“I don’t know. I should be better informed.”
“You’re gorgeous,” she will whisper, simply, e opening her legs and riding him.
Then, she will start kissing him again.
187 days earlier
The wooden construction will stand alone among the evergreen plants at the top of the promontory on the bay of Onna Son, which will shine with a thousand lights in the evening. The man will follow the two women to the wooden room on the third floor, below the tower overlooking the sea, accompanying them to the exit. The Japanese woman will open the sliding door, going out into the hallway, reaching into her purse and moving her hair behind her ear.
The girl will move with surprising speed for her height. The turn on the left foot will be very fast, and she will hit the thin man on the left thigh, on his supporting leg, just above the knee. The man will shout weakly, taken by surprise, and his right arm will reach for the gun holster under the opposite shoulder. The girl, after immediately resting her foot on the ground, will kick him again, striking this time with another low kick on the inside of the other thigh, the right. The thin man will have pulled out the gun, but he will find himself completely off balance, and, losing his footing, he will stumble. The girl, a head taller than him, will grab his wrist and twist it with an iron grip, making him rotate unnaturally, dislocating his right shoulder. The thin man will shout, dropping the gun to the ground. The girl will sweep it into the corner with a kick. The thin man will curse, slipping on his supporting foot, with sore legs, his knees pounding on the wooden floor and producing a dull noise. At that moment, the girl will grab him by the back of the head and violently lift her knee, which will strike the thin man’s face, fracturing his nasal septum and sending him back a meter to slam first his back and then his head against the ground. The whole scuffle will not last more than a couple of seconds.
The elegant woman will return to the room and close the door. “Now I’m going to explain to you why this is happening,” the woman will say very calmly. “All this is not happening because you are a greedy bastard who gets overpaid for his work.” She will emphasize the word bastard.
The rain in the night will cover their muffled sighs.
Whiley will watch the woman’s bare back turned towards the wall, illuminated by the first light of dawn filtered through the courtyard window curtains. It must have stopped raining. His left arm will hug her side, while his eyes will dwell on her dark hair, spread on the pillow. Even if he wants to, he won’t dare move his arm, and he’ll stay still, trying to hear her breath.
He won’t be able to sleep, but he will know that she too will have her eyes open, and that she will be staring at the wall.
The thin man will be rolling on the floor, moaning and trying to somehow get back upright, bringing his left hand to his face and then looking at it, covered in blood. “Whore!” His voice will sound shrill. “Damn little whore!”
He will drag himself to the floor, failing to get back on his feet. He will stretch his left arm and rest his left hand on the low table, leveraging to try to get up.
“And what Chiyeko will do to you now, if I know her well, ah, which incidentally does not seem so minor to me, has nothing to do with your last sentence, which you could have avoided. You know she’s deaf. I don’t know if you realize it, but she reads lips...”
When the girl supports her entire weight on his arm resting on the low table, placing her sneakers at his elbow, it will crack with the noise of a broken branch, producing a stabbing pain in the man. The thin man’s scream will be desperate, very high and prolonged.
The woman will approach the girl, who will look, smiling, at the man on the ground, putting her hands to her ears and then pointing to the thin man writhing on the floor. “Chiyeko, fuck, stop this asshole’s mouth!” she will say with great gestures, looking the girl in the eye. “It’s driving me crazy!”
The girl will see the woman holding her hands over her ears, then look around, grab a silk curtain, tear it into two strips, then wad one and forcefully stick it in the man’s mouth. With the second strip she will bind his mouth several times, finally tightening a knot around the nape of his neck. The woman will take her hands off her ears, hearing the screams smothered in the gag. The girl will sit straddle the lean man’s back, pull her leather belt out of her pants, take one end of the buckle, and stick the noose around the man’s head, pulling it and bending his back upwards.
“There, that’s a little better,” the Japanese woman will say, walking up to the chair in front of the desk.
Friday, 8:39 a.m.
The old electric car will fly fast, that morning at the end of November, in the lightly trafficked suburban street, among the old houses, disused factories, closed breweries, and lowered shutters. When it stops along the driveway, under the now bare plants, a warm sun will peep through the clouds, moved by the usual wind, to which the woman will now be accustomed.
The black woman will get out of the car, folding herself into her jacket, with a smile on her lips. She hasn’t felt so good in a long time, and she won’t be able to explain why. Or rather, everything happened so suddenly, so amazing, so strange. She will lock the car, walking down the driveway, thinking that in the morning, when she got up, about six, to go back to her room, he was still awake. She remembers asking him to wait for breakfast with her and his promise. Then she stayed daydreaming in her bed, until it was time to get Niki up, shortly after seven. At breakfast, the little girl will not have asked questions about the sleeping man on the couch, but then, in the car, while her mother takes her to school, the little girl will have plenty to say. She will have talked about how they cooked together in the evening, ate so many good things, and how John could make hamburgers well, and also that after dinner he was studying strange, curved lines. But Niki had convinced him to watch holographic cartoons with her on the couch. And then she fell asleep; she didn’t remember when.
