by Matt Whyman
This didn’t stop Lou from expressing his gratitude as he led them into the apartment. Ivan knew damn well why they were here. He had been on hunting trips with his dad a couple of times before. Mostly back in England when he was younger and prone to making mistakes. It felt good to know that finally he was being considered mature enough to give it another shot. If his mind wasn’t weighed down by revenge plans, the boy might even have relished this moment. Just then, Ivan was tempted to tell his dad all about Chad, Bryce and Ryan. Preparing a fatal food poison took planning and precision, after all. Then again, it was all theory so far, which persuaded him to keep it to himself for now. Once he’d quietly laid waste to his tormentors, without leaving a single crumb of proof that he was behind it, Ivan had no doubt that his dad would be very proud of him indeed.
‘Here’s the tile,’ said Lou, crouching in the bathroom with one hand on the floor of the shower. Ivan and Titus stood over him. It was the perfect moment to reach for the garrotte stashed in his toolkit. Instead, the boy’s father observed the cracked tile with one hand on his chin.
‘We could just seal it up, but it’s better to put in a new one,’ he told his tenant. ‘I always like to do a thorough job.’
Offering to make them a coffee, Lou left the pair alone in the bathroom, apologising for the inconvenience one more time. Ivan waited until the man could be heard at work in the kitchen before rounding on his father.
‘You missed your moment,’ he hissed. ‘We could’ve had it done by now.’
Titus looked pained, as if his son had just yelled in his ear.
‘Let’s not rush things,’ he said, and proceeded to rummage through his toolkit. When Titus produced a chisel and a grout remover, it became clear to Ivan that his father’s primary goal here was to waterproof the shower.
‘What’s going on, Dad?’ Ivan glanced into the hall. ‘He’s good to go, right?’
Titus looked wearily at his son. He drew breath to reply, only to be stopped by the sound of footsteps in the hallway.
‘Here you are, gents,’ said Lou, and handed them two steaming mugs. ‘Now, I should get out of your way, but if there’s anything you need, just ask.’
‘Thanks,’ said Titus, who seemed well aware that Ivan was looking at him incredulously.
‘Do you want me to do it?’ asked the boy, and reached for the hammer.
‘Not now!’ Titus grabbed his arm. ‘Not him,’ he added quietly.
‘What?’
‘I like my meat to be mouthy,’ said Titus. ‘The ones who bitch and complain. The disrespectful and the rude. Those that come too close to our lives for comfort. They are fit for consumption, Ivan. Not people like Lou. He’s polite. He’s kind. He’s considerate. The world needs guys like this, Ivan. Eating him would be a waste.’
Ivan listened to his father as if he had no understanding of the words. From the kitchen, Lou could be heard humming to himself as he did the washing-up.
‘Is that why you spared the trainer, too?’
‘The stamina was mostly the issue there,’ said Titus, nodding as if to himself. ‘That young man was quick on his feet.’
Ivan stared at his father for a moment before shaking his head.
‘You’re past your prime,’ he said.
‘It’s important to be selective,’ countered Titus.
‘Look, just let me take care of things!’ Ivan snatched the hammer. ‘Someone’s got to feed the family!’
‘Are you crazy?’ Titus grabbed his son and wheeled him around to face him once more. He did so with such force that Ivan dropped the tool, which clattered to the floor. ‘I am not going to let you pick off a good man,’ he hissed, struggling to contain the force of his feeling. ‘If Lou had behaved any differently, then believe me he’d be dangling by his shoelaces from the shower rail by now, but that didn’t happen and it saved his skin. Now, maybe the time has arrived for you to step up as the provider, but first there’s an apprenticeship to be served, and that begins by doing as I say!’
Ivan considered his father for a moment.
‘We can’t go home empty-handed. Mum will slay you.’
From the kitchen, the jaunty whistling sounded completely at odds with the darkening atmosphere in the bathroom. Ivan had no intention of being the first to break his father’s gaze.
‘We’ll pick up something on the way home,’ he told the boy. ‘Let’s just focus on what we came here to do.’
