Word: Wunderkind

wunderkind

[ voon-der-kind, wuhn-; German voon-duhr-kint ]

 

noun,plural wun·der·kinds, German wun·der·kin·der [voon-duhr-kin-duhr].

1. a wonder child or child prodigy.

2. a person who succeeds, especially in business, at a comparatively early age.

 

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               Frank sat heavily in his chair. A can of cheap beer was held loosely in his hand and his other grazed the remote. He was considering changing the channel, but part of him was hooked on the show. He was not sure why. He did not have any real interest in the subject matter. But he watched.

               The show was a new games how in which all the contestants were children. Gifted children. The kind who could rattle off facts about any number of subjects as easily as they could breathe. Kids with talent. Kids with drive. Kids with a bright, infinite future.

               Frank remembered being one of those kids.

               Had the show been on the air thirty years ago, Frank could have been a contestant. Sure he probably wouldn’t have won, but even a game show for kids can only have one winner. At least he would have given the winner a run for his money.

               His eyes lazed around the living room. He wondered, not for the first time, what had happened. Where had everything gone wrong? He had wanted to build robots for a living. He could have done it too. As a child, he had always been good at building things. He had even built simple machines out of Legos that actually worked. He should have gone far.

               So why was he sitting there, drinking a beer and watching kids act smart? Why was he fixing computers instead of building robots? Not even fixing them, really. Just compensating for the stupidity of other people. He sighed as he watched a kid get another answer right. The boy acted like it was the best thing in the world. Frank used to be able to feel like that. Not so much anymore.

               Maybe that was it. Maybe that was why he was stuck where he was. He had lost that drive. That zest for life. The eagerness only children can really have. He shifted in his seat. Maybe…maybe he could get it back somehow? Sure it was a little late, but maybe there was a chance of reigniting his old potential. Maybe there was still time to do what he always wanted to do. To make something of himself. To really remind himself that he was once called brilliant. A genius, even.  

               All he had to do was turn the TV off and put his drink down. Get up and find his old robotics and computer science books. He was sure they were around somewhere. He could brush off his old skills and really do something great. Other people had gotten a late start in life, so why couldn’t he?

               He just…needed to gather up the energy to do so. Work had been long and tiring. A night of proper rest would do him good. He could gather up all the books and start relearning everything on the weekend. He nodded slightly. Yes, on the weekend, he would get his life back on track and reignite his old potential. But for now, he relaxed into his chair and watched the game show. 

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Ah, the child with limitless potential that turns into a completely average adult. Such a depressing trope. And it exists for a reason. An unfortunate reason, but a reason nonetheless. I'm sure you can all figure out what that reason is.

Word: Exsiccate

 

exsiccate

[ ek-si-keyt ]

 

verb (used with object),ex·sic·cat·ed, ex·sic·cat·ing.

1. to dry or remove the moisture from, as a substance.

2. to dry up, as moisture.

verb (used without object),ex·sic·cat·ed, ex·sic·cat·ing.

3. to dry up.

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               Detective Harris kept a close eye on the building as he was guided to the crime scene. In 30 years on the force, he had learned that crime scenes could easily go passed the yellow tape. He passively listened to the briefing the cop escorting him was giving. So far none of it was particularly relevant.

               “Now the body.” The officer said. “That’s where things get weird. A lot of the boys think it looks like a vampire got to it. Me? I think it’s more like a mummy.”

               Harris grumbled. “Don’t bring in fake things into a crime scene. It doesn’t make for a very good look.”

               “Mummies exist.” The officer said. “But you’ll see what I mean when we get there. It’s weird.”

               “So you said, but you haven’t said how yet.”

               They rounded a corner. There was a room blocked off by police tape. A few beat cops stood by the wall. Neither of them looked very happy with their current station. Harris and the officer approached.

               “You can see for yourself.” The officer said.

               The two of them ducked under the tape, drawing little more than idle glances from the guards. Harris would have to make sure those two knew how important keeping watch over a crime scene was. But that was for later. He took a look around the apartment. It was oddly clean. Not a speck of blood anywhere, nor was there anything broken.

               The only thing that said a crime had taken place was the body, which was slumped against a wall. And Harris immediately knew what the officer meant by mummy. The body was a desiccated husk. It was like every drop of fluid had been sucked out of it. Harris approached, keeping a cautious distance. One of the CSI people approached.

               “Any wounds?” Harris asked in lieu of greeting.

               “Just one, detective.” The CSI said. “A small hole in the exact center of the torso. And I mean that’s the only wound. At least, that’s all we can find without a more careful examination. No bruising, no lacerations. Just that one puncture wound.”

