Noir Izola: The Itching of the Stitching

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Ten days after the attack and I can’t keep my fingers off the stitches.

The story continues with the repeated calls for the man who attacked me to be reported to the police. So I went to the police. I’m reminded of a bit from Chandler that was quoted in my first novel: ‘I spent last night with the police. It was their idea.’ That was Marlowe. If I were Marlowe, the concussion would have happened while I was on a case. Instead it IS the case. The police told me to return on Monday when I could talk to the cop who was at the scene. But what happened at the scene?

I was just stopped by a guy on the promenade, who asked how my ear was. Do you remember me? he asked. No. No, I did not. After he spoke for a while he began to seem somewhat familiar. I have another witness. He saw what happened. He said I was extremely happy, as in in a great mood, not as in terribly drunk, and that there was no reason for what happened, for the attack.

More importantly, he described more of the scenario. I was unconscious, he estimated, for a minute and a half. I was very white, he said. He was the one who took me into the bathroom so I could see that my ear was pretty badly damaged. He described my reaction to seeing that it was more or less torn from my head. I was surprised, I recoiled. Maybe I said Holy Shit. So the cops came, or a cop came. The cop had no idea of my condition–this guy said he thinks the cop didn’t see the ear. He also said that at first Gee-whacky left, but then returned to tell the cop that I was looking for trouble, that he was guilty of nothing. He also said that while I was unconscious the guy Ž was with kept repeating It’s nothing, It’s nothing. Apparently some people thought it might be worse than it was. He said the bartender was quite shaken up.

Of course, I know that Ž went to the bar to apologize the next day and that he went again a few days later to tell the bartender not to tell the cops what she saw.

A friend of mine is lending me his pepper spray in the meantime, in case Ž comes gunning for my like a recrudescence of Tommy Udo.

3 comments on “Noir Izola: The Itching of the Stitching

  1. Saša says:

    Kiss of Death is the title of the movie with Richard Widmark as the sociopathic Tommy Udo. He is gunned down by the police, survives, but gets arrested. This could easily end up being Gee-whacky’s fate as well and depending on his future actions, the title of the next blog entry could easily end up being The Kiss of Pepper.

    Like

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