Panda

Living in the pensioner’s corner of East London was Fredrick; Forty three years of age and thirty stone, Fredrick was blindly tracing the edge of Britain in a proclaimed attempt to further his knowledge of his country, and use up his retirement credit. Fredrick managed to offend at least one person in every sea side town he visited and, after having his head almost scooped out in Cornwall for throwing up pasty bile into a child’s pram, he ended up lost- driving through the valleys of Mid Wales. While on a night drive along the streets of Aberystwyth, out of curiosity and an Americanized want to disturb the silence, Fredrick decided to turn a corner into the shortly stacked council houses of Pendigedig. 

Spaced out two chevrons apart like a traffic jam of childhood trauma are three prostitutes. Sexual thoughts flood Fredrick’s loins at the sight of them. Longing for deep emotional connection and someone to cherish through the cold winter, he decides to buy one with cold hard cash. To take the shame away from the situation, he tells himself that everyone has a right to do what they want and these women are empowered feminists (kind of hard to do when you see the bruises) The first woman spots Fredrick’s headlights and lurches forward on a weak right leg. She’s as skinny as all the vogue models, which turned Fredrick on until he sees the sweaty fox scarf draped around her shoulders. It wasn’t like he cared about fashion, but that scarf looked like it contained the worst kind of diseases between its damp strands of fur. Once the car passed by the sweaty fox lady, she stuck a middle finger up. The second girl wasn’t any better. It was obvious she was going for the slutty school girl/bruised brawler look, which didn’t sit well with Fredrick. Although you’d summarise Fredrick with the word ‘perv’, he still didn’t like the fake façade she had put up. He wanted it quick and easy- Or rather it was going to be quick and easy. Pulling up to the third girl, Fredrick saw something different. He’d seen many a prostitute seductively grind for his cash, and expected the same treatment from them all. Even the corpse like fox lady had shown a bit of guile on her wrinkly legs. But this girl had the attitude in her stance of a stroppy teenager, despite her obvious mid-twenties. The other two both had some kind of visual signifier- some bright bit of slut garb to draw you in. But this girl wore casual jeans cut straight from a 2005 Britney Spear’s music video and a baggy camo jacket. She was quite attractive (in a good way not a prostitute way) and she reminded Fredrick of the popular blonde girls he use to ogle over back in school. Fredrick slowly pulls the car up to the curb, rolling his window down as she struts over.

Speaking in an uninterested tone, through peppermint gum, she intimidated Fredrick due to the absence of undeserved respect (Something Fredrick’s mother gave to him in buckets) “What can I do for you?”

“I require your services.”

“My services? What you want me to fix your sink or something? Ask me straight up what you want.”

It confused Fredrick as to why she was being rude- He assumed it was her usual sales technique, but in actuality she was just the kind of person who made up her mind about someone as soon as she saw them. Fredrick reminded her of that one fat kid who’d ogle over her and her friends back in school.

“…I want you to have sex with me.”

“There you go,” She laughs and pulls a notepad out of her pocket “So, apparently I’m 50 pounds an hour…” She grabs a pencil and scribbles that number out “Nope let’s be honest I’m at least 80.”

“Why yes you are. I’d pay a hundred for someone like you.” For some reason, Fredrick thought it was a vital part of the process to flirt with a prostitute- failing to see the fact that most will follow you to Mordor if you give them enough money.

“For what reason? Because I’m a woman? Because I’ve got tits?”

“Well… I mean.. no it’s because you seem intelligent.”

Nicole stares right at Fredrick. She knows he’s lying through his teeth “Ok cool, a hundred sounds good lets go.” She hops into the car, pulls out her phone and starts to play a mobile game as if this was some family car journey. “So what is it you do?” She doesn’t look up from her phone.

Fredrick made up a new occupation for every prostitute, not because he was embarrassed by his real job, he just got ever more sexually flushed after deceiving a girl “I own an oil rig off the coast of Madagascar.” In actuality, Fredrick had worked for many years as a promotional food photographer before retiring at thirty seven. Because of Fredrick’s large stomach and drip eyed face, you’d assume that this job was easy- quite the opposite actually. Fredrick found that he completed deadlines and tasks in this job with relative ease and, as a result, made a large amount of money from it. This gave Fredrick an arrogant sense of entitlement as he felt superior to all the other ‘remedial’ workers around him. He had found something he enjoyed doing, and with leisure had got to the top of his field, yet convinced himself it was due to his people skills and vast intellect; both were non-existent.

“Woah, big earner then!”

“That’s not the only thing that’s big.”

This comment completely kills the conversation and a collective cringe shudders across both their shoulders.

