Tales from NeoNoir: Pastel Persuasions

     I feel the spacecraft sputter and stall as it hits the Hangar floor. The woosh of air over the scratched glass top as it opens causes the breath to reenter my lungs. You get what you pay for, I tell myself as I flip 10 Neopoints to my Grundo pilot.

     “Sorry there Zaf, needed to get the thrusters looked at after the last fuzzle attack.” The grizzled old Grundo pockets the coin without a look back. His fingers flying over the controls of the craft, checking all the readings.

     “No sweat Zygorax, we’re here. Can I swing a ride back to Central in a couple hours?”

     “Sure thing,” Zygorax smiles, pulling out a pair of goggles, “I’m heading over to the Supply Deck. May find a few things to patch up this old bird at Weaponry or Armour. Just take a look for me there.”

     I flip the collar of my jacket up, the chill still clinging to my bones from Meridell. The space station is not the warmest of locations but the thought of Uzzie fires me up. Pressing the button for the Recreation Deck, I wait for the lift to arrive. My thoughts drift to the smell of roses and a soft pastel tail, when the lift doors open and I’m standing face to face with Mrs. Plume, my old secretary.

     “Zach!” She trills, “What a surprise!”

     “Cecilia,” I muster some enthusiasm to say, “A pleasant one I hope?”

     “My dear boy, I see you’re still grey as the day is long, but it’s good to see you out of that office. What are you doing here?”

     I begin to speak, but am interrupted by a trill voice shouting at Mrs. Plume.

     “GRANDMA! I want to go HOME!” I look down to see her little grandson peeking out from under her wing.

     “Flit,” She scolds, “Grandma is talking with Mr. Zaffa. You remember Mr. Zaffa? Say hello.” With a slight push she places the small baby Eyrie in my path. His indignant stare nearly causes a chuckle to escape my lips.

     “Sorry Zach, you know kids,” Cecilia shrugs and continues rambling, “I had just taken him up to watch the latest Gormball match which went into overtime, we are well past his bedtime. What brings you here this late? This station is filling up with the most riff raff I’ve seen in a while! Why I just saw two shady Meerca’s creeping around the Rec Level I could have sworn they were…”

     “GRANDMA! I WANT MOMMY!” Flit screams. Both Cecilia and Flit’s feathers fluff in annoyance. I use the opportunity to circle the old bird and place myself square in the lift, pressing the “Recreation Deck” button.

     I cover my ears and miss the end of Mrs. Plume’s train of thought.

     “Cecilia, it was good seeing you,” I interject, “Apologies, but I’m late for an appointment.”

     She opens her beak to reply, but the hangar lift doors woosh shut quickly. I am relieved her grandson gave me an out to make it on time to Grundo’s Cafe for my meeting.

     The Recreation Deck is abuzz with rowdy Gormball fans. It sounds like Farvin III won in a surprising upset against Thyassa. The gambling fans have taken their winnings and are shouting varying encouragements at the players who are now trying their luck with Splat-a-Sloth.

     I weave my way through various Neopians as they thin out of the Rec Deck. Usually by Midnight NST, the Station turns into the nesting grounds for the seedy Neopian underbelly. I would like to get Uzzie out of here before then, so only a few hours with the pastel princess.

     The aromas wafting out of Grundo’s Cafe rumble my empty stomach. How long has it been since my marshmallow coffee? It seems like a lifetime ago, but I’ll have to wait until the Soup Kitchen opens back up tomorrow morning before enjoying any grub. The sole Neocoin in my pocket is a blatant reminder of my grey demise.

     Scanning the crowd, I spot the flattened ears of Uzzie as she sits with her arms crossed talking– more like arguing— with two Meerca’s perched one on top of the other. Elbowing my way closer to her table, I hear her seething whispered murmurs, the tone so unlike the demure calm from my office a week ago.

     “... wha’d I tell ya? Scram! … he’ll be here any…”

     “Mrs. Skeith,” I drawl, side-eying the Meerca’s to my left but keeping my focus on Uzzie. Her sunrise aura is magnetic in its vibrancy. The Meerca on top of the other hops down and sneers to his friend.

