by TheTimeTrust
Pete "the Chimp" Glover opened his eyes, his mind feeling as if in a drink-induced fog. When he used to live on the streets, he often lived in a constant state of hangover, just waiting for his next drink, his next buzz, his next escape from the hard life on the streets.
For the next several minutes he tried to stay awake, making an effort just to keep his eyelids open in the bright light around him. Finally he arose and began to wander. He was in an alley somewhere in Puerta Mibela in a place he recognized.
As he walked, he tried to recall his last memory but kept failing at it; somehow it was just beyond his grasp. He knew that some time ago he had witnessed the death of that Kristofer Schanz guy back when he was in Mandelovia, but he could not remember how long ago that had been. He hooked up with some traveling adventurer types and ended up here on La Perdita Island. He had made friends with the others in the group and had met many new friends here in Puerta Mibela as well. And that ghost always seemed to be hovering around him any time he needed him.
The ghost was not anywhere around Pete now, though. No matter. Pete kept walking up the street on his short bow-legs in his scruffy clothes toward the apartment building.
He saw Rita, the daughter of the grocery store owner, placing several bunches of produce out on the sidewalk in front of the store. He grinned a toothy grin and said hello to her. She did not answer, apparently not having heard him, and merely looking a bit sad.
Pete walked right up behind her and was about to touch her on her back, but she moved out of the way at the last moment and quickly walked back into the store, the door shutting behind her. Pete watched her and shrugged his shoulders. She must have her mind on something, he decided. He kept walking up the hill.
He found Shrivvy Bob and Woody sleeping in a storefront a couple of blocks down. He said something funny to wake them up, but they were really tired, merely pulling the ragged blankets they slept in closer to themselves. He searched all his pockets but could not find the wad of bills he intended on leaving with them. Homeless guys always looked out for one another. He made sure to remember to come back there later and give them a bit of money, enough to get them some food and drink but not enough to make them a target for thieves. Pete knew more than anyone else that money did not solve all one's problems.
The sun was still rising as Pete made his way past the Catholic school where the little kids who had befriended Pete would soon be playing. There were only two children there at the moment, however: Rosa and her little brother Enzo. They were dressed in their usual Catholic school uniforms and played on the swings. Pete stood by the fence and waved at them as they looked his way. They smiled at him but said nothing, going back to their swinging. Their little dog, Dino, ran over to Pete, wagging his tail. Pete reached out through the fence to pet him, but Dino backed off and barked. Pete laughed and began walking again.
In another couple of blocks he made his way to the apartment building he now lived in. He could not remember the last time he saw his friends, but he was looking forward to talking with them again, even if they never let him play cards (he invariably won every single game, even if he never understood the rules at all).
Pete walked up the steps to the apartment building and, just as he reached out to open the door, it flew open, knocking Pete out of the way as a very loud Mick Harrison and Lance Lorenzo walked out, arguing something about fish sticks. Pete chuckled and stepped quickly through the open door.
Instead of walking over to his nearby apartment or visiting Kit Piper and Shirley Francis in the office, Pete headed upstairs to the main kitchen and dining room area, where they used to hold small conventions when this apartment building was actually rented out to the public and was open for business.
He walked in and saw nobody there, so he sat down.
"Hello, Pete."
Pete turned around. "Ah, it's you."
"Haven't seen you in a while, Pete," said Kristofer Schanz. "Been busy?"
"I guess so. Carn't remember with whut, tho'..." Pete looked around. "Whar is everyone, me old son?"
"Oh, a couple of the guys are out on a mission in India," said Kristofer, sitting in the chair next to Pete. "Kit lined up another job in Liechtenstein for tomorrow, though, so everyone else has got the day off until later tonight."
"Ah..."
"Are you all right, Pete? You seem a bit distracted right now."
"I dunno. M'memory's not so good today. I thinks I need a rest or somethin'."
"Oh. All right."
Pete soon found himself standing in his apartment. But there was something different about it. It looked like the cleaning staff had been in there and tidied everything up.
No, it was more than that. Someone had obviously been in there and done some decorating. Pete walked around and saw some modern art prints adorning his formerly plain walls. Not his style, but he could live with it. Walking into his bedroom, the place he had just used to toss his clothes, he was surprised to see that all the boxes and wonderful junk he kept on his bed were gone. Those cleaning ladies had gone too far. Oh well, they were probably put in a spare room.
Something kept nagging at him from the inside, but Pete's mind was too fogged to realize what it was. He needed a drink.