What’s going on with you?
The woman will cross the garden, walking along the path. Maybe, she’ll think, she should tell John that if he wants to, he can stay a little longer.
Don’t be silly.
That man won’t be able to erase her past. Of course, it’s not just about skin color. He has nothing to do with this place, she will keep repeating to herself. She had never been able to study, and he seems like some kind of professor, by comparison, one who speaks differently from most of the men she’s met, a polite one. He may seem insecure, but at the same time determined.
The man’s groans will be muffled in the makeshift gag.
“I was explaining to you,” she will continue, sitting down, “that you really asked for it, poor asshole. Chiyeko would have killed you anyway, you can rest assured about that. But she wouldn’t have reduced you to the pitiful rag you are. Look at you, you really suck.”
The woman will sit down, looking with interest at the thin man, his trembling legs, sprained right shoulder, and unnaturally bent left elbow, forcing him to look her in the eye with his head pulled back by the girl sitting on his back, pulling up on the throat with the strap.
“Do you know what your worst mistake was? You really shouldn’t have forced her to drink your filthy whiskey. It’s something she can’t stand, you know?” She will bend forward, speaking slowly as if to reveal a secret. “She hates alcohol and I also told you that. And she hates being given orders. In particular, if it’s a man who does it. So, all things considered, let’s say you really pissed her off. I honestly don’t feel like I’m wrong. Besides, you know, the bitch really enjoys being violent, and in that you and I are a little—how to say—in conflict of interest. After that, she becomes incredibly hungry for sex.”
The man’s face will now be a mask of pain, the yellow bandage will be filling with the blood that will catch him from his broken nose.
“The girl is a little nuts, you know?” she will say, moving a hand in the air, as if to indicate a minor defect.
“But since you are about to come t
o a nasty end,” the woman will continue talking softly, taking out her compact and getting comfortable in the armchair, “it seems right to let you know exactly the reason. And I want to be precise, it’s a matter of style. I want you to understand the importance of fairness and style; it’s only fair that you know why you have to go. Propriety and style are important values, you know?”
The woman will begin to touch her face, looking into the mirror, while only smothered moans will come from the thin man.
“This, you see, has nothing to do with your exorbitant request. Oh, no, that might have been fine for me too. If you’d told me your fucking price right away, I could have accepted it.”
However, he will have a particular sensitivity with Niki, which the little girl felt. No experience and not even wanting to impress her. She will think of just one word: simplicity. That man, so tense and nervous the night they met, even frightened, had spent the day doing strange things, without telling her much. In fact, practically nothing.
What the fuck have you got in your head?
And then, probably, coincidentally, he had sought a moment of serenity in Niki’s company. Perhaps he had tried not to think about his problems.
But what’s he hiding?
The woman will enter the house and take off her jacket, laying it on a chair. A man of this kind, young, well-educated, probably with a good job, but what kind of problems could he have to prevent him from sleeping in his own bed? In a way, luckily for her.
Fool.
Something really serious must have happened to him; unless it was all a frame. What if he staged all that comedy just to take her to bed?
No, I’m the one who approached him. He wouldn’t have tried.
Unless of course he staged everything hoping she’d make the first move. Of course, if he had such a fantasy, in a way, he would have deserved to be successful.
Fuck, you’re a single mother, not a thirteen-year-old girl.
And then, it would be unlikely for someone like him to create such a complex story just to sleep with someone like her. Paying almost two thousand Eurodollars? The black woman knows in her heart that she is still beautiful, but will also know very well that girls ten years younger than her would be much easier to pick up for that figure, without many complications. And without having to spend two nights on a sofa, half squashed. No, there will have to be a different explanation, she’ll think, approaching the couch. The man will still be asleep. When she went out in the morning, with Niki, he was still awake; he probably fell asleep afterwards, without setting the alarm clock.
The woman will cross her legs and start moving to the right, causing the silver sandal to dance. “No, it has nothing to do with price. And I’ll even go as far as to tell you that I was okay with even the first increase, filthy bastard.” She will emphasize again the last word, continuing to look into the mirror. Then she will bend forward to look him in the eye, opening the palms of her hands upwards.
“But what you shouldn’t have done was not just to blackmail me, but fuck me with your friend, who went snooping in my life!” she will shout into his face at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done it because that asshole went to investigate my client, what he did, where he slept, how much fucking money he spent! You shouldn’t have because if I let you continue your miserable life now, that asshole will certainly talk, and all my enemies in the other clans would spread the word that I’m weak, if I let myself be screwed by a ridiculous little man like you! And I wouldn’t, because if I did, not only would I no longer be the queen of Okinawa, but I’d soon be in a fucking grave!”
The girl will pull the strap more; the man will only emit smothered whines.
“Instead,” the woman will resume, regaining control and lowering her voice again. “I’ll tell you what will happen. Now, you’ll end up in the shit you deserve, but I’ll allow that poor asshole, your friend, to live. Then he can tell everyone what happened when he put his nose in my business. Tonight, my friend and I are going to celebrate, laughing at your end.”
