Clouded
By Edmund Tong
“Rick, you finished yet?” A gruff voice asked.
“Yeah, comin’ out now Dad!”
It was that time of month, my parents and the Dentsons always had a night with each other. It just so happened that this month is the Dentsons’ turn to host.
Dad was always pressed with being on time, he owned a carpenter business, being on time is his trademark motto.
I sprang down the stairs, Lily was tuggin’ mom’s shirt at the front door.
“Mom, mom! I need to find my red whistle!”
The red whistle Dad got for her last birthday, along with the message that whenever she's in danger she would blow on it and he would come running.
“Oh, we can look for it later hun, I'll help you.” Mom reasoned with Lily.
All three of us got out the front door, my fingers felt cold as ice, everyone had red noses on em’. The sky had dull clouds floating over it. Dad must’ve been locking up the house before he got to the front.
Out the front was the family car, rather the family business car, covered with ‘Ashes Carpenting’ along the side.
“Are we walking or driving?” I chimed out.
“Walking, I barely make enough to pay the bills in winter.” Was the answer.
“All right, fair enough.” As we crossed onto the road together.
The Television blurred and buzzed with random ramble which I numbly absorbed. LIly and Anna burst into where Charlie and I were staying.
Lily turned to me and Anna to Charlie.
“Hey! Mom said to ask you to take us outside for a walk!” In unusual unison from them.
It was better than being here as of right now. I nodded and Lily’s hand fit into mine.
Anna and Charlie exited the house soon enough. We followed suit.
Anna and Lily took off down the road and rounded a corner, Charlie was close behind and I was lightly jogging behind them. The sun glistened under the clouds, it was going to set soon.
The two children were pointing at a RV. Parked on the side of the road. They gave a slight eye to each other, and a crack of a smile came across them.
I had to pick up my own pace to catch them before they reached the Rv.
I’ve never seen that here in the neighbourhood. The once white paint was akin to beige, metal peered through holes, complete with indentations from what seemed to be hail damaged.
The two girls were nearly about to climb to the roof from the ladder on the backside before I was able to pull them both off.
“Yep, no, no, we’re going back.” I huffed urgingly.
“Rick!” my gruff voice growled.
“Have you seen Lily anywhere? She told me and your mother she was with you going to look for her red whistle.”
“No, she never came to get me.”
Rick eyebrows raised, twisting in confusion.
My legs stuck like glue to the floor, my head spinning. Time froze, only my body responded.
Before I even noticed I was out the door with my jacket on, yelling for Lily.
I sent Rick to go down the other side of the street and Dentson to circle around where we would meet at the corner.
I ran for what felt like an eternity, yelling ‘til only a rasp was left. My eyes drew up to the clouds. Almost like a sign, the slight pitter patter of falling water. My face was peppered as I hoped, no, prayed to see Lily again.
It was deafening, meant to go on all week this damned rain. An all too familiar buzz filled the car, I didn’t remember much besides an RV parked outside a gas station fitting the description a few miles out.
I buzzed in, “Lockie, heading over.”
It was here, clear as day. A faded white RV, paint peeling off, and too many dents to count. I released my gun from its holster, a set of red and blue lights flashed to my right.
I left the car, followed by two police officers, a nod to the RV to confirm their suspicions.
The red and blue beaming behind us. Guns ready, the blasted rain blocking my eyes.
“POLICE. OUT OF THE VEHICLE NOW.”
We had circled the backside of the RV. The lights flicked on.
“I SAID, OUT OF THE VEHICLE NOW.”
The car started to reverse, abruptly stopped and jumped forward into a tree.
The duo swarmed quickly, organised and coordinated breaching the entrance.
A man, tilted circular glasses, his lip trembling was pushed out by one of the officers. The man was escorted to the back of the car, his hands already cuffed.
“Lockie he hasn’t shared anything useful, just short whispers of incomprehensible words.” Brown called, I had passed him when I sat down to watch the cameras again.
“It’s the last day we have him Brown, Oliver has to give something.”
Where did it all go wrong? I’ve failed as a husband, a father, and a protector.
Lily’s been missing for two days already. I jump for any news about her whereabouts, too much. I just sit, and sit, and sit.
What am I doing, while she can be facing the cold, the wet, and no one’s there.
Mary, my wife, has been silent ever since, locked in our room. She’s weeped every night. A ring breaks the dreadness, a ray of hope.
I reach for the phone, I’m scared, if what's on the other end of this call isn’t what I want to hear.
“Hello, Ashes here.”
“Mr Ashes, we’ve regrettably had to let him go out of our custody.”
“What?” It was disorienting those words, my heart sank like a rock dropped in a lake.
“He didn’t talk, no matter what we tried. No other evidence besides the fact he has a used RV.”
-beep-
I didn’t need to hear anymore. I knew what I had to see Lily.