For a good five minutes, the duo sit in silence. Usually the girls Fredrick picked up back in London would make up some bullshit story about how he was the prettiest guy they’d ever seen. The anxiety was squeezing the sweat out of Fredrick like a sponge.

Determined to break the silence, Fredrick states the obvious. “So what’s your name?”

“Nicole,” She answers quickly “How long till we get to your hotel?”

“It’s just another ten or so minutes.”

 Nicole had no reason for being here- her corner shop job payed the bills well enough to get by; She just wanted a bit of extra cash and didn’t find having sex with a 40 year old East Londoner very demeaning. Prostitution was a hobby for Nicole as it involved three things she liked: Sex, money and ratty people. This job was more of a voyeuristic pleasure for her, similar to the way you’d watch Jeremy Kyle. Every disgusting snort or armpit scratch a client did would help inflate Nicole’s ego.

“So… are you going to talk dirty?”

“Nah, not really my style.”

“Not your style… Well what is your style then?”

“…I don’t know really. I kinda’ just have sex with guys then go home.”

“What? No act of some kind?”

“Well I took drama at GCSE so I guess I could make up some character, what would you like?”

“Hrm.” Because of her dominance in the situation, Fredrick didn’t want to give her anything humiliating to act out. Not because he cared for her feelings, he just didn’t want to be bruised. The problem with this limitation was that all of Fredrick’s thoughts towards women were demeaning. He couldn’t think of anything “Could you maybe pretend to be a fire fighter?”

Nicole lets out a brittle laugh, it grates Fredrick’s ears. “You want me to be a firefighter? What the hell turns you on about that?”

“I don’t know… It was just the only thing that came into my head!”

“A firefighter?!” she rolls around in her seat laughing “Is it something to do with the hose?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well it’s long.”

“Stop it.”

“And thick.”

The car screeches to a halt. Two dark hedges loom either side. No scenery.

“Now you listen to me, I’m no fag!”

Nicole hadn’t dealt with an aggressive customer before, but over a few lagers with the other girls, she’d been fully briefed in how to get out of a tough situation like this one “Well you’ll have to prove it to me then won’t you.”

The car accelerates back to full speed in a matter of seconds, racing round the hedged roads and startling the lazy sheep.

“Do you mind,” says Fredrick as he looks straight at Nicole’s muddy shoes kicked up on the dashboard. 

“Do I mind?”

“This is a rental you know. I’ve paid a deposit!”

“Well you’d think owning a multimillion dollar oil rig, you’d be able to pay for your own limo or something, not a shitty Polo.”

The only way Fredrick knew to escape an embarrassing situation like this was to just pretend like nothing happened. It’s what he had done his entire life and by convincing himself that she had forgotten too, he easily got the peace of mind that the majority of the population strive for. Nicole wasn’t going to let him get off that easily, she goes in for another verbal jab.

“Another thing-“

A dense thud hits the windscreen, cracking it.  A body cracks down on the tarmac behind the car.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!” Fredrick sits there, white eyed and white knuckled. A brief moment of understanding hits both Nicole and Fredrick. For a second, they both have the thought of speeding off down the road and forgetting about it. But then Nicole looks up, and they notice the speeding camera peering right down onto them.

“Shit.”

They both get out the car, flecks of rain illuminated by the car headlights. Creeping round the side of the car, Fredrick masks his eyes “Oh god. Oh god what have you done!”

“What have I done?! You were the one driving!”

“You distracted me!”

Nicole ignores Fredrick for now, and walks up to the body. It was a Panda.

They both stand in silence- collective dismay between them. The result of the impact was enough to give a soldier a Vietnam flashback.

“What are we going to do?” Fredrick stammers. “Nicole? What are we-”

Nicole was already running halfway down the road, leaving the mangled panda at Fredrick’s feet. She didn’t have a modicum of regret. Then, stopping dead in her tracks as if a thousand volts had been shot right into her; she couldn’t feel her phone jingling around in her pocket.

“Forgotten something have we?” Fredrick taunts with her phone.

Nicole lunges for the phone, but Fredrick dodges and shoves it down his pants. The two stare each other straight in the eye.

“Do you really think I have a problem with going down there?”

“Listen, you’ve got to help me!”

“Oh really! And why’s that?”

“You’re probably caught on the camera with me! If you run away it’ll only make you look guiltier and you’ll get a bigger charge.” Fredrick knew fully well he’d be blamed for everything, but he didn’t want to tackle this situation alone. “Our best bet is to try to hide this body together.” Fredrick and Nicole both had no idea whether the speeding camera was recording, or had snapped a pic. In truth they just weren’t paying attention to the speed limit or the speed they were going. “Now look.” Fredrick bargains. “We hit the panda just before the speeding camera could have registered it.” Fredrick points to the dead panda position on the road. A fly twirls around the bone protruding from its hip.

