Posted by: jockmackenzie | April 29, 2009

“Dealing with Dymans” Chapter 3 – End, Ch. 4, Pt. 1

Click the “start arrow” below to hear the audio of this chapter:

I started to try to tell you about my avoiding confrontation and I don’t know exactly how to put that into words either. What I do know is this – Dougie Dymans gives me the willies. He scares me. There’s something about him that is more than just being, as you say, a ‘bad dude.’ Trust me, friend, he is ‘evil.’”

Jack, Sydney, and Waldi were back where they’d started. They had made a complete loop, and in the fading light, stood beside Jack’s truck. Waldi peed on the back driver’s side tire and then quick-stepped into the middle of the road and began building a small mountain. Jack, distracted by the information he had just received, and somewhat dissatisfied with the lack of firm evidence regarding just how dastardly Dougie Dymans really was, was hit by the horrific stench of Waldi’s handiwork.

“Yuk! That’s horrible!” gasped Jack. “What have you been feeding that beast?”

“Hey, suck it up, princess. I suppose you poop rose petals.” After a short pause, Sydney added, “I wish I could have given you harder evidence. If I can think of anything more specific, I’ll give you a call.”

With that, the two parted. As Jack drove away, some nasty thoughts were beginning to form in his mind. One of those thoughts was – Too much talk, too little action. It’s lesson time.

Ch. 4 It’s Not What You Know


Jack knew people. And when he didn’t know the right people, he knew the people who knew the right people. Jack knew Darryl and Darryl knew neon, had known it for over 25 years.

Another thing Jack knew was what he wanted to do with the neon sign that blazed outside Sharma and Dymans Fine Jewellery. He stopped by Darryl’s shop and found the craftsman, more artist really than craftsman, at work in his back room.

After the usual pleasantries, catching up on old times, and making the seemingly necessary excuses one does for not staying in touch more often, Jack got down to business.

“Darryl, you’re Mr. Neon in these parts. I need some expert advice. What would cause some of the letters in a neon sign to go out, not all of the letters, just some of them?”

“A number of possibilities,” replied Darryl. “Could be incomplete impurity vacuuming, or a miscalculation during the bombarding process when the sign was first built. Perhaps a neon or argon leak? What color are the letters?”

“Does it matter?”

“Different gases produce different colors. The cathodic emission . . .,” Darryl stopped. “But you’re not asking what would make some of the letters go out as a result of improper manufacture, are you. You’re asking how someone – no names need be mentioned – how someone could make just some of the letters in a neon sign go out. Am I right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? The answer to that particular question is easy. The simplest way to make some of the letters go out would be to mess with one or more of the sign’s transformers. I say ‘one or more’ because some signs have just one transformer; some have several. Are we speaking of any particular neon sign?”

“Okay, okay. What am I – an open book? My target is Dougie Dymans and the sign outside his shop in the mall.”

“That low-life, scum sucking, good-for-nothing, sorry excuse . . .”

“I take it you know the gentleman.”


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