Ivan watched his father get to work on chipping out the tile. His old man wasn’t getting any younger, he thought, and dropped to his knees beside him.
‘Let me do this for you,’ he said, and gently took the chisel from his hands.
‘But you’ve never taken out a tile before.’
‘I can learn,’ said Ivan, and he continued to tap around the edge where Titus had left off. ‘It’s why I’m here, isn’t it?’
Amanda Dias was at the cash register when the cop entered The Lentil Rebel.
She froze on seeing him, before summoning the presence of mind to blink and close the drawer.
‘Don’t panic,’ she muttered under her breath, on sensing her heartbeat quicken. ‘Be cool.’
It was approaching lunchtime, which was a busy time for Amanda and the former lap dancer she had just hired to waitress at weekends. The girl was busy dealing with a customer in a suit who had just taken a seat in the corner by the window. She hadn’t noticed the lawman come through the door, but he had seen Amanda. The guy wore his uniform like a second skin, as if he’d been in the job for decades. On finding his gaze levelled on her, Amanda’s only option was to step out from behind the counter and greet him as brightly as possible.
‘Ma’am,’ he said, and removed his hat to reveal a crop of salt-and-pepper hair. ‘Can I speak to you for a moment?’
‘Of course.’ Amanda cleared her throat. ‘I’d offer you a seat, but as you can see every table is taken.’
As the officer looked around, Amanda did her level best to control her breathing. For a moment it felt as if the café itself had started spinning. A cop had paid a visit and Titus was an emergency call away. She had him on speed dial, but even that was too late to help her now.
‘It’s an impressive operation you got here.’ The officer was still peering around as he said this, which made Amanda all the more nervous. ‘Must be making you guys some serious bucks, huh?’
By now, Amanda could feel her ribcage strain to contain her hammering heart.
‘We felt confident about the demand,’ she said, as coolly as possible. ‘Vegans are no longer a minority. People are beginning to wake up to what they’re eating.’
The cop nodded, meeting her eyes once more.
‘Can’t say I could live without a good T-bone,’ he told her, ‘but I admire what you’ve done for the community. It’s good to see young people like you make a commitment.’
Sensing that her worst fears weren’t about to happen for real, Amanda felt an urge to breathe out long and hard. With the cop still scrutinising her, however, she thanked him for the support.
‘Can I get you anything? A coffee?’
‘Is it drinkable?’ The cop held up his hands, grinning now. ‘I’m kidding. The guys at the precinct were joking about it recently. Said you served up liquid cardboard. I volunteered to come in and take a sample back. If it’s good, you can count on our custom.’
Maintaining her smile, Amanda Dias wondered whether it was possible to pass some cardboard and hot water through the blender in the kitchen. Anything to prevent The Lentil Rebel from becoming a police magnet.
‘Our coffee tastes great,’ she told him all the same, and held her chin up proudly. ‘Even better when you know it’s ethically sourced.’
As she offered to fix the cop a cup on the house, Amanda noticed the new waitress making her way towards them. She seemed a little harried, which was unsurprising for someone on their first lunchtime shift. Then Amanda caught her eye. In a blink, she knew the girl had something to say.
‘The man in the corner would like a moment of your time,’ she whispered, and seemed relieved when Amanda asked her to fix the officer his drink to go.
‘Will you excuse me?’ she asked.
‘The customer is king,’ the cop said. ‘Especially when they’re paying.’
Amanda shared his smile but felt only relief to be moving on. Whatever the guy in the corner wanted, it couldn’t test her any more than this.
30
Joaquín Mendez was a haunted young man. Ever since the Savages came into his life, he had found it impossible to escape from them.
Recently, during a jogging session with Titus through the pine trail, it had actually felt as if the man was pursuing him. Joaquín had kept glancing over his shoulder and there he was; struggling to keep up but with his eyes narrowed in a way that made the trainer involuntarily pick up his pace. It had all been in his imagination, of course. He knew that. Nevertheless, Joaquín couldn’t help but feel deeply intimidated by the guy. It was inevitable, he supposed, having fallen for his wife.
