Martoons

Cast of characters

Dame

Mr Go

*

Earlier that evening.

Damion made his way back to Go’s apartment with the groceries. As soon as he entered the stairwell, the smell hit him: Pungent; so acrid it made him squint.

He flashbacked instantly to the aftermath of a car accident he’d seen as a kid…

As his father skirted the family vehicle past someone else’s mangled wreckage by roadside, young Damion’s fascinated eyes peered out into the darkness.

Only the rotating beacon of the emergency vehicle provided flashes of illumination – and for a fraction of a second, little Damey Wamey caught a horrifying glimpse of the collision’s victim:

A crumpled girl sprawled on the adjacent pavement outside the car and burnt like a toasted marshmallow.

Nobody had said anything – not his parents; not Donna.

Dame had been unable to wipe the morbid image from his mind for three days. When he’d arrived home from school that third day he wept.

The scene largely faded after that but branded his deeper memory forever, evidenced by occasional recurrences, such as the one right now here in Go’s stairwell: Burning human flesh.

Horror. Fatality.

He darted up the stairs like a jack rabbit. At the fourth floor landing, the door to unit 44 was ajar.

“Mr Go, what’s going on?” he called frantically through the crack. “Open up!”

That’s not like Damion Go thought. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied, sounding almost irritated. “I’m right in the middle of cooking up dinner for us, remember?”

What was up with his foreign friend? Go usually admired Dame’s level-headedness, yet he’d never seen his Canadian buddy hysterical like this.

Go had his hands full organizing the dishes for the meal but shuffled over to the door, closed it, slid the chain off and re-opened it.

“You okay boss?” Damion asked, hurrying in and looking around, huffing and puffing, and almost dropping his grocery bags.

“Why?” Go responded. “What is the problem? What is wrong with you?”

“You didn’t … burn yourself did you?”

Go was puzzled and remained silent as he resumed arranging the middle of the floor for the meal.

“I smell something burning.” Dame put the grocery bags down where Go had already laid down dishes.

Go waved him off. “Okay okay okay! I am best cook. I never burn food. Carbon can cause cancer.”

”If I singe even the edge of a piece of meat, I throw the whole thing out. Come, sit down. Let’s eat.”

They sat on opposite sides of the tight layout of bowls and side dish saucers.

Dame stacked his already-washed lettuce in a little wicker basket. Go dished out two healthy-sized bowls of rice.

A small side saucer of soy bean paste and another of raw garlic bulbs punctuated the lay out.

Go quickly transferred a heap of cooked bacon from the burner element onto a plate and removed the appliance to the kitchen.

The two were so hungry that for the duration of dinner the outside world ceased to exist.

The lettuce, rice and the side dish contents disappeared like in a time lapse video reel.

Dame and Go finished up about fifteen minutes later and belched in tandem when a fire engine siren could be heard out in the street.

A moment later, a fireman was at Go’s door, axe in hand asking if there was a fire.

* What will the fireman say? *

“Ayeesh!” the irritated occupant uttered.

“What is it about this apartment and burning smells and fires? My friend here just thought the same thing…” He invited the firefighter in momentarily for a shot of soju.

“Anyway, obviously it was a false alarm,” the firefighter said, waving off the full shot glass. “Sorry to bother you. We get a lot of these.”

“Usually it’s these new-fangled fire alarms – too sensitive!”

Go waved him off. “I disabled that thing long ago. I smoke like a chimney in here every night without exception. It was going off constantly, driving me batty…”

Firefighter reciprocated the wave-off. “This was different.” He looked puzzled.

“Somebody outside thought your place was ablaze and you were trapped inside. They called from the nearby phone booth and insisted we come.”

“Who reported this?” Go’s face was all screwed up and puzzled-looking.

“We don’t get that information. Dispatch simply tells us where and when to go and we do. Thank you and have a good night.” He left immediately.

Damion and Go had a good chuckle about the incident.

“Maybe I did cook that bacon a little fast,” Go said, “but I did not burn it! Never! Ayeesh! I can’t believe that people around here don’t recognize the smell of bacon.”

“These days they worry about everything.”

He looked down, shook his head, and waxed philosophical. “The tough times for this country are over. We should all celebrate and enjoy!”

He swallowed his last gulp of soju. “How you say – eat, drink and be merry?”

Dame hadn’t said anything for a moment. He was deep in thought. Something had just occurred to him.

* What just occurred to Dame? *

*

Tomorrow: Dame replays scenes from his mind.