Nicole leans against the Polo, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Ok.”

An inappropriate wave of excitement grasps Fredrick. He’d never admit it, but he absolutely hated being alone, and saw this as a chance to make a friend. Nicole wanted nothing more than to go home.

Fredrick and Nicole stand in the rain staring at the corpse. They need to get it from the wet tarmac to the boot of the car. Although Nicole believed in empowerment of the female gender and was a self-proclaimed, zero action feminist- she still wanted to enforce the idea of gender roles into the situation. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that dead panda. Worst thing Fredrick learnt about picking up a dead panda was the smell of its fur. The light spit of rain had moistened the strands and released a pungent smell- but it’d be fair to say that a living Panda wouldn’t have smelled any better. “Come on! I thought you were going to help.”

Nicole sighs as if she’d just been told to do her homework and helps ram the Panda corpse further into the corner of the boot. Although the rain had cleaned the wound, watery blood still sunk into the dusty fabric. The car peaks upwards from the weight like a trendy piece of hydraulics. In this moment it suddenly dawns on Fredrick that, even though they were standing there in the middle of the night with only a small farming village a few miles back, the reality of being caught was all too real. A panic kicks in and Fredrick slams the boot shut as fast as possible, despite the Panda’s arm sticking out. The bone cracks with the impact. Methodical was not Fredrick’s middle name- he was more of a hit something enough times and it’ll do what you want. A second slam crunches the bone ever more aggressively. The resistance of the dead animal only made Fredrick sweat even more. A few more slams has the arm snap off and splash into a puddle on the ground.  The two quickly jump into the car and accelerate off around the corner, leaving the arm lying there. As soon as the car started to move, Fredrick realises he had no idea what to do.

Whizzing past hedges, the sun starts to break from behind the Welsh hills.

“So what’s your brilliant plan then?” Nicole says grumpily.

Fredrick looks out his window, peering down the steep slope they’re driving along. An image of the Panda rolling down the hill creeps into his mind. It smacks into a bush and stays in sight. Or worse, the hole in the right shoulder opens up more and strings of intestine and veins catch on the tufts of grass, creating a unglamorous red carpet down to the bottom of the hill.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Nicole sits in the car seat in silence, her feet kicked up on the dashboard. Her only plan is to stay quiet until this is all over.

Over half an hour passes. Nicole had assumed they were heading to the hotel but had now finally worked out that Fredrick was just blindly driving, frozen in fear. He was bolt upright, pale as a sheet with two eyes wider than his sense of pride. “So do you think it’s a girl or a boy?”

“What? Why does it matter?” This question startles Nicole, who is halfway through completing a level on Candy Crush.

“Well I mean… It doesn’t- but it’s just interesting you know?”

“No not really, no.”

“Well I mean it kind of affects how bad of a situation this is don’t you think?”

“What? Why does the gender of the animal we just killed affect how bad the situation is? We’ve still killed an animal!”

Fredrick shuffles back into his seat: getting comfy as if he is about to tell a story “Well imagine we were in a film right now, ok? Everyone is going to hate us more if we killed a girl because that’s just how the world works. There’s this website I use which charts the deaths in every film and the response it gets. If a girl dies in a film people care a lot more than like say if ten guys die in a James Bond film.”

“… I don’t think that kind of thing extends to animals.”

“Bambi’s mum got killed,” Fredrick fires back.

“Yeah but that’s sad because she left a child behind. I read the other day that Pandas don’t get horny that much so I doubt the one we just killed was a mother.”

“Or father.”

Nicole looks disgusted “Nah the Panda dads fuck off anyway so it’s not exactly leaving anything behind.”

“See! So it does matter if it’s a boy or a girl!”

Three miles behind, P.C Burchill casually drives along in her police cruiser, traversing the high valley points. Megan had a face that was definitely bullied in her teen years; she wasn’t ugly by any means, just misshapen enough to only gain a drunk fuck. It was Megan’s day off, but her slightly below average looks had finally wriggled its way into her equally Weeble like husbands libido- He’d shut her off now, and was content masturbating to Countdown and Daybreak. The suburbanised way of life and lack of affection from her husband had drove her out, and she had no idea whether she had left as a shock tactic to get him back, or to escape the pain of being looked through rather than at.  She wasn’t in her usual police uniform as she felt some indulgence would cheer her up- Instead, she was dressed head to toe in a mishmash of tight fitting clubbing gear that was meant to accentuate the tits and ass, but instead just encased her dwarf body like a condom around a pear. She felt confident when she could draw similarities between her and the majority of women. Driving high up in the windy roads, her knee height Primark boots were the tether between a life of normalcy and suicide.

