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b'Episode Notes
Somethings you can\'t escape, but what happens when you realize it isn\'t only memories that are following you everywhere you go?
The Triangle People by Shane Migliavaca
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Transcription:
Sarah Hoffman was nervous.
Sitting at a table outside the cafe, she felt exposed.
Sarah hated open places, so she had picked a table with a clear view of the entrance and parking lot\\u2026 better to see everyone\'s comings and goings, not to mention she\\u2019d seen them again.
Just out of the corner of her eye\\u2026 a figment of her fragile mind no doubt\\u2026 brief flashes of people watching her, just out of focus. Sarah had started seeing them after the incident.
_You\\u2019re messed up kid. _
Sarah picked up the folder on the table. Inside was a stack of of glossy photos.
She flipped through them, hands were trembling. They were all crap. Damn. What was wrong with her? She used to have a good eye for setting up a shot, but these were all framed bad. Beginner\\u2019s shit, not something you\\u2019d see from a pro.
_Let\\u2019s face it. You\\u2019ve lost the passion. _
Sarah loved photography. Setting up shots\\u2026 making every one of them a work of art. All she\\u2019d need was the next assignment to keep her going. And now, what had changed?
You saw that man die.
He hadn\\u2019t just died.
He died in your arms.
Sarah had been covering a flower expo of all things. Should have been an easy payday\\u2026 a real piece of cake\\u2026 except for the man with a gun. He opened fire on the crowd. Ten wounded, four dead\\u2026 including the shooter. He\\u2019d been there to kill his ex-wife\\u2026 she\\u2019d been only wounded.
One of the dead: Tom Hillston. He\\u2019d been in front of Sarah when the shooting started. Had he not been standing there\\u2026
She took a deep breath.
The image of his face as Tom died; It was always there\\u2026 just below the surface\\u2026 ready to come out at a moment\\u2019s notice. The sadness\\u2026 emptiness in his eyes. Sarah could still taste the blood on her lips.
His blood.
Blood on her hands.
Blood that wouldn\\u2019t wash off no matter how many times she tried.
There were times at night\\u2026 sleepless nights, where she prayed they could switch places. She should have died that day, not Tom Hillston, father of three.
Post-traumatic stress disorder they call it. Well she certainly had it\\u2026 and her work was suffering for it. Missed appointments, outbursts, and shitty work.
That\\u2019s why this assignment was so important. A job for a clothes catalog\\u2026 a chance to get the ball rolling again on her career.
The cafe was busy with the afternoon lunch crowd\\u2026 far too many people here for Sarah to feel comfortable. She was waiting for the editor of the catalog to show. They\\u2019d had a date for noon, but It was already quarter to one. Sarah had the urge to just fucking leave; the photos were shit anyway.
A few more minutes she told herself, then she\\u2019d leave. Piss on this whole fucking rotten thing.
A red corvette pulled into the lot. Music played loudly within for a few seconds before the car shut off. Was that Rick Astley?
It could only be Irene Dellanger, an old friend and the person responsible for getting her this job. Sarah hadn\\u2019t realized she\\u2019d be meeting Irene. This would be doubly hard\\u2026 showing her the disappointing photo shoot, after Irene had gone out of her way to get Sarah the job.
Some of the patrons shot Irene dirty looks as she strode over. No doubt they weren\\u2019t fans of her choice of music. Before Irene could reach her, a waitress cut her off.
\\u201cCan I help you ma\\u2019am?\\u201d The hapless young women asked.
Irene simply pointed to Sarah. \\u201cI\\u2019m with her kid. Would you be a sport and bring me a glass of wine.\\u201d The waitress left, tail between her legs.
Irene gave Sarah a weary smile. \\u201cThere\\u2019s my girl!\\u201d She sat languidly in the chair across from her. \\u201cLay \\u2018em on me baby.\\u201d
Sarah held the folder tight, her heart beat fast in her chest. \\u201cWell\\u2026\\u201d She wanted to tell her not to bother, that the photos were all garbage\\u2026 but her courage went out the door as Irene smiled at her, waiting with her hand outreached.
No, instead Sarah handed them off, defeated. She was weak, no doubt about it.
Irene took the folder, and rifled through it a couple times without comment. Sarah tried to read her friend\\u2019s face. Was that disappointment, or just tiredness? It was hard to say.
Finally, after a few agonizing minutes Irene handed it back. Before either of them commented, the poor waitress from before brought that glass of wine.
Sarah worked up the nerve to say something to her friend. \\u201cListen, I\\u2019m sorry that they\\u2019re so poor. The photos. I can do them again perhaps\\u2026 \\u201d
Irene put a hand up, cutting her off. She took a large sip of wine, setting the glass back down and spilling droplets of wine on the white tablecloth.