Angelica may have spelled out her commitment to her family, and yet still he couldn’t move on. In fact, almost every time Joaquín attempted to clear his head with a training run, he would catch sight of her. He had seen her so many times over recent weeks that it felt as if Jupiter must be full of her clones. From a distance, Angelica had appeared emerging from the superstore, exiting the hair salon and visiting her father-in-law at the retirement home. It was uncanny, Joaquín reflected, as he pounded barefoot across the lighthouse park. He couldn’t fail to notice her, because she practically lit up through his eyes. Just then, for example, as he followed the path around the tennis courts, he pulled up on seeing her pass through the main gates. Her youngest daughter was with her. She sported a pair of those toy fairy wings and was riding around her mother in wide circles on a pink bicycle. Angelica, dressed in a lilac summer dress and oversized shades, practically floated into the park. Panting lightly, Joaquín stared at this siren in his life and felt a knot pull tight in his digestive tract.
‘Why?’ he asked himself, his voice cracked in anguish. ‘Why me?’
Watching Angelica, who was too far away to notice him, Joaquín crossed to a nearby bench and sat down. He shook his head, barely able to believe how this could happen. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. Deep down, the young trainer knew he couldn’t exactly put such frequent encounters down to destiny. Even if he left his apartment with the best of intentions, somehow he would find himself running through locations across town where he knew she was likely to be. Only recently, Joaquín had forced himself to stop heading for the loop road around the inlet community in case a neighbour called 911. He’d done it so many times he was on nodding terms with a pool maintenance guy working at a nearby address.
As he pondered his actions, Angelica appeared to drift along the path towards the little museum they had there. Her daughter followed behind, her wings wobbling as she trundled along. It tormented him to see the woman, it really did, and yet Joaquín continued to seek her out. In a way, she had become the sustenance he needed, because since coming face to face with her at the vegan café, his appetite for food had completely dwindled. Every time he sat down to eat, he found himself picking at his pasta and even pushing away the bowl. It wasn’t good for someone who burned through the calories, and it had begun to show in his face.
If this was love, Joaquín had reflected that morning in front of the bathroom mirror, it was consuming him.
The last time his mother had reached him by webcam, all she could talk about was how haunted he looked. Joaquín had insisted it was down to the poor connection, unwilling to admit that he had fallen for a married woman. Back home, she’d never taken to any girl who’d shown an interest in him. There was no way she would welcome this relationship, even if it only existed in his dreams right now. It was just something he would have to tackle on his own, despite having no previous experience of managing feelings this intense. Joaquín found himself grasping the crucifix around his neck as he watched Angelica inspect the park’s flowerbeds. Coveting another man’s wife was one of the Good Book’s alarm-bell Commandments. Having to face that man on a regular basis and help him get into shape just made things so much worse. Joaquín was committing a sin here, and as he couldn’t stop himself then he deserved to be punished. Looking up at the sky, feeling utterly torn, the young Argentinian wondered out loud what his maker might have in store for him.
Just make it soon,’ he muttered. ‘She’s in my bones.’
Ivan Savage sat alongside his father in the pickup and wondered if they were here to eat. Titus Savage had just pulled up in the parking lot outside the burger bar. After reversing carefully into the vacant bay, he’d killed the engine and then just sat there. Ivan glanced across at him. Clutching the ignition key, which he turned in his hands like a rosary, his father was focused on the pastel-painted building in front of them.
‘Dad,’ said Ivan, a little hesitantly. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Hungry?’ Titus appeared to stir from some inner contemplation. ‘Sure I’m hungry. Aren’t we all?’
Ivan knew what his father meant by this, but for once he wasn’t talking about that deep-seated longing to fill his belly with a feast. It had been a while since lunch. That was all. A cheeseburger and a shake would bridge the gap, which is what Ivan had assumed they had pulled in to purchase.
‘This joint is a real low-budget number,’ he pointed out all the same. ‘People come here because the burgers are dirt cheap. That’s if you can call them burgers at all. We’d be better off at the chicken wing joint two blocks up. At least with a wing you know what meat is on the bone.’