“This is officer Burchill reporting on the A4120 just ten minutes off of Cnwch Coch we have…” The bloodied bone of the Panda paw stares straight up into Megan’s eyes “A disturbance.”

“Oh you alright Megan? Thought it was your day off today?”

“It is sir, but an officers never off duty right?” Megan had been brown nosing Officer Jones since the day she met him. He was only a calls manager, but her misplaced drive for career had made her forget about that. Officer Jones was a physical manifestation of the comfort zone; it was easy for Megan to fool herself into thinking she was moving forward in life with Jones’s soft voice stroking her ears.   

Officer Jones absentmindedly laughs “So how’s that hedge trimmer working for you Meg? Sorry if it was low on battery I was searching for ages for the charger but I just couldn’t find it.”

“That’s ok sir my neighbour had one, but could we get back to the report?”

“Is it another boy racer? Just say the speedometer ran out of battery and hide it in the glove box if you couldn’t catch them.”

“No sir, there’s some sort of animal paw in the middle of the road.”

“Animal paw?” Sheets rustle behind the microphone  “What kind of animal?”

“I have absolutely no idea sir.”

“Well explain it to me and I’ll help.”

“With all due respect sir, does it really matter?” Megan examines the paw, flipping it over with her pen.

“Sadly does Megan. You see the fine is higher depending on which animal you kill. Highest fine believe it or not is for a sheep. If it’s natural cause then chu-ching Megan, our department will get a payout for finding it!”

“Not looking like a sheep sir. It’s got Black fur and a stubby thumb.”

“Dammit! Why can’t those things just get run over once in a while.”

“If I’d have to take a guess sir I’d say some kind of oriental animal judging by the structure between the claw and the carpal pad.” Megan had been confined to animal science after not feeling confident enough to pursue a career in medical. It was looking like her pick and mix of UCAS points held something useful after all.

Officer Jones ticks the info graphic of a Komodo dragon.

“The perps would be long gone by now so I’ll have to run up to the next village and check some of the security cameras. I’ll report back once I know more.”

“How are you so sure someone did this Megan?” David’s hand hovers over the ‘natural cause’ check box. “I mean could it not have fallen off?”

“The bone cartilage wouldn’t have snapped this badly without the help of a vehicle sir.”

Officer Jones’s attention had dwindled now “Alright Megan. Well, my tea’s ready so just let me know how this Asian animal thing goes ok?”

“I think that bit means it’s a woman.” Nicole points to the crotch of the Panda.

The duo are parked, overlooking the rolling valleys. Fredrick had lost interest in the conversation.

“Yeah well done, now what about the plan?”

 “Well I was thinking,” Nicole slams the boot shut, “Only as a last resort though, ok? My grandma lives about half an hour’s drive from here, we could bring it over there and dump it in the basement. Her nose is so burned from sniff that I doubt she’d ever notice.”

Fredrick runs the plan over in his mind. He’d usually add some mundane feature onto the end to get himself some brownie points, but his last idea had brought them here; atop the Owain Glyndwr memorial site where they were planning on disguising the Panda to look like some anti-immigrant hate crime.

“You sure it’s going to work?”

“Yeah definitely! There’s an entrance around the back we can go through so she won’t even need to know we were there.”

“And you sure we aren’t going for the hate crime plan?” Fredrick points towards a family taking pictures of the sharp crucifix and wreath next to the ticket booth”

Nicole wasn’t listening. She’s already Google mapped the directions and was skipping forward on the Dido album Fredrick had insisted on playing.

“Well I think this calls for a celebration! I’ll go get us some ice cream.” Fredrick grabs his wallet and skips off.

Megan was turning the corner to the Owain Glyndwr’s castle. She’d had a tip off about a fat man buying pink and blue ski masks from the garage just down the road and stealing a pack of Oreos. ‘you have the right to remain silent’ she whispers to herself- getting flushed with excitement.

Nicole sees the police car float past the rear view mirror. She shoots a panicked look to Fredrick who’s too busy having eye sex with the ice cream at the bottom of the freezer to notice.  She can’t leave the car; that’d make her seem even guilty, so she just sinks back in her chair.

‘they won’t know which car to check will they?’ she reassures herself. They’d been sitting less than a meter away from the dead panda long enough to get used to the smell. All the signs were pointing in their direction and the pungent smell was only one of them; the smashed windscreen, dented bonnet and homophobic bumper sticker didn’t help either.

