Capped AgainPosted on May 31st, 2007 8 comments
To recap, because I seem to have become somewhat distracted of late, my name is Henry the Adequate and I am a superhero. A magnificent superhero with ultra-xray vision, the strength of quite a lot of men, a rampaging flamethrower embedded in my forearm, and an enormous penis.
Ego. An enormous ego.
I live in a place that is very much like any other place, only less interesting. I fight crime. I pursue evil wherever it may hide, like a great big pursuing thing.
But on to the recap.
First there was the phone call:
“Just be there Henry, you moron.”
And so, I met my sister for lunch:
“They’re close Henry,” she hisses, as though she is a snake of some kind. Or an evil super villain who is rattled and really quite desperate. Or a rattled snake. One should not rule out the snake theory at this point. “I can’t go back. Not.. ” And here she pauses slightly, shudders, and rubs vigorously on what I sincerely hope is some kind of concealed weapon on the inside of her thigh… “… there…”
And then we are fleeing:
“Don’t worry Dizzy,” I reassure as we pause to assess the situation, “I brought backup.” And here he is now. “Mr Enthusi…. ” But I cannot finish, because I am currently writhing on the ground like somebody who has just been shot by a kind of nerve-rending ray gun designed to entirely disable the target.
“Backup’s here, Henry,” remarks Mr Enthusiasm.
“Henry…. remember your promise Henry…” she gasps, at which point my brain explodes… explodes in a fiery eruption of images, sensations, alien memories, and cheesy desires!
And her words. “Remember, Henry,” she gasps, again, “Remember.” As if these words are some kind of trigger a raging torrent of unfamiliar things invades me, pressing in on all sides, crushingly, until I cannot breathe, can only struggle hopelessly against the inevitable outcome.
And the memories. Unremembered. Unknown. Alien. Yet I am almost certain now that they are authentic, somehow. But how? I fear the answers, not only for what they may hold, but also for the manner in which they might be discovered - for it seems that my only choice is to surrender to the tide, immerse myself in it, hoping that I will emerge whole and integrated, and with understanding.
And so it begins, at some time in the not so distant past, in a room that is immediately familiar, yet also entirely unremembered, dressed in regular street clothes, unremarkable. Regular, like an unadorned chocolate shake. Un-super. Absence of an embedded flamethrower seeming somehow right, and normal, and, well, me.
I lean back, take a long drag on my cigarette and smile confidently. “It’s time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. Get your gun, Annie.”
“Shut the fuck up, Henry.” Well, it’s nice to know even in this weird dream-remembering my sister is unchanged. Except for her name. And the other thing. I am prepared to face the other thing now, but for a small voice somewhere in the wilderness of my shattered mind.
It cries out, urgently, this voice, as though there is something really really important I have forgotten. “Henry!” it calls, “Henry! What about the case? The Case Henry!”
But I am gone.
8 responses to “Capped Again”
I thought that said “crapped again”… and I was thinking… yeah, and?
You’re scaring me…you’re ending it aren’t you?
No, no, No!
Don’t break it off…!!!
Every story must have an ending. Even one as fabulous as this.
Damn that sounded all deep and meaningful. Sometimes I amaze even myself with my radical philosophizing.
you can always extend your radical philosophizing to your non photo blog…
Hurry up, send your cv, the urge to work is going away! never good, dat
Possibly. Interesting notion.