Oh, you ask what the hell is the ‘Neighborhood’? Heh, lemme see if I can get this to make some sense. See, the headspace of your average Joe is disorganized, but simple enough that if you take a peek – like I like doing – you can usually tell things like ‘ok, this pile of whatever is this guy’s fears’ or ‘these pictures on the wall are her memories of childhood’. And so on. For psychics, it tends to be a little different. Like, you spend so much time poking around in other people’s heads that it makes you more conscious of what you’ve got between your ears, capice?
So, knowing how easy it is to mess up someone’s mind, you find you want to make it so no one can do it to you. Makes sense, right? Now, you can set up ‘walls’ and such. That’s fine as far as it goes, but what I did – and what most psi’s that would tell me did – is organize their mindscape. I relate it like this: You can put a moat around a castle, but knowing what the inside of that castle looks like lets you put even more defenses inside.
Now, when I designed mine, I stuck to imagery I knew. Stuff I grew up with, that I was comfortable with. Stuff that meant something to me. It helped make it more ‘solid’. And what’s more familiar to a young kid growing up in the Family way than his own neighborhood? You learn the shortcuts, the territories of this gang and that gang, what shopkeeps will give you a smile and a piece of chocolate, and who’ll chase you out with a broom. By the time Uncle Paulie set my parents up, I thought of our neighborhood like my own private reserve. My kingdom. It’s a child’s thinking, but the feeling never left.
So, my mindscape – at least partially – is my Neighborhood. When I’m hurt, when I need to get my head straight, I go inside, and ‘walk’ around. It’s safe and comfortable…for me. If you break in against my will, and you find yourself there, well….you’re fucked.
Long story short, after a few hours there and a couple days of sleep, I’m back in the game, baby. Which is good. See, I have a coffee date to look forward to. Yeah, that’s right. The other night, I was in our usual spot in the D, jawing with Mel and Ash Leopard. Who has an EXCELLENT rack, by the way. Just saying. Anyway, we were joined by this knockout called Variation. Tanned, curved in all the right places, whip-smart but laid back. Ex-Widow, as it turns out…but not the psychic, ‘I’m crazy so I’m gonna feed your mind to a woodchipper’ kind. Hallelujah. I could do without more crazy, lemme tell ya.
Mel and Ash were really pushing for her and me to hook up. I mean, REALLY pushing. This isn’t the first time for Mel trying to set me up, so I took it in stride. Hey, they’re my friends, and they worry – I guess – that I’m lonely. Heh. Not likely. I mean, I’m not the kind of guy that’s ever really had problems with the ladies when I set my mind to it. I can turn on some serious charm when I want to.
What got my attention, though, was that Variation seemed to take it in stride, too. A lot of women would get annoyed, but she seemed relaxed and cool. I thought I sensed at least some tentative interest on her part, so I suggested her and I have coffee some time. No pressure, just ‘let’s see how that works out’. She seemed to like the idea, and there we were. Then in wanders some blonde bureaucrat that Variation knew from her Widow days named Hawkins. Man, this broad was aggravating, and it seemed like her and Variation had some serious bad blood. It was a damn entertaining show. Variation didn’t take any shit from her, and Hawkins just couldn’t cope with it.
I like a woman that can take care of herself. She left me her number with a warning that failure to call would have a negative impact on my health. Heh. Not a chance. Even if we don’t hit it off, coffee with her should be fun.
No comments:
Post a Comment