Incubus Honeymoon

by August Li

  Pressing my palm against the cheap wood that was nowhere near enough to protect her, I called out, “And remember to say your prayers.”

  “You remember to say yours too!” she answered.

  I did. I prayed hard while I stood on the street waiting for my ride, my breath freezing in clouds around me. Please let her be okay. Please keep her safe. Please, please, please.

  Chapter Ten

  I’D BEEN to Raf’s place up in East Falls a few times, and it always sort of kicked me in the nuts, because it was exactly the kind of place where Ros deserved to grow up: big old trees, parks, bike trails. Good schools and coffee shops and Indian restaurants. No ridiculous mansions, just neat little row houses painted different colors. No marble floors or ballrooms, just cute, cozy places with rosebushes out front and little yards with barbecues and swing sets. Looking at them, imagining having one for my sister, with a pink bedroom on the second floor, made me feel something sharp in my diaphragm. I guess maybe it was longing.

  Raf lived in one of them, a corner house he’d been renovating since I met him even though he could’ve paid someone to have the work done. Hell, if he wanted to, he could’ve lived in one of those ridiculous mansions that took up a whole city block, hired a bunch of maids and a butler. But on paper, Raf was just a humble man, working from home translating novels and textbooks into Spanish, tutoring occasionally. He drove a Jeep Cherokee and volunteered at the library. He was a pillar of the community. He was also a smart man, and I respected him.

  I got out of the SUV and went up the neatly shoveled walk to the porch. The snow around me reached to my thighs, and it was still coming down steadily, though without the blinding, biting intensity it had that morning.

  I rang the bell and Raf answered the door, wiping his hands on a tea towel. He looked just like somebody would expect a guy who translated books to look: tall, brown hair cut neatly, some gray at his temples. Dark olive skin, clean-shaven, in good shape but not a bodybuilder. He wore khaki pants and a fitted V-neck sweater in a rust color that brought out the reddish brown of his eyes. “Dante! I finally installed that espresso machine I was telling you about. Can I offer you something?”

  “Sure. That sounds great.” I stepped into the foyer and knelt down to take off my boots. Raf was very proud of his original hardwood floors. I shrugged off my jacket and left it on a hook by the door, and then I followed him through the living room and into the big, modern kitchen with its terra-cotta tiles, granite countertops, and handblown red glass accents. I took a seat on one of the stools at the island while he fiddled with the massive stainless steel contraption. It clanked and guzzled and puffed out steam. He filled a doll-sized cup with thick black liquid and handed it to me. Smiling, I accepted it and took a sip. Actually, I didn’t like it much—too strong and bitter. I preferred the creamy french vanilla stuff that came out of the machine at the Wawa. Guess I wasn’t very refined.

  “Why don’t we go into the study?” Raf indicated the hall on the opposite side of the kitchen, and I let him lead even though I knew the way.

  When we got there, Raf went behind his old-fashioned desk and set his own drink on a coaster. Behind him, the snow collected in little crescents on the panes of the big bay window, like something off a Christmas card, all sparkly. The lights in there were set into the ceiling, and it gave the room a fuzzy yellow glow, making the floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelves gleam. The gas fireplace set into a stone column in the corner added to the effect.

  I took a seat next to Carl on the leather sofa. I didn’t know he would be here—but then I wouldn’t have seen his truck on the street. Raf was too careful for that. Opposite him was a big guy with a shaved head who just went by Devereux. I didn’t know if it was a first or a last name. He was some relation of Carl’s—a second cousin or something—from Louisiana. In an armchair next to Devereux was his friend Louie, a good-looking guy with long dreadlocks tied in a ponytail. He was wearing a leather jacket tonight, but I knew he had the most kickass sleeve on his right arm—tropical flowers so lifelike you could see the dewdrops on the petals. If I could ever afford to get some ink done, I was gonna find out who his artist was, get something like that for myself.

