There was the train station, and standing just outside one of the little coffee shops was a face of an old friend.
It was Jo of course!
Jim hadn't seen the old drunkard in a long time!
It warmed the cockles of his heart to see Jo's old familiar face. It reminded him that even though he was trapped inside Fenwick, he was not that far from civilisation!
They laughed, they shook hands, and then they started to talk.
'So what brings you to Fenwick old friend?' said Jim
'Well I didn't want to be here not rally,' Jo responded. 'It was forced to. It happened during the night. After we ran out of G-Juice I was forced to drink gin, and I drank myself to sleep. Then I woke up on a train, I had this bruiser to my head and it was nothing to do with the alcohol. And there was this tall fellow sat next to me. He was wearing a white coat. The sight of him sent a chill right down through me. But I was so ill with all the drinking that I couldn't move or even speak, so I didn't didn't ask any questions. But I felt I had been abducted. When I was last sober I was in the flat. So someone had to of dragged me onto the train. I can only guess it must have been the man in the white coat. I don't think he was sitting next to me by pure coincidence. And he had such a sinister look about him as well.'
Jim told him the man in the white coat was Doctor Ivan Gustav.
'I have seen him as well he was hiding in the street behind the local pub. He sent me here probably to look for you? Did he just drop you off?'
Jo nodded and said he had only vacated the train an hour ago. The man in the white coat had pulled him out of the cart with his own hands.
'He just put me down on the side and walked away,' said Jo. 'I real mean fellow.'
'Yes I agree,' Jim returned. 'There is definitely something quite off about him. But he obviously brought you here for a reason. He wants us to join forces. Maybe he thinks we will be of some use to him in his operation, or whatever he is plan to do here in the city. We will find out soon anyway. He gave me this phone. He said he will call me the next time he wants to talk. So all we can do in the meantime is wait for the call.'
'And what are we going td in the meantime?'
'I suppose get something to drink.'
'I haven't got no money,' said Jo.
Jim admitted that he didn't have any money either.
'Looks like we are going to have to beg,' said Jo.
Jim agreed that begging was indeed the only way.
As they set out on their adventure together as beggars they bumped into Tipsy Neat, who was hopping on one leg. He told them he had left without his crutch, and had seven crumpled messages stuffed in his left shoe, hence the requirement for him to hop on his right.
'No time to stop lads I've got lots of messages to deliver today!'
'I just need to ask you one question,' said Jim.
Tipsy stopped hopping, then fell over onto his one side. Jim and Jo had to stand him back up.
'Already,' said Tipsy, trying to catch his breath back. 'Seeing as it is you I will hear you out! Let loose the cannons! My ears are ready for your words.'
So Jim asked Tipsy where was the best place to go to beg for beer money.
Tipsy needed a minute to think about it. He removed his cap and scratched his thick greasy hair, and after some time shook his shoulders and said, 'There is simply no place better to serve a couple of beggars than Flint Street. There is an old abandoned shed nearby.'
Jim asked what was so important about the shed.
'The shed marks the spot,' Tipsy returned. 'It's the place where beggars go discuss strategy!'
Jim was confused after hearing this. 'How does begging involve strategy?'
'Well it's one of the oldest professions in town,' Tipsy returned. 'You have got to understand the business before you can go ahead and get involved with it. There is a complex set of rules all beggars must comply with. You will learn these rules when you reach the shed.'
'Look this sounds to complicated,' said Jim. 'My friend and I just need some money for drinks!'
'And I need a new pair of socks but I ain't gonna get 'em for free!' Tipsy replied.
Jim fell quiet when he contemplated it. It was true. Tipsy had a point with that one.
'Beggin is the only way to get things done in this town,' Tipsy went on. 'And if you won't to learn how to beg you must head down to the shed, at the end of old Flint Street. There you will meet my old gaffer, Shaky Jones. A fine man a drunk to boot. He used to be in the navy, you know? He used to clean the laundry. But he got thrown out after he was caught doing business with the captains wife.'
'What kind of business was he up to with the captains wife if you don't mind me asking?' said Jo. He was curious to know what kind of man this Shaky Jones really was.
'Well he used to like dressing up in her clothes,' said Tipsy. 'Especially her underwear. Said he found it somewhat liberating, especially when out at sea. He would trade her knickers for a portion of his cigarette stash. When the captain found out what he was up to he put his boot right up the man's niagara falls.'
'Poor fellow,' Jim replied. 'It was not like he was doing anything wrong.'
'No he didn't. But the captain wasn't mad about Shakey swapping clothes and wearing knickers. No sir, it's more complicated than that,' said Tipsy. 'You see the captain was really darn hacked off when he learned from his own wife that Shaky Jones was the real father of his two sons...'
'Ah I see,' Jim returned. 'I think it makes sense now why he was kicked out of the navy. Very well. Jo and I shall head to Flint street and find this Shaky Jones of yours.'
