Part 2 of 3
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Tonight, Will Coffin, urban shaman, and Bunny, his rarely sober roommate, discuss a public suicide with a dead man.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP301 - Coffin: Returns, Part 2 of 3
Some days glue me my hours are slumberless dear is the shadows I live with I'm underless little white flowers will never awaken you not where the bright culture solemn is taking you Angels have no fire of evolution in you or they may angry a fire so they'll join in you Welcome to Flashpull episode 301 this evening we present coffin returns part two of three this week's episodes are brought to you by Mike Loma I'm Mike Loma I write science fiction and podcast free chapters each week on my glow-in-the-dark radio I do that because you might not know me yet but my work has been drawn comparisons to Highland Clark and Bradbury cool huh actually it was ain't cool who made the Bradbury comparison my new book is alibi Jones and the sunrise of her alibi is trying to find the sunrise of her a lost artifact belonging to the cat-like race the doc curve you can hear chapters right now find out more about me and all my books at glow-in-the-dark radio.com Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday Wednesday and Friday evenings tonight will coffin urban shaman and bunny his rarely sober roommate discuss a public suicide with a dead man coffin returns part two of three written by J.R.D. Skinner art and narration biopoponix and audio produced by Jessica Coughton had spent the bus trip watching his companions sway with the turns her knuckles white around the crumb support rail they'd been forced to put their conversation on hold when they'd shuffled on to the transport and into a throng of Christmas shoppers but once they'd stepped out amongst the office building canyons that dominated the city's downtown core we'll resume his discussion what I was trying to say is that it wasn't a mistake I said it to keep dorsets blood off the tiles in that moment you do gladly slit his wrists and spent forever on that floor weeping and arguing the thing is it was obvious that what he was looking for in life wasn't the kid it was answers it was something meaningful to live for so I gave him one even if it was the end of the world bunny grunted acknowledgement and kicked at a pile of gutter slash yeah she said yeah that god damn Santa Claus of murder suicides coffin winced and internally wondered how much longer it would be before his roommate wandered into a bottle of gray goose listen he said about this meeting you'll have to keep in mind that the departed get bored after a few years of being pinned in place they need to feel like they have a little going on try and be patient these people deal in it's a game of telephone sort of with messages that they repeat to each other the dispatch falls a chain from sender to recipient but everyone gets to know everyone else through the note that they're relaying it fills the hours it's also why they're so handy to talk to though the dead whisper constantly to each other however generally the words they speak are not their own the vast majority of their time is lonely it's easy to work yourself up to crazy notions when you're trapped in your death like that as an example weighed the guy we're about to meet doesn't believe there's anything after he thinks he's basically that piece of gum that's lucky enough to get stuck on the bottom of the trash can outside the bag and somehow manages to never get dumped it doesn't want me to help him move on he's afraid of it the conversation had carried them to the base of a large snow dusted window one of perhaps a thousand such pains that made up the side of the Madison building the glass and granite skyscraper whose steel loop filled fountain had been emptied for the winter turning his back to the chilled desk jockeys smoking on the water features benches coffins hand dipped into the worn pocket of his leather jacket his fingers found the arcane silver chain of the crook of Ortiz and he lifted the talismans ornate hook from its place of keeping way daily had perished against the impact proof veneer six years earlier having been ejected through the windshield of a stolen vehicle by the stubbornly solid cement barrier that surrounded the lobby he'd landed face first so that his legs and most of his stomach rested against the tower and his right cheek was left at an awkward angle upon the sidewalk pavement "Wade," said Coffin, his boots no more than six inches from the dead man's nose. "Coughin," replied Wade. With some effort the apparition ground his cheek to a better viewing position. "Uh, and lady," Bunny only nodded her hands had formed tight fists in her pockets. Will was quick to move things along. I hear you know a little something about the televised suicide. The ghost shrugged as best as he could. "Yep." "You want to tell me?" "Nope," Coffin sighed. "You understand the guy was a father. He had three kids. They were all watching when Dad suddenly showed up on live TV from the plaza." Now am I afold if some schmuck wants to climb the greenery and hang himself with the lights? "That's Christmas," he heartless bastard said well. To Bunny's ear he sounded more tired than angry, but her sudden return to attention caught Wade's gaze. "Hey, don't judge me, lady," said the Phantasm. "I don't want to be a dick, but what if it's only my shittiness is keeping me here? What if I do a good deed and it balances my punishment, and I'm out into the nothing?" "I'd love to help, but I can't risk it." "Look, I'll cut you a deal," said Coffin. "Tell me what you know, and I'll smash the old woman's window." Wade frowned. "You smashed your window last time." "Yeah, it won't piss her off all the more since she just got it replaced. All that heavy karma will be yours, and it'll easily offset whatever telling me a third-hand conversation might." There was a moment of silence as daily considered, during which Bunny found herself oddly tempted to tuck in the logo-laden shirt that had slid up the man's back at the time of his death, and was now eternally left bunched about his neck. Rather than draw the attention of the locals, however, she instead retreated to her own thoughts. "Finally," Wade said, "I saw to know a stabbing victim from over in the plaza. Tommy McElroy. He didn't see it, but he was talking to someone who did." "Yeah, I know Tommy," said Coffin. "He doesn't like me much. Frankly, I'm not surprised someone murdered him." "Ah, he's not so bad when you get to know him. After the first three years, I barely noticed what an asshole he was." "Right, so, as I was saying, Tommy was talking to the bad crossing guard, and the guard was supposedly friggin' gleeful. He had been there first him when the guy took his dive. He apparently recognized it as a certain kind of abracadabra. He said he even knew the wizards or whatever they caused it. He also said he was surprised that you would let that sort of thing go on. Tommy thinks the guard is hoping you're slipping. I told him everyone knew you were just out of town for a few days. When the tale finished, Will nodded. "Thanks. You really helped me." "You take that shit back," replied Wade. Coffin only smirked and returned the occult hook to his pocket. "Come on," he said. "We got another bus to catch." He judged himself outside of Daly's earshot. Bunny asked. "You gonna break some old lady's window?" His grandmothers, specifically. "But no. Of course not. Every time I talk to Wade, I convince some of the same things. He blames her for his death. That much is obvious. But that's as far as I've ever gotten with his case. If he's got to live on with his delusions, they can at least be helpful ones." Still, I wish we were just smashing up some manis place. No. We got a much less pleasant trip ahead of us. We're off to see the bad crossing guard. FlashPulp is presented by FlashPulp.com and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. Text and audio commentaries can be sent to Skinner at Skinner.fm or the voicemail line at 206-338-2792. But be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast. We'd also like to thank the free sound project found at freesound.org. For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com. And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends. 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