               “Hm. Anything else of note?”

               “Not a thing. And I mean that literally. There’s nothing off about the apartment. At all. Not signs of a struggle, nothing missing.” The CSI paused. “Well, actually, there is one thing.”

               “What’s that?”

               “There’s no fingerprints anywhere. There is some signs that they’ve been wiped clean, but nothing concrete. And it’s everywhere in the apartment. Not a single print in the entire place. We only know who the victim is because he had some ID on him. In a wallet that was not stolen.”

               Harris stood and looked around the room. A smile slowly crossed his face.

               “Do you know how long I’ve been on the force?”

               “No?”

               “Thirty years. Been a detective for twenty of them. In that time, I’ve seen things that make horror movies look tame. But I’ve never seen anything like this.”

               “Detective?”

               “I want to see everything you have so far. This could be the first really interesting case I’ve had in years, and I’m damn well going to do it right.”

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Nothing quite like a new way to kill people to get the attention of a jaded, older detective, is there? 

Word: Finagle

 

finagle

[ fi-ney-guhl ]

 

verb (used with object),fi·na·gled, fi·na·gling.

1. to trick, swindle, or cheat (a person) (often followed by out of): He finagled the backers out of a fortune.

2. to get or achieve (something) by guile, trickery, or manipulation: to finagle an assignment to the Membership Committee.

verb (used without object),fi·na·gled, fi·na·gling.

3. to practice deception or fraud; scheme.

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               Jack left the bar, and the woman he was talking to, and headed to a small table, where his friend, Allan sat, nursing a drink. Allan watched the woman like a hawk, and not for the reason most men in the vicinity were. They were all focused on the low cut of her cocktail dress. He was more focused on how she was acting.

               “So, what do you think?” Jack asked.

               “I think she’s playing you.”

               “Really now?” Jack eyed the woman. He did not seem all that surprised or offended by Allen’s statement.

               “Oh yeah, definitely. I’ve seen her kind before. She’s acting all sweet now, but she’ll fleece you out of everything you own. Trust me, man, that woman’s no good. She’s a liar and a cheat. A real parasite. I’d call her a gold digger, but they at least give something back.”

               “You think so, huh?”

               “Think nothing. I know. I’ve seen it happen way too many times before to not recognize the signs. You’re better off ditching her as soon as you can.”

               Jack nodded slowly and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times before saying anything.

               “Hey, Allen, remember last year when my brother got scammed out of almost everything he owned?”

               “Yeah? You told me about it. He said there was a…” Allen paused and thought. I did not take long for him to connect the dots. “Wait, that’s her.”

               “Yup.”

               “So you know she’s a rat?”

               “She’s not a rat. Rats have a valuable purpose in the world, even if it isn’t always a pleasant one.”

               Allen looked between Jack and the woman. “So why are you even bothering to talk with her?”

               Jack put his phone down. It showed a group text. It had a few words about “her” and “it’s starting,” followed by a lot of texts saying they would “be there soon.”

               “Turns out my brother wasn’t her first victim.” Jack said. “He wasn’t even her most recent mark. She’s been cheating guys out of their stuff for years. The two of us found other victims of hers. We got in contact with them and arranged a little…reunion, of a sort.”

               “Wait, so she’s trying to scam you out of your stuff, and you’re going along with it to trick her right back?”

               “That’s one way of putting it. I prefer to call it poetic justice though.”

               “Holy crap, that’s gutsy. What if she finds out before you can spring your trap?”

               “Then the plan will change. It’s a very fluid plan to begin with. Besides, with how she operates, it won’t be too hard to lure her in. And all the victims I could find will be there waiting.”

               “You’re not gonna hurt her, are you?”

               “More psychological than physical. Although some of those guys are angry enough to go further. Most of them don’t want that much trouble. They just want to put the fear of god in her. And maybe get as much of their stuff back as they can.”

               Allen nodded. The woman looked over at the two of them and waved at Jack. He gave his best love struck smile and waved back.

               “Sorry, looks like she’s getting impatient. I’d better get back to it.” Jack said.

               “Good luck, man.”

               Jack went back to his plan, making it look like he was falling for her tricks. Allen watched the two fake flirt with each other before leaving the bar. He headed out not long after. He did not know where they were going, and so could not follow to support his friend. Hopefully his plan would be a success. The world could do with one less parasite.

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Not much to say right now. So, uh, I hope everyone in the US has a wonderful Thanksgiving! Try not to eat too much, you know?