Of Violence and Cliché

by Joudrey, M. C.

  “I left you alone that night because I knew you were safe.”

  “Really?”

  “No. That’s not true. I left you because I had to. The circumstances were bad. I saw you, what you were wearing, the kind of car you were driving and I knew that I came from a different place than you.”

  “You made a poor assumption about me, then. You are making another one now. I just wanted to come say hello because you had stopped those men and helped me.”

  “That’s a crock of shit.”

  “You’ve got no right to talk to me like that.” Her eyes were indignant but mine had a fierceness that took the light out of hers.

  “Look lady, you don’t know a thing about me, where I come from, or the things I’ve done. If I walked away from you that night, I did so for reasons you could never understand.”

  I was angry with her and her expectations. I started to walk away and turned back around for more.

  “I can’t know you, I can’t! And I know you didn’t just come over to say hello.” I lost it a little bit. Women will do this to you, but I’m thankful that I’m a man, just so I can know this feeling all the same.

  She stood there in shock at what I’d just said, and then suddenly I could see her body relax.

  “Have a drink with me.”

  “Can’t. I’m meeting someone.”

  “I’ve got a table reserved. I’m meeting a friend and she’s running late. Have one drink with me.”

  I halfheartedly followed her to her table and we sat down. She caught the server’s attention and placed an order for a whisky and a glass of red wine. The skirted table was rather small and cozy.

  “My name’s Karen.” Once she said it, I realized it didn’t even matter. I felt the way I did about her and I didn’t even know a thing about this woman, let alone her name.

  She gestured towards my face. “Can I ask what happened?”

  “No.” What could I have said?

  “Oh. Okay.”

  There was a moment’s silence between us and then someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was the barman, Mike.

  “There’s a man at the door who says he’s looking for you.”

  “How’d you know he was looking for me?”

  “He described you.” The barman allowed his irritation to show plainly.

  I thanked him, and he walked away, mumbling under his breath.

  “I’ve got to go.” I got up abruptly to leave. I didn’t want to be seen with her, although she didn’t know that.

  “Okay.”

  “I…” I trailed off, unsure of what else to say. I walked away, having regained my composure and focused on the task in front of me.

  At the door, a man was clearly surveying the room. Fletcher was not what I had expected. He was a tall man, lanky but not uncoordinated. He had longer blonde hair with a scruffy five-day growth shadow on his face.

  He also recognized me as the person he was looking for.

  “Kendall, right? Let’s go outside.” We started out the door when Karen came around the corner.

  “William! William, wait a second.”

  I stopped. So did Fletcher, who had a suspicious look across his face.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is my address. If you’re in the area again, maybe you’ll stop by and say hello or something.”

  I took the piece of paper from her hand and tried to smile, although it probably just looked like a scowl.

  Once outside, Fletcher lit a cigarette, taking a deep long drag and letting the smoke out through his nose.

  “Why’d she call you William?”

  “Because that’s the name I gave the bird.”

  “Who was she? Pretty little thing.” He looked back in through the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. I watched as his Form flickered to a black cougar for just a moment.

  “Some broad who helped me pass the time while I waited for you. You’re over an hour late.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” He shifted nervously, knowing Arnie didn’t like it when people were late for appointments.

  “Let’s start walking. I’m sick of this neighbourhood.”

  He did as he was told. I took the piece of paper with Karen’s address written on it from my pocket, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into a garbage bin.

  “Don’t you want to know where she lives? I want to know where she lives.” A sleazy grin stretched across Fletcher’s face.

  “I’ve got plenty of women who I can have whenever I want. I don’t need any hassles from some uptight, uptown chick.”

  “I wouldn’t let that one fly away.”

  “Shut it!” I handed him the package Arnie intended for me to give to him and left him standing at the corner. I headed underground to catch the subway, letting the city evaporate above me.

  CHAPTER 15

  Odds and Ends

  She had been crying. She could see that I knew this and was ashamed of her tears.

  “I was getting better, you know?”

  I didn’t say anything. I just listened. I had been walking around Dark Agnes for around half an hour. I had stopped to see Mex for a drink and then walked the catwalk some more. We had been out on the water since last night and as we made our way back to Toronto harbour with the rising sun, my stomach was starting to turn on me.

  “I should have just accepted my fate by now.” She looked down at her small hands and changed the subject. “I watched you fight last night.”

  “Did you?”

  “I always watch you fight.”

  “That so?”

  “Yes. You’re good, too.”

  “I try.”

  “You know my uncle was a boxer.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “He used to box once month in a town not far from mine. Papa used to take me sometimes. My uncle had a lot of training. He was a very good boxer and would win most of the time.”

  “Sounds like my kind of guy.”

  “You box like him.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What I mean is, I watch you fight and you move like him, sometimes.”

  “You’ve got a big nose, kiddo.”

