Of Vengeance by J. D. Kurtness

Author:J. D. Kurtness [Kurtness, J. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459743755
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

Even if it’s against building rules, anyone who sees you heading onto the roof with a guitar case tends to give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s a charmingly rebellious, even romantic act. But that’s no reason to let myself get caught. The guitar case is an excuse. A security measure. When people think they know what you’re up to, they stop asking questions.

What you need is an item — like my guitar case —that repels people just enough to make them look away so they don’t notice where you’re going. A little sleight of hand to occupy their minds.

I sand down the guitar case until it looks worn out, apply a light coating of glue, sprinkle on dirt and dust, and use black matte paint on any areas that still appear a little too shiny. I also make sure it doesn’t smell.

I dig out the inside, removing the thin layer of foam designed to protect the instrument. The space I save will let me fit in both my little guitar and my gun snugly enough so neither will move or get scratched up. The end result is a somewhat bizarre case, dirty and worn out as if it had been lugged around the world by a starving artist. It embodies every cliché about penniless, dirty, and wonderfully inoffensive musicians with their cases open on the sidewalk, singing for their supper.

This guitar case is the most innocuous thing in the world. Like me, when I pay attention. People love music. They find musicians intriguing. They want to see them play. Everyone wants their little magic trick.

When I carry my guitar case without a gun inside, I still leave the gun’s blanket in there, so people get used to its presence and don’t ask any questions. The gun itself stays in its home behind the dryer.

My guitar case is for camping trips. We’ll go on a little vacation, my case and I. This case is only for major opportunities.

I make my own straps. They’re wide and short enough for me to comfortably carry a heavy weight over long distances. I do my daily push-ups with my case on my back; sometimes empty, sometimes full.

I conduct tests with different camera angles, using my cellphone for the front and a tiny second camera for the rear, snapping pictures both on foot and on my bike. I compare results with and without the case. Only after I’ve observed the same reaction four different times am I satisfied that the case is invisible.

It’s a lot of effort just to conceal my weapon. It goes without saying that to carry a guitar around, you also have to know how to play it. I learn eleven popular songs, which I’ll be able to sing around a campfire. Eight in English; three in French. There’s nothing sweeter than the smell of a campfire.

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