The Duct Tape Groove (First Half)

The Duct Tape Groove

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.”
Rip.
“Up above the world so high. Like a diamond in the sky.”
Rip.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.”
Rip.
Noah wiped at his brow and smiled triumphantly. “Finiiiiiiiiiiished!” he sang, admiring his work: a five-pointed

star made entirely out of duct tape, and stuck to the table’s surface.
“Aaaaaaaaah, what a work of art! A tribute to the muses! A MASTERPIECE! And so freakin’ cool!” he yelled.

Ecstatic, he sprung from the steel chair and flung his arms through the air, like he’d suddenly burst into interpretive

dance. Not that he had the build for it, anyway; despite his tall and lithe frame, not a single muscle bulged from his

worn Eagles jersey as he flailed about. His stringy hair – red as a tomato – whipped his face as he spun into a pirouette.
And he slammed face first into a wall.
“Uwah! Who put this wall here?!” he asked, rubbing his nose. “Unacceptable! Something like this is hazardous to

one’s health! That means it’s my job to remedy the situation!”
With a passionate gleam in his jade eyes, Noah raised one of his rail thin arms. A large bracelet hung loosely

from each of his wrists – to the untrained eye, at least; no, he wore a thick roll of duct tape like jewelry, with the dull

silver surface catching a bit of light overhead.
“A nice, thick square of tape should make a good cushion,” he reasoned, standing up once more. He leaned forward,

analyzing the wall like some super sleuth. “Now all I have to do is position it exactly where the average person would

likely crash…”
He turned to his right, and faced the wide mirror on the wall. Were they still watching him? No doubt about it;

no one in their right mind could tear their eyes away from his magnificent dance!
Noah cleared his throat and stood at attention. “Excuse me, kind sirs,” he said in a spurious butler voice, “but

would you be so kind as to allow me the pleasure of departing from this interrogation room? As you’re no doubt well aware

by now, I have done naught to earn thine ire…also, I’m hungry.”
No one answered. Naturally.
Noah rubbed his hair in exasperation. How long had he been in this room? An hour, two hours, a thousand hours?

They’d all started to blur together; that steel chair, the pair of office chairs those guys had used earlier, the wooden

table, the blank – and deadly – walls…and the buzzing of that bright light overhead only reminded him of how high electric

bills had gotten these days.
A slim smirk stretched across Noah’s lips. “Heeeeeeeeey…if you don’t let me out, then I’ll tape this mirror thing

up so nobody can see in, and then you’re gonna have a rough time peeling it all off, ‘cause men usually have short

fingernails and you’d be hard-pressed to find a woman who’s willing to ruin her nails just to clean up your mess, and it’s

totally un-chivalrous for a man to ask for a woman to solve his problems anyway.” He took a deep breath. “It’ll suck, is

what I’m trying to say.”
Noah turned to the door – to his surprise, the doorknob twisted back and forth, and the door cracked open. “Oh ho,

looks like my persuasive powers worked again, eh? No surprises there; my tongue is that of the angels!”
And before his eyes, the door slammed shut again.
“H-huh? No, wait! I didn’t mean that! I’m not sacrilegious or anything! I love God, and Jesus, and all their

pals! Moses, not so much, but only because we’ve got some bad blood between us! Hey! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!”
Noah stroked his throat. If he kept shouting like that, he’d lose his voice…again.

With a wry smile across his face, Noah – under the careful supervision of a sandy-haired officer – walked down the

dim hall. “Whew. So glad to be out of there,” he declared, winking at the officer. “Know what I mean? It’s not like I’m

guilty of a crime or anything.”
The officer, though keeping a straight face, shrugged. “Yeah, well, you can’t be too careful. Anyone can break

the law.”
“Even you?”
“No, not me. I’m an officer.”
“But of course,” Noah agreed with a bow.
“Anyway, it doesn’t look like you’ve done any real harm according to reports – but still, you should be more

careful from now on, okay? Doing things like that’ll put you on the fast track to some hard time.”
“Yes SIR! I shall follow your shining example!” Noah tilted his head. “Errrrrr..didn’t catch your name. Mind if

I call you Jeff? You look like a Jeff. Yep, I’m gonna call you Jeff. From now on, you go by Jeff.”
The officer pointed to his uniform, and his name tag no less. “Actually, my name’s –”
“So we’re agreed, right Jeff?”
“No, it’s –”
“Jeff, Jeff, Jeffity-Jeff! Noah and Jeff are the best of friends! Drop-kicking evil in the solar plexus,

lalalalalalala!”
“Jeff” sighed. “Yeah. I’m Jeff.”
Noah danced a quick jig as he and his escort moved into the station’s lobby. Funny how simple and unassuming it

looked, considering the gravity of the job: a few oak chairs, a few cluttered desks in the corner, file cabinets stuffed to

the breaking point with muddled sheets, and of course the occasional policeman darting from one place to another, all to

the majestic ringing of a symphony of phones.
“Oh ho, so protecting Southtown is keeping you all busy, eh?” asked Noah, folding his arms like a saintly sage.

