Book Read Free

Ascending Shadow

Page 2

by Church K Calvert


  The Barista took my order and handed me a cup of black coffee in an absurdly large, round, short mug. I enjoyed the fact that this was much like getting two cups of coffee for the price of one. They always seemed to subtlety identify those who needed a little extra coffee for a little less. I went to the cream and sugar counter to grab a napkin and survey the area to see if Carolina had arrived. As I glanced over, I noticed a homeless guy who seemed to be staring at me, in a non-threatening sort of way, from the line. He smiled, which I ignored, and I took my seat at a wooden table for two along the wall.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the man from the counter. He had received his cup and was fumbling over at the cream and sugar counter, attempting to say hi to everyone within a five-foot proximity to him. People gave quick hellos or avoided him altogether. He was not necessarily a visually welcoming person. As he finished prepping his coffee, still watching out of the corner of my eye, I saw him begin walking toward my table. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. He strode right up to me.

  “Is this seat taken?” he asked with a smile, pointing downward, towering over the table.

  “No,” I replied, as his question sent a ripple in my mind.

  “Excellent,” he responded, plopping himself down in the seat.

  Once he had sat down, I casually surveyed his appearance. He had dark tattered jeans, second-hand sneakers, a dark denim jacket with a fraying gray hoodie underneath. His light golden hair was shaved close to his head and he had a slight hint of facial hair growing in. His skin seemed relatively darkened by the dirt of the day, looking more like it came from a long day’s work rather than extended homelessness. He had light honey brown eyes that surveyed me with a smile. It was a nice smile that could have been exquisite if he had better dental care. His teeth were slightly discolored but near perfect in alignment apart from one tooth on the top corner facing sideways.

  “I just love this place,” he said with a smile, looking around, both of his hands wrapped around his cup.

  “I’ve never seen you here before,” I replied.

  “Oh, this is my first time. I just moved here a while ago.”

  “By moved, do you mean . walked here?” I asked.

  “What, are you suggesting I’m homeless?” he replied, with slight surprise at my assumption.

  “You’re not?”

  “No. Well, I wouldn’t say I’m well off by any means, but I have a place to stay. Are you homeless?” he asked.

  “What? No, of course not. Do I look homeless?” I asked, offended.

  “Do I?” he asked with double emphasis.

  “I mean. . . kind of.”

  “I have a simple life. A roof over my head, not necessarily the life of luxury, but it is sufficient for me. Plus it helps me maintain my ruggedly handsome looks,” he said with a smile.

  “I see,” I replied.

  “I’m Caleb,” he said, reaching his callused, dirt crusted hand across the table.

  “Dani,” I responded, lifting my cup slightly, and not returning the gesture. He retracted his hand with a smile.

  “So what do you –” he began as someone approached the table. It was Carolina.

  “You’re in my spot,” Carolina said as she walked up, placing her cup on the table, “Move.”

  “Oh, my apologies,” Caleb responded, placing his hand on his chest. “I didn’t know Dani was expecting someone.”

  Carolina just stared at him without response, waiting for him to exit.

  “I’ll go,” he continued, pushing out his chair and picking up his cup. “It was nice meeting you, Danielle.”

  “It’s Dani,” I replied, not granting him my attention.

  He stood up to leave with Carolina looking him up and down in an aggressive manner. Just as he was about to scoot past her, she reached for his jacket near his beltline and pulled it back. Attached to his hip was a small rectangular device like an old beeper from the 90s. She glared up into his eyes.

  “You’re definitely in the wrong neck of the woods, son. Tsk-tsk,” Carolina said, with a devious and threatening grin. Caleb concealed his device, delivered a short smile and nod in my direction, and walked away.

  “You’re so pleasant, Carolina,” I said with a laugh, as she took her seat.

  “He should know better,” she said, laughing, “What did he say to you?”

  “That he’s Caleb and apparently he’s not homeless.”

  “Well, he could’ve fooled me.”

  Carolina twirled her elegant fingernail in the whipped cream of her drink as she observed Caleb walking out the front door and across the front window. Carolina was always blunt, offensive, hostile, and had an aggressive personality. She was an exceptionally acquired taste, but grew on me over the months. She was gorgeous in every aspect. Her ethnicity was a mix of black and Hispanic that collided with a combination of strength and extravagant features. Her hair was dark, full, and wavy, cascading down past her shoulders. Her skin a dark brown with a slight shimmer, making it appear almost golden. She had curves all around, including the lines of her full lips, her eyebrows sculpted to precision. She had various small tattoos strewn about her body canvas. The attribute that drew everyone in was her light green eyes, tantalizing and deadly. Her perfect qualities were only shadowed by a bold imperfection across her throat. There, from one side to the other, was a scar that had healed to protrude and slightly rise from the skin. With all the qualities of beauty possessed by Carolina, this is the first thing people noticed.

