 'kid' forever, can I?"
The baby burped. How he could do that without having eaten anything was a mystery to Jack, but it did remind him that he did need to give his little kid food. He'd had for foresight to get baby food, and he opened a small jar of apricot jam, after having sat the kid in a high chair, and began to feed him.
"You like Dover?"
The kid ate the food, but didn't look especially interested. Jack couldn't say he was either. "Well, there's French in your song, right? So let's look into French names. There's Marcel, Guy..." But those didn't seem to capture the exotic nature of his kiddo's tail and wing. He needed something to take in all of this.
"Remy." He said, and as soon as the word was off his tongue, he knew it would fit. "Alright! Remy, we're going to take you to the doctor today and..."
His voice trailed off. This was partially due to the fact that Remy had spit up a good deal of the apricots all over himself but also because Jack had no idea what a doctor would say about a tail. And a wing, for that matter. Hell, Remy was like some sort of griffin kid.
Which, Jack thought, was pretty awesome, but he wasn't sure how people in the medical field were going to react. Definitely needed some support for this one.
Some time later, when Remy had fallen asleep, Jack sat by the window watching the sun come up and shine over the city. He'd called in sick as soon as he could (politely) but there was still so many things that had been left unsettled. Jack sat back and sighed. His life had just gotten a lot more interesting, for better or for worse, but that was how he liked it.
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Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 8:09 pm
{ vi. o p e r a t i o n : d i s g u i s e }
There goes the baker with his tray, like always "Sweet!" Jack whooped. "Bert, you're a wonder. I don't know how you do it, but you do and you're amazing."
He was so relieved. Jack had been staying with Remy in his apartment for days, it seemed, and he'd been anxious to get outside and nearly going stir-crazy until someone online had been so kind as to help him out. They suggested that he badger one of his subordinates for help, and Jack had known just the one. Bert, always affable and always polite, was there to the rescue and had helped him through a tough spot. Now, after Jack came back from his reduced hours at the apothecary, he took over the babysitting job from Bert, who was looking relieved himself, but happy.
"It's no problem, Mr. Calico." Bert replied. "To be honest, I'd much rather look after your child than run around managing the building all day."
And with that, Bert left, leaving Jack with Remy, who had fallen asleep in his crib.
Sinking in his favorite swivel chair, Jack propped open his computer and began to write.
Misty Moor/C:/Users/Calico Jack/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/Aah_Much_Better.doc
Well, look here! Looks like Captain Calico has sailed into friendlier waters at long last! Wooo!
I've struck gold with this new idea. Oh yeah!
This needs some explaining. I've been talking with this Antoine guy online a lot, and it turns out that he's the uncle of one of these Rethe Phonne kids. Her name's Aya, and she's apparently deer-like, since he said that she looks like Bambi. But anyway, he and I have been talking, and he thinks that there's some sort of crazy business in it for me, since I design clothes and all.
It turns out that Remy isn't the only one to have these strange additions on him-- Aya maybe has a tail, at least from what Antoine said-- and so it looks like people will need special clothes tailored for their kids. Since I like making clothes and have a kid like this, it's an incredible opportunity! Why not market a line of clothes for kids like this, especially tailored for them, whether they have wings or tails, or other things? It could be discrete, confidential, and I could even travel around with Remy to make measurements and stuff, if it was okay with their guardians! Sweet! Jack, my man, we have got it made!
Well, that's counting on someone not hoaxing me, or...well, other people not stopping purchasing things. I'm not getting the best return from my apartment, but at least I'm breaking even. Most of my spending money comes from profits I make from trading stocks or selling clothes.
Ah, decisions...
Anyway, I broke the news to Remy that I might be making this whole thing reality and he made raspberries at me. Imagine that. My own kid, blowing bubbles at his father's brilliant idea. Honestly.
Remy does look quite smashing in his new threads, I have to say. It was a trick, trying to figure out how to cut the fabric so that his wing and tail fit through, but now he's wearing the cutest little blue and gold outfit, and it suits him so nicely. I'm already working on some more stuff for him, including a little dinosaur set, as well as an eighteenth century pirate's outfit, which I hope he'll like.
