by K T Rose
Biv took a lazy step forward and grabbed a hand full of Nick’s hair. Then, with a quick single maneuver, he placed a big hand on Nick’s chin and the other on the back of his head. He twisted.
The sickening crack sent a jolt through my chest. My mouth dropped as fast a Nick’s lifeless body had.
“No,” I whispered. I needed Nick to win. That way, I’d get out and worry about what to do with him later. But now, it was over. My only way out was gone.
“You’re so stupid!” Biv yelled before stomping Nick’s back. He spat. “We could’ve had it all! And you let her go! You traded on me!” He kicked at Nick’s side. “Then you tried to kill me!” He spat on Nick again, this time, it landed on his cheek. “Nobody turns on me and lives to talk about! What d'you think? You thought she was going to march off into the sunset with you, huh? She’s gone and she probably went to the police, you stupid fuck!” He brought his boot down onto the side of Nick’s face.
I stared back, eyes full of tears, as Nick’s eyes watched me under that table. With every stomp, the skin of Nick’s forehead split, pushing bone out and spilling the gore that was once his head.
I cupped my mouth. Blood spurted, splashing across the floor before Nick’s skull caved, collapsing and flattening, turning the hard thuds from Biv into slouching slaps.
If he found me, I’d end up worse. My face crumbled. Yes, Biv was bigger than me. But I was smarter. Although I hadn’t counted on him going through with killing his own brother, the fight was supposed to be enough of a distraction for me to get away. But there were a change of plans.
After tucking the dagger in my waistband, I rolled back toward the wall. Then I pressed my hands against the chilly stone. I pushed while standing. The thing went over, forcing Biv to stumble. His shoulder hit the wall by the door.
“Shit,” he said as the table tilted, going surface down onto the floor, coving Nick’s body. I sprung up, almost going down as the hole in my leg screamed out in sharp pangs. I didn’t care. I’d let them take the damn thing if that meant I made it to a hospital in the first place.
Biv growled as he pushed himself from the wall and launched himself for me. I hopped over the table, ready to fall into a sprint, but I fell forward, landing belly down on the overturned table after Biv shoved me.
He grunted as he approached.
I turned and slammed my foot into his gut.
He spat out a harsh umph, but he grabbed my leg. I pulled my leg and twisted at the hips. “Let me go!” I yelled.
“Oh.” He panted. “All right.”
He bent at the waist and grabbed my other leg. He pointed to the bloodied hole. I shrieked when he forced his finger inside. He moved it around, pestering frayed nerves and making my stomach turn as my body overloaded on the sharp impulses shooting though my limbs.
“Hurts, don’t it?”
“Stop! Please!” I said.
“You gonna act right?”
“Yes!”
“You gonna corporate?”
I panted through clenched teeth.
“All right,” he said.
He peered around. “Where the hell did he put that tape?”
He dropped my legs and put a finger up. “Oh, and one more thing.” He stomped my leg. I lifted my upper body and my breath caught in my chest. The writhing pain of my torn bone masked the aching from the hole in my calf. I let out a guttural cry. My vision blurred, not only from the pain, but fury. I smelled blood and felt heated hatred crawl through me.
Biv leaned in with a shit-eating grin across his face. “This way, you won’t leave.”
Staggering breathes evaded my lungs as I spat out sharp cries of anguish. Though pain was great, he was where I wanted him. That arrogant gap-tooth smirk couldn’t’ve been in a better place.
Holding his eyes in mine, I pulled the dagger from my waistband and shoved the blade in his eye and gripped his collar tight.
He screamed and stumbled back, still caught in my grasp, taking me up with him.
I pulled the blade free and lodged it into his throat. I kept stabbing, carving his face with bloodied gashes. He swung me around, trying to break free. But I wasn’t letting go. I didn’t care about his blood splashing me in the face, hitting my tongue, or bathing my vision in red. It was his turn to go down.