'Well good luck to you,' said Tipsy, and he tilted his cap at Jim and Jo. 'I'll be hopping along now. Got lots of messages to deliver you see? But I wish you two gentlemen the best. Have a fine evening when it finally arrives. If you do get some money from the old begging business you will find me at the Short Tailed Fox at Bridge Street. Buy us a drink if you like! My pockets are probably as empty as yours. We can make a bet on it if you like?' When they declined his offer of a bet (What was the point none of them had money) Tipsy laughed and hopped away.
Now Tipsy was gone it was time for Jim and his friend Jo to learn the serious business of becoming beggars.
With the help of a man who thought himself to be a rabbit, they found Flint Street. And there indeed was the old rickety shed at the end of the road, just as Tipsy had said.
Marvellous!
Things seemed to be going along rather well, till they discovered that the only door leading into the shed was locked.
They knocked and called a few times, till a very rough and dirty looking fellow stepped up form behind a bush.
They guessed this was Shaky Jones - it had to be, because he was wearing a long velvet dress. It fitted in perfectly with Tipsy's exciting story about Shaky Jones naval adventures.
'That's right I am Shaky Jones,' said the dirty scruffy looking man. 'Why are you knocking on the shed and calling my name like that?'
'We were hoping you were going to help teach us to become beggars,' said Jim.
'I am no longer involved in that kind of business,' said Shaky. 'I am a painter these days. No not an artistic painter, just a man who paints walls and that sort of thing. Can you please go away?'
'We can't,' said Jim. 'We need to learn to become beggars. We are in desperate need of money you see.'
'What do you need money for, son?' said Shaky.
'My friend and I are mighty parched and are hoping to acquire a pint from the local ale house,' Jim replied. 'Maybe a beer with a shot of whiskey that would be good. But we can't get that sort of thing without money. The last couple of weeks have been rough you see and a drink would go down mighty fine right now!'
'I hear you lads but I can't help you,' said Shaky speaking plainly. 'I am out of the beggar training business. I have been for five years now. Sorry, lads. You are on your own it seems.'
'Why were you hiding in a bush?' said Jo.
'It's every man's right to hide in a bush,' Shacky returned, and he suddenly turned quite defensive, 'Now please stop with the questions! I am a busy man!'
'Well you can't be that busy if you are hiding in a bush,' said Jo. 'What's really going on here? What game are you playing with us!'
'I don't play games, you stupid boy!' Shaky shouted. He was growing greatly agitated, and started fiddling his fingers on both hands. 'I am sixty two right now, that means I am an adult. I don't play games! Now leave me be before I call the police!'
'Call the police for what?' said Jo.
'I will have you done for harassment!' Shaky cried. 'You won't hear the end of it believe me!'
Jim started to grow nervous at the mention of the police... He started to think about that DC Peddler and how a harassment charge would be the right fit of key to lock the cage on Jim once and for all. He told Jo to calm down. 'Maybe we should ask someone else for help?' he said.
But for some reason Jo wasn't ready to stand down yet. Whether it was the alcohol withdrawal at work, or something else, maybe the broken child inside of him, he just wouldn't let go of the matter and continued to press poor old Shaky.
'I am not walking away with my tail between my legs,' said Jo. Then he turned to Shaky and pointed at him with an angry finger and demanded that he teach them to become beggars.
Shaky said he wasn't going to do it, not for threats not for anything, and when he could see that he could not cool the fire of Jo's wrath he started to run away.
But because of the long dress he was wearing Shaky tripped and fell over!
Jo was soon on the poor broken man, and dragging him by his arms he pulled the dirty old vagabond back towards the shed.
Jim had never seen Jo in such a rage before...
Why was he acting like this?
It had to be the work of the G-Juice... or the lack of it! He must have been craving the stuff, the poor man! Jim full empathised with his friend right then.
'Now you will open up that shed door and teach us the sacred art of begging,' said Jo.
Shaky was quivering with fear. His face, despite the layers of grease and dirt, had turned white with fright. He started to beg Jo for mercy, but Jo wasn't having any of it. 'Open the door or I will punch you,' said Jo, raising his clenched fist and aiming it towards the man.
Shaky admitted to being of weak constitution, and that he had an acute fear of pain, and finally agreed to open the shed door.
Jo looked at Jim and winked. Later that day he said to Jim, 'Sometimes brute force and menace is the only way! That's what my Dad taught me! And my landlord when he got the bailiffs to throw me out of my home. And my ex wife after our divorce. Sometimes if you want something real bad you have got to throw your weight about!'
With a shaking hand Shaky slotted a tiny weasel sized key onto the shed lock, and reluctantly, with a tap of the fingers of his right hand, open the shed door.
Once they got inside the shed they finally understood why Shaky didn't want them to go in.
There was a full skeleton lying right in the middle of the room!
It was just lying there on full display for them all to see!
Jo and Jim's jaws dropped and they stood there like statues, while Shaky tried to explain why he was keeping a dead body inside his shed.
'She was the wife of an old captain I once knew,' he said.
'Good lord you killed her?' cried Jim.