I've found that Remy likes it when I read him bedtime stories. He's trying to make sounds, but he's still a little way off from forming real words. I'm still getting used to changing his diapers, though. Eurgh. Yeah, yeah, it's a parenting thing, but ... yuck. You wouldn't believe how much stuff a little baby is capable of--
Okay, enough of that.
But yeah! I'm really excited about getting Remy into some clothes and then showing him around to the wide world. I'm going to take him to a doctor to make sure that he's alright, since well, I mean, who knows if orb babies are the same as normal babies? They might need some special care or something. I'll talk to the physician, and maybe we'll see about keeping Remy's true nature a secret. I don't want the kid to have to go through any more madness than he's probably going to anyway.
It'll be difficult to disguise a wing and a tail, so the best thing is to hide them in the open--make them part of some grander costume. If the rest of the outfit is a little more on the costume-y side, people will be more inclined to think that the wing and tail are too. Granted, not all of Remy's stuff is going to be costumes; I'm making some regular clothes, too, with special slits in them for the wing and tail. Overall, looks like we've got a game plan!
Ah, Misty, I don't know. Maybe I'm just one of those wackos that needs to plan everything out. Maybe I should open an account to start saving for a pirate ship. But, I think Remy would probably appreciate me starting a college fund more. Awww...
I guess I should give Mom a call, let her know that my little kid is okay. She's been wanting to come and see him for a while, but I've sort of put things off...more for the purposes of me trying to come to grips with this sort of life than anything else. I have to hand it to her now, having raised me for all these years and hell, changing my diapers, the woman deserves a prize. Maybe I'll take her out to dinner if I can get Bert to babysit.
Aww man, now I'm all depressed. You know the last woman I took out to dinner? My mom. You know who I'm going to ask out next? My mom. Geez, I have a kid--you'd think the single father thing would make me a chick magnet. Damn...
Oh well. Got to make sure Remy's still sleeping soundly--hopefully a trip to the doctor's and a stroll about the neighborhood (finally a chance to use that new stroller!) will be possible tomorrow.
Over and out,
Calico Jack
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 12:45 pm
{ vii. a i r f a r e . a n d . a p r i c o t s }
the same old bread and rolls to sell Getting Remy settled into their hotel room in L.A. hadn't been the easiest of things, but somehow Jack had done it. The kid was sleeping in his crib, which Jack had somehow found out how to fold into his suitcase, leaving him with some down time.
Taking out his laptop, Jack stretched, still not quite used to the time difference.
Misty Moor/Users/Calico Jack/C:/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/Livin_it_up_in_LA.doc
Whew!
Just when you think you've got one thing settled, something else always comes up to bite you from behind, doesn't it? I've been feeling like that a lot.
Okay, so get this: I finally figured out a way to make Remy look like he's a normal kid, albeit being the ward of a somewhat abnormal parent. I mean, I don't want him to be singled out, but there's not much that I can do. He has a wing and a tail, and those two aren't going to be easy to hide. So, I figure, I should make it so that other kids, like the ones that he'll go to school with, won't have tons of ammunition to pick on him with. I mean, trust me, as someone who's had to go through teasing on behalf of their parents, it's tough but it's at least a little more bearable than being teased for your own qualities.
But yeah! I designed and sewed up a second wing to be worn on Remy's back, kinda like a backpack, to balance out the one he has already. I figure that having two wings looks a little less odd than having one, and I can always pass it off as a conceptual piece about the innocence of children.
Anyway, I've cut out holes for the wings and tail in the clothes, and I've got about four sets, with a few back up clothes just in case we have an accident or if something happens. Remy hasn't been too rambunctious yet, but I'm traveling prepared. There's nowhere else besides here that I can find clothes like this.
I was looking around at different movie sites, to see what was filming in Chicago and maybe try and get some free advertisement for my clothing line by doing the costumes for one of them. Granted, I don't have a degree in design, much less brand-name recognition at this point, so the chances are pretty slim. Still, I thought that this would be a good idea at least to try and I noticed that this amateur director out in L.A. might be interested in my stuff. So---guess what I did?
Hey, don't give me that look. I haven't had a vacation in how long, huh? It's been a while, and with the chance to go to Los Angeles before me, how could I resist?