\\u201cHahaha! Good one Sarah.\\u201d
Sarah looked at her puzzled. \\u201cWhat?\\u201d
\\u201cIs this like one of our collage pranks? Or is today April first?\\u201d
\\u201cUh, neither?\\u201d
\\u201cThen you have a weirder sense of humor then I thought. They\\u2019re fantastic!\\u201d
Fantastic? Was Irene still smoking pot? That\\u2019s the only explanation. No, no, she was being nice. That\\u2019s it\\u2026 she could tell how messed up Sarah was feeling.
\\u201cY-You like them?\\u201d Sarah stammered. \\u201cI didn\\u2019t think they came out all that great.\\u201d
\\u201cLove \\u2018em!\\u201d She took another sip of wine. \\u201cIn fact I think I\\u2019m giving you the location shoot too.\\u201d
\\u201cWhat? Really?\\u201d Sarah asked, maybe Irene was the one pulling a prank.
\\u201cYeah.\\u201d She answered, a little annoyed. \\u201cI\\u2019m not joking. You killed the studio shoot. Let\\u2019s see what you can do with a location. I\\u2019ve already got it picked out. You\\u2019ll love it.\\u201d
They\\u2019d had a pretty good lunch afterwards; dropping all the business talk and just talking about old times. It was the first time in so long she felt good\\u2026 felt human, and not like a lump of scar tissue.
As Sarah was walking back to the car, she stopped and waved to Irene as she pulled out, music again loudly pouring from the car\\u2019s speakers. It was in fact Rick Astley.
Over the din of Rick\\u2019s voice and the car engine, Irene hollered to her.
\\u201cIt was fun home slice. Catch you tomorrow!\\u201d With that she sped off, breaking god knows how many traffic laws.
Sarah couldn\\u2019t help herself, she smiled. Perhaps it was the turning point she\\u2019d hoped for. A second chance\\u2026 redemption.
Irene might have thought she\\u2019d love the location, but Sarah had other feelings about it altogether. The place was horrible\\u2026 an old abandoned building at the center of the city. It had served as the City Hall back in the 70\\u2019s, but a scandal of some sort had led to the building falling into disuse. In fact most of this area of the city had been vacated.
Blocks and blocks of old, abandoned buildings. Some hundreds of years old. It wasn\\u2019t too hard to tell her models: Allie and Paige were less then thrilled by their surroundings as well.
Paige, a pale, leggy redhead looked up at the old city hall. \\u201cReally?\\u201d
Sarah nodded. \\u201cThat\\u2019s what she told me.\\u201d
Allie, a pretty blonde with long curly hair cracked her knuckles. \\u201cI don\\u2019t know guys, I\\u2019m feeling it. Let\\u2019s get shooting.\\u201d
They headed into the building.
Sarah was surprised that the front door wasn\\u2019t locked or boarded up. Maybe Irene had arranged something\\u2026 wouldn\\u2019t surprise her at all. Irene always got her way.
Inside it was pretty much as Sarah expected; a mess. The floor was littered with trash\\u2026 the walls covered in graffiti. She had to admit to herself though, there were plenty of interesting places to shoot here.
The next couple of hours went rather well. Sarah felt her confidence coming back.
Paige was taking a break, sitting on an old desk. She stretched a long leg, rubbing it. She watched Sarah as she was taking some photos of Allie, clicking away with an old style camera.
\\u201cYou now, they have digital ones now.\\u201d Paige said, a little sarcasm in her voice.
Sarah watched Allie take a new pose. \\u201cI\\u2019m a little old fashioned I guess.\\u201d
After another hour of shooting and they\\u2019d finished up. The crew was packing up their equipment as the girls and make-up guy took a break. Sarah decided that she wanted some photos of the place\\u2026 it was too good a location to pass up.
There were plenty of good shots she could get. She was feeling it, that thrill again, after so long.
Perhaps that was why it didn\\u2019t bother her walking down the hallway alone\\u2026 that and the fact that after the shooting she preferred solitude. Sarah had a hard time trusting people, even those she knew, after all, that woman had been married at one time to the man that tried to kill her. You never knew who might snap and try to kill you.
Among the graffiti were people\\u2019s names, crude drawings of sex organs and various obscene words\\u2026 but one thing kept popping up.
The Triangle People are coming.
Sarah counted at least five times so far she found it written on a wall or door. Was it the name of a gang?
She walked further down the hall, clicking photos of the graffiti. She found a couch further down the hall. Resting against a wall. Spray painted across the cushions was the word ASS. She chuckled before taking a picture of it. \\u2018Whoever did it had some skill\\u2026 a letter on each cushion and everything\\u2019 Sarah thought caustically.
Clack-tap, clack-tap, clack-tap.
Sarah looked up from the couch, glancing back they way she\\u2019d come. Was there somebody coming? Maybe one of the crew come to fetch her. But the hall was empty. She turned and looked further down the other end of the hall where it turned a corner.
\\u201cHello?\\u201d Sarah called out, tightening her grip on the camera. If one of them was playing a prank on her, she\\u2019d let them have it. \\u201cGuys c\\u2019mon, don\\u2019t even.\\u201d
Clack-tap, clack-tap, clack-tap.
The sound was coming closer. It sounded like heavy boots, none of the others'