Author: uberbudgie





My brother and I are very different.

I'm pragmatic, and he's a tad gullible.



I dreamed that we were adolescents

again, and that for some weird reason

we were in this really seedy area

around sunset together... It looked

like a little like pictures of the Pike

Place Market in Seattle when the

market was really run down... Anyhow,

it seemed like we were there because

I'd been told to watch my brother by

my parents.



My brother happened across these

con artists that must have been barely

about 21 or so while we were on the

second level of the complex. They had

Coors Lite 20oz'rs in brown paper bags,

red windbreakers ala 'Rebel Without a

Cause,' and weren't very skilled at what

they did, but my younger brother took

to them immediately. He left with

them despite my protests.



So, I ended running like mad throughout

the complex of beat up and questionable

stores trying to keep up with this group,

out of their line of vision, and trying to

figure out what the heck they wanted

my brother for in the first place.



Seems like they thought that my

brother had some important article of

some kind that appeared to be a piece

of crap but was worth a great deal of

money. And they'd harm my brother if

they did not get it. He did not know this,

but I did. There was something in the

decaying wood walls that altered the

perception slightly and I was picking up

on the subtle intonations of their voices,

which because of the echo, were a lot

louder than they intended.



As I was following them and listening,

I came to the realization that these

people were not from the area, and did

not know the complex, though for some

reason I knew it like the back of my hand...



And I was able to figure out what it was

that they were looking for. I'd passed a

second-hand shop that had the item

haphazardly piled in a cluttered window

display along with a bunch of faded vintage

hats, mismatched gaiters, and random

other items that looked like they'd been

leftovers from a charity free bin.



The guy who ran this shop was a middle-

aged guy, who charged outrageous prices

for the stuff in his store. He had this

horrible hot pink wig that he'd priced at

$35-, that looked like it had been

shot out of a cannon and was caked with

dust. He also looked suspiciously like this

guy who once gave me a bad haircut and

charged me $16-, then complained when

I didn't give a tip.



I was bargaining with this guy knowing

full well that the item would be a lot more

than what I had in my wallet, trying to

think of a way to get the item anyways

to get my brother out of trouble.



Just then, this modified baby carriage

flies past the window. It was one of those

antique leather and iron English-style

'prams'. The sort of baby carriage that

one sees in Victorian era dramas on PBS,

which had been turned into a make-shift

go cart.



My brother has stolen the con artists'

get away vehicle, and they are right behind

him!



So I tear out of the store with the item in

one hand, my wallet in the other, and the

con artists behind me and the guy from store behind me, trying desparately to get my

brother to listen to me as I try to point out

places to hide.

Fish Market

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