So, I booked some plane tickets for Remy and myself, and soon enough I'd gotten him into his clothes and settled him into the plane. Security gave me a few weird looks, though, and they wouldn't let Remy pass without screening both of his wings. I made the fake wing plush-like, so the kid could lean back on it like a stuffed animal if he wanted to. Hopefully, that'll prevent people from noticing if the real wing twitches or moves to much. You'd be surprised at the things that people willingly disbelieve themselves about.
I told the stewardess that I was trying to design eccentric children's clothes that could withstand wear and tear, as well as travel. She didn't seem to believe me at first, but then one of her friends came by and we got to talking about other designs, so the trip wasn't a total loss. Most people murmuring that I heard seemed to think that I was the crazy one and not Remy, whom they called "the poor child of another weirdo." Jeez, am I that bad?
My goal here is to hide Remy in plain sight, you know, kinda be the big red herring that gets all the attention right next to him so that he can go about his business without having people think he's a freak. Thus far, it seems like it's working.
Oh, and mental note: never, ever try to feed Remy apricots after a long plane ride ever again. I thought he might get hungry on the taxi ride over to the hotel, since it was a little while since he'd last eaten, so I'd packed some baby food. As soon as I'd fed him three-quarters of the jar, he started throwing up all over the cab's interior. Let me tell you, the driver was not pleased.
Luckily, with a big enough tip, he seemed to retreat happily enough into the night. Honestly, the guy should thank me--that cab smelled like old socks and illicit drugs before Remy came in, and now it only harbors the delightful scent of warm apricots. Quite an improvement if you ask me.
But, I digress. I set up a meeting with this director guy a while ago, so hopefully we'll see each other and things will work out. If it does, awesome! My clothes could be in a movie! Aww man, my mom will be so proud.
Even if it doesn't, I'm glad for an opportunity to get out of the house for a little bit. It just seems like there's too many things on my plate back in Chi-town and I need a little time away from it all. Bert's been kickass, but other stuff about the building...not so much. Let's put it this way: there are times I wish that I had decided to take my chances and rent out a flat in another man's building instead of my own. Trust me, being a landlord is a lot scarier when you realize that all the angry people on the phone know where you live.
Oh! Remy's doctor's appointment went well. My Mom was able to hook me up with a man she hems lab coats for, and it turns out that the guy, Dr. McMillian, is a pretty discreet guy. He was a little shocked (to put it nicely) that Remy had a tail and a wing, but with a small amount of bribing--not monetary, more on that later-- he agreed to hush up the fact that Remy was anything more than human.
The bribe? Oh man. He's got a crush on my mom. WEIRD, I TELL YOU. She agreed to go out to dinner with him and he agreed to protect the secret identity of my child. Wow. Go figure. I've always known that the world was a strange place, but this just sort of takes the cake.
And on that strange note, good night, Misty. May you never find yourself in the position I do now...
Calico Jack
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Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2009 11:24 am
{ viii. n e w . h o r i z o n s }
every morning just the same Jack resisted the urge to stretch. Man, how long had it been since he'd been back home? It seemed like everything had gathered a layer of dust, not to mention that Bert looked harassed and that the plumbing problem on the lower floors had gotten a little more serious. At least the elevator was working again.
Remy had spit up his apricots all over himself again--surprise? -- and by the time Jack had finished cleaning up from dinner and had settled Remy into his crib for the night, he was exhausted. His email exchange with Antoine had kept him energized for the few days and weeks, but coming back into tyhe business of keeping everything together was tiresome.
He frowned to himself at his lack of a work ethic and began to type out an entry in his log.
Misty Moor/Users/Calico Jack/C:/Documents/Small Leatherbound Book/Captain's Log/Back_to_RL.doc
Well, it's been fun, relaxing and getting to strut my stuff in LA. But, alas! Captain Jack must be ever vigilant and return to his work in the land of Chicago.
The good news is that while tending to my apartment complex might not be the most fun thing in the world (read: disastrous), it's supporting me enough so that I can go part-time at the apothecary as well as do my clothing business on the side. Which, the latter of the two, I mean, has been pretty productive.