     “Guess ‘e’ll need to…” he punches the other slightly taller Meerca in the shoulder pointing towards the exit, “‘Jet! Can’t be bothering such an illustrious couple.” The stress on “illustrious” feels aggressive and I turn to face the brown Meerca fully.

     “Do you have more to say to me?” I deadpan, looking between the Meerca’s toothy grins fully and trying to place them in the foggy recesses of my memory. Hadn’t Mrs. Plume mentioned something about Meercan riff-raff?

     Uzzie places a paw on my elbow, drawing my gaze back to her lilac one. My breath catches at the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Please,” she implores, “Let the trash take itself out.” She side eyes the smirking duo. “We have matters to discuss.”

     She gracefully smooths her periwinkle ruff and fluffs her ears, shifting her seat at an angle away from the two Meerca’s as the one taunts back again.

     “We’ll be seeing you, Mrs. Skeith” the taller of the Meercas jeers. “We can wait for that gem, ‘Aden.”

     I can feel more than see the two shuffle off. The tension in the air diminishes in a rush as Uzzie’s posture relaxes as she sets a paw under her chin to speak with me.

     “Mr. Zaffa, I had been looking forward to our meeting all week. Do you have any information for me?” My gaze drifts from her pert nose over her relaxed hands to that perfect little ruff. I have to shake myself again before answering.

     “Mrs. Skeith…”

     “Uzzie,” she blinks up at me under hooded lashes and I can feel my tail twitch.

     “Uzzie,” I contemplate how to approach the near lack of information I have for her, but puff with pride realizing what I had learned at Meridell Castle.

     “It was a long week, your husband is a Skeith of set routine. Do you even know when the Bank Manager sleeps? He sets his schedule like clockwork, and leaves no gap in his day… how did you even meet? How did he break away to even win your affections?”

     I had let myself ramble, feeling more agitation than I could recall in recent memory. She seems undisturbed by my line of questioning and takes that petite little paw out from under her chin, and rests it on my spread one on the table.

     “Mr. Zaffa,” her smile could not be any more radiant– I think to myself, “The heart wants what it wants.”

     She pulls her paw away and it feels like the sun has been blotted out with a Nanka Potion.

     “Rest assured, I would do anything to determine where a break in my husband’s routine is, but do you know what has pulled him away so intently for the past couple months?”

     I recenter myself, turning my professionalism up to an eleven and begin again, “It took some doing but this very evening I found myself in a room with him, Snargan, and King Skarl.”

     Her body goes rigid, “He… he saw you.” Her tone is dead. Her whole body seems to freeze, “Did you ask him about me?”

     “Uzzie,” I take the opportunity to place my own paw on her cheek. The movement has wafted her rose soap scent over my way and my spine stiffens, “Look at me.” Her gaze feels icy under the lavender hue, “My credo is not to out my clients. Ever.” I stress the last word and I can feel her body relax under my paw.

     She reaches up and grasps my paw which rests on her cheek. Uzzie rubs my paw as she gently pulls it away, but does not let go of it as she lays our paws together on the table this time.

     “As I was saying,” I begin again, she is drawing a lazy circle over my thumb driving me to distraction. “I was in a room with the three Skeiths. But the King was shouting as I left Snargan’s keep, something about a big treasure move in three weeks.”

     Her ears perk up ever so slightly, but she continues to stare at my paw as she draws those distracting lazy circles. “Three weeks…” she whispers as if lost in thought.

     “I believe your husband is stressing over an important castle matter.” I flip my thumb over to rub her paw in return. “Do not fret, I bet after those three weeks are over, he’ll be bringing you the biggest bouquet of roses. A gift to say thank you for waiting so patiently.”

     I try to smile but can feel my mood turn grey as sullen as the rest of me. This was it. The ray of sunshine who walked into my office a week ago would be gone.

     “For all your trouble, can I offer you a refreshment Mr. Zaffa?” She sits up straight to smooth her ruff, which I assume now is a nervous habit. Cheese Manicotti or Beef Rouladen? You have been such a service to me.”

     She reaches up to wave down a waiter, but she is looking in the opposite direction from the bedraggled Mutant Grundo slinging a platter of Deep Fried Gormballs to a table just a few over from us.

