Personal log of Kowalski, Roger
It ain’t gonna rain today, that’s what the weather forecast says. But big squalls of the stuff that should not happen today were waking us two up in the morning. She established to sleep, snuggled in my arms like a cat. One of the things that turned the nights partly sleepless for me.
But she didn’t repeat that joyish kissing after the last day of work. “It’s not that I want to”, she said, “but I could always get money in.” “Isn’t this work a lot better?”, I asked and she said, “sure. But you should relax, really. I can help you out if you fail. I would really do that for you.”
This also kept me awake.
At breakfast she declared that to find a stolen motorcycle from two days ago would be totally waste of time and effort. “But we can try it. Maybe it’s…” “…bullshit”, she said. “I just tell you, don’t hang your expectations too high, ’kay?”
The bike was from a courier who had parked it in front of his apartment building. In the morning hours it was gone. He said it was locked with a normal secure lock and that it’s worth five grand, so we would get five-hundred, if we would recover that thing.
Got a photo, plate number, ID and serial number of that vehicle. I ran the plate over the net to find out if it was found somewhere or seen, then I declared. “Let’s check the local chop shops.” Babs was just totally amused and laughed: “Kay, let’s check them. That’ll be fun.” I asked if they could get me a cheap bike. But after the first said: “We don’t do such things”, and the second asked me about specifications. The third one was greeting me with my name. And after that I was bouncing off the surface of the shops like I was made of rubber.
“Maybe you like to?”, I started to ask, but she just swallowed up her milkshake, burst into laughter and slid from her seat into the leg-room of the car, cursing and laughing. “No shit”, she said finally. “If you want to destroy every street cred I have, I can do that, sure. If you think that’s worth it…” I managed to see that she had made a point. “Nah, it’s okay. It’s enough if one of us made a fool of himself for a day.” But I didn’t want to give up. “Let’s try that computer thing the Tyrell Corp offers. Can’t be so difficult.” “Ya”, she slurped her shake. “Let’s see…”
Miss Simpson was staring at me. “You mean seriously? That’ll cost. You mean you didn’t find that thing yet? How long have you?” “From morning until now.” “Hm”, she made a face and looked. “Okay, I’ll arrange that. How much money you’ll get? – Five-hundred okay. We talk about money if that bears fruit.”
After a few hours of waiting I got nervous and called in. “Ya”, Miss Simpson said. “You have no idea. We follow some traces… details… we’ll find it.” After halve an hour every legal way of checking where something like a bike might have been disappeared would have run out of options. I had an idea what was going on there, but I didn’t ask. We were at supper when Miss Simpson called. “You got it?” “We know where it is”, she said and sounded tired. “But you won’t like it.” “So?” “There’s some traces of it driving into the middle of gangland of the Redmond Barrens, so…” “That’s not too good, you mean?” “I don’t think you’d like to get your life wasted in search for a bike that’s most likely already chopped in parts, in the middle of a well protected chop-gang and if you should recover it, I stopped my data analyst”, and I knew ‘Hacker’ would be the correct word for it, “when his fee hit the three-hundred. Guess you won’t like to go into the middle of gang land for a bike that will bring you two hundred at best?” Babsie just kept silent for a moment, then burst with laughter. Miss Simpsons icon someway looked not so happy. “So you have found a… partner?” “I did. What should I do next?” “Cut losses. Forget about this and enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Mister Kowalski. Bad idea that bike-thing. We call it a lesson. I won’t charge you, because I should have known better. Total waste of time and effort.” Babs was rolling on the bed, laughing. “At least your partner got something out of it. Good day.” She hung up.
She showed me some of her favorite movies on telly, then she yawned to show she was tired. “Let’s doze the rest of the day off”, and she blacked the screen. “You look stressed. Do you like me to massage your back?” “Hm”, I made. “You look stressed. Really, you should relax about this. Things like that happen. I’m really good in relaxing massage. You probably will fall asleep before I am through with the program. Just take off your shirt, lay down. Don’t worry.”
I indeed was a bit tired and stressed and let her help me. “Don’t worry”, and she started to massage my back, sitting on my legs. “Yeah”, she talked, “feel this knot? You are hell of stressed…” I relaxed after a while when I discovered, she just was doing a massage. She was careful and perceptive, not like someone who was a professional masseur, but it was indeed helpful. “That’s good”, I acknowledged after some time. “See? You know”, she explained, “you are the first one that isn’t just trying to fuck me in the moment I’m in bed. That gives me some leeway to try out things I always wanted to do. You don’t think of sex, no?” “No”, I said, “not if you insist in bringing the issue up.” “Okay”, and she found a part of muscles in my shoulder that needed taken care. “How is that?”, she asked. “Good.” She didn’t talk for a while so that I nearly dozed off. But she suddenly stopped, let drop herself besides me and declared: “Your turn”, giggling.
“What?” “What do you expect? That I’m sitting in the car all day and don’t need some massage? Nobody ever did that. So it’s your turn.” It took a moment to let sink the idea in. “You mean now?” “No. I mean next year. You have no problem doing that, have you?” “Ehrm, I don’t…” She now looked at me, very serious. “Dare it.” “Okay, okay. I’ll do it.”
She pulled her shirt off and was holding it in front of her breast. “No sex?” “No sex.” “Promise?”, she asked. I rolled my eyes. She snuggled down into the sheets. “Be careful, will you? You won’t hurt me?” I got a funny feeling about that, as if there was something wrong. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. Well, in fact I could what was the main part of the problem.
I tried to ignore the word ‘sex’ that she had put multiple time in the air and concentrated on the massage. Her back was skinny and soft. And I didn’t found any tenses in her muscles. But she was enjoying it much, moaning silently when my hands were gliding her back up to her shoulders. She relaxed and didn’t talk at all. There was something tense in the situation. Something that I wasn’t happy about. But she just enjoyed my touches.
I stopped and let my hands rest on her back. “That’s just awesome”, she sighed and turned around, lying on her back, her naked belly and breast uncovered. She grabbed my hands: “Thank you”, she said, kissed my left then my right hand. “Lie down, warm me, will you? Please?” I wanted to protest but didn’t find a way to explain why. I did so with some worried feelings about the whole situation. She pushed her back against my stomach and put my arms around her, hands resting on her belly. I didn’t move, because she already was under my skin. “Thank you”, she whispered and caressed my hands after a while. “Awesome.” I said nothing until she turned around and her warm body against mine. “Thank you”, and she kissed me softly. “I don’t th…”, I tried to say, but she simply kept kissing until I kissed her back for a moment, then she turned around again and said: “Good night”, snuggled against me, her back against my belly, my hands in hers, my underarms touching her naked breasts.
No sex my ass! When Charleen was returning tomorrow I will have a damn hard time to explain this.
Before she felt asleep she whispered innocently, “is this this sensual thing without sex?” But I couldn’t do anything but grunting as a response. Her black hair was tingling in my mouth, her smell all around me. The taste of her kiss on my lips. I would have to stop this tomorrow.