  “Gentlemen,” Raf said. He nodded to a small woman with pixie-cut dark hair perched on a velvet ottoman next to the fire, her long, thin legs crossed at the ankles. She had big gray-green eyes, and her snug leggings and satin tank top left little of her slim, muscular body to the imagination. Her bone-china complexion might’ve looked sickly except for the deep rose that swept across her prominent cheekbones. “Lady.” Everyone was always saying how hot she was, but Moirin scared the shit out of me. She got pissed off at the tiniest thing and would want to fight—if she wasn’t joking. I could never tell the difference. She liked baiting people, seeing if she could sucker them in, backing them into a corner until nothing they did or said was right. I tried to stay away from her. I wasn’t interested in games that ended with me getting my ass kicked—or grudge-fucking her. Not that she hadn’t tried… both, actually.

  “We have a problem,” Raf continued. “Dante, why don’t you tell the others what happened this morning.”

  I took a sip of the nasty coffee to buy myself a couple of seconds, convincing myself there was no reason to be nervous. All I needed to do was tell them what went down. So I did. “Me and Carl went to pick up the shipment. Weren’t expecting any trouble, but then out of nowhere these two assholes showed up, trying to jack the goods, I guess.”

  “Where are they now?” Moirin asked accusingly, her eyes narrowed.

  “The fucking river,” I answered a little testily, and was surprised at her nod and expression of respect.

  “Describe these men,” Raf prompted.

  “Skinheads,” I said. “A younger one with some Nazi shit tattooed on his face, and a fat one with a beard.”

  Raf steepled his fingers, pursed his lips into a thin line, and nodded. “This retaliation isn’t completely unexpected. These white supremacists have been trying to gain a foothold in the area. The… current political climate has encouraged them to be bold, made many of them feel validated in beliefs that no doubt all of us find despicable. Now, you know how I do business. I am a supplier of quality items, and I don’t discriminate. I have been asked to, upon many occasions and by many organizations, all of whom would stand to benefit if their competition didn’t have access to my products. I’ve stood by my position, however, and I’ve gained the respect of the various factions in this city: the Black Mafia, the Dominicans, the Puerto Ricans, the Triads, the Poles, the Irish… even the Italian families here and in New Jersey and New York. I’m Dominican myself, but even that hasn’t swayed me toward favoritism. Remaining neutral has served me quite well.”

  “Nobody’s had the bollocks to try and steal from us before.” Moirin shook her head.

  “I made an exception to my policy when I was approached by this gang,” Raf said, looking at each of us in turn, meeting our eyes. “They call themselves the White Liberation Front, and until now they’ve been a rural movement, operating out of central Pennsylvania and upstate New York. These… individuals are known mostly for human trafficking, specifically the abduction and sale of boys and girls of color—often the children of illegal immigrants—for purposes I don’t think I need to describe. They make no secret of the opinion that certain people belong in the servitude of others. I declined to do business with them, and they weren’t happy.”

  Moirin got to her feet, made a fist, and smacked it against her other hand as she paced in front of the fire. “No. No fucking way. The Irish won’t stand for this. Kids? Hell no. There’s just some things you don’t fucking do.”

  Devereux nodded and leaned back. His face was in shadow, but the firelight glinted off his eyes. I wouldn’t have fucked with him on a dare just then. “Tell me where to find them and I’ll take a crew and wipe them off the face of the planet, you can be sure.”

  I was feeling a little sick, the espresso rising lik
e lava up my throat. All I could picture was Ros’s scared face, kids like her, kids who didn’t matter because their families didn’t have money…. “Fuck. I’m glad I killed those assholes.”

  “You did good work, Dante,” Raf said.

  Carl nodded and patted me on the back. “Clowns never knew what hit ’em. This boy right here like Jesse James, and I ain’t playing.”

  That reminded me. “My gun. The Colt. I had to get rid of it. I need another one.”

  “I don’t work out of my home,” Raf said.

  “I need another one!” What if these jerk-offs came looking for us, for my sister? What if I had put her in danger? “Raf, I need one.”

