Mime Spent Apart

Part 12

The mime woke up to his phone ringing. He turned his head around and saw the red nose flashing on the table. He didn't remember replacing it, but he must've done it before the man who beat him down had turned up at the door. He got up nimbly and walked over to it and picked up the receiver. "Yes?" he said into the receiver.

"Hi this is me again." The voice of his client was un-mistakeable. At least, the disguised voice of his client was unmistakable. "Hi there, what would you like?" He answered.

"I'd like to go over a few things with you, if that's OK?" The client responded. The mime thought about it, it was still a few months until the assignment.

"Yes, that's fine. Obviously you like planning in advance?"

"There are a lot of variables for me to manage with this particular meeting so I want to make sure everything is straight at this point. At least, the basics. Are you confident in me asking you some questions?"

"Yes that's fine."

"What is my name?"

"Kusa"

"Yes, but what is my "real" name, the one you'll be giving at the meeting if people ask?"

For a second the mime was unable to think of anything, then it came to him, "Your name is Rick. Richard."

"Just Rick is fine." Said the voice then paused. "What is the purpose of this meeting?"

"For you to show your face, meaning me."

"Yes and what impression should you leave everyone with?"

"Just someone else from a chat room they can identify with. Another face, another personality, to match the one they had talked to."

"But better."

"But better, yes. I'm already making notes of your written personality and tailoring your 'in person' personality to best reflect your best qualities and quash anything that might.. be misinterpreted over the internet."

"Oh?" The client seemed taken aback by that, "Like what?"

"Well, mostly just the misinterpretation of words, or if something is said in answer to something and your reply is quite short, it can be taken as you being curt or annoyed when you really weren't anything of the sort."

"MMhmm. Yes. Ok I can see that, that would be satisfactory. And what will you eat at the meeting?"

"I will have one hors d'oeuvre and drink nothing but water."

There was a short silence on the other end before the client said, "Exactly. Excellent. I will talk to you in a few weeks and continue to send you preparatory material. I hope this assignment works out well."

"I assure you at will."

"Mmm." The line went dead and the mime hung up the phone. Well, that was strange. Still, the client had a point, he needed to really get into his preparation. He considered going to the gym to get his adrenaline up but realised maybe that would be out of character. Or would it? In his research he had seen that there were some internet talking characters who liked keeping themselves in the prime of fitness. Although they generally liked talking about it and he hadn't seen such a mention of fitness in Kusa's chats. No, he would keep up with slighter exercise like regular walking to keep his health optimum but he wouldn't indulge to a suspicious level. That seemed best to him.

He settled down into a chair and pulled out a copy of "The Savant Actor In Theory" and began to refresh himself. He would really need to become this character, he made sure his clothing was loose enough and then performed the practice exercises "Bacon in a pan", "Egg frying in a pan", "Dog hot on the pavement", "Hot dog in a bun" and "Baguette with salad and extra brie" (this one was particularly hard, as you had to envision the motivation of the brie in the context of the scene. The scene being the bread.)

The mime satisfied himself that he still had his acting chops and then prepared himself a smoothie. He still remembered how the hitman (he hated calling him that as he hadn't actually tried to kill him and he didn't like stereotypes, but nonetheless, that's what the man reminded him of) had made a smoothie and how nice it had tasted. He hadn't brought any ingredients with him so it stood to reason that the smoothie had been made with ingredients that he had himself so it was a matter of finding those ingredients and trying to recreate that smell. He wondered what sort of drink a hit-man would create. Probably a potent one. Definitely one that would wake you up. He envisioned the smell again, it appeared in his mind like a 3d drawing. He pulled it apart with his mind and his olfactory memory. It definitely had no form of caffeine in it, so no need to add pinches of any of his coffee grinds, or to rip up any bags of tea. He had looked in the bin and discovered lemon peel and half squeezed limes. So he assumed they were in there and his nose seemed to confirm it, however there was something else, something he couldn't put his begloved finger on. He looked around his kitchen for something he could zest the lemon on, as the original had obviously been zested, however he didn't own a lemon zester. Sure the man hadn't had his own with him, maybe on his keyring? No, that would be absurb. It was quite possible maybe he used his cheese grater? It did have different levels of grating intensity. Yes that must be it! He went back through his drawers and found his grater. On closer inspection he saw that the finer grater section contained little white and yellow specks. Bingo.

The mime laid out the ingredients he had so far: lemons, limes, a zester (grater), indian tonic water (he knew the smell well from his brief stint as an alcoholic trying to deal with his memory. Indian tonic and gin would get him through most days. He finally kicked the habit after his mento kicked his arse. He seemed to have a bad record for arse kicking. At least, for getting his arse kicked. Actually, that record seemed to be growing higher every day. He put his mind to the task at hand, the smoothie. There was something else in there, something slightly exotic. It reminded him of something. Of... noodles? Why did it remind him of noodles? It hit him... ginger! He looked in his bupboards and sure enough, found a small nub of ginger which he placed next to everything else. He brought the memory of the scent to his head and tried to think ifhtere could be anything else. Nothing was striking him. He decided to try an experiment. He took the grater and grated a little lemon, a little lime, a little ginger and poured a little indian tonic water into a small bowl. He held his head over the little piles of grated fruit and vegetable and the bowl and breathed in deeply. He knew it would smell slightly different after being in the blender but he wanted a general idea. He let the smell arrange itself in his head and realised there was still something missing. At first he was expecting it to be carrot but his mind told that it was the wrong smell to add to this bouquet, it was too 'wooden'. This would likely be a liquid, and it would add a touch of fruitiness to the mix. Hm. Fruitiness and yet not a fruit? His instincts told him 'yes'. Wait... he opened the fridge and looked around. Yes. The landlord had told him he had a son that would turn up every now and then and want a drink. It was never made clear if he had his own key or if he'd be ringing up ahead of time but he would be handling inspections. There hadn't been one yet but he had been told to always keep a carton of Mango and banana fruit drink in the fridge because it was what he lived off of. So he had dutifully complied, replacing it once it was past the use by date with a fresh carton. Sure enough, the carton in his fridge had been opened. Was it the bulk of the smoothie or was something else the base? Yogurt? He went back to his memory. Yes, definitely some yogurt. He decided to try half yogurt and half fruit drink for now.

He poured out a measure of fruit drink into the blender followed by about the same amount of yogurt, then he squeezed in half a lemon, a tablespoon of lime zest, a small sprinkle of grated ginger and a snifter of Indian tonic water, then set the whole lot blending. After a second he had a thought and stopped it blending, then went to his freezer and got a tray of ice. He added half the tray to the blender and started it blending again. This time it sounded like he remembered on the day. Once it had blended for about the same time as he remembered (plus a few extra seconds to compensate for his being knocked unconscious and the sound needing to wake him up) he turned off the blender and poured the drink into a tall glass. He tasted it. His mind came alive, both with the flavour and with a hit of clarity. This was amazing stuff. He took another deep drink and the drink rewarded him by seeming to wash his brain through, he felt like he'd been through some sort of thought car wash. It was amazing. No wonder he liked this stuff. He got a notepad and wrote down the recipe. Even though, he rarely forgot anything it was good to leave a bit of memory spare in his head in case it ever needed to get replaced with anything else. After all, you never knew.