Kiss of the Spider Woman's Sister

When John Morely had been younger, his brother, Derek, had let him watch Emilio Estevez in the film 'Repo Man'. Not normal viewing for most 10-year-old boys, but then, Derek had been kinda busy; nailing the babysitter.

Ten years later, and John now found himself shadowing Emilio's footsteps as he began a career as a Debt Collector for the town of Woodford, Northumbria. He worked for National Gas; a multi-award winning energy provider for most of Britain, and one which liked its customers happy, but prompt with their payments.

It was not a romantic job. Little old ladies would hit him with canes and frames the minute he tried to turn off their gas supply. Still growing mountains of men, would leer at him, without quite threatening him, and the real desperate housewives would shake newborn babes at his cowardice and lack of humanity. No, it was not a romantic job - just like Emilio had shown him.

Then there was the 'not quite real list'. The 'not quite real list' had been given to him by Twoie-Talfryn, his boss, he supposed. Twoie, was the wily Welshman, given the chore of initiating John in the ways of the Debt Collector. At 5'7" he prided himself on being the same hight as the international supermodel, Kate Moss. Sadly, he also believed he had similar sex appeal, even though his greased curls were thinning on his liver-spotted pate, and no-one really knew which way his eyes were looking. Still, John had to admire the 'hit list' effectiveness on this one man Debt Collecting machine; he made it look easy (well until it came to the 'not quite real list').

The 'list' covered all those energy customers who were not really customers, but were using the supplies. Simple cases of someone paying an engineer to hook 'em up to the mainline gas supply for free, was one thing; not all of the 'list' covered these cases.

Standing before the eerie silhouettes of the tents, Twoie motioned for John to stay close by.

"What if the tigers get us," he half whispered, half whimpered.

"No animals in the Circus these days, laddo."

They crept through the darkness; under guide ropes and around tent pegs. Past the amber glows cast by the light from the caravan windows, they stooped; until Twoie poited out the ingenious collection of pipes and wires leading from an opened manhole cover.

"Bloody, buggers have a guard... Look, see?"

The older man pointed to the pin-point flared embers of a cigarette in the shadows between two caravans. Gradually his eyesight made the darkness form into a different shade of pitch, and the guard's outline stood a little deeper in the blackness.

"Like bloody ninjas, these carnie folk," Twoie muttered, "go and distract 'im."

John was good at throwing looks, but Twoie was better at hurling them back; so he jogged into the gray space, quite casually, and asked the shadow if it had a spare cigarette.

"And you are?" came the unexpected amusement of a womans voice.

"Freezing, thanks! Have you got spare one, then?"

Not replying, but physically relaxing somewhat, the woman proffered the dying portion of the well used smoke. John accepted it; moving slightly behind her as he did so, like some kind of dancer, leading her to turn away from the pipe-pit beyond.

He took another bitter puff and discarded it before the roll-up burnt his fingers. She took out an old tin that glinted in the darkness, by some distant light source. Methodically she began to roll another cigarette.

"With the Circus, are you?" he tried to small-talk as he caught a glimpse of Twoie dashing past.

"Yup."

"You don't talk much; are you the Snake Charmer, then?"

"Nope, haven't got one of those... got a Spider Woman, though."

"Bloody Hell!" he laughed. "I bet she's a pleasure to know!"

"Well, yeah; she is my sister."

"Ahh, so you're the pretty one?" he tried flattery.

"Yup. No tattoos, no snakes, no elephantism..."

She cupped her hands to her face to shield the match's strike against the breeze, and in doing so, illuminated the deepest, bluest eyes John had ever seen.

"...still want to make out?" she laughed.

John gulped, feeling the agreement enter other parts of him as he pondered her offer.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Like Carl Lewis, from the blocks, Twoie watched the bearded lady sprint out of the darkness in hot pursuit of a very fast John. Maybe he would make it as a Debt Collector, after all; lord knew, the boy had the turn of speed required.

(771 words)