“Ahhh, I commend your efforts! Angels of justice, armed under providence – I should know, since I’m one myself.”
He turned around – to his surprise, Jeff had already left.
“How rude. Leaving me alone to fend for myself; I don’t even know my way around town,” he continued ranting to no

one. “Maybe if I’m lucky enough to find that lady again…”
He peered out of the window. The sun started to wobble below the horizon, dyeing the sky and the nearby buildings

with a pale shade of garnet. Only a handful of cars passed through the streets, while a few dozen townspeople trotted

across the sidewalks – some, stopping for a quick chat with good friends; others, laughing pleasantly as they bought fruit

from the bustling stands.
Southtown…it’s quite idyllic, Noah thought with a stroke of his chin. Glad I decided to come here.
He shifted his gaze to the right; for a split second, he’d caught a glimpse of a familiar face, frowning fearfully

and body a-tremble. Could it be…? Yes, it had to be! How could he ever forget about her?
With a skip in his step, Noah sprinted towards the door – just as the door swung wide open, nearly knocking him

flat on his back.
“What in the…oh. Oh no, it’s you!” he wailed, holding his hands over his face.
Him, indeed. Sergeant Robert Winslow: a burly beast of a man, his shaven head just a few inches away from the tip

of the doorway, and his arms so thick the slightest twitch might have ripped his uniform. A thick forest of a beard

circled his lips, and a ragged scar ran along his temple.
“The scary black man!” cried Noah. “You’re not gonna lock me up and throw away the key, are you? Actually, I

think I’d prefer that –”
“Enough playing around,” blurted Winslow, his deep bass voice rumbling the station’s walls. “You’ve caused a lot

of trouble today, and I need to make sure you don’t make any more.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “A-and how are you going to do that, Mr. Scary Black Man?”
Winslow’s brow twitched. He raised a hand, and reached for Noah’s scrawny neck…

What am I gonna do…?
Poor Billie. No matter how much she worked her brain, she couldn’t come up with an answer; with the sun diving

below the horizon, her fears bloomed in full force. Anxious, she clutched her crown, and massaged her skull through a

blanket of feathered blonde hair. She didn’t feel like going home any time soon, but she couldn’t just wander through town

like a beggar. Although in a few days, she might be singing a different tune.
A few bystanders walked past the outdoor restaurant, taking notice of the bespectacled young blonde (who had

recently taken to banging her head against a plastic table). The sharp cracks of each blow drew more and more eyes, each

pair gazing upon this librarian-looking lady. Collared shirt, sweater vest, pleated skirt…had she lost a book or

something?
Curious, a middle-aged man walked toward her, offering a hand in consolation. “Uh, hey there. Are you all right?

You’re banging your head a lot; you might get a headache if you keep it up, you know?”
Billie didn’t even notice. She just kept slamming her head, each strike coming dangerously close to smashing her

glasses.
“Um, are you gonna be all right?” Eager to help out, the man tapped Billie’s shoulde-
“That’s…” she muttered, her head-banging coming to an abrupt end.
“That’s what?”
“That’s…that’s…that’s…” Her body trembled violently, and the bystanders backed away as the librarian loosed some

unearthly rumble.
And then, at last, she stood up.
“THAT’S SEXUAL HARASSMENT!”
Her wild cry nearly knocked the crowd off its feet; caught in a frantic trance, she flipped the table and bowled

over her chair – and the innocent man, to boot. But he had other things on his mind at the time…namely, the cantaloupe-

sized breasts bursting from the seams just a few feet away from his head.
Billie folded her arms over her chest (and failing triumphantly to hide them); with tears welling up in her massive

blue eyes, she shook her head rapidly, trying to deny the man’s existence. “S-stop it! You’re harassing me! You’re not

allowed to do that!”
“D-do what? I just touched your shoulde-”
“THAT’S HARASSMENT!” wailed Billie (to the quiet amusement of her audience). “I-i-if you come any closer, I’ll

call the police! I’ll sue! I’ll spray you with…with…” She turned around and looked through her purse. “Where’s my

pepper spray? I never leave home without at least six cans…”
The helpful man – after failing to help at all – smiled nervously and backed away slowly. “I-I can see you’ve got

everything under control,” he offered nervously, hands held as if standing at gunpoint. “So, I’ll just be on my way then.”