  She touched her nose. “It’s not big.”

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  “Your nose is bigger than mine in real life though.”

  I smiled back at her. “Sure is. Look, I gotta run. Talk to you later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I walked out of the room and back onto the ship’s catwalk. I was angry with myself for letting her get to me in some way. I needed to stay focused and Danika was breaking that focus with slow certainty. I tried to tell myself to stay with the fights, to keep my mind sharp and my wits about me.

  I closed the door to my room. I was alone and laid down on my bed, contemplating a nap.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?”

  I jolted upright and cursed out loud.

  “You can’t be here! Not here, not now. Get out!”

  Lamia slid her chair next to the bed and sat down, putting her feet up on the edge of the bed.

  “But we were just getting comfortable.”

  “I’m serious. Why are you here?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful that you can ask me anything you like, unlike that awful tabby cat?”

  I just stared at her. I did not have the patience to deal with her banter.

  “Right. How many fights do you think it will take?”

  “To do what?”

  “Come now Willie, to get what you want, of course.”

  “You know something? Before I met you, I’d never seen a woman so beautiful and so naked, for that matter, that I couldn’t stand looking at.”

  “Clever man, good for you. I can take a hint. But remember, each drop of blood will only bring you closer to an ocean of crimson. You would do well to remember that.”

  “I don’t want your advice or your ridiculous metaphors.”

  “And yet I give it to you for free.” She smiled
facetiously.

  “It’s time for you to go.”

  “Mind if I use the door to leave?”

  “Whatever, just get the hell out of here.”

  “See you soon, Willie.”

  She slipped lithely through the door and into the hallway. My hands found my face and started rubbing at my temples. She had managed to rob me of my moment alone. I decided to take out my fury on some poor unsuspecting punching bag in the gym. I needed to hit something.

  CHAPTER 16

  A Phone Call Grocery List

  Standing at the corner of Queen and Bathurst, I rolled a coin between my knuckles.

  “Hey man, got a smoke?”

  You often get asked for things on the streets of this city. I looked the interloper in the eyes.

  “Nope.”

  “What you gonna do with that quarter?”

  “Spend it, eat it, who knows?”

  “Can I have it?”

  “Piss off!” He buggered away a few feet before asking a young woman if she had a subway token.

  I fed my coins into the slot of the payphone and heard the click of the dial tone. I punched the 10 digits that I had memorized by then. It rang three times. I had decided

  I would wait for the fifth ring before hanging up. On the fourth ring, someone picked up on the other end,

  “Hello?” It was her voice.

  “Hello this is Kend, um, William.”

  “Who?”

  “William. We talked a few weeks back at a bar. I can’t remember the name of the place.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I talk to so many guys.”

  “You do?”

  “I’m kidding. Of course I remember you. Wasn’t it more like a month ago when I saw you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes you think I’m available anymore?”

  “What makes you think that’s why I’m calling?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re calling?”

  The noise around me had intensified and a line-up had started in front of me.

  “Hey buddy, you almost done with the phone?”

  I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece.

  “Not yet, beat it.”

  We made plans for Saturday night and I hung up. I started walking east on Queen Street, towards Osgoode subway station and got off at Davisville. I was in midtown and that was on purpose. Arnie had sent me on a job to pick some things up for the girls at the pharmacy in this area for various reasons, one of which was that it was far enough away from his downtown warehouse that he didn’t have to worry about me being seen by someone he knew. The other reasons I’ll get to in a moment.

  I had gone down the wrong aisle. I just stood there staring at the myriad boxes, containers, and other assorted cosmetic products on the shelf. I was being foolish, sentimental in the strangest setting; hair dyes and hand creams, eye shadow and face powder, the most beautiful packaging filled with waxy promises. The lipsticks were lined up perfectly in dotted rows, ordered by shade and saturation. I reached out and picked up a certain brand. “Cabaret Claret” was the color code it had been given. I rolled the silver bullet around in my hand and removed the lid to reveal the vibrant shade. I smiled and returned the lipstick to the shelf.

  I had been sent out to get a list of first aid items for the girls, which was an errand Arnie had someone run for him often. He saw the girls as any other investment or collateral worth caring for, similar to taking a car in for scheduled maintenance. So here I was, filling a basket with vaginal creams, lubricants, topical solutions, band-aids, condoms, and a handful of prescriptions including painkillers and antibiotics, which a doctor Arnie was connected with had written up. He had more than one doctor he used in order to keep the flies away from his shit. He also had certain pharmacists in his pocket, which was another reason I was there. I stepped up to the counter and a man wearing an assistant pharmacist nametag acknowledged my presence.

  “Can I help you sir?”

  “Your name Masterson?”

  “No. He’s on his lunch.”

  “Did he go out for lunch or did he stay in for lunch?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m a friend of his. Here to pay him a visit. Is he here or not?”