Titus responded by sitting up in his seat, his focus fixed on the main doors to the restaurant.
‘How about that one?’ he asked.
Ivan followed his line of sight to see a man waddle out in a pair of wraparound shades and flips-flops. With every step, his shirt buttons over his belly strained at the seams. He was munching on a takeout as he headed for his car, having simply scrunched open the wrapper to get to it.
‘Really?’ The boy faced his father side-on. ‘Do you want fries with that as well?’
‘Or her?’
When Ivan turned to see another overweight customer squeeze out of the restaurant, he realised what was going on here.
‘Dad, this isn’t hunting. It’s convenience food.’
Titus shrugged.
‘I promised your mother.’
Ivan looked back at the man, who by now was struggling into his car with the burger clenched between his teeth.
‘But this stuff is supersized!’ the boy complained. ‘Even you’ve admitted that the cholesterol and fat content in the meat we’ve been eating lately can’t be good for us. Imagine the junk these guys contain! You’re looking at a heart attack waiting to happen here. Besides, after all the effort you’ve put into working out lately, a blowout like this would only put you right back at square one.’
As the silence between them thickened and stewed, a kid hauled himself out from the restaurant to catch up with the woman. Through Ivan’s eyes, any exercise was better than nothing for a junior carrying more pounds than most. It still didn’t whet his appetite, though.
‘I won’t take out a tenant,’ Titus told him abruptly. ‘Unless they’re trouble, it just wouldn’t be right.’
‘Whereas the obese are fair game when all else fails? Especially the impoverished with nothing to lose, right?’
When his father sighed to himself, Ivan knew that he’d called him out.
‘I just didn’t want to make it difficult.’ Titus tipped his head back against the seat rest and then turned to face his son directly. ‘With nothing on offer at the condo, this seemed like a good place for you to start.’
‘Me?’ Ivan touched his chest with one hand. For a second, he considered confessing to the sophisticated strategy he’d put in place to punish his school tormentors. Then he figured there was
a chance his dad would want to know details, and he couldn’t risk the interference when everything was going to plan. ‘It’s cool that you’re ready to let me do the honours,’ the boy said instead, ‘but I can do better than this. I’m not a kid any more. I’m fifteen years old. Even Katya could round up one of these human doughnuts.’
Titus tried hard not to smile.
‘I feel bad for bringing you here now,’ he said, and then gestured towards his suggested targets. ‘At least these guys can live to eat another day.’
Ivan looked hard into his father’s eyes. He shared the same intensity of focus and Arctic-blue colouring, and yet what he had to say would mark them out to be very different in outlook at that moment.
‘When I was little, Dad, you didn’t spare a thought for someone’s feelings in selecting them for a feast. Something’s changed with you. It’s as if you’ve gone soft, and not just in the belly. Ever since you got sweet-talked into opening that vegan café … it’s awakened something weird in you. What do they call it?’
‘A conscience?’ Titus turned to face the restaurant doors again. ‘Maybe it comes to us all eventually.’
Ivan didn’t answer. His father began to fiddle with his keys again.
‘So, what are we going to tell Mum?’ Ivan asked quietly.
Finally, and somewhat decisively, Titus slotted the key back into the ignition.
‘We’re going to tell her to prepare for one of the finest feasts ever to grace the table,’ he said, and brought the engine to life with a roar. ‘The meat is going to be truly special. I promise you, it’ll be worth the wait.’
31
‘Excuse me?’ Amanda Dias stood before the customer who had summoned her to the corner table. The man held a menu in his hands. He was reading it so closely that all she could see of him was a sweep of hair, pushed back over the crown of his head and trimmed neatly at the sides. The primitive black tattoos on his knuckles also caught her attention, which looked scratched in by a pin. ‘Could you repeat that order, please?’
‘I said,’ the man replied, slowly and deliberately in a voice that bordered on a growl, ‘do you cater for real meat eaters?’ He lowered his menu on delivering the question and flashed a smile at her.