He pressed his way through the dense crowd, muttering nervously to himself.
And the crowd? They just laughed; this buxom librarian had put on a show for them. Maybe if they stuck around,

they’d get an encore performance?
“I’ll sue you, too! Sexual harassment is a serious offense!”
And with that, the crowd dispersed – but not before the typical “nice rack” drifted through the air.
Billie exhaled heavily and dropped her arms. As usual, she’d lost her cool at the mere thought of being

“observed”. Such was the role she’d played for years – the infamous “Steel Librarian” of Southtown, a legendary figure in

more ways than one. Whether a person, man or woman, made a comment or a passing glance, her immediate response was to flip

out and call the cops – an option made a bit more accessible thanks to her good friend and guardian angel, Rob.
She pressed a hand against her face; hot to the touch, and no doubt a rosy shade. When would she learn to control

herself – or, alternatively, learn to accept her body issues?
“That was a pretty sweet show you put on there!”
Billie leapt in shock and wheeled around; there, perched on a distant table like a hungry kitten, sat a familiar

face.
With familiar duct tape bracelets.
Noah raised a hand and smiled. “Yo! What’s up, Boingy?”
Billie bit her lip so tightly she thought she might rip right through it. “That’s not my name!” she shouted

indignantly. “And that’s -”
“Sexual harassment, yes, yes, I know. I heard you the last time we met,” countered Noah with a sly grin. “Anyway,

I’d say it’s about time we cut the theatrics, no?”
Billie folded her arms. “I told you, I don’t want anything to do with a deviant like you.”
“Don’t be so rash. We could form an incredible team, you know – you and me, doing justice like no other.” His sly

grin stretched into an almost fiendish smirk, and he leaned forward like a lion ready to pounce. “I’ve been looking for

someone like you for a while; what, you’re just gonna leave me hanging?”
“I don’t even know what you want.”
“It’s simple. I want you to help me do justice. The way I see it, you’re the only one who can…with my help, of

course.” He raised an arm, showing off one of his duct tape bracelets. “The world’s in need of patching up. And I need

your help to do it.”
But Billie would hear nothing of it; half-annoyed and half-abashed (Noah hadn’t taken his eyes of her chest even

once), she turned her back on him. “W-whatever you’re offering, I’m not interested. Go home.”
“Awwww, but I don’t have one!” wailed Noah. “Fine. If you won’t listen to reason, then I have no choice!”
Billie continued on her way, moving steadily down an empty sidewalk. Noah, meanwhile, looked around hastily. “I

said, then I have no choice!”
From around the corner, a massive form lurked onto the scene…with a sack stuffed with groceries in tow. “I can’t

believe I agreed to this,” declared Winslow with a salty shake of his head. “And it takes you way too long to make your

point.”
“R-Rob?! What are you doing?” asked Billie.
With a slow sigh, Winslow set the groceries down on a nearby table. “Change of plans. This guy here’s been

released into your custody.”
Billie’s stomach did a barrel roll. “Wha? B-but this guy, he sexually harassed me!”
“So have half the men in this city, according to your calls,” Winslow countered. He turned briefly to Noah, who

pawed at the air in true feline fashion…for some reason. “Look, I know we’ve gotten to know each other over the past few

months, but you can’t just keep calling the police every time someone looks at you. If I wasn’t there, you’d be getting

fines by now.”
Billie fiddled with her fingers. “But those were real incidents…”
“Meow,” added Noah in the distance.
“No they weren’t.” Winslow moved a bit closer to his full-figured friend, but knew not to enter her personal

bubble. “We have enough problems on our hands as it is; we don’t have time to waste on your wild claims.”
“Did you guys hear my awesome cat impression?” asked Noah.
Billie looked into Winslow’s eyes. Despite his nightmarish frame, his almond eyes held almost tangible warmth, and

an almost innocent gleam. But the bags under his eyes suggested otherwise; they codified his age, as well as his weariness

– a proof of his recent work here in Southtown.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, her face reddening. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. It’s just…w-well, you know how

I am by now. I can’t help it.”
“I could sure go for some milk,” said Noah.
“It’s fine. I’m not asking you to change all of a sudden,” said Winslow. “Just try to think of others around you,

all right?” He shot a glance at the stretching Noah behind him. “Besides, I need you to take care of something important

for me: keep an eye on that guy for as long as you can. Tell me if he does anything suspicious.”
Billie peered past Winslow’s arms, just in time to catch a glimpse of Noah trying to cough up a hairball.
“I know he’s weird, but something about him bugs me,” he continued. “Call it a gut feeling, but –”
“I think I know what you mean. I mean, a guy like that…” She peeked past Winslow again, watching as Noah rubbed

his back against the table and purred. “He has to have a few secrets, right? Y-you don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”
“If he is, then I’ll take care of him,” offered Winslow in a decisively dark tone. He grabbed his groceries and walked

down the sidewalk to his dusty hatchback. “You know who to call.”
He slammed the door behind him, and with a burst of rumbling fumes drove down the road. Billie watched him ride

into the sunset, flanked by the shops and stands she’d come to know and love, by the townspeople she’d come to fear and

revere.
She’d lived in Southtown her whole life. And yet, despite knowing the humble burg down to the very last pebble and

blade of grass, despite the warmth and familiarity of every smiling face, despite the bastion of peace that would one day

become her final destination, she’d never been more afraid.
Something was coming.
CRASH!
Billie hopped in place, and turned to the source of the noise: Noah had tipped over a table, and lay flat on his

back.
“Heh heh. I wanted to see if I’d land on my feet,” he explained. “Sooooooo, I guess we’re spending the night

together, eh? Looking forward to it.”
And here it was. Wow, that didn’t take very long.

(to be continued)