• Killer Tim
    • Part 2: Three's a Problem
    • Part 3: Ninth Avenue
    • Part 4: Peru Avenue
    • Part 5: Toast
    • Part 6: Mrs. Pellegrini
    • Part 7: Charlie
    • Part 8: 2D
    • Part 9: Smith
    • Part 10: Cece
    • Part 11: Quarter Moon
    • Part 12: Interview
    • Part 13: Mieke
    • Part 14: 2D Ex
    • Part 15: Logs
    • Part 16: Steiner
    • Part 17: Number Five
    • Part 18: Cold
    • Part 19: Intern
    • Part 20: Coffee
    • Part 21: Sloth
    • Part 22: Tennessee Street
    • Part 23: Error-correcting Code
    • Part 24: Villa Lobos
    • Part 25: Entrance
    • Part 26: Cloak
    • Part 27: Meeting
    • Part 28: Fog
    • Part 29: Boodle
    • Part 30: Drafted
    • Part 31: Domino
    • Part 32: Quartet
    • Part 33: Skippy
    • Part 34: Blisflix
    • Part 35: Billikin
    • Part 36: Chronicle
    • Part 37: Sutro Heights
    • Part 38: Conference
  • Third Sons
    • November 1959
    • December 1889
    • December 1930
    • April 1890
    • December 1959
    • August 1964
    • June 1890
    • January 1967
    • March 1931
    • January 1967, continued
    • September 1898
    • November 1898
    • Winter/Spring 1943
    • January 1974
    • April 1899
    • January 1974, continued
    • October 1899
    • March 1944
    • November 1899
    • January/February 1974
    • June 1900
    • April 1886
    • June 1900, continued
    • October 1945
    • March 1974
    • May 1901
  • Else
    • O'Jitterys Catch a Movie
    • Winnie the Publican
    • Interview with the Alien
    • Gibberal doggerish
    • Dialog
    • Story
  • Mandolinoleum
  • About
  • Contact
Dennis Richard O'Reilly
Killer Tim, part 20: Coffee

“Liar,” Karen laughs. Tim’s expression doesn’t change. “Just water?”, she asks. “No kidding?”

“And milk,” Tim says. They’re sitting in Tim’s kitchen. Karen has been home two days from SF General. She already abandoned the bandage around her left shoulder.

“Coffee?”, Karen asks. Tim shakes his head. “Juice? Kool-Aid? Dr. Pepper?”

“Who’s he?”, Tim asks.

“Did you just make a joke?”, Karen asks. Tim’s expression doesn’t change. “I thought not,” Karen says. “You say you’ve never had a beer?”

“I’ve never had alcohol,” Tim clarifies.

“You went to college?”, Karen asks. Tim nods. “What kind of college graduates people without making sure they got ‘em drunk at least once?”

“I never saw the point,” Tim says. “Intoxication is poisoning, despite the euphoric side effects. The inherent--”

“Stop,” Karen interrupts. “It’s fun. I’ve seen you having fun.”

“No bars,” Tim replies. Karen looks confused. “You want to go to a bar,” Tim says. “With me. No bars. They’re full of sick people.” Karen starts to speak, then hesitates. “Alcoholics,” Tim says.

“How do you feel about coffee drinkers?”, Karen asks. “Are they sick too?”

Tim shakes his head. “Stimulated,” he says. “Sedentary. Social. Somnambulant. Soft-tissued. Asoporific. Silicated. Supinnine. Subterfugean.” Tim hesitates. “They usually come in threes.”

Karen waits for Tim to explain. She’s surprised, amused, puzzled. Several long seconds pass before Tim continues: “Words collide. Inside. Have to come out. No doubt.” Tim is almost whispering. “Three, two, one. It’s done.” He looks up apologetically. “Sometimes, they rhyme.”

Karen smiles slightly. “Where are you from?”, she asks. Tim doesn’t reply. “I mean,” she adds, “you’re not like other San Franciscans.” Tim stares at the top of the kitchen table. “None I ever met, anyway. That’s a good thing.”

“How many?”, Tim asks. Karen shrugs. “San Franciscans,” he continues. Karen waits. “Have you met?”, he adds two seconds later.

