Friday, January 7, 2011

The Outlandisher - Chap. 14 A Highlander in Harlem

Gerremy McButler's life had taken so many turns in the last 24 hours, his head was still spinning.  Sitting in a holding cell in a NYC police station,  he almost felt that the last 12 years hadn't happened and he was back to his drinking days when he had inhabited a few such places, in a little less confused state than he felt at the moment. 

Well, one good thing he could say for this whole mess...he was finally in his world and he would know what to do as soon as he could get out of this place. He had already placed a call to Allaine and left a message.  He was trusting that his partner, who lived in California, would have some one over ASAP to bail him out.
He wondered where crazy McFraser was at the moment?  They had both been cuffed and hauled off, but in separate cars.  The last he had seen of him, it was taking four police officers to get the tall, protesting highlander into the back of a police cruiser.   Hopefully none of the cops had any knowledge of the Gaelic because, even with his limited knowledge of the old Scots,  the kind of profanities being hurled at them would have made Mel Gibson blush.

How the hell had they landed in this mess?  Was it really only 24 hours ago that they had found themselves dazed and sprawled, one on top of the other, on the floor of  an almost empty, dark, unfinished loft in Harlem in the middle of the night?   Almost empty, that is, except for the antique mirror and some other familiar pieces of furniture, art pieces and other items he recognized as his. 

Actually, one on top of the other was not correct.  He was lying face down on top of Jamie McFraser, in a classic  69 position.   The highlander had unceremoniously shoved him off, cursing all the while.   The one thing about being around McFraser was that he, Gerry McButler,  was a choir boy by comparison where profanity was concerned.   He doubted anyone would believe him, though.

After checking out the loft to make sure they were alone, he'd had to sit the agitated McFraser down and explain the world he was about to find himself far removed from 18th century Scotland, but to a stranger, no less crazy.   The fact was that he had no idea what had happened or why some of his belongings were in this strange place.  McFraser suggested it might have something to do with a certain Captain of his Majesty's Dragoons and McButler had grudgingly agreed.   They had also agreed to make their way to Gerremy's apartment and try to find out what was going on.   McButler was still dressed in the Captain's tight, and now ripped, uniform and McFraser was.....well... just Jamie McFraser, he of the fiery red hair and all that accompanied being him and where he came from.

After stuffing several small items of his he had found in the apartment in his coat pocket, they made their way down the dark, rickety stairs into the street.  Gerremy also made a mental note of the address in front of the building so he could send someone over later to retrieve his belongings.  He only hoped he could retrive it from the jumble of thoughts that were now clogging his brain.  As a back up, he'd ask Jamie to remember it too!

McFraser's eyes were like saucers from taking in everything around him.   Nevertheless, the highlander was smart enough to keep quiet and not attract notice, if that was even possible.   This could be a hairy situation for two strangers without funds at this time of night in this part of town, at least until they could find a friendly sort who would let him use their phone to make a call.  

The city that never sleeps sure looked to be sleeping, at least on this block, but it was not too long before they encountered a group of shady looking sorts who looked to be in the middle of a drug buy.   They might have been able to backtrack quietly had not a large rat run across his path, causing him to halt in his tracks with a loud intake of breath.   McFraser sensing  the sudden tension in him quietly pulled out his dirk as one of the three strangers turned and saw them.
Short Black Man:  Motherf__ker....?

A second man in the group, a pudgy white man with a closed face,  dispassionately looked them over.

Pudgy WM:   It's a little early for Halloween ain't it fellas?

The third man in the group, a tall,  muscular black dude, started laughing.

Muscular Dude:  What we gat here bra?   A coupla fruit faries playin dress-up?
(turning to McButler)  Whatsa matter?  You girls lookin to score some coke?

McButler sensed rather than saw McFraser's arm shoot out and take the speaker by the throat.

JMcF:  (growling)  Do I look like a girl tae ye, mon ami?

Stupified, Gerremy watched the gun come out of the shorter man's coat before his own sense of preservation asserted itself.

Putting his hand on McFraser's shoulder,  he came forward.

GMcB:  Bro didn't mean anything by it,  Jamie.  Just his way of bein' friendly,  right man?  (to the man with the gun)   My friend here is from out of town and not familiar with the etiquette yet.  We're not looking for trouble.  We'll be on our way.  No harm done, eh bro?

Muscular Dude:  (swallowing)  If Queenie here ain't serious, then what's the sharp thing pokin' ma belly?

Short Black Man:  (laughing)  Since she got a head on you,  could be she get a boner for you Cornelius!

Muscular Dude (Cornelius):  This aint' no boner, bra.  Dis big, red Sally gat a stiletto.

JMcF:  (mimicking the man)  Nae bra!  This thing here is called a dirk whare I come from!

GMcF:  Yeah, well he's upping the ante (pointing to the short man)  with that gun in his hand!  Ye ever seen one those Highlander?  It goes bang' then ye're dead!

Jamie looks at the gun and the man holding it, makes a calculation and without skipping a beat...

JMcF:  Not one like that, exactly, but Cornelius here will be no less deid by the time he pulls the trigger, so if he values his life, he'll put it away and leave us to go on our way.

Short Black Man:  Not a chance Sally.  I'm itchin to pull this here trigger.   I gets to kill you mother f--cker AND then I gets to comfort Corni's sexy bitch when she's cryin her eyes out?  (to his friend)  That okay with you Corni?

The white man of the trio had been standing observing the situation all this time.

Pudgy White Man:  Ain't no one gettin killed on my watch tonight fellas!  

At the sound of those words all hell broke loose and they found themselves suddenly surrounded by bodies swooping down on them from all directions and the loud blast of sirens approaching with a screech of tires.

Jamie McFraser had put up one hell of a resistance and Gerremy had come to his aid by pulling him off the policeman he was trying to throttle.  He'd only gotten a  hard elbow to his left eye for his trouble.  It seems they had luckily (or unluckily) stumbled on a drug bust and been booked for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.  

No matter how hard he'd tried  to explain it was all a mistake and told them to talk to the Short Pudgy white guy who'd witnessed it all,  he was not having much success with anything tonight.

When he had tried to explain who he was to the desk Sargent, he would have none of it, saying he'd never heard of Gerremy McButler.  Gerry had even gone so far as telling the Sargent to call his wife and ask her if she had ever heard of him, citing some of his movies, but it had only made the old grouch madder and so here he sat in the cell awaiting bail.

Things were definitely not looking good at the moment...but at least he was home and he had a way with words and knew with further explanation it would eventually be okay... and Allaine would know what to do.    But damn it he was fucking tired of people not knowing who he was!  Perhaps if he'd played Bond...?  

Anyway,  all he wanted now was a hot shower and his bed and he'd worry about the rest tomorrow.  He could hardly wait to show Mr. Bigshot McFraser his own place and let him see what his world looked like for a change!   He would introduce him to Gerry World and everything the two words embodied and see what the big Scot would make of it.

On that thought he leaned his head back against the wall, shut his now purpling left eye and started laughing at the absurdity of those thoughts.

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction that exists only in the twilight zone of the writer's mind. Any and all resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

Songs out of tune, the words always a little wrong...Canzoni Stonate

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