  The assistant became uneasy. “He’s in the back.”

  “Tell him Kendall is waiting for him.”

  “Um, okay hold on a minute.”

  The assistant disappeared towards the back room. I was alone in front of the prescription drop-off window. After about two minutes a man who was not the assistant came through the door. He was in his late forties and bald, with eyes that bulged from his head like a fish. He was a thin little man whose skin hung loosely from his body as though it had no elasticity at all. He spoke in a scared and nervous fashion.

  “You people can’t keep coming here. I could lose my job.” He was whispering.

  “Not my problem. Take it up with Arnie.”

  “Shush! Okay, okay keep it down will you?”

  “I don’t see how being inconspicuous is going to help at this point, do you?”

  “Fine, okay. What do you want?”

  I handed him Arnie’s list.

  He looked at it and his mouth opened. “All of this?”

  “No, Arnie just wants some of it. The rest he wrote to practice his cursive.”

  “I can’t. Someone will notice this much missing.”

  “Don’t make me start from the beginning. If I leave here without it…”

  He cut me short with wave of his hand. “Okay, please just stop talking.”

  I smiled. He took the sheet of paper and got to work. He worked quickly. I assumed he sent the assistant on break. It took him ten minutes to fill the various orders, which he handed me in three brown paper bags.

  I had been doing a lot of these assignments for Arnie for some time now. The pay wasn’t as good as the fights but I still got paid. Arnie also had me working directly with the girls and I often received non-monetary perks from those assignments. The work was small-time until a few weeks ago when Arnie and Pink had a meeting with me and asked me to start working on the itineraries for new container shipments of girls from overseas.

  It was Pink’s idea and Arnie went along with it. Arnie liked me, but it was Pink who had taken a real shine to me.

  I was amazed at the intricate organization they had created and how far Arnie’s business arms reached. He had his hands in everything but his bread and butter was the trading and trafficking of human beings.

  The more work I did for them and the deeper I got into their syndicate, the more I was amazed at how much money one single human being would generate in revenue. One female was worth over a million dollars to Arnie and he was trading all over the world. He kept his head operations in Toronto though, due to Canada’s visa exemption policies.

  As clever as Arnie’s whole racket was, his real genius was the creation of an online recruitment and advertising system, which was almost undetectable to law enforcement agencies, not just in Canada but worldwide. As far as operating, the system was very simple, yet extremely effective in both recruiting potential women and clients. Each client had to pass a screening process and answer a series of controlled psychological questions, which helped Arnie and his staff determine if the person was a real client or possibly law enforcement posing as a client. A final background check was also performed. All Arnie needed was a date of birth or social insurance number as well as a mailing address, and he could have an entire profile and dossier created on each client within 30 minutes.

  The efficiency and accuracy of Arnie’s operation, and his understanding of quality control and compliance was incredible. He could teach some of the top tier financial companies in the world a thing or two. For the first little while it was overwhelming and at times, I needed Pink to walk me through it.

  Arnie had gone so far as to set up a series of failsafe protection systems to help mislead law enforcement, including systems that would flag IP addresses
as RCMP or police stations. His safeguards were even accurate enough to flag remote sting operations. Arnie had been in business for almost 15 years and in all those years had never even received a slap on the wrist from the law. In fact, after a while I was convinced they didn’t even know he existed.

  It was around six in the evening when I boarded Dark Agnes, and Pink had been waiting for me. He was sitting in an outdoor lounge chair at the top of the gangplank. He waved me over to him.

  “You get Arnie’s stuff?”

  I nodded.

  “Good boy, give it here.”

  I handed him the bags. He took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it, taking a long drag. He looked at me.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Arnie said you’d have something for me.”

  “He did, did he? Damn, you don’t go easy, do you?”

  He put the cigarette between his lips and shoved his hand into his jean pocket. He took out a wad of cash, unfurled three Robbies and handed them to me.

  “Now go find a girl and leave me alone.”

  I put the money in my pocket and let him finish his cigarette in peace.

  CHAPTER 17

  Checkmate v. Stalemate

  Each piece has a purpose, each with its own strength and weakness. The rook moves in horizontal lines and the bishop moves diagonally, but the knight makes an unorthodox move. Often described as an “L” shape movement on the board, the knight is the piece that most frequently catches an opponent off guard.

  We had played four matches already, all of which Dietrich had won. In the fifth match, I managed to fork his rook and king with my last remaining knight. The loss of his rook evened the scoring.

  Fourteen moves later, Dietrich managed a devastating blow and captured my knight with his bishop. I was left with only two pawns one of which could not move as it was blocked by one of Dietrich’s pawns. Dietrich also had two pawns as well as his bishop. The advantage was his. Still, I gained position on his king with my pawn and had a clear line on the queening square. Dietrich was forced to capture the pawn, which removed any available square for my king to move to and the game was decided a stalemate.