As his groans reduced to gurgles, I let him go and fell to the floor, landing near Nick’s feet. Biv fell back into the mantle, disturbing the goat head and candles. Both fell, lighting the wooden panels and turning the goat head into an inferno.
I dug my elbows into the floor, pulling myself to the door and up the hallway. I choked as a bloom of smoke spread through the house. But I kept crawling, inching for the front door.
Once I reached the living room, I pulled myself to my one good foot and dragged the other behind as I hopped for the golden doorknob. Heart racing and head spinning, I twisted the knob. Crackling flames chewed up the hallway, hot on my heels.
I pulled the door open and hopped across the porch for the stairs. I went to step down, but instead I tumbled down to the walkway.
Laying on the hard ground, I sucked down night air. Humid and hot. Sticky and thick. Glass exploded above me, sprinkling the yard with debris. I groaned as I turned on my side and then to my belly. On one knee, and both hands, I pulled my bloodied and broken leg behind me. My skin took up gravel as I pulled myself to the highway.
“Help!” I screamed. “Help me!”
No one darted from the house next door or across the highway.
It didn’t matter.
In fact, it was useless. I needed to reserve my dwindling energy. I followed the twilight on the horizon, climbing the ground for the city.
I hope Nick didn’t go to hell. There was good in him.
But Biv?
He needed help getting there.
Today’s Special
The chiming bell pulled my attention from Billy’s Paper Route arcade game to the front of the parlor. I nodded at Tony as he strolled in, his round belly leading the way.
“What’s going on, Tony?” I let go of the joystick, allowing Billy to crash his bike into an oncoming mail truck, which ended the game. The abrupt zapping sound reminded me of my alarm clock, making me cringe and twitch a little.
I rounded the counter for the second time that day. I went to the freezer next to the kitchen door and pulled it open. It excelled a gust of frosty air. Cartons of gelato lined the racks from the floor to just above my head.
Tony approached the counter. A glint of worry dragged his dark eyes. “Hey Jackie,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Living the dream,” I said. I pulled vanilla gelato from the top rack and topped off the carton under the glass display just behind me. The sweet sugary smell of fresh ice cream never got old.
“Good. Good. You in school yet?” Tony walked around the booths and tables slowly, looking around as if he wanted to buy the place.
“Nah.” I stored the vanilla carton and pulled a chocolate one. “I mean, I will be, but not until winter. I have a hefty balance to cover.” I sighed. My tongue felt lazy when it came to explaining why I was still there. I was the one who talked it up and even bragged about my acceptance to MIT. I boasted about how I was going to be something greater, something different from anyone here. I wouldn’t be stuck in the city, taking up odd jobs and living out of one-bedroom apartments and renewing my bus pass. Instead, I’d have a high-end car and a four-bedroom house where my future wife and I would raise our two kids. The last bedroom would be my study where I’d play games and fuck around on the internet. Yup. I’d break the tie, elevating my family. Not here, scooping up ice cream and cleaning toilets. But taking the longer way around had its perks. A debt free one. Ma promised it.
“No loans, huh?” He pressed his stubby hands on the counter and stretched his short neck out. He peered around me from the side of the arcade games to the kitchen door.
“Nope! Not one. You know h
ow Ma is. Luckily, Uncle Pauly gave me an opportunity to work here.”
“Yeah?” He cracked a half smile. “And how’s that?”
I lifted the scooper. “You’re looking at it. This along with my paper route and bussing tables at Dotty’s, that is.”
“Uhn. I never knew an ice cream parlor could cover a six-figure bill.”
I scoffed. “Apparently Uncle Pauly’s can.” Honestly, I was just as confused about how Uncle Pauly was going to give me over three hundred a week, if my math was right. It wasn’t like the parlor got much foot traffic with fall rolling in, which was odd because the parlor was the only place to get ice cream in the winter. Ever since Mr. Rubbo came up missing, Uncle Pauly bought his ice cream place and converted it into an insurance agency. The lowest insurance in town. Renters insurance was almost free.
