Porkchop, Espionage, and a Mechanical Symphony

Contains some adult humor

 “Chapter 9: One for the Road”, the Narrator’s voice is like cream, thick and sweet. It drips down Ted’s ear canals as his head sinks into the pillow. It’s his lone indulgence, horribly written spy fiction. But man does J Coen Daniels write excellent characters. It’s just after 9 o’clock on a Tuesday, and 100 Washington Heights winds down for the night. Ted readies himself for tonight’s chapter: pillow at perfect 45 degree angle, blanket snug but not too tight, and the light dimmed to an ambient glow. He adjusts the headphones and the Narrator picks up the story:

   “Katarina crosses her legs and the slit of her skirt inches up her thigh. She leans in closer, and places her elbows on the cold metal table. Mason’s eyes are drawn to the top button on her military blouse, freshly ironed and perfectly taut. “So Mr. Spy Man”, she says in a thick Russian accent, “are you going to tell me the location of the launch codes?”. Mason sits back in his chair and greets her question with a grin. His blue steel eyes shimmer in the poorly lit chamber. Katarina leans in closer pulling her elbows together. Her bosom balloons from the top of her blouse.”

Oh you sultry vixen you. You know how to play hardball. Ted hides his smile and sneaks a peek at Dolores next to him in bed. Her eyeglasses have fallen half way down her nose and she’s deep in focus on her Sudoku puzzle. He giggles inside like a child getting away with the theft of a cookie.

   “Now Mr. Spy Man, I need those launch codes. If you don’t give them to me I’m afraid very bad things are going to happen to you. Things you Americans could never dream of.” Mason responds, “Now don’t make promises you can’t keep doll. I have quite the imagination.”

Mason you animal! I wish I had your charisma, your charm! Why couldn’t I be a spy? Ted pictures himself as Mason, twenty years younger and twenty pounds lighter.

   “Katarina fights back a smirk and lounges back in her chair, crossing her legs, and exposing a small tattoo on her lower ankle. Mason traces her form with his eyes. “I’ll tell you what”, Mason says, “Why don’t we make a deal?" Katarina is annoyed. “No deal American! You have no leverage here”. But she can’t resist his temptuous smile. “What deal American?” “Well seeing as you’re not gonna let me go, and I’m not gonna tell you where the codes are, we might as well get to know each other on a...deeper level. His eyebrows indicate his intentions.”

My god Mason, you dog! Even in the face of danger you’re on point. Ted's heart rate picks up its pace. God I wish I was a young man again.

   “You think you are worthy of my attention”. Katarina looks away in pretend disgust. You can play hard to get all you want. Mason always closes the deal! “Why don’t you remove these handcuffs and we’ll find out.” Mason’s resolve is unshakable.“Tell me Mr. American spy man, what makes you so confident you can handle a woman like me?”

Mason leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. He leans in fuuuurther, deeeeeper, and in an almost whisper says,

"TA-TA-TATA-TA-BOOM!"

What? Ted pauses the audiobook, removes his headphones and asks Dolores “What was that?” She looks up from her puzzle “Hmm?”

“That noise. You didn’t hear it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“That tapping noise, bahhh nevermind”, he says and returns to the silky narration.

Now where were we? The narrator's voice resumes:

   “Under the table, Katarina slides off her stilettos and rubs her bare foot up Mason’s inner calf. The feeling awakens a passion in his loins. He then remembers the knife he carefully hid on his upper thigh. He kicks her foot away just as she crests his upper knee. “Is it too much for you, Spy man?” “Not at all dear, but I must say I’m not much of a foot person. Perhaps you could try with your hands?”

Yes! Ted shifts, and sits up in anticipation. A tiny spark of vigor is drawn to life in his underpants but is quickly extinguished. I'd be pitching a tent if I was 20 years younger. He's saddened by the thought.

   “Katarina stands and walks around the table running her hand along Mason’s rugged shoulders. She leans into his left ear, her breath smells like spearmint with an aftertaste of bad coffee and whispers softly, “... BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! TA-TA-TATA!

Ted rips his headphones off, “There! Did you hear it this time!?”

“It’s just the new upstairs neighbor”, says Dolores her eyes still on her puzzle.