  “We’ll. Talk. Later.” His tone invited no argument, so I nodded and tried to take another sip of the coffee. My hands were shaking so bad, the rim of the cup knocked me in the teeth. I set it on the floor and folded my hands in my lap, hoping nobody had noticed. I couldn’t afford for them to see me as a liability. As long as I kept this job, I could take care of Ros and keep putting some money back so she could go to college someday. I was a high school dropout—I wouldn’t get another job that would even pay enough to keep us fed. I tried to let the tension out of my neck and shoulders while I waited for the conversation to continue.

  “I don’t intend to retaliate,” Raf said.

  “You’re shitting me!” Moirin’s eyes widened until I thought they’d drop out of her head.

  “No, ma’am, I am not. I won’t seek retribution, but know this: I will keep these pieces of filth out of my city, away from the children who live here. I will do what it takes to ensure they don’t gain a single block of territory, not a single inch. Now, I am owed a lot of favors by a lot of people, but I would prefer to handle this internally.”

  “Well, it goes without saying that if these bastards show their faces in any black neighborhood, they won’t be leaving again,” Louie said. “I’ll spread the word. See to it.”

  “Same goes for the Irish,” Moirin said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “It ain’t the black and Irish kids we need to be worrying about,” Carl said. “We need to get the word out to the neighborhoods where people might not have papers, where they can’t go to the police if a kid turns up missing.” He smiled. “I’m just an old junkman, and I talk to a lot of people. Just an old man shootin’ the breeze. That’s me.”

  “Excellent,” Raf said. “If we can bring people together, make them forget their differences for a common cause, we can drive these scumbags out of Philadelphia. I don’t expect a lasting peace, only a united front until we achieve our goals.”

  “I’ll see that I make that plain to ’em, boss,” Carl said.

  “Let the Haitians and the Pakistani communities know they might see some of our crew from time to time,” Devereux said in his leisurely accent. “Tell them we are there to hunt us some Nazis. We won’t sell on their turf or interfere with any business they’re running.”

  I wanted to help, and then I remembered: “I took a cell phone off one of the bodies. A set of car keys too.” I pulled them from my pocket.

  “Well done, boyo!” Moirin said, clapping. “Give them here. I have a friend who’ll see what we can find out from these.”

  I tossed them, and she caught the phone in her right hand and the keys in her left.

  “It’s late,” Raf said. “All of us should get some rest. Thank you for coming. There’s no need to drag this out, but as soon as the weather breaks, let’s start spreading the word. Few people in this city will want to make enemies of us, but if they are dealing with these people, that’s what they’ll do. Conversely, let them know their aid in this matter won’t be forgotten.”

  Everyone got up to leave, and I followed them, even though I wasn’t sure who would be giving me a ride home. I felt like I was in a nightmare, and there was some security in knowing I could still get up and walk away, that I still had control of my body if nothing else.

  “Dante.” Moirin stopped short, causing me to bump into her back. She looked over her shoulder at me and winked. “You look like you could stand to take your mind off your worries, boyo.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “You mean to say you wouldn’t like a pretty girl to distract you for a bit?”

  I gritted my teeth and held my temper. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit. “I appreciate it, Moirin, but I just need to get home.”

  “Ha! You thought I was offering?”

  Dammit, I’d fallen into her trap again. “Of course I didn’t think you meant you would—”

  She turned to face me, hands on her hips, and now her nipples grazed my chest. Great. “Oh, am I not pretty enough for you, then?”

  “You’re very pretty.”

  “Well, well. If you like what you see, why not do something about it?”

  Raf intervened to save me, thank Christ. “I need a word with Dante.”

  I turned back toward Raf’s desk. “Yeah?”

  Moirin giggled. “I’m only taking the piss out of the lad, Raf. No need to defend him. Trying to get him to laugh was all I was doing.” She patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll be on my way.”

  “How about if I give you a ride home?” Raf stood and pushed his desk chair in.

  “Yes! I mean, that would be great.”

  By the door, I got into my boots and coat. Another few inches of snow had fallen while we talked in the study, and it crunched beneath my feet as I followed Raf to the Jeep. I got inside while he cleared the windshield with a brush.