Megan looks straight at the three cars overlooking the rolling hills. One was a vintage, open top sports car with a shiny boot and gestural mirrors either side, the next a decrepit polo with dried blood stains strewn from boot to the wheel, and the last: a family convertible with two children eating McDonalds in the back. Megan steps out the police cruiser in her lycra dress, squeaking as she does so. Through the excitement of catching a perp, Megan had completely forgotten about her sausage garage getup.

“Fuck.” Nicole sees the black spandex telly tubby coming straight towards the car, and without a thought jumps into the driver’s seat and revs up the engine. The exhaust farts at the turn of the key.

Megan reacts to the ignition by running in the same spot for a few seconds, before leaping behind the wheel of the police cruiser and grabbing her megaphone.

“This is officer Burchill! You are under arrest, please step out of the vehicle!”

Fredrick flicks his head and sees the situation. At the sight of the police cruiser, he jumps in midair and runs in the first direction he sees; over the hill side, ice cream in hand, tripping over the banister and flopping over the edge.

Nicole swings the car towards the curved road heading down the hill, Megan in pursuit.

“This is your last chance to desist or I will be forced to use force!”

Nicole rolls down her window and flicks her middle finger up.  “That was terrible phrasing!” She spits.

The chase continues into the narrow hedges, cutting off any space for quick turns and escapes. Nicole and Megan both display a pathetically mature respect for safety and slow down as to not hit any car oncoming from the opposite direction, yet clench the wheel with white knuckled Hollywood action.

They roll along at 20 mph.

During Megan and Nicole’s nail biting, twenty mile an hour chase, Fredrick had been rolling down the hill away from the Owain Glyndwr memorial site. His rotund body had him bouncing over ditches and bumps perfectly, all while clenching two crushed, empty cones between his hands. The hill was a steady enough incline for Fredrick to be rolling down it for a good while. He had time to think, and was slowly realising the wastefulness his life embodied.

“This is your last chance Nicole, stop the car now!” Megan shouts

“What! How’d you know my name?” Nicole keeps her foot on the pedal and casually cranes her neck, seeing Megan not two meters behind, they exchange smiles. “You alright Megan? Haven’t seen you since secondary school!”

Just the mention of her name on Nicole’s lips brings back all the memories of torment and grief from Megan’s past.

The rage flowed through her body and manifested itself into a slight dink from the police cruiser into the Polo.

Nicole feels the dink. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing you crazy bitch! You trying to kill me!?”

‘I’ve never made a solid social connection in my life’ Fredrick thinks while rolling up a hay bale ramp and jumping a pigs feeding trough in true Evil Kenevil fashion. ‘I should call my mum’

Nicole’s engine revs.

“This is Officer Burchill to Officer Jones we have a situation on our hands!” Megan screams over the static intercom and takes a light turn.

“Oh you alright Megan! How’s the case going?”

“I am in hot pursuit of one individual going by the name of Nicole Singers.”

“Nicole Singers? Why that’s Jerry daughter isn’t it? My lord I haven’t seen her since she was a tot.”

Nicole is halted dead in her tracks by a sheep hobbling across the road. Nicole and Megan both watch as the haggard animal slowly crawls from one side of the road, to the other. Nicole gives in to her primal urges and floors it, clipping the sheep and sending it spinning into a bush.

“We have a casualty sir! Repeat, we have one sheep down.”
A collective cheer is heard from behind the police microphone.

The impending fear of capture makes Nicole accelerate harder around the corner, elevating one side of the car. It takes more than just pressure on the pedal for Megan to keep up-; she’d never gone past 50 miles per hour.

Nicole decides to fire verbal bullets “You know Megan, I never actu-“

A dense thud hits the Polo and a body cracks through the windscreen, falling on top of Nicole.

The impact of Fredrick’s body had swerved the car into the cushiony hedges. Nicole lies, squashed, underneath Fredrick’s lump of a body.

Megan halts the car and gets out, staring in dismay at the scene. “Officer Jones…” She holds the radio transceiver up to her mouth “I… They…”

“Any more sheep?”

“I don’t really know how to write a report about this sir. You’re going to need to come and see for yourself.”

Smoke floats from the engine of the Polo. Nicole wriggles beneath Fredrick’s dead body trying to escape, his grass stained clothes pressing up against her.

As Megan paces towards the car, the boot flips upwards and the panda lurches over like some crappy animatronic. The car wriggles with Nicole’s desperate attempt of escape. Shear panic kicks into Nicole- not because of the forty three year old, thirty stone corpse lying ontop of her, but because, in the attempt of twisting her body out of the mulch, she felt her phone crack in her pocket.