“Well, all right. Seems like you got it all figured out. What do you do all day? I know it’s deader than—"
“It’s all right. Not too boring. Not too busy. Just right. I got the arcade games to keep me busy.”
He walked to the picture window and watched the street. Cars lined the curb on both sides. “Well that’s good to hear.”
“How’s Ant doing over at uh…” I liked pretending that I didn’t know where my friend was, but we all knew. Uncle Pauly, Tony, and the boys threw a block party for me and Ant not even a month ago. Food, drinks, and people stretched for miles, congesting the streets. It felt like the entire city was there, and they probably were, especially for the burgers and hot dogs. The food highlighted the day, the best thing I’d eaten since I tried venison chili. Tender and well-seasoned, they made me want to start a food blog. I tried talking Uncle Pauly into adding them to the menu, but he grinned and said, “They’re too special for the menu.” Uncle Pauly only showcased his famous food once or twice a year for hard core accomplishments or pop up sales.
“He’s up at Cornell and he’s liking it,” Tony said. “Banging broads and throwing parties. The works.” He smirked. “He’s getting major use out of that condo I got him. But I could tell he’s a little bummed you didn’t join him.”
“That’s nice.” Jealousy burned my gut. One day, I’d be in pursuit of a better life. One day very soon. “But he knows I didn’t want to go there.”
“Yeah. Well, when you do go off, don’t forget to give me a call. Let me know so I can get you something.” A frown returned to his droopy eyes. “Uh. You seen Joe around?”
“Who?” I squinted at him. I knew everyone in the neighborhood. I’ve never heard of a Joe.
“Joe. Ya know?” He flattened his hand out in front of his chest. “Yay high, wears sunglasses and pin striped pants. Drives an Audi?”
I shook my head slowly. “Nah, I—”
“Blond? Pale in the face? Blue glassy eyes?”
“Nah. Ain’t seen him. Never heard of him neither.”
“Hm. He’s visiting from New York. Was looking to do some construction. You know, a little revamping. He was looking to buy out the block.”
“Yeah?” I'd heard of some changes coming. Uncle Pauly complained about it every week at Sunday dinner. Gentrification ravaged the South Side. Not here on the west side where the community was tightknit. I’d hate to be the person who tried tearing it apart. Pauly tended to overreact, but I guess he was wrong. Every piece of real estate had a price and people were selling out. Josie’s Cat Barn had been sold to some suits just last week. Come to think of it, she moved from her apartment to a loft off Lake Michigan. Everyone was moving up in the world as I sat, stagnant.
“Yeah. He had some good ideas about fixing this place up,” Tony said, eyeing the pictures of Al Pacino and Tony Danza on the wall by the booths. “It’ll bring some rich folks over here. Even pump some money into this old place. Your uncle was really excited about it when I talked to him.” He passed me a nervous grin. “Who knew that was all it took for Pauly to come around to the idea. Mandy’s departure.” He painted an invisible cross on his chest. “May he rest in peace.” He kissed his gold pinky ring and pointed to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry to hear about that. Ant was real messed up about it.”
“Eh. Mandy was old. That’s what happens when your diet’s full of scotch and cigars. They take over.”
I chuckled.
“At least his cigar bar fell into the perfect hands.”
“Really? Already? The man’s been under for all of a month.”
He shrugged. “I know. But life goes on, and so does business.”
“So Joe bought the place?”
“Yeah. And I sold him the Titty Bop. We’re going to knock the walls down and turn both places into one big massage parlor.”
“Who needs a massage parlor around here?”
“You know. The rich people who’ll be moving into the condos they’re bringing in. Can’t get into that phase until Joe and I finalize the buyout of this side of the street.”
“Why this side of the street? Why not over there?” I pointed to the host of brick apartments across the street.
“Well, Joe figured if we knocked this side out, and built apartments tall enough, you could get a nice view of Lake Michigan, which means we can charge an ass load for the penthouses.”
“Ah. Makes sense, I guess.”
“We were supposed to have an important meeting up the block at Joan’s Bodega. I think I talked her into bending on the price. The sooner we head over, the faster we can move on to the barber shop.”