I was to be set free. I kept having people ask me questions for 3 days, always the same thing.
Where are they? Why were you driving that RV? Where were you at….click.
A flash of a camera blared my eyes. I was swarmed by a lot of people with cameras.
“He’s been through a lot, please just let him rest. Let me take him home” A hollow voice of an old woman addressed them.
A small woman, her hair snow, tucked my sleeve. I was soon to be in her car again.
I was pulled back, a man grabbed my shirt, the pavement hammered my back. Chills vibertated through me, I looked at the dishevelled man, his hair hiding his eyes. He pulls me close, enough that I look into the clouds. They were full, about to rain.
“Tell. Me. Where. They. Are.” A gruff voice in a low tone.
“They only cried when I left them.”
He pulls me away, dead in my eye, a man? No something else.
I waited, he had to know where they were. Those words he said to me, all I needed to know.
A door creaked open along with a ring, he walked out holding a leash to a small dog. At the end of the driveway he paused. He lifted the dog by its collar, its legs flailed and it whimpered. He just looked at what he did, then placed the dog down and continued walking across the damp road.
If I wanted to find Lily, I steeled myself, only my wanting to see Lily safe drove me. A bag in my right and restraints in my left. I left the car.
Oliver had gone missing for three days, this alarmed the police to no extent.
I knew the only culprits with any motive was the Ashes.
I traced Mr Ashe, he would frequent a run down apartment building. Following his cars back, I stopped at the corner and watched him leave the car in the liquor store park. He wasn’t going into the store, he passed it. The only thing left was a fence with a hole in the bottom.
BEEP BEEP
A garbage truck behind me started to beep, Ashe saw us, turned around on his heel and entered the liquor store.
For fuck sake, I pulled to the left off the road. I watched, Ashe left the store with a bottle and headed in my direction.
I rolled my window down.
After a swig. “Why are you following me?” His gruff voice rang.
“I just wanted to ask you some questions about Oliver.”
“Oliver? Oh you mean him.”
“Yes, he was reported missing by his mother two days ago.”
Another swig.
“He is now too?”
His face, a touch too calm, he knew something. I couldn’t do anything right now.
“Alright Mr Ashe, thank you for cooperating.”
“No problem.” Ashe turned round and headed to his car.
“I can’t let you drive after drinking that much.”
“I’ll walk”
I was close to home, so I threw the bottle away.
How much did he know, that detective?
Oliver didn’t talk at all, he kept whispering things too quiet to understand. No matter how bloody his face was, blistering hot or bone chilling water had done nothing but cause hysterical screams.
My mind was pacing back and forth, I didn’t even remember entering the house.
I took off my boots and left them.
“Where have you been?” Rick said as he saw my flushed face.
“Yo-you’ve been drinking? I can fucking smell it. What are you doing while Mum is still crying for Lily every night?” He belittled me, for actions I did to find Lily.
I grabbed his shoulder.
“You don’t understand a thing” and pushed him off.
In the morning I walked back to the car and left to the only place that would hold anymore clues, Oliver’s house. The sky bloomed dark grey.
The door cracked open, the bell rang. Before I could knock the door opened. A small woman, her hair like snow, stood at the door.
“Yes, what is it?” Her voice was hollow.
“I was hoping to offer my colondences and wanted to speak with you a bit.”
“Ah Mr Ashe, of course, come in.”
We sat across from one another at the table, she offered some warm tea.
I partook and sipped the tea very slowly.
“I’m sorry about Oliver, we both seem to have lost something apart of us.”
“I’m sure he’ll come back, he always has.”
The news spread quickly. Anna was found. She laid unconscious at the bed in the white walled rooms of the hospital. She was just sleeping, her face relaxed. Does she know where Lily is? I have to know, I have to find out.
She awoke as if electricity was flashed through her body. She grasped at her mothers arms. Something was still wrong, she was sluggish.
“Anna, I need you to remember clearly. Do you know where Lily is?” She jumped back, perhaps my voice was too hoarse. She stared at me.
A minute or two had passed, the silence only masked by my own heart beat.
“You were there, that day, when I ran away. The sky was grey and dark.” Anna's words left marks on my heart.
I was there, I know where Lily is.
Anna was found, Brown and I were already on our way to meet her
“Lockie, shouldn't we give her a rest? She was just found.”
“We can’t Brown, It sucks, yes, but we have another child missing.”
Someone barged into my shoulder as we rounded the corner. He dashed down the corridor.
It was Mr Ashe, he was running towards the exit. His wife appeared from the room that was holding Anna, I asked her where he was going.
She explained that she didn’t know and he ran out after speaking with Anna.
The road was cold, the whirl of my siren rang moving others. Ashe could only at two places the apartment building or Oliver's house. He wouldn’t be in such a hurry for his apartment, he must’ve learned something from Anna.
