SHARKEY AND THE JABBERWOCK – Chapter 9 – “Sharkey Meets Alice” by Richard F. Yates

[So far in this story, I’ve had several different plot-lines moving and shaking and doing their own things. In this episode, we see two of those lines cross, finally. If you haven’t read the backstory, go HERE and catch up. If you’re ready to move on, then let’s move on… —RFY]


Sharkey parked his sedan and tossed his hat on the seat before closing his car door. It was already 4:30, so he was half an hour late meeting up with Jensen and Schitt, but he’d sent them a text saying he was running behind. He had Schitt order a rare burger for him that would undoubtedly be cold by the time he got to it.

Sharkey pushed open the door to Speak-E.Z.s and stepped into the dimly lit pub. A few regulars gave him half-hearted “hello” waves before curling back around their drinks. A girl with long blond hair, who Sharkey didn’t recognize, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, got up from her bar-stool. She dropped a fifty on the counter and headed for the door. She glanced at Sharkey as she passed him and smiled. As soon as he caught her scent, his eyes went wide. He smelled magic.

He hadn’t smelled it in years, but it’s not something he was likely to forget. The last time he’d tussled with a witch, he’d lost a partner. A witch in town was bad news, if not for anything she was up to, then because of the things she might attract. The Hungry Things. Sharkey was certain that her scent hadn’t been at the apartment, but whatever had made that mess might have been lured to town by her.

The girl pushed through the door and out into the afternoon sun. He was tempted to follow her—ask her what she was up to, (witches were always up to something,) but he heard Schitt yelling from their regular booth.

“Hey Shark! Your burgers got icicles hangin’ off it. You can chase your tail later!” Sharkey swallowed, hard, then walked over to the booth.

“Poisitive I.D. on the dental for all four vics,” Jensen said.

“Any surprises?” Sharkey asked. He waved his paw at Janice behind the bar and held up two claws (with some difficulty—paws weren’t meant to work that way,) and Janice nodded.

“It was the tenant’s niece and her friends,” Jensen said.

Sharkey nodded, chewing on his frozen burger.

“What’s our theory for this one? Ritual murder?” Schitt asked. Janice set two beers in front of Sharkey and patted him on the shoulder.

“Forensics found missing organs—hearts, brains. We’re thinking demonic slaying,” Jensen said.

Sharkey glanced back at the door. The witch’s scent was still strong in the room. “I’ve got a different theory,” he said, then took another bite of his burger.


[Next week, we’re back with Adam and The Knights of 58th Street. Until then, don’t be a stranger! (Or Sharkey might have to hunt you down…) —RFY]

—Richard F. Yates
(Primitive Thoughtician and Supreme Bunny Lord of The P.E.W.)

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About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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