  “What a storm!” Raf said as he started the engine.

  “Sure is. Came out of nowhere too.”

  “Listen, Dante. You’ve been with me for a few years now, and you’ve always been dependable and loyal. I’d like it if you would let me move you and Rosalind somewhere safer. I know you worry when you have to leave her behind, and I don’t like asking you to do it. I have a nice little apartment south of here, on Cherry Street, not too far from Franklin Square and Chinatown. It’s a nice area, and I think it would be good for the two of you. It won’t be hard for me to make it look like you’re paying rent. In fact, it’ll help me launder some of my money. That was the reason I bought it in the first place. What do you think? The schools are good, and there are parks and museums close by. Lots of nice places to eat. Plenty of history.”

  The snow streaked past the windows as he drove, making me feel like we were going down a tunnel. Like I was still at home playing Mario Kart with my sister, things blurring past in my peripheral vision, little more than smudges. I swallowed hard. This was what I wanted for Ros, and it would be stupid not to say yes. But then what would happen to my mom? She wouldn’t pay the electric bill, and the place would be freezing. She wouldn’t pay the rent, and she’d end up out on the street. Fuck. No matter how I looked at it, Mom would die without me there to make sure things got paid. To keep food in the house and remind her to eat once in a while.

  But she was an adult, and she’d had her chance. Ros deserved a chance. She shouldn’t have every opportunity taken away from her because she was unlucky enough to be born into our family. She had as much right to a life as someone who’d been born into a rich family, and I couldn’t make sure that happened, not on my own.

  “Dante? What do you think? I’d love to have you and your sister live there, and I wouldn’t take it out of your pay. Call it a bonus.”

  “I… shit. That’s so generous of you, Raf. I’ll think about it, okay?” Somewhere, not even buried too deep, I knew I’d say yes. Shit, I had to—even if it meant not being around to make sure Mom stayed alive.

  We pulled up in front of my building, and the place looked sadder than ever, lopsided and ready to collapse under the weight of the snow. I didn’t imagine anyone would care enough to dig it out. It sure as shit wouldn’t be the only condemned building in this area that people were content to ignore while it slowly crumbled. I reached for the door handle, but Raf caught my arm, stopping me. He reached into his pocket and pres
sed a wad of cash into my hand. “You’ve earned this.”

  I clutched the money to my chest, my cheeks hot. I was ashamed of my need, of my desperation. Ashamed that I couldn’t provide for my family. But I was in no position to turn it down. “Thanks, Raf.”

  He looked out the windshield, where the snow grew thicker and thicker on the glass. “Those guns today, they came all the way from Russia. Smuggled into Alaska, down the West Coast, around South America, and all the way up to Maine where they were hidden underneath lobsters to get to me.”

  “Thought I noticed a funny smell,” I said, forcing a smile that I doubted fooled Raf.

  He was still holding my arm, and he stared into my eyes with an expression I couldn’t quite identify. “This was an important shipment, one I put a lot of work and planning into, and one I needed. You made sure it got to me. This isn’t charity, Dante. I… I value you. I want to keep you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “Except to bed. I’ve been awake close to forty-eight hours, and my ass is kicked.”

  “I understand. Please consider my offer.”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

  I got out of the Jeep, but Raf didn’t pull away until I closed the door to our building. I trudged up the stairs, my feet feeling like cinder blocks. After I got Ros off to school in the morning, I could spend the whole fucking day facedown in my pillows, and I couldn’t wait.

  The door to our place was cracked open. Instantly alert, I pulled the snub-nose from my pants and shouldered into the apartment. Dark. Quiet. An infomercial played on the TV—hairspray with no alcohol.

  Ros’s door leaned against the wall, torn from the hinges, my padlock on the floor, the doorframe splintered. The dolls were scattered across the floor, and one of my mom’s old college books lay open at the foot of the bed. I flung open the closet door and pushed aside the dresses and sweaters. Her shoes stood in a neat row.