“It’s nine o’clock at night Dammit! This building has gotten out of control. Mr. Brooks, god rest his soul, never made a peep. He was a fellow of respect! And that damn Dougherty boy shot me in the rear with a toy gun as I was checking the mail this morning! The audacity! Does no one respect their elders anymore?”

“Calm down, remember what Dr. Carlyle said about your heart.”

“Damn Dr. Carlyle and damn this neighbor. What’s a man have to do to get some peace in his own home. I’m trying to enjoy..” BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! TA-TA-TATA! The noise is coming from directly over their bed, a shuffling of feet in a staccato rhythm. It bounces and glides, stops and starts.

“What’s that dear?”

“I said I’m tryin… “BOOM-da-BOOM-TA-TA-TA-BOOM! An instrumental piece hums through the window and the ceiling begins to pulse as the bass kicks in, low and booming. Ba-BOOM Ba-BOOM Ba-BOOM. A glass of water reverberates on the nightstand. Porkchop, resting in his dog bed, perks up and prepares to howl. 

“GODDAMMIT! THESE INSOLENT BASTARDS!”

“WHAT?” says, Dolores. “AHHHH!” Ted clambers to his feet, his left foot sinks into the mattress and he boogie-woogies until he loses his balance and falls forward with his hand catching Dolores’ leg. “Ouch”, she says, “What are you doing?” Ted finds his balance and starts pounding on the ceiling with a closed fist. A few pounds fall perfectly in time with the 4/4 beats from the bass blasting through the floor. “Hey! I know you can hear me! Hey!”

“She can’t hear you Ted! Just stop”, says Dolores. Ted raps harder and let’s out noises that sound like a rabid raccoon caught in a trap. Porkchop jumps out of his bed and begins barking. “Ted she can’t hear you!” Her words are lost in all the clamor. After another measure, there is silence.

Dolores opens her mouth to say something but Ted quickly shushes her with a finger over his lips. Frozen in place, he listens for a moment. Nothing. Another moment. Not a peep. “Happy now?” says Dolores returning to her Sudoku puzzle. Ted lies back down as gentle as a leaf falling to the ground, afraid to stir up another commotion. He shifts into a comfortable position, punches his pillow into a suitable form, puts on his headphones, smacks the dog off the bed and resumes his audiobook:

   “That was...Mr. Spy Man...I didn’t..”. Her face is flush with passion. Mason stands, his exposed buttocks glistening in the night air.”

God dammit! I forgot to hit pause! How do you rewind this damn thing? Ted fumbles with the tablet. His old fingers lack the dexterity to move the slider. After a few attempts he becomes agitated and puts the tablet down and resolves to go to bed. He rolls to his side mumbling obscenities under his breath. “Goodnight dear” says Dolores. His response is inaudible.

He pictures himself as Mason, repeling into the upstairs apartment and dispatching the foe above. A buxom girl as his reward. The sheer delight of his dream appeases his anger. His body slackens and he drifts..drifts...drifts… TATA-TATA-TATA-bA-BA-bA- BOOOOM

A hip hop song with the bass turned to 10 booms with vigorous footfalls peppering the ceiling. Porkchop howls. “That’s it! I’ve had enough!” Ted lunges to his feet throwing the blanket over Dolores and shuffles into the next room. “The Doctor said you need to watch your blood pressure”, Dolores reminds him. There’s a rummaging sound followed by something falling and a “Dammit”. Moments later, Ted returns wielding a broom in both hands with a deranged glint in his eyes. He watches the ceiling, listening closely, then pounces into action poking and prodding with the broom handle.

TA-TA-TA-TA! The action moves to the left, Ted is right on its heels. Then it slides to the right and seemingly glides across the room. Ted’s ferocity escalates and he almost seems to enjoy the raucous scene. Flakes of chipped paint fall to the ground. Porkchop gets the zoomies and criss-crosses under his feet nipping at his pajama bottoms. Ted continues poking, poking, poking. “Two can play this game! You hear me!” He follows it to the wall and bowls into the nightstand like a bull knocking the tablet and headphones onto the floor. Then gives chase to the bathroom. Porkchop finds a new interest and takes a bite out of the headphones. The audio spills out:

   “Mason grabs the knife and kisses Katarina farewell. “Don’t wait up for me dear, I’m afraid its going to be a long night at the office.” “Oh Mr. Spy Man” She swoons in his arms."

