Carpe Diem

Petharic leaned against the lamppost, resting with a casual indifference as he reached into his jacket and withdrew a small notebook. He quickly scanned the day’s to-do list. It had become a ritual, the way he commenced each morning sorting and prioritizing his goals. Without this list he lacked focus and a lack of focus put him in a foul mood. Today he was particularly proud of his progress. It was not yet eight-thirty and he had already crossed-off the first two tasks. He looked at the next item,

 three: carpe diem.

 Petheric pursed his lips and thought about that one, letting his gaze rest upon a group of urchins playing stick-ball across the canal. “Hey, Mister!” one of children waved to Petharic. “Why don’t you come join us?”

 “Bugger off, kid!” Petharic called back, “I’m busy.” He took a pencil from his pocket and circled number three and drew an arrow, repositioning it further down the list.

That brought him to the next item,

four: Kill doppelgänger

Petharic checked his watch. On a typical day he’d have had plenty of time to get to the station before the train pulled in at 8:45 however, unbeknownst to him, the train had made an express run from Bump due to reports of bandits on the tracks. He knew at once by the crowds departing the platform that he was late and may have lost the advantage.

The great locomotive hissed after it’s long journey, venting steam as the engines cooled. The passengers had already debarked. He scanned the windows. The cars appeared empty. Petharic shifted his gaze, searching the people milling about the platform. “Hey, aren’t you the lout that just shoved me aside down at the other end of the platform?” a small man in a pretentious stovepipe hat queried with the bravado of one who believes themselves to be safe in a crowd.

“Which way did he go?” Petharic grabbed the man by the jacket lapels and snarled. A crowd of people turned away. The man, so cocksure a moment earlier, reddened with the realization his beliefs regarding security were an illusion.

“East,” the man spoke without pause, all pretensions dropped, his voice shaking under the intimidation. “After he bumped me he went east.”

Petharic threw the man to the side and hurried along the platform, taking the east exit. He scanned the streets. Where would I go? It was an express, no stops between Bump and New Babbage. He drinks a lot of coffee; four and a half hours; he’d be too paranoid to use the onboard water closet; Petharic snapped his fingers; he’s looking for an alley.

Petharic increased his pace, making for Abney Parkway scanning the alleys between the buildings as he passed.

“Mr. Petharic!” It was the urchin, Johnny Dawkins, hurrying along Abney Parkway from the west. “I was on my way to the train station to see if I could find you,” the boy continued as he approached. Petharic held up his left hand, signalling the boy to stop. The doppelgänger had stepped from an alley only a dozen paces behind the boy. The two men faced each other, the boy an equidistance between them. Both men drew their sidearms; a single shot split the air.

Petharic holstered his gun, took his notebook in hand and crossed number four off his list. That brought him to five.

Five:  dispose of body

“Help me drag him to the canals before the militia gets wind of this,” said Petharic as he stripped the man of his gun, wallet and watch. “We’ll let the wiggyfish take care of the mess.”

“What’s on your list after that?” The boy asked, removing the dead man’s expensive sunglasses and putting them away for safe keeping.

“Bugger,” Petharic cursed after consulting the list. “This one again. I always have trouble crossing this one off the list. I’ve been deferring it for months.”

“What is it?” the urchin asked.

“Carpe diem.”

“Hmm..” Johnny furrowed his brow in thought. “You should blow-off the rest of the day. That sounds like it might be one we need to talk about over a couple of ice-creams in the park.”