I tend to get the occasional order for something really out-there for a costume party every once in a while, but now I have a feeling that I'll be able to do more and more interesting clothes with this new line I've got out in my business. I'm calling it "Sea Shanty"-- get it? -- because it's going to be specifically geared toward making clothes for kids created by Rethe Phonne. You know, shirts that have wing and tail holes, or hats with spaces in the brim for over-sized ears to poke through.
I met this guy, Antoine, over on LJ after I posted about having Remy and not quite knowing what to do with the little guy. I also got a few comments on what the best brands of diapers were and all that jazz, but Antoine was by far the most helpful. Turns out that he and his friend James have their own kid, Aya, and she looks more like a deer.
Weeeeird! I thought all these kids were based on songs or something. Isn't that the point, to make a song into life? I don't know as much as I thought I did, I guess. Ah well.
Anyway, apart from that odd revelation, I asked Antoine to talk with James about possibly getting Aya to model some girl's clothes for me for the new line as well. I mean, I was going to have Remy do the girl's and the boy's clothes, but my mom nearly exploded at me over the phone when I ran the idea by her. She was all "You're going to do what?! You'll scar him for life when he gets older and sees pictures of himself in girl's clothes!"
Guess she's right. I mean, hell, I wouldn't want my baby pics spilled out all over the internet in the first place, and that's what I'm doing already. Yow. I hope he doesn't think I'm a terrible father for trying to further my business practice through him. Man, now I feel so guilty...
I should start on one of the outfits for Aya. Sewing will usually make me feel better.
Though, from what I hear, there's a toilet out there that's calling my name.
Ugh! Happy things! I'm so tired...why doesn't this city have an all-night plumbing emergencies hotline?
All in all, Aya sounds like a sweetheart. Antoine sent me a picture of her from his cell phone, and I've already got it put up on my site for the Sea Shanty line. I know it seems like a long shot, but hey, maybe people will see my store and I'll get to introduce Remy to more kids like him. I mean, it's got to be pretty damn lonely being the only kid with one wing and a tail.
Speaking of visiting--Antoine said that he might be able to bring Aya to Chicago some time! Woohoo! I'd love to see her in person, but they live in Napa, which is waaay out west. And, to be perfectly honest, after my plane trip with Remy to LA, I'd like to stay put for a little while before going all over the country again. I think Catalides and Bert would prefer it if I stuck around a little longer, too. I've had to give Bert a few days off to recuperate. I guess the lovely lady downstairs really took her sewage issues out on him.
Poor guy. He's been a big help watching Remy for me while I have to work and it sort of sucks that he's so beaten on by some of these people. Oh, woo. Rent's coming due at the end of this week and I get to have the fun task of balancing the books and determining who's being an energy hog. Fun for me.
Remy's adjusted fine. He likes it when I make funny faces at him and he tries to mimic me back, the little tyke. I tried doing my pirate impression in front of him, but he cried. I think it was probably because I had my plastic hook on my hand, and he got spooked. Whoops. I wonder if there are night time parenting classes. I could probably stand to take a couple of those. They'd probably yell at me less than my mother does whenever I ask her questions.
Like, "do you think one box of diapers should do it?" Oh boy. I have never heard my mom so disbelieving since we left Dad.
Anyway, here's the to-do list for me:
1. Sew clothes for Aya
I'm thinking of a cross between Edwardian England and feudal Japan. Don't ask me how, just go with it.
2. Reclaim Bert's sanity.
Tough, but possible.
3. Fix toilet.
Eww. But, hey, at least it's not my day job.
4. Take Remy out somewhere fun.
I've been taking him places or having him be watched by other people so much...I really want to do something fun with the kiddo. Like...a play castle, or shop for another stuffed animal. Something just for him and not for my own agenda.
Aww crap. My phone's ringing and I think I know who it is. Wish me luck, Misty--I think your good captain is about to have a showdown with a regurgitating toilet. Again.
Calico Jack
Jack picked up the phone, and in that instant, his face feel. Grimacing to himself, he picked up the baby monitoring radio, one of which was in Remy's crib, the other he held in his hand, and made toward the door.
What a fun night this was going to be.
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