Ashe’s car was here.
The front door was open, I readied my weapon. I entered silently.
A sound emanates from one of the bedrooms. As if someone was moving objects around.
I swung the corner, gun ready.
Lily layed on the ground, a bottle of black liquid next to her. Oliver’s mother froze.
“Don’t bury me, just burn my body, I hate being in this world of God's creation.”
Her hair swept and she had a weapon.
Two shots fired.
My eye had a red curtain fall over it, she lay still.
My legs exploded down to Lily. I had to get her out of this, I don’t know what she's been drugged with.
“Stay with me Lily, I’ll get you home soon.” I left with Lily.
The blood keeps falling down, I was well over the speed limit, but I had to be.
Lily was able to recover, Oliver was found within the apartment building with severe bruising and burns. The top of my eye still itches, the bullet only skimmed. Mr Ashe however, is still missing from the night he left the hospital.
A sharp gust of wind snapped me out of thought.
“Pack it up!” One of the forensics ordered.
The whole house was taped off, under collection purposes. It ran deeper than just two kidnappings. Oliver wasn’t Oliver, James was reunited with his family after years of being held by his fake mother and father, they had no names.
The rest of the team had left, Still I had no idea where Ashe would go.
-Pheeewww-
It was faint.
-Pheeewwww-
It wasn’t the wind, it was a whistle.
This creative response was to converge what the class and I have studied about crime fiction, the theme and conventions. The three types of crime fiction which evolved from one another to suit the society which crime fiction was being written for. The use of this genre of literature was for the entertainment of audiences who wished for a hero's tale which is grounded in a sense of sociatals reality. Take Sherlock Holmes the character and stories as example, a genius of mind but grounded to solving mysteries within industrialistic settings of fiction. Created in the 1800’s for rich and poor folk alike. A likeable charming character with a mind to help those in need (Wilson, P. K. 2020). A hero for children to follow which seemed achievable with enough effort. Where the suspects and contents centre about the fact of the crime not the way it was committed, key aspects of cosy crime.
As time turned, American writers got a hold of the genre. A more realistic take on the genre, where multiple suspects with their own motives and desires which are morally questionable. The process of detection by the detective being more physical evidenced (e.g murder weapons). A hardened detective who's if not almost certain seen the worst in people. An urban setting where the police are also not inept and rely on the detective but work hand in hand. Hard boiled usually also contain the why and how the crime was done, with its disturbing twists of human nature (Britannica Editors, 2016). Hard boiled crime entered prominence after the 1920’s during the interwar period where the world just recovered after World War one. Americans were not ones for wonder stories of genius esque characters. They loved the evidence based which was pieced together by some of the audience even before the text finished.
The purpose of conventions within a text is to create a uniform or a base structure which texts can conform or subvert but are always recognized as part of the genre. I had used quite a common convention of the detective for hard boiled crime, in which he would follow characters to find their true motive or true self. Done so in order to imply that the detective does not put anyone above suspicion. Timeline of events is also very important to Hard boiled crime as it dictates how the pieces of evidence fall in order for the why and how of the crime was committed. Though in this story I’ve rather left the timeline very vague as due to it being a first person between three characters. It’s done to allow time to pass which is up to the interpretation of the reader, and if time was important I made clear distinctions with references to the state of the sky. A convention which I did subvert was the constant following of the detective in the story. I chose to essentially rotate the first person between the son, the father and the detective. The father evolved into an anti protagonist or the qualities of one, where he would obstruct the original protagonist which is the detective from solving the crime. The use of a red herring is very textbook, Oliver was very obvious in nature, there in nature to subvert him to place the audience with information he knows more than he lets on. I followed the convention of lacing clues within the text for the audience who are quick to pick up to solve the identity of the culprit before the characters. Though it is quite difficult to judge how much to foreshadow in order to create enough understanding for future events when you do have a layout of the story from start to finish. The father understood the whereabouts of Lily first due to the continuous work which he’s done in order to find her beforehand as a payoff to his development. The text was a look peering into the genre of crime text with the theme of the human emotion twisting a person's mind. I had the father embody this sentiment and theme for a good person turn to whatever necessary for the people they love.
Ref;
Britannica, T. Editors of Encyclopaedia (2016, March 1). hard-boiled fiction. Encyclopedia Britannica. Retrieved 7 June 2022, from https://www.britannica.com/art/hard-boiled-fiction
Cosmo Learning, (NA), Topic: World Wars: Interwar (1918-1939) | CosmoLearning History. (2022). Retrieved 7 June 2022, from https://cosmolearning.org/topics/world-wars-interwar-1918-1939/#:~:text=The%20Interwar%20Period%20
Wilson, P. K. (2020, October 29). Sherlock Holmes. Encyclopedia Britannica. Retrieved 7 June 2022, from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Sherlock-Holmes