  People wonder why Carolina was so cold. I wondered for a long time myself, but after hearing her story I never questioned her again. She had endured a tragic life. From the time she was eight, her mother would let men have their way with her for a couple hundred dollars. She eventually wound up selling Carolina to a sex trafficker for a bigger one-time payout that also managed to unburden her of the responsibility of feeding Carolina. She was forced to sleep with men, raped repeatedly, starved, beaten, passed around from buyer to buyer for years. She never had a family, friends, a chance to go to school, not a scintilla of happiness in her life. The day she got her scar is the day she escaped, the first time she killed a man. She told me from that point forward she would never be a victim again, she would never let a man touch her that way again. In a way Carolina terrified me, but I couldn’t help but respect her.

  Carolina prized herself on her appearance. Her paychecks went directly to her wardrobe. She always had her hair and nails done. She wore high fashion obtained at bargain prices, though no one would question the quality. The only thing that put her out of places in classy establishments was her lack of an educational background and a foul mouth which shined through dramatically in her conversations.

  “I don’t know what the fuck he thinks he’s doing here,” Carolina said, sipping her coffee, and licking the whipped cream from the corner of her lip. Watching her do this sent a small chill through me.

  “He’s not supposed to be here?”

  “He’s one of Law’s guys,” she responded.

  “Wait, what? Law? How do you know?” I asked, immediately intrigued by her knowledge.

  “He wears one of Law’s beepers, that’s how he keeps track of everyone,” she replied. “Doesn’t surprise me. I figured Law would be trying to recruit you at some point.”

  Law was one of the people our boss hated. Apparently Law had it out for Franklin, our boss. We had our network of operations and Law was getting in the way. My knowledge of Law was not extensive, but I knew we were to never engage with him or any of his people.

  “You didn’t know who you were talking to, it’s okay. Franklin doesn’t have to know,” she responded, casually observing my unease.

  “What makes you think Law would try to recruit me? Maybe he’s trying to take me out,” I said.

  “No,” Carolina gave a small laugh, “Law doesn’t work like that, but he does know the flawed flock to this city and he seeks them out to support hi
s cause.”

  “So he’s like Franklin?”

  “No, Franklin runs this town. Law is just in the way.”

  “So why does Franklin hate Law?”

  “If you ask me, personally, I think Franklin’s scared of Law. Law has it out for Franklin bad and Law’s smart. He knows how to get what he wants.”

  “What does Law have against Franklin?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, Danielle,” Carolina said, glancing around in annoyance, “The whole history of Law and Franklin goes back like almost fifteen years. Law was in prison for like ten years, and he’s been out for like five or six years by now. It wasn’t until the last few years that Law even showed up in this town again.”

  “That must be some bad blood to last that long.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “Well, what happened?”

  “Dani, does it really matter? Who cares? Their bullshit past ain’t my problem,” Carolina said.

  “Well, how do you know so much about Law?”

  “I make it my job to know the dirt on everyone. It’s the only way I can stay alive in this town. When you know someone’s secrets, you have value, especially if you can keep those secrets. Anyone who runs their mouth about what they see and hear, well, those people immediately lose that value and become dispensable. You can keep the most powerful person on edge and in the palm of your hand with a well-kept secret, and all it requires is keeping your mouth shut. Yet, most people find it almost unbearable to hold a secret inside of them.”

  “Wow, Caro, that’s so poetic,” I said with a small laugh.

  “Bitch, whatever. I’m just saying, stop asking questions,” she said, taking a long drink of her coffee.

  “For such an intimidating person, you sure do drink some dainty coffee,” I said, observing her whipped cream and chocolate sprinkle filled coffee.

  “It’s a mocha, and I’m mocha, so I drink it.”

  “What do you mean you’re ‘mocha’?” I said with a snicker.

  “Mocha means brown in Spanish, and I’m brown.”

  “Mocha does not mean brown, it means mocha.”

  “Dani, you don’t know,” she said, waving me off with her hand, “I don’t drink that nasty shit you drink.”

  “What, black coffee?”

  “Yeah, ew.”

  “Gaw, you’re so racist,” I replied, making Caro laugh right into her drink, spilling droplets onto the table.

  It was the most beautiful thing when Caro laughed. Her tough exterior would temporarily melt away, producing this innocent, beautiful being. She had a gorgeous smile, and adorable laugh. The moments were generally rare, but seemed to occur more and more as the time we spent together increased. Still, every time it happened, I absorbed every part of that moment. It was one of my favorite things. I tried to conceal my intrigue, as I know this would only cause discomfort for Caro.

  “Anyway,” she said, regaining her composure, “We have an easy gig tonight, and it’s at my favorite place, so dress nice.”

  “The club?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do we have to do?”