     I turn in the direction she is facing. By the exit, those two Meercas turn and smile at each other as the one places a blue cap on and the other adjusts a pair of goggles. Where do I know them from? I can almost place it when she speaks up again, reaching over to place her paw at my elbow.

     “Mr. Zaffa, Gargarox has almost made his way over. Have you made a decision?”

     The gruff Gormball champion lumbers his way next to the table, grumbling about losing in the first round before asking, “Order? We just ran out of Brangerplex.”

     “Oh, I’ll uh, take the Cheese Manicotti.” I mutter as I am lost in thought as Uzzie speaks with Gargarox, placing her order.She says something to appease the Gormball players ego which causes her to giggle. The trilling sound sends a zing of awareness through me, and my grey haze begins to lessen.

     “Oh and Gargie, two Grobleen Fruit Punches if you please.” Her aura is shining bright. I force a smile, knowing she’s only happy to have an answer about her husband’s whereabouts. But what if that is not all that’s going on here… something feels off. My instincts are rusty but something has the back of my neck itching.

     We enjoy our food and my stomach settles into contentment, Uzzie is all smiles and fluttering lashes. As we say our goodbyes, my pastel Usul places a paw on my grey chest.

     “Listen Mr. Zaffa, would it be possible for me to pay you to watch my husband for another month? I want to make sure there really is nothing else going on with him. I will pay double your usual fee?” She blinks up at me as she draws lazy circles. “Just send me a neomail if anything seems different? It would ease my heart oh so much.”

     “Of course Mrs. Skeith.” I turn back to professionalism. “I can officially put you on retainer.” My mind was ringing with the amount of money about to hit the bank balance too. Maybe it had been kismet that I had seen Mrs. Plume this evening.

     “Uzzie, please.” She giggles.

     We walk to the hangar elevator. The Rec Level has definitely thinned in the hour we sat enjoying our food. The enthusiasm from the Gormball match has waned and the echo of disappointment from Splat-a-Sloth barely reverberates on the empty floor.

     “Which level?” I angle my head to ask Uzzie.

     “Hangar Bay please, I have much to think over at home.” She smiles at me as I hit the Hangar button for her and the Supply Deck for me to find Zygorax, hoping he hadn’t left me stranded.

     “I’ll be in touch via Neomail.” I say as I step off on the Supply Deck, I turn to wave goodbye to my ray of sunshine.

     She flashes me a smile and a wave, both of which go cold an instant before the lift doors shut. I feel a twinge of unease. Something isn’t settling right… but maybe it’s just the Cheese Manicotti.

     I check the Space Armoury first, thinking maybe Zygorax got new blasters for the pesky fuzzles that plague the Station. The shop is empty so I turn back to the lift. I spot the old Grundo tapping on the glass and giggling at something in the Robo-Petpet Shop.

     Zygorax is still giggling when I approach, “Gotta love a good Blobagus fight!” I turn to see two glowing Petpet balls tangled in a wriggling heap in the window. To each his own, I suppose.

     “Zygorax, mind getting me back to Neopia Central for some shut eye?”

     “Sure thing Zaf,” he says with a cough, “just got a new thruster on the ship. Should be smooth flying back into Neopia!”

     We make our way in silence to the Hangar Bay. I feel the disquieting sense of unease lingering in my gut when I finally slide into my seat on the ship.

     “Check one, check two…” Zygorax flips some switches, the lights onboard flicker and settle. The domed glass topper of the ship finally settles over us. “Clear for take off, you ready Zaf?”

     Lost in my own thoughts, I mutter, “Ready as a spinner at the Wheel of Monotony, ‘Rax.”

     The Grundo chuckles as the ship reorients itself to head back into Neopia Central. I gaze out the window, not really seeing until I catch the smallest pastel movement. My spine straightens as I see Uzzie, ruff all asunder… yelling at those two Meerca’s again.

     Knowing I can’t get Zygorax to spin us around fast enough, I stare at the three as they fade from view. The Meerca duo seem alert, the one in the blue cap jumps on top of the goggled one to get eye level with Uzzie when it hits me.

     Why are the infamous Meerca Brothers, Heermeedjet and Meerouladen, so interested in my Uzzie?

To be continued…