“About half, I’d say,” Karen replies. “I used to tend bar. Some were pretty hot spots. You meet a lot of people. You’re right about the alcoholics.” She sits down. “Most people like to be around other people. Bars are built-in company. Makes you feel less lonesome maybe, for a while.”

Karen pauses before continuing: “That’s most of the people, anyway. Then there’s the plain-old drunks, and most of them are harmless, when they’re not driving.” She leans toward Tim. “But yeah, they’re sick, I guess. Lots of people got something wrong that won’t ever be fixed. Just trying to make a life. Doing the best they can.”

Tim nods, still looking down. “Let ‘em have a few laughs,” Karen adds and smiles.

“Okay,” Tim says. “I will go with you for coffee.”

Karen stands. “Let’s start with decaf,” she says. “Wouldn’t want to stimulate you unnecessarily.”

-------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Karen and Tim are standing in line at a coffee shop on Fillmore. Karen is surprised at how smoothly Tim blends in. Five minutes after that, Karen and Tim are seated at a table, waiting for their coffees to cool. Karen starts to say something, stops suddenly.

Over Tim’s shoulder Karen spots Detective Blisflix walking toward them. Just behind Blisflix is Detective Smith. Both are smiling broadly. Blisflix walks toward Karen and Tim. Smith sits at a table across the cafe, facing them. “Ms. Mieke, how are you feeling?”, Blisflix asks.

“What can I do for you, Detective?”, Karen replies.

“Just a courtesy call,” Blisflix says. “We were in the neighborhood.” He ignores Smith.

Blisflix also ignores Tim, who is staring at the tabletop. Karen looks over at Smith, who looks back blankly. “Thanks,” Karen says finally. “I feel safer already.” She looks toward the cafe’s front door. “You look more like the donut-shop type,” she says.

“Normally, I’m a chocolate-glazed guy,” Blisflix tells Karen, “but I’m running a half-marathon after lunch, so...” He pats his ample belly and looks at Tim. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”, he asks her.

She sips her coffee. “Good day,” she says.

Blisflix looks from Karen to Tim and back to Karen. They both ignore him. After a long silence, Blisflix casually joins Smith at her table. Tim and Karen sit in silence, feeling the detectives’ eyes on them. “You haven’t tried your coffee,” Karen says finally. Tim dutifully takes a sip. “How do you like it?”, Karen asks.

“Compared to what?”, Tim replies.

“To something you like,” Karen says.

Tim considers this, then shrugs. “I like water, I think,” he says.

“You think?”, Karen smirks.

“I’m thirsty, I drink water, I’m not thirsty,” Tim replies. “Is that ‘like’? I like not being thirsty.”

“The taste,” Karen says. “Does it please you?”

Tim answers flatly, “Why does pleasing me matter?”

“You like walking,” Karen counters. “It pleases you. It makes you feel good.”

“It makes me think good,” Tim says. “Is that the same thing?”

“It might be,” Karen replies. “Do you like being with me?” Tim just stares. “You seem to,” she adds.

“I do,” Tim says. “But not in here.”

“We’ve given the cops enough of a show,” Karen says, keeping her eyes on Tim. "Maybe next time we’ll try tea.”

Tim looks at the shop’s door. He springs up the moment Karen moves her chair back. Tim waits for her to lead the way out of the coffee shop. The detectives follow them.

As they walk south on Fillmore, Tim tells Karen, “Thank you for the coffee. It was nice of you to ask me.”

Karen laughs, “Is this a date?”

“It’s coffee,” Tim replies seriously. Karen laughs. “You like coffee,” Tim says. “I like working. I like walking.” Alone, mostly, he thinks.

“You like being by yourself,” Karen adds as they turn right on Sacramento.

“Being with you,” Tim says.

“Being with me what?”, Karen asks.

“Almost,” Tim says.

“You’re almost being with me?”, Karen asks.

“Almost as much,” he says.

Karen stops. “You’re trying to say something,” she says. “I can tell.” Tim stops a step ahead of her. “Something about being and me and almost as much.”

“Liking things,” Tim says. “Working, walking, nighttime, you,” he recites in cadence with his steps. “Lurking, squawking, high sign, crew.”