  “We’re looking for a Theodore McMillian. He’s been granted VIP access tonight. Apparently Teddy has a knack for straying from his wife every chance he gets, but the asshole’s never been caught. We’re going to go collect some dirt on him, take some pics, send them to Franklin, and enjoy the rest of our night.”

  “Why does Franklin care if this guy’s cheating on his wife?”

  “Franklin cares what everyone is doing all the time. Like I said, the secrets give you the power. Besides, this is easy money, twenty-five-hundred each,” She said with a smile.

  This immediately quelled any further questions by me.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Yeah, I thought that’d shut you up. Do me a favor, take your medicine before you come.”

  “What does that mean?” I was taken aback by her comment.

  “I’m just saying, Dani, we don’t need one of your freak-outs on this job. I heard about the bus incident.”

  “How did you hear about that?” I asked.

  “Franklin.”

  “Franklin’s keeping tabs on me?”

  “Honey, Franklin keeps tabs on everyone, but he must have heard something he liked to be giving you another job so shortly after that.”

  “What could he like about that?”

  “He knows you have power. He knows all of our flaws, he’s just waiting to see how he can use it to his advantage and how it can make him more powerful. Any display of power will intrigue Franklin. We have what he wants, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, so we do his work for him.”

  When I started working for Franklin, I came to realize that there were more gifted people in the world. Franklin, however, did not let us refer to them as gifts. He told us to call them our flaws. Some people had little flaws, some people had all-consuming flaws. Caro’s flaw was her ability to tell when someone was lying. The human lie detector. She referred to it as her having the spirit of discernment, that she could tell when someone was good or evil, see the authenticity of a person’s soul. She claimed to have learned that she possessed this gift the one time she attended church when she was eleven. Franklin kept Caro close when he had meetings behind closed doors. He loved toying with the people he knew were lying to him. He hadn’t quite figured out how to use me, so he gave me odd jobs with Caro. I worried what sort of jobs he might put me up to once he discovered my full potential.

  “Alright, well, I gotta head out. I have a meeting with Franklin before tonight. I didn’t mean anything by what I said about your medication, you know,” she stood up from the table, leaned in, and whispered into my ear, “You know I like your dark side.”

  She ran one of her nails across my jawline as she turned to leave. I glanced up at her with a grin as she walked away.

  “Wear the white shirt!” she shouted back without turning around.

  Chapter Three

  The Gig with a Hitch

  I stood at the edge of the curb, running my boot back and forth across the concrete. I listened to tiny rocks slide against the bottom, feeling them get stuck in the crevices of the sole. I leaned against the street post to pick the rocks that had collected on the underside of my right boot out. I wore dark pants, boots, a dark jacket, and white button up that made my pale complexion appear increasingly fluorescent. I had no sense of fashion, so if Caro told me to wear something, I just did it. Generally, if she requested I wear ‘the white shirt’, it implied she had scandalous plans for our free time that night.

  Caro enjoyed releasing her sexual desires on me. To put it more accurately, her violent desires. Oddly, out of all the harmless people in the world, I was one of the only people she felt safe with, the only one with whom she felt completely uninhibited. My shadow pined for Caro and enjoyed every moment with her. I enjoyed them enjoying each other, glad I was able to offer half of myself to her and that she appreciated that half of me- a part of me that most people had no use for.

  I sighed and watched my breath accumulate in the slightly crisp air of the night. I felt the unease in my composure and reached into my pocket to pull out my orange bottle, pop the top and pour three pills out in my hand. I followed Caro’s directive and tossed them back in my throat. I winced as they creeped down my dry throat. I was reminded of being in the institution momentarily and quickly pushed that thought from my mind.

  Caro pulled up with a screech of her tires, as if she were avoiding rear-ending another vehicle.

  “Hey sexy! Cuanto cuesta?” Caro shouted, laughing at her own joke as she rolled her window down. I strode over and pulled on the handle to the door, it remained locked.

  “What’s the magic word?” she said.

  “It’s fuckin cold, hurry up,” I replied. She unlocked the door, continuing to laugh as I entered the car.

  She had a nice car, good for blending into t
he majority of situations we found ourselves in. It was several years behind the model year, but Caro kept it in pristine condition. I turned the heater up as I leaned my chair back.

  “Seat belt,” she said to me.

  I glanced over and rolled my eyes. I knew it was of no use to argue with her, and so I latched my seat belt. As, I did she pulled out to advance us towards our destination. I sat in silence for several minutes, trying to determine the thousand possible outcomes for this evening. Caro reached over and grabbed my side hard.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, just getting my mind right for tonight.”

  “Ugh, you’re all cranky. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken your meds,” she said, making me produce an irritated expression. “Danielle, I’m kidding. Please relax, you stress me out when you’re all high strung. I just want to have fun tonight. Come on.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey,” she said, sliding her hand up the inside of my leg and gripping my thigh tightly with her nails, “I need a little bit of that dark side tonight, are you with me?”

 

‹ Prev