The Jacket 2000 (c) Alexandre van Chestein I boarded the bus just like any other day. I showed the driver my pass with a smile, then proceeded to walk in a straight line to the back, sitting near the window. I opened the top of my denim jacket a bit, reaching inside for the lower left inside pocket, pulling out a small graphic novel and flipping through it. At times I simply turned the pages without even reading, completely lost in my daydream. I looked up at the window, at the beads of water dripping slowly down the glass and out of sight. I resumed my reading. A beep. Another. I reached inside my jacket, this time for the right inside breast pocket, pulling out my cellular phone. Keeping the ever-present slight smile on my face, I chatted a minute or two, then ended the conversation and put the phone back, returning to my graphic novel to continue flipping the pages without reading them. It had been an old friend wishing to resume friendly terms between the two of us by granting me a small favor which I fully intended to collect as soon as my business that day was over. I put back the comic in my jacket and looked out the winow. My stop would come in a matter of seconds. I looked at the fellow in front of me, who was busy talking with one of his peers in a dialect or lingo I didn't quite grasp, be it due to ignorance or simple lack of attention on my part. My eyes drifted from his short hair (which no doubt could develop in a quite handsome set of curls if he would simply let it grow) to his soft temple, then to the window as I realized I'd missed my stop. I buzzed the driver and went to the rear door, wishing secretly he'd let me get down there and then but knowing that were I to ask, the likelihood of him telling me to stand there and wait for the next stop was just as, if not more, likely than him falling prey to a moment's worth of generosity and letting me down now. I watched the building go past us and left the bus at the next stop, reaching inside my beloved jacket once again, this time aiming for the right inside pocket to pull out my blue umbrella. With a dexterous and uninterrupted motion I carefully detached the strap, gave it a sharp swing to extend it fully, then pushed the knob to the very top to clamp it in place. Now shielded from the soft yet presistent rain, I crossed the street and made my way back to the building. My shoes crunched into the packed, wet sand that had been put down in lieu of the asphalt that would no doubt put a finishing touch on the parking lot in a week or two. I carefully stepped into a puddle of water to clean off any dirt from the soles of my shoes before leaning against the front door to whip away any remaining raindrops from my umbrella before repeating the process I had executed mere minutes earlier to open it, but this time in reverse. My umbrella carefully put back in its rightful place in the right inside pocket of my jacket, I entered the building. I pushed the elevator button, waited for some seconds then boarded the empty lift. I set it for the third floor and waited until the doors closed to let out a sigh of relief. I would be on time as promised. Few things could damage one's reputation more than being branded as someone who could not even be punctual. For if you cannot even be bothered to arrive to a rendez-vous on time, what can you do right? The doors opened and I walked out into the hall, turning right thanks to a well-placed sign on the wall and heading toward the open door of the small office that served as headquarters for a small government unemployment insurance center. I smiled to the secretary and asked for July. She directed me to her office. I thanked her. I took a few steps and entered. I closed the door behind me. July welcomed me. She asked me something. I didn't pay attention. I reached inside my faithful jacket. My hand went for the left inside breast pocket. I pulled out my pistol. I aimed it with a smile at July's stomach and fired. Snap. The surprise had but started to grace her face. I fired again. Snap. She faltered in her seat. I aimed the third shot at her left, soft temple as she doubled in pain. Snap. I wiped minute traces of uncleanliness from the tip of the silencer. I put the pistol back in the left inside breast pocket. I waited three minutes. I went out. I smiled again at the secretary. I apologized for the ruckus inside. I explained I had tipped over a chair and fell over trying to put it back up. The secretary laughed. I smiled and left. I went to the elevator. The doors opened. I stepped inside. I pushed the button for the first basement. I waited. And waited. The doors opened. I stepped out. The contract had been simply laid out to me and carried out in the same manner. I later would stop at a gas station, remove the goatee and eyeglasses as well as slip on a curly black wig tailored to my exact measurements. I would then proceed to go to my old friend's place and collect the favor he had so galantly extended my way, before making a final stop at an undisclosed location to retrieve a black suitcase that would miraculously present itself in a place where one would not expect a black suitcase to be. I retrieved my umbrella from its trusty place inside my beloved denim jacket and again repeated the process of priming it for its rain- repelling duties. Protected once again, I exited the building through the underground parking lot, where a strange film-noir ambiance reigned as water dripped from every possible leak in the ceiling. I briskly crossed the street and ran to the bus stop in time to sheath my blue umbrella once again and board the bus going in the opposite direction than the one I had taken to get here. I showed the driver my pass with a smile, then proceeded to walk in a straight line to the back, sitting near the window. I opened the top of my denim jacket a bit, reaching inside for the lower left inside pocket, pulling out a small graphic novel and flipping through it. At times I simply turned the pages without even reading, completely lost in my daydream. I looked up at the window, at the beads of water dripping slowly down the glass and out of sight. I resumed my reading. 24/5/00 Alexandre van Chestein