The Journeyman

The Journeyman woke up at 4:58am. Eyes cloudy, joints stiff. One cup: black, and a few swings of the hammer, none of that’ll matter.

I beat the alarm clock. 

That’s a good start.

Fuck. Thank you God.

Piss, spit, wink.

Twenty push ups. 

Grip your balls before life does.

Three emails, all spam. The Journeyman placed the the phone on the table and smashed it. He noticed five quarters on top of his fridge. 

Do payphone’s still exist?

Work was work. Hammers, wrenches, the usual shit. Pockets of time that go quickly and pockets in which doing nothing seems to take forever. At least he had a clear goal to execute.

But now, I’m home, and I have an evening.

The house is clean enough. 

Gut hurts; make a grocery list.

– Eggs

– Beans

– Steaks

– Greens

-I’m Doctor fucking Suess

The Journeyman contemplated his phone situation. Or rather, the lack thereof. He opened his wooden trunk of items not in use, and pulled out his old landline. He plugged it in.

No signal.

He added another item to his list.

– Get the phone runnin’

The Journeyman showered the dust of work off his body, shaved, and patted on some Aqua Velva. He put on black jeans, a black button-up, and his tweed jacket. Grabbing his keys and notepad, list still attached, he headed to his truck.

He perused his cd options before landing on silence as his accompaniment. He started down Macleod and watched the world roll by. Amidst the beautiful people were a lot of weirdos and freaks. More and more these days. It seemed no one knew if we should notice them or not. It’s as if by looking to close you may be inclined to join them, in whatever weirdos and freaks got up to.

The Journeyman pulled into the African Food Supply Store and stepped out of the vehicle, shutting the door with a click.

“Sandy”

He nodded as he walked in.

“You’re back”

She nodded back, eyes barely leaving her book.

Whistling lightly, the Journeyman walked to the back of the shop where the cuts of meat were kept.

“Those three… yeah I don’t mind the fatty part.”

The Journeyman glanced behind him while the butcher packaged up his selection. There was a fella a row over that was watching him.

“Thanks.”

He grabbed his steaks and turned to greet this stranger, only to find him gone. He heard the chiming of the door-bells.

Just wanted a glance I guess.

Grabbing some black beans, some eggs, and some decent looking vegetables, the Journeyman made his way to the register.

“Busy day, Sandy?”

“Not as busy as it should be. That man overstayed his welcome, never ended up buying none.”

“That one who just left? You seen him before?”

“Don’t think so. I thought you might. He was watching you, yunno. Thirty-seven and eighty-five.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Beats me.”

He passed her two twenties. 

“Thanks Sandy, have a good one.”

He turned for the door. Sandy turned back to her book.

The Journeyman had a few blocks north to travel to get to Darknight Phone and Wifi. He was one block in when he glanced behind him and saw a Chrysler with the man from the shop at its wheel.

Is this gonna be a fucking problem?

They were driving alongside both transit and industrial train lines. There was a service shed ahead to the left, and the Journeyman pulled in beside it. The Chrysler pulled in just behind. 

Stepping out and lighting a cigarette, the Journeyman stood with his back slightly to the Watcher. He exhaled and cocked his head slightly to get a look of the man stepping out of the Chrysler.

The man had black hair, almost shoulder length. Sunglasses, white shirt, blue jeans. All of it too clean. As if he was trying to blend in but it wasn’t working. His build was athletic, but thin. That of a runners. He wore a pair of white Stan Smith’s, new looking, but with mud along the sides.

“Want a smoke?”

Asked the Journeyman, turning to the Watcher with the pack held out. There was about five meters distance between them, manageable.

“I quit that shit.” The Watcher declined.

“Hmm. Pulled in here for the view I guess?”

“That’s what you think?”

The Watcher paced forward, closing the gap. Any closer would warrant a reaction, but the reaction wasn’t warranted yet. The Journeyman took a drag, and upon exhaling said,

“It’s a penny for my thoughts, if you’re asking.”

“I really hate foreplay.”

With his response, the Watcher reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife, put his left foot back and lunged at the Journeyman, knife outstretched.

The Journeyman stepped to the side and circled out a few paces. He flicked the cigarette. 

“Straight into it hey? I know I look like a million bucks but I don’t have shit on me.”

He knew it didn’t matter, a lot of freaks just got off on violence.

“I think you might.”

The Watcher re-established his footing and lunged in again. He was way too far out and the Journeyman barely had to step back.

“Clearly you’re new at this. Pass me the knife I’ll show you how it’s done.” Said the Journeyman wryly.

“Shut the fuck up!”

The Watcher rotated and swung the knife in a slicing motion. The Journeyman shot in, under the outstretched arm, and up into the Watcher’s armpit; knocking him back while isolating his arm. He twisted to his left, straining the shoulder, and with a yelp the Watcher dropped the knife. The Journeyman then rolled to the right, bringing his left elbow up and into the Watchers face.

The Watcher stumbled back in a daze, blood leaking from his nose. The Journeyman hit him with a left, then a right. With each shot the Watcher buckled and tried to back off.

“Woah-” The Watcher sputtered.

The Journeyman stepped in and pivoted, landing a hard, mean right hand. This dropped the Watcher decisively. Standing over him he asked,

“Trying to kill me, you little freak?”

The adrenaline and rage was clouding the Journeyman’s sense of self. 

He followed the Watcher to the ground.

“Wait, I-”

The Journeyman slapped the words out of his mouth. 

“Who are you?”

He started rooting through the man’s pockets. Keys and wallet. No phone. Nothing out of the ordinary. He looked down at the Watcher. He was barely conscious. He wasn’t going to get any answers out of him in this state. 

The Journeyman stood up and took a deep breath.

Slow your heart rate. 

Another deep breath.

Okay, check the car.

The Journeyman walked over to the Chrysler and tried the handle. It opened. He sat down and was met with the strong smell of tobacco.

Quit, my ass.

The car was clean, which based on its driver, didn’t surprise the Journeyman. Unfortunately, it didn’t provide him with any information. Glovebox: empty. Console: Empty. Trunk: garbage bags, rope, saw, and lime. Might as well be empty.

The Journeyman had grown tired of this distraction and wanted to move along. He kneeled down beside the crumpled man on the floor and snapped his fingers over his face.

“Hey, wake up sleepyhead.”

The Watcher stirred, focusing his eyes on the Journeyman and tried sleepily to stand up.

“Woah, nuh-uh. Better you stay down. You’ve got mild head trauma, sleep it off for a bit. Now, I’m going to leave, and I’m never gonna see you again okay? If I do, I’m going to kill you. Thats the only warning I’m giving you.”

He patted him on the chest.

“I need a verbal sign that you understand.”

The Watcher exhaled.

“I understand.”

“Good. Now sleep tight.”

He stood up, lifted his right foot, and dropped it on the mans ribs. Unlike freaks, the Journeyman didn’t get off on violence. The man had tried to kill him, for chrissakes.

He walked back to his truck. 

It’s not hard to make enemies in this world. 

So which one was behind that shit?

And on the day before the fucking ball. 

He put the car in gear and drove off.

To Be Continued.

Author’s Note:

I want to start a few series via the House of Lamont that you can follow weekly or bi-weekly. The Journeyman is a perfect place to start, as he is an ever developing character in my mind. I look forward to seeing what he gets up to, it is all being revealed to me only shortly before it’s revealed to you.

I want to emphasize that I am not using artificial help to write any of my content. I commit to continue to have human-made posts on this website.

If you enjoy this story, please share it. The more people here at the House of Lamont, the better.

I appreciate you all, have a wonderful day and stay tuned for more.