Karen joins in: “Turkey, faulty, flight line, true.”

Tim stops. “True?”, he asks. Karen shrugs. “Not true,” he says.

“False?”, Karen laughs.

“Farouk, Dubuque,” Tim says, continuing up Sacramento. “Refute, Tobruk, mistook, derilooct, testitute, dimple-boot, Rue Detoot, sooty flute.”

Karen watches Tim march up the sidewalk, reciting from some lost volume of his imagination. Outside the world, inside himself. Nerveless.

-------------------------------------

“Evidence,” Blisflix says as he and Smith watch Karen Mieke and Timothy Rist walk up Sacramento. “We don’t have any.” Smith just stares.

“I know,” Smith says finally. She thinks, even if Cece stumbled onto something, we couldn’t take it to the DA. But I can’t just let him off. “A guy can’t kill four people like it’s nothing,” Smith says to herself, “even four dirtbags.”

“What’s that?”, Blisflix asks.

Smith laughs. “Back to work,” she says. She thinks but doesn’t say, Back to chasing after dirtbags instead of chasing after the guy putting bullets in their noggins.

Part 21: Sloth

Part 1: Tim
Part 2: Three's a Problem
Part 3: Ninth Avenue
Part 4: Peru Avenue
Part 5: Toast
Part 6: Mrs. Pellegrini
Part 7: Charlie
Part 8: 2D
Part 9: Smith
Part 10: Cece
Part 11: Quarter Moon
Part 12: Interview
Part 13: Mieke
Part 14: 2D Ex
Part 15: Logs
Part 16: Steiner
Part 17: Number Five
Part 18: Cold
Part 19: Intern
Part 20: Coffee
Part 21: Sloth
Part 22: Tennessee Street
Part 23: Error-correcting Code
Part 24: Villa Lobos
Part 25: Entrance
Part 26: Cloak
Part 27: Meeting
Part 28: Fog

Part 29: Bootle
​Part 30: Drafted
​Part 31: Domino
Part 32: Quartet
Part 33: Skippy
Part 34: Blisflix
Part 35: Billikin
Part 36: Chronicle
Part 37: Sutro Heights
Part 38: Conference

​Copyright 2020 by Dennis Richard O'Reilly -- all rights reserved
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  • Killer Tim
    • Part 2: Three's a Problem
    • Part 3: Ninth Avenue
    • Part 4: Peru Avenue
    • Part 5: Toast
    • Part 6: Mrs. Pellegrini
    • Part 7: Charlie
    • Part 8: 2D
    • Part 9: Smith
    • Part 10: Cece
    • Part 11: Quarter Moon
    • Part 12: Interview
    • Part 13: Mieke
    • Part 14: 2D Ex
    • Part 15: Logs
    • Part 16: Steiner
    • Part 17: Number Five
    • Part 18: Cold
    • Part 19: Intern
    • Part 20: Coffee
    • Part 21: Sloth
    • Part 22: Tennessee Street
    • Part 23: Error-correcting Code
    • Part 24: Villa Lobos
    • Part 25: Entrance
    • Part 26: Cloak
    • Part 27: Meeting
    • Part 28: Fog
    • Part 29: Boodle
    • Part 30: Drafted
    • Part 31: Domino
    • Part 32: Quartet
    • Part 33: Skippy
    • Part 34: Blisflix
    • Part 35: Billikin
    • Part 36: Chronicle
    • Part 37: Sutro Heights
    • Part 38: Conference
  • Third Sons
    • November 1959
    • December 1889
    • December 1930
    • April 1890
    • December 1959
    • August 1964
    • June 1890
    • January 1967
    • March 1931
    • January 1967, continued
    • September 1898
    • November 1898
    • Winter/Spring 1943
    • January 1974
    • April 1899
    • January 1974, continued
    • October 1899
    • March 1944
    • November 1899
    • January/February 1974
    • June 1900
    • April 1886
    • June 1900, continued
    • October 1945
    • March 1974
    • May 1901
  • Else
    • O'Jitterys Catch a Movie
    • Winnie the Publican
    • Interview with the Alien
    • Gibberal doggerish
    • Dialog
    • Story
  • Mandolinoleum
  • About
  • Contact