'No she just died one day,' Shaky explained. 'I think it was the cold, or maybe the bootleg gin she used to drink. I couldn't bear to bury her so I just left her there. I wasn't expected her to rot like that. If I had known she was going to turn into a skeleton I might have considered taking her to a church, or maybe one of her relatives, like her husband. But it's too late now. I have been stuck in this shed with this skeleton for five years now. It's a sad old business, but ah well, life goes on as they say.'
'Not for her it doesn't,' said Jim.
'Look. Is there anything I can do for you not to tell anyone about this?' said Shaky. 'I didn't kill her. I just couldn't face burying her that's all. I loved her too much for that. When she's lying there it still feels like she is alive... I used to lie awake looking at her beautiful face, until the ants got her and she turned into a skeleton. That happened six years ago. I agree it does look a bit macabre, but it was all done in good spirit. I kept her there in the shed out of love. Surely you understand, lads? Please go easy on me. I have a kind heart. Don't report me to DC Peddler I beg you! I won't last in prison. Please, out of the milk of human kindness just let me stay here with my love till my own day finally comes. I am an old man. I don't deserve to be punished. I wouldn't last in prison. And I know Peddler. He would lock me up for years. He would make sure I was put in with the bad boys. It would be over for me! I am a good man and I don't deserve to be thrown to the dogs!'
'Jim listened to this speech and an idea started to brew inside his head.
'Okay I have heard you out now listen to me,' said Jim. 'I am willing to make a business deal with you.'
Shaky said he was listening and so Jim proceeded:
'How much money do you have on your personage? Twenty pounds? Is that all? Can you get more? Okay good! Now listen to this. I won't tell the police about this mess you are in so long as you promise to furnish my hand with twenty pounds at the end of every week. Do you hear me? Every Sunday I want twenty pounds off of you. Does that make sense? Can you do it? Good! That's a deal then! You supply me with a weekly income and I won't stitch on you to DC Peddler!'
They shook hands, but Jim had one last final warning for Shaky:
'I won't tolerate no nonsense from you Shaky. Don't be late on the payments! You miss one payment and I will be heading straight for the police.'
Shaky promised that he would never be late with a payment, and proved it by stuffing two tenners into Jim's hand right away.
'Looking forward to doing more business with you,' said Jim, and then he and Jo left a very shaky Shaky, who was at that time, standing shaking next to his deceased lover.
After they had closed the shed door on the poor quivering man Jim and Jo both laughed and slapped hands.
'That was the easiest bit of money I have ever made!' Jim cried with elation. 'Stuff working for a living, hey, Jo? I am never doing that again! I quit my old job! Threatening people for money is the way forward from now on, what do you say old mate?'
Jo was counting the ten pound notes with a wide grin on his face.
That grin was enough of an answer for Jim.
They had done good business and decided it was time to celebrate with a pint.
Inside the Short Tailed Fox Jo and Jim spent their earnings on two pints of beer and a whiskey. Tipsy was there as as he said he would be and Jim would have bought the man a drink as well if Tipsy hadn't of gotten into a fight with Ted, after accidentally spilling the mans pint; he was presently lying unconscious on a sofa in the corner of the room. Poor old Tipsy! No more hopping around for him that day!
Tipsy was good company so they were sad for him not to be there, but the one good thing about having him out of the picture was that they were a few coins richer between them. So having a bit of extra cash in reserve Jim and Jo decided to spend their savings on one last whiskey shot.
The two friends drank into the evening but when the evening was over they were not drunk. They stared at their empty glasses with sadness, and the gloom only grew when Jim felt around his empty pockets for the thirteenth time to find that there was still nothing there. Not a note not a single penny.
'This whiskey hasn't got quite the dash and splash that G-Juice has,' said Jo.
Jim agreed.
'Nay,' Jim replied. 'G-Juice is something else my son. There is nothing else quite like it on this world. It's out of this world you could say!'
'I miss G-Juice...' Jo moaned.
'Don't worry, Jo lad,' Jim spoke up. 'I think we are going to be sorting out our G-Juice shortage problems very soon! You will see.'
'How do you know?' said Jo.
Jim showed him his phone. 'Dr Gustav gave this to me. It will only be a matter of time now and I will receiving a call from him.'
'What do you think he wants?' said his friend.
'I don't know but I definitely think it has something to do with the G-Juice,' Jim replied. "I mean it has to. Look at it like this, Jo. We know Dr Gustave because of the juice. He was leaving it in the subway for us to drink. He brought us to this city for a reason. I think he is going to make more of the stuff and he needs our help.'
'How can we help him? We don't know how to brew tap water?'
'I know. But listen,' said Jim. 'Let's just go along with things. Let's see what Dr Gustav wants. Maybe we can help him in some way. And in return he might give us a bottle of G-Juice.'
'That would be wonderful,' Jo replied. The man was almost welling with tears at the thought of gurgling more of the precious juice.
'Let's just keep our wits about us,' said Jim as he drank the dregs of an abandoned glass. 'I think in the days ahead we are going to be doing some good business here in Fenwick.'
(All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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