The woman will watch the thin man on the ground, his right eye reddened, his left covered by the tuft of hair slipping over one side of his face, body shaken by trembling.
“But I have one last important question for you, and I would like you to think carefully before you answer. I might as well change my mind about it. Think about it, your miserable life depends on the answer,” she will continue, taking her time as the thin man looks at her with one eye open. “So, I would like to know, do you still think you were right to try to screw me?”
The black woman will see the man’s jacket, pants, jacket hanging on the wall.
I need to know.
After all, the black woman will think, there’s nothing wrong with it, and he won’t notice anything. She will take the jacket resting on the armchair, put her hand into the inner pocket, and pull out his wallet. She will walk away a few steps, go to the kitchen, and open it. A few dozen Eurodollars, as he said, almost all spent. Cards, various cards. She will take the bank card and open her own personal display, inserting the personal card. Four banks will appear. Four banks, she’ll think, I’m having a hard time keeping one account open. All four will deny access. She will take out the personal ID card, inserting it into the display. She will find out that Whiley is a few years older than she imagined, single, born in the upper neighborhoods, a young gentleman. Then the résumé will appear. Long.
And who is this, some kind of scientist?
The woman will be in a hurry; he may wake up, and she would have to answer embarrassing questions. She will find another card and insert it into the display. The card will report his current occupation, something having to do with the analysis of access to the world holographic network. It will look like a position as a clerk, something like that, in a company called Medoc. All normal, almost normal, apart from the closed accounts. The woman will put the cards in the wallet, quickly and a little embarrassed, and will return to the living room, trying not to make noise with her boot heels. She’ll take his jacket and put it on the couch, watching the man sleep. She will feel guilty for doubting him, then take her jacket from the chair and approach the hooks on the wall to hang it. Whiley’s jacket will be poorly supported, and the woman will lift it up to hang her own. It will feel heavy. The woman, intrigued, will put a hand in the pocket and feel a metal object.
When she pulls out her hand, she’ll be horrified to see the gun.
The morning light will be filtering from the pink curtains of the large central window overlooking the courtyard. The black woman, heart beating fast, will look for her purse.
The man will try to say something, but only a long series of inarticulate sounds will come through the gag.
The woman will lay the compact down and pick up her lip gloss. “Did you understand what he’s saying?” she will ask the girl, laughing and moving her hand near her ear. “I don’t. But do you care what this asshole wants to say to us?”
In response, the girl will tighten her grip, arching the thin man’s back even more. Now, no more than confused gasps will come from him, his body trembling and only one eye open, the other covered with his messy hair.
“I basically agree,” the woman will conclude, polishing her lips. “Now it’s time to go. Then Chiyeko and I will enjoy thinking about your shitty end.”
The thin man will desperately try to move his healthy arm and say something, but his vision will become blurred.
“Bravo, go on, do it for me. Afterwards, she will be much better in bed,” she will say, moving the lip gloss away and looking him in the eye. The last thing the thin man will see is the woman’s leg dangling in front of the chair.
Eventually, the girl will stand up, looking at her. The woman will get up, put the lip gloss in the shoulder bag, and head for the door. The thin man on the floor, between the girl’s legs, will look like a broken doll. The girl will move towards the woman and hug her, trying to kiss her.
“Not here,” she will say, looking her
in the eye “First, we have to clean; we’re professionals. Do you mind, honey? Just do what I told you before. Then we’ll go home.”
The girl will nod, go to the desk, pour the rest of the woman’s glass onto the table, then take the bottle of whiskey, pouring it on the desk and chairs. She will look in the drawers of the desk, take some sheets of paper, then collect the package of banknotes and put it under her sweatshirt. She will take three more bottles from the case, pour one entirely on the corpse, the other two on the curtains, wooden shelves, sliding door, carpet, and wooden floor. Using the lighter, she will set fire to an old parchment taken off the wall.
She’ll check that the car keys are in her purse, then look at the communicator in the kitchen and wonder if she should run away and call the police. Finally, she will look at the man sleeping on the couch.
Niki slept with someone hiding a gun.
The woman will put a hand over her mouth, forcefully repressing the need to scream. She won’t know if she feels anger, fear, disappointment, or all these feelings together. Something inside her will stop her from running away, from calling the police. Something to do with doubt, with the need to know. To understand. To be sure.
The package.
Last night, she’ll think, he hurried out for an appointment, and when he came back, he had a package in his hand. Where did he tell you he put it? The black woman will be confused. She will try to remember, looking at the seconds flowing past on the wall clock. He definitely said it.
In the shed.
“Locked up,” he had specified. The adrenalin running in her veins will make her reason quickly. The pants, the keys are in his pants. The woman will place the gun on the table in the living room, almost in disgust, silently approaching the sofa, then putting her hands in his pants. She won’t find anything in the first pocket, but she will feel the keys in the second.
Futura: Parallel Universes. Book 2 Page 17