In the bathroom, Ted distends over the toilet, his stomach hanging out of his shirt, and tries to reach the corner where the noise is coming from. With one hand he holds onto the towel rack and with the other pokes, pokes, pokes. Pill bottles and hand soup fall into the sink and his foot finds a home in the wastebasket. “Come on you..you..argh!”

The tempo picks up again and foxtrots to the kitchen. Ted backs out of the bathroom, kicks off the wastebasket and fights with the door frame. From the top of her glasses, Dolores watches him disappear into the kitchen. Something from the wastebasket clings to his sock. She shakes her head, “Ted, she still can’t hear you!”

“A-HA!” Ted moves on from the broom and retrieves two frying pans from the cupboard. He climbs onto a chair and bangs the pans together. The steel clang echoes through the apartment. “How do you like it now!” He laughs a madman’s laugh. Porkchop runs to the kitchen, drops an earpiece from the headphones onto the floor, and nips at the ankle of Ted’s pajamas. “Down you damn dog! Down!”

Ted imagines the person laughing at him. This feeble old man, what a clown.

You must want a war! Is that it! I am Mason! “You want war? You got it!”, He screams at the stranger above. He leaps from the chair, his ankles bemoaning the fall. The anger boiling inside makes him forget about his age. He races stiff legged to the closet and returns with the vacuum. He turns it on then grabs the tea kettle and puts it on the stove. YES! YESSSSS! He works swiftly like a mad scientist conjuring up a maniacal experiment.

"Don't forget the blender", Dolores says dryly from the bedroom. He doesn't sense the sarcasm and digs it out from the back of the cabinet. He shovels it full of ice and turns the knob to "Crush". The narrator's velvety voice chimes in:

"Mason opens up fire, the muzzle smokes and bullets ricochet off the walls."

Ted returns to the frying pans and conducts a mechanical symphony. The tea kettle hisses, the vacuum hums, the dog barks, the pans clang. It builds to a crescendo.

In the bedroom, Dolores marks the page in her puzzle book, removes her glasses and places them both on the nightstand before rolling onto her side. "Goodnight Ted".

The symphony in the kitchen reaches its refrain. Ted listens intently and proudly. Beaming from ear to ear. He ignores the tightness in his chest. He feels a youthful vigor. He doesn't even realize the noise upstairs has died off.

The vacuum winds down, the kettle is removed and the ice in the blender turns to water. Porkchop returns to chewing the earpiece of the headphones and Ted struts back to bed like a conquering hero. He lays down and puts on the half chewed headphones:

"Mason boards the plane, launch codes in hand and another successful job nearly done. He hears a click behind him. He turns to find Katarina with a pistol leveled at his head. "I'm sorry Mr. Spy man, but we have unfinished business".

Ted is out the door before the blanket even falls back to the mattress. His chest burns from ascending the stairs. He stops on the landing to catch his breathe, mumbles in uppercase, then climbs the remaining flight. Some kind of flamenco style music blasts through the door. The bass wobbles his knees. He bangs on the door until the music stops and it swings open. A girl appears with sweaty strands of hair stuck fast to her forehead.

Without a proper introduction he unleashes a tirade so vitriolic and foul it would be given a TV-MA warning. As the last of his insults fall from his mouth, he wipes the spittle from the corner of his lips and says, "Well? Why aren't you saying anything!?" Its apparent as soon as it leaves his lips.

Back downstairs, Ted slams the door closed and marches through the kitchen but before he can reach the refrigerator theres a knock on the door. He answers it and is met by a man in a black uniform with a badge displayed on his chest. He peers over his shoulder to see Ms. Cheevers. Ms. Cheevers you bitch, you still have my roaster pan!

He parts ways with feigned courtesy, puts the citation on the table and collapses in bed. He rolls to his side facing Dolores and says, "You knew she was deaf, didn't you".

"Her names Sarah and she's a dancer."