I shook my head as I turned the hot water on, rinsing a rag.
“Old Jasper down at the barber shop said he last saw Joe around here, on 78th at the parlor.”
“Nah. I been here since I opened up this morning and the only thing I’ve seen was some kids and a family here and there. No guy like you’re describing.”
“Hm.” He flashed me a peculiar glare.
“I swear, I ain’t seen him.”
“Nah. It ain’t you. It just funny how people, rather important people, go missing around here when there’s work to be done. Like there’s a fucking vortex in the alley or something.”
“No vortex or wormhole. Just some graffiti and a few dumpsters,” I assured him.
“Maybe I should go check those then?”
“I ain’t gonna stop you. Be my guest.”
I winced at him. None of what Tony said made sense. But the best part about this job was the amount of times I got to do anything. The summer sun was sauntering out, taking the demanding customers with it. If sitting here listening to Tony’s conspiracy theories was the highlight of my day, I’d take it.
“Let me know if you hear or see anything.” He dropped a card on a counter. “And tell your uncle to get in touch with Joe. All right?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Tony let himself out and held the door for a cluster of kids wearing hoodies and swim trunks. Their loud chatter filled the silence of the parlor, and I couldn’t help but laugh alongside them when one boy’s shoe caught hold of the freshly waxed floor and he slid into the splits. Summers in the city were magical like that. Getting beat up and frosted over by long windy winters was enough to keep everyone on edge, especially that long haul to overcrowded trains and buses where I’d rub shoulders with rowdy classmates and nicotine-stitched adults. The desire to crack the windows and let the warm breeze blow in and carry all the animosity away clung to our backs and plastered a four-month smile on our lips, even around this time of year when you couldn’t tell what the weather was by looking at the customers. Though the stubborn northern wind tumbled in, we took advantage of the hot early afternoons.
***
Uncle Pauly shuffled in from the curb, passing the kids a nod as they exited.
“Hey nephew,” he said. “How’s it going?” His salt and pepper hair glistened in the dim light.
“It’s all right. A little slow,” I said, wiping the counter down.
“If you’re bored, play the arcade games.”
/>
“Nah. I’m not too bored.” I spent most days trying to figure out ways to streamline the parlor, giving me more of a reason to do less. A robot could do this job. But Uncle Pauly was old school. Jump suits and expensive colognes were his thing. Mine was fantasizing about a technologically-flooded future.
“Good, good.” He rounded the counter and washed his hands. “You got plans tonight?”
“Nah. Since Ant left, I found myself having too much time.”
“Really?” Intrigue glinted in his gray eyes as he leaned against the counter. “What about your girl? Bianca, is it?”
I sighed. “She’d not my girl. Just a summer fling. And she’s up at IU. She wants to be a nurse. Come to think of it, all my friends are gone. I’m the only one still here.” I was alone on a small island called the West End.
“I bet you miss them, huh? I remember how you little assholes ran up and down this block, spending all types of money.”
I sniggered. “Yeah. From Papa’s Italiano, to Manny’s Candy Shop, Ronnie’s Arcade, then back again.”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “I do miss the smell of that zesty sauce lurking through the air vents from next door.” He peered passed the booths at the wall we use to share with Papa’s. He scoffed. “It’s like your childhood is deteriorating before your eyes.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. But with time comes progress, right?”
I avoided his deep scowl. Ice swirled in my bowls. Uncle Pauly whined about changes to the neighborhood often. Lately, his frustrations have been apparent with those changes moving closer to this block. I cleared my throat. “But yeah. I do miss it. But what can I do about it?”
He smiled and raised a brow. “Do me a favor, will you? You know how we do those deals a couple times a year?”
“You mean those pop-up sales?”
“Yeah, yeah, those. I need you to go grab the burger and hot dog sign.”
I went to the closet, nestled between the arcade games, and felt around through stacks of signs. “Tony stopped by today,” I called out.
“Yeah, what did he want?”