2021-12-24 - You wouldn't turn a blind eye, would you sir?

There's a sound of pounding on Alexander's doorway. It's mid Christmas Eve Day and no one is looking for sleuths, except for this neighborhood teen who is pounding on Alexander's doorway as hard as he can, apparently heedless of the danger he may or may not be putting himself into.

The teen is someone that Alexander may or may not be familiar with. He lives several doorways down with an uncle. The uncle tends towards being drunk and in-and-out of work, but he's still probably the most stable person in the teen's life. The family is always hurting for money and was the recipient of a small Christmas ham from the food drive courtesy of Saint Mary's church, as well as several small gifts. He's wearing one of them now, a heavy blue jacket that is clearly new-to-him, if not new-to-life.

GULP. Literally, the kid's adam's apple goes UP and then DOWN again. "Mr... MR. Clayton," there's a distinct glance at the knife he sees all sparkly in that crack. "I, don't know if you know me but, I'm Rafe," And the teen has a NAME! "It's - it's my uncle. He's gone and I... I was told maybe you could help?" Something about Alexander tells Rafe he needs to keep talking, and so he does. "He went out last night to get some smokes, but then he didn't come home. I checked all the bars but like - he was gone. I don't have much money but," he stoops down and lifts up that Christmas ham. "I've got this?"

A nod when Alexander asks for his name, with a suprised flicker. Apparently people usually take the name at face value without asking further.

The kid looks nervous as he glances inside. "No, man, y'know. I need you r help but..." He lets it linger before blurting out, "Louie said you're dangerous and a little crazy." Which is not something Rafe wants to be in the same room as apparently. "I got to be safe - but uncle does drugs you know? If I go to the cops they'll ask questions and I will get removed. Christmas is a shitty time to get shifted into the system. I only got another year before I'm eighteen. Just - uncle always comes home, even if he's high or drunk or shit. The guy at the corner store told me to fuck off when I asked but you...?" He trails off, eyes wide and hopeful.

Rafe rattles off a few locations - the corner store just off of Elm, the sketchy one that doesn't always check IDs, a bar, and a dealer's name who lives in the nice part of town because who would suspect the person in the upper-middle class house?

When the number given he has to bobble for his phone to type the number in. "OKay - I willl You sure you don't want me to come?" The offer is genuinely made.

Poor Alexander is in for a rough day. Corner store guy tells him to fuck off, Alexander has to be convicing, and at the end of it Alexander learns that uncle was there this morning, buying a six-pack. Then the bar, where he's told that the uncle was kicked out at last call for being too drunk. Finally, the drug dealer's house where Alexander finds the uncle. He's surprised at the man's presence.

He also looks super confused at the tale Alexander tells about Rafe looking for him. "What the fuck? He knew I was going to be gone, I texted the idiot last night and told him to have dinner ready by tonight."

When Alexander gets home things are... concerning.

For one, his door is open. And it looks like it was violently done. The door jam is busted all too pieces and it won't be staying latched on its own until actually fixed.

Cockroaches. And that's... it. Which is probably concerning as there should be two other bright spots of life inside the house.

Neither Bluebell nor Luigi are there.

When Alexander enters it's a mess. The small Christmas tree has been knocked over and a handful of the twinkly lights are smashed. There are scratch marks on the floor where the carpet has been dug at. Maybe Bluebell? Even more alarming is the empty cage with a dusting of feathers at the bottom.

Rafe is sitting in his uncle's house, the smell of cooking ham coming out of their ill insulated house. There's laughter and rap music within. Chances are that he's invited a few friends home and his uncle's poor stock of alcohol is getting depleted steadily.

There's a cascade of swears inside the household as the sterio and lights explode. It doesn't take long for the front door to be trust open to let the smoke out while nearby the front window is slid open with a smash of sound.

The teen standing at the door is about three inches shorter than Alexander and is not Rafe, "Woah, /fuck// who are you man?"

Congratulations Alexander - the teen's nose is broken. He stumbles backwards into the room with his hands coming up over his mouth. Inside there are two other teens. Rafe, and a third one who is over by the window.

Rafe goes pale when Alexander comes through the doorway and then he cuts and runs for the backroom without waiting to hear from Alexander.

It's a very very close thing. Rafe ALMOST makes it outside the back door before Alexander catches him and throws him up against the wall. "Fuck, fuck, I didn't do anything man!" His arms are up and he covers his head, trying to protect what he considers the second most valuable part of his anatomy.

"Dude! Dude!" Rafe is pissing her pants as he cowers as well as one can pinned and with a knife on him. "I don't know anything! There was a note - a letter. It told me what to do and included five hundred bucks. Said if I didn't that they's slash my tires. Fuck - I can't pay for new tires!"

"My bedroom man!" Rafe says, continuing to cower. He loses control of his other set of bowels and the smell waifs through the hallway as a brown stain spreads along the paint. "Sock drawer, top left. There, there's a blue envelope with the rest of the money tucked inside.

Rafe's bedroom is nearby and it's pretty obvious it's the room of a teenager. The bed lays on the floor frame-less. The covers are a mess of sheets and blankets - with the pillow uncovered. Clothes and bits and pieces of teenage life litter the rest of the area. A hand-me-down dresser sits in the corner with the top drawer closed tightly, but the other two hanging open just a bit with clothes spilling out.

Rafe isn't going to wait for Alexander to leave - HE is running. In fact, all three teens are getting the fuck out of the house.

The blue envelope is one that anyone might pick up from the greeting card aisle. There's no words inside, just the hand scribbled note. It says what Rafe said it did. "Get Alexander Clayton, 13 Elm Drive, out of the house. Tell him your uncle has gone missing and offer payment. Act afraid. The $500 is yours. If you don't, I'll slash your tires."

The FEELING on the envelope is a mix of anger and violence. Even more clearly comes a face - a face that Alexander is familiar with. He saw it, adjacent to a woman who was in his office just a week ago. She was asking for Alexander to follow her husband and the woman who came with her was a best friend. A redhead, at the place she seemed to be oh-so-concerned about her BFF.

He feels where she is too - downtown, about Safewayish.

Poor Alexander - he doesn't find any hair nor father of the animal's whereabouts. They aren't downtown. It's still useful information because at least there's one place they aren't.

The redheaded woman, now to be known as Ellen, doesn't move much either. She stays in the confines of the supermarket. Presently she's standing in the aisle that holds the pastas. She has the name brand in one hand and the generic in the other. It's an All American choice to make. Is the dollar difference worth it? Will they be basically the same or dramatically different?

Why can't they just have her usual brand in stock?!

Ellen is a not-glimmer-er. That ball of mental power that slams into her is more than her poor little mind can take. She collapses right there in the pasta aisle, one of the bags bursting open as it hits the ground and she ends up on top of it.

Others yell as she slams into the ground in a dead faint, the call going up for someone to call 911, NOW!