08/20/1999: CRANKYBLANCA [fanfiction] -- chapter one

Posted By: Richard_B_Bernstein


CRANKYBLANCA

Chapter One: Breaking a Resolution

RBB [voiceover]: I sat there, in Cranky's Café Americain, and I took a sip of the strong black coffee. It tasted good – harsh, undiluted, just what I needed. Some people lose themselves in booze. I prefer coffee.

I sat there, my fountain pen lying uncapped next to my journal on the table before me, and I surveyed the scene. It was just your usual night in Crankyland – the newbies blathering and posturing and strutting, the veterans grouped in quiet clusters, discussing whatever they felt like, the glare of the overhead lights casting strange shadows across the crisp white tablecloths as waiters moved through the crowded room bearing trays heaped with food and drink. The only thing missing from the scene was an ashtray at my table with a half-forgotten cigarette smoldering to oblivion.

But I don't smoke, so it was just as well.

I had come here, as I had a lot in recent weeks, to forget. It has been a rough month for me. The woman I loved had crashed and burned, and taken my heart with her once and for all. I forgave her, of course. But it still hurt, to lose happiness in a jangle of misunderstandings, bitter words, and bruised feelings. It still hurt, and I didn't want to sit home alone hurting with just the past for company. So I came here, to Crankyland. I'd never brought her to Crankyland, and indeed I'd warned her away from the place, because it was no place for someone like her, someone who had real class but a layer of skin too few. I smiled a grim, mirthless smile at that thought. People thought I was too thin-skinned. Compared to her, I was a Sherman Tank.

I kept sipping the coffee, and looking around the place. I'd decided to try to be quiet and keep to myself this time. It was hard to socialize; it had taken all I could pull together inside me just to get up and come to Crankyland. But I had done it. I figured that that was victory enough tonight.

I looked at the book at my elbow, near the journal. I've written enough in the journal for now, I thought, so I might as well turn back to reading. THE AMERICAN COMMONWEALTH; the tall gold capital letters gleamed against the dull blue weave of the cloth binding. I'd always meant to read the damn thing straight through, and, by God, I was going to do it this time, among other things as a way to help heal myself.

I was midway through the chapters on Congress. It was depressing reading, in some ways, but the elegance of the prose helped ease my spirits. Around me the conversation slowly faded and died, but I was too engrossed to notice. I was reading and nodding when a shadow cast itself across the page. I looked up, and despite myself, I pursed my lips in a slow whistle of astonishment. There he was, the Big Man himself, Jason Cranky.

CRANKY: Professor Bernstein, may I sit down?

RBB: Sure, help yourself. It's your joint, isn't it?

RBB [voiceover]: I was wary of the guy. We'd had more than a few run-ins, he and I, and they'd left me bruised, shellshocked, and cynical. The last case, though, I'd helped to save the man's life, and he had declared himself grateful. I didn't know what kind of faith to put in Cranky's gratitude. Besides, it's hard to accept the concept of gratitude as a feeling expressed by a man with a big spherical purple head who kept sticking his right index finger at his mouth in the universal expression of "I wanna BARF!"

Cranky sat down, and I noticed something right away. His faultless white dinner jacket couldn't hide his nervousness. This was the guy who ran the whole operation, but he was also one scared Cranky. His hands were shaking, twisting together as if he was trying to wring all the sweat out of them. And his eyes held that odd stare that I knew so well from seeing it in the mirror – the stare of hopelessness, and fear.

CRANKY: I find myself facing a ... problem.

RBB: What kind of problem?

CRANKY: A difficult problem, Professor. It is hard to speak of it.

RBB: What's the matter, Cranky? Cat got your tongue? If you have something that's eating you, spill it.

CRANKY: You know that I am in the habit of ... deleting certain things from Crankyland.

RBB: Yes.

CRANKY: I have been accused of deleting ... someone.

RBB: Someone?

CRANKY: Yes. I have been accused of murder.

RBB [voiceover]: This was a new one on me. I knew that Cranky was in the habit of combing through Crankyland and deleting things that got in the way. I also knew that lots of Crankizens complained about it, and accused one another of getting stuff deleted. I'd been accused myself. And I knew that people claimed to have bene injured in Crankyland, or by Crankyland, or combinations of the two. But I'd never heard that Crankyland had gone so far as murder.

RBB: I see. But why come to me? If you need a lawyer, I can't help you. I haven't practiced for sixteen years, and I never did homicide defense work.

CRANKY: No, I don't need a lawyer. I need your help.

RBB: For what?

CRANKY: Someone is trying to frame me -- to set me up. I think that they want to take over Crankyland.

RBB: And you want me to --

CRANKY: Find him, or her, or them, and stop the plot before it gets too far.

RBB: You know, I'm out of the detecting business. I left it after that last case.

CRANKY: I know. I appeal to your devotion to Crankyland and your friends here, all around you. This place is important to you, Professor, though you pretend that it is not. I created it, and you benefit from what I have created. You owe me!

RBB: Cranky, the last time we talked, as I recall, you owed *me.*

CRANKY: You're right. I did say that.

RBB: And you still do.

CRANKY: Don't do it for me, then. Do it for Crankyland.

RBB: Well, I suppose I could use the distraction, especially now.

CRANKY: I will take care of all expenses, and I will pay you generously.

RBB [voiceover]: I pretended to think about it, but I knew what my answer would be. Despite all my resolutions never to dabble in detective work again, I knew that I had to take the case. He was right -- I did owe him for creating Crankyland, and I didn't want to see the Big Purple Guy go down for something he didn't do.

RBB: I'll do it. But, Cranky, understand a few things. First, I work alone. I'll report to you when I feel like it and how I feel like it. Second, don't try to pull my strings. Third, if I find out that you did it, I won't conceal it and I won't try to get you off the hook for something you did.

CRANKY: Agreed. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

RBB: Don't push it, pal. Now, bring me up to speed. Who got killed, and who's trying to tie it to you?

[end of chapter one]


o Responses to this message:

o Post a response to this discussion thread


Back to the Casablanca forum