His Light in the Dark

by L. A. Fiore

  For the first time in years, I was nearly overcome with emotion.

  She hesitated, as if waiting for a reply that I was unable to give, before walking away from me; she called from over her shoulder, “I hope you take Dad up on the offer. I’ve missed you Cole.”

  And fuck it all, but I had missed her too.

  They say every man had his limit and I had reached mine. Donny was a sadistic bastard, but I reasoned to myself that all those I had hurt in his name had it coming; they’d made their beds. Beating the shit out of someone was one thing, being party to murder, that was something else. Never, in the nearly two years that I had been working for him, did my rage take me to the point of killing. The only person I’d ever wanted to see dead was my old man. Donny was another matter. As a trusted member of his crew, he was growing more and more comfortable around me, enough that he’d started hinting at side jobs he did. Work for people in positions in the spotlight where unsavory situations were not favorable. It didn’t take a degree in criminology to know he meant he was the problem solver, there was a problem and he handled it. So far nothing that he had told me could be used against him, he was too smart for that. Until I had a body to bury, he wasn’t giving up anything, but I had no desire to add to my body count. One was plenty.

  Getting out of my current job wasn’t going to be easy because it was a lot like how I imagined the mob being, once you’re in, you’re in. Luck was on my side though because Donny had taken on a new client. He didn’t share the details, but he needed to streamline his activities or he stood the risk of losing the client and the mounds of cash that came with him. It was now or never for me.

  My exit interview was going to be brutal. I wasn’t leaving without a sound beat down. I’d taken beatings before, I could take one more. Pulling open the door to the club, I wiped my expression because around people like him you never gave anything away.

  Donny had been waiting for me; his eyes speared me as soon as I entered his office. “So I hear you’re looking to leave us.”

  “Yeah, want to try something different.”

  “Different? You honestly think anyone will hire you?” He cocked his head; he did that when he took someone’s measure. “You’ve already got a job lined up.”

  “Nothing concrete.”

  “Not a competitor I hope.”

  “No.”

  He stood and took his time walking around his desk. His movement deliberate and his intent to throw me off by looking magnanimous, but there was no denying the malice in his stare. “I’ve been thinking about downsizing, diversifying into other enterprises, so I’ll accept your resignation.”

  Lightning, that’s how fast the man could move. His long, bony fingers curled around my collar, his face only inches from mine. “You fuck me and I’ll hunt you down, hunt down those two you like so much too. You feel me?”

  He could try, but he’d never get near Mace and Mia. “Yeah.”

  He studied me, seemed to see the truth in my reply, before he removed his hand. “Very well.” He turned to the two others in the room with us. “Give Cole a going away present.”

  The first punch landed before he’d even closed the door.

  It had been two days since the smack down and still I tasted my own blood. I ached everywhere, and moving around I did a fair impression of a little old lady, but it was done and now I needed to do what Mia had suggested. Make the choices that put me back on the path I wanted to be on.

  At the sound of the door, it was time to do just that. Pulling the door open on Mace, I wouldn’t say he looked angry, but there definitely wasn’t the same warmth I had grown to expect when he looked at me. My own fault.

  Stepping aside, I held the door open wider. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t move into my place and I couldn’t blame him, I lived in a shithole. Clean, since I’d lived in squalor and never would again, but you couldn’t shine up shit to be anything more than shit. Moving to the kitchen, Mace followed. I knew he noticed the stiffness in my movements, the man missed nothing, but he waited until we were settled at the table before he asked me about it.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Decided to quit my last job, this was the exit interview.”

  “Why’d you quit?”

  “Didn’t agree with my boss’s methods.”

  “What did you want to discuss with me?”

  It was harder than I thought, sitting across from Mace like we were strangers. I didn’t blame him, but that didn’t make it any easier. “Is that job still on the table?”

  Surprise swept his face. “You serious?”

  “Yeah. Had a conversation with Mia last year—”

  “You saw Mia?”

  “Yeah. She told me accepting the way my life had turned out was crap and that I had to make the choices to get back to where I wanted to be. I’m making that choice.”

  “And why should I hire you?”

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t, but I don’t want to be my dad. I want to be, well, like you.”

  And then Mace smiled and the tension that had stiffened my shoulders eased. “You’re more like me than you give yourself credit for.” He pulled a hand through his hair before he leaned his elbows on the table. “You’re out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No chance of them pulling you back in?”

  “No.”

  “Then, yeah, the job is yours.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yeah, just like that. You may have lost your way for a while, but I never gave up on you. Neither has Mia.”

  Mia. “There’s a condition though. I need to keep some distance from Mia.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not the kid I was and I don’t want the ugliness of my past to touch her.” What I didn’t say was if she did offer to me what she had as kids, I’d take it, horde it, crave it and that would be so fucking selfish.

  “She won’t like it.”

  “She’s fifteen. In a few years she’ll be off to college and then the rest of her life and I’ll just be some kid from the neighborhood.”

  “I think you underestimate what you mean to her.”

  “And I think you overestimate how she is with me having anything at all to do with me. It’s just her way.”

  “All right, if that’s what you want.”

  “The man I worked for, Donny, he’s bad news and I have a feeling that he’s going to be branching out, making more of a name for himself in the neighborhood.”

  “In what way?”

  “I’m not sure, it’s just a gut feeling. He knows about you and Mia, threatened to come at you if I ever crossed him. Have no plans of playing in the sewer again, but you need to know.”

  I’d only ever seen Mace looking as deadly as he did in that minute once before. “He won’t get anywhere near us.”

  Vincent’s was a South Philly legend. Located on 9th Street between Catharine and Fitzwater, it was the neighborhood hangout. And even in a neighborhood where change was becoming more and more common, Vincent’s popularity didn’t change. For me, I loved Vincent’s because the food was so good. I knew Dad loved it as much as I did because we celebrated every birthday and major occasion there. It was my Aunt Dee’s birthday; she, Dylan, Dad and me were settled at our favorite table. There was a game playing on the television screens that were mounted to the walls near the large bar, a place that was usually as crowded as the restaurant. As much as I enjoyed being here, I was kind of sad too because Cole had once been a part of these outings and after our chat last year, I had hoped he would be again. But it had been over eight months since we talked and nothing.

  “Chicken parmigiana for you Mia?”

  My dad didn’t really need to ask since it was what I got every time we came here. “Yep. And a Shirley Temple with extra cherries.”

  “Extra cherries?” Dad grinned. “It’s not like the drink isn’t sweet enough.”

  “It can never be too sweet.”

  �
�Wait until you get older and then we’ll have this conversation again.”

  “I am older. I’m fifteen.”

  Some emotion moved across my dad’s face, but I wasn’t sure of his thoughts. I almost asked him because he looked both happy and a touch sad, but then our waitress walked over. It was Vicki Antonio. She waited on us a lot, I think because she liked my dad. Her blond hair had the darkest roots and though I got the whole ombré-look, her look was just a lack of trying. Her eyes were a pale green and she had a nice smile, but she laughed too much. It wasn’t even a nice laugh, it sounded like a cat dying. I had never heard a cat die but I was sure if I ever did, it would sound like her laugh. She stopped just to the left of my dad, her hip leaning into his chair. He didn’t seem to notice, had yet to take his eyes from the menu.

  “Hi Mace.” I didn’t know people could purr, but that really sounded like a purr.

  He glanced at her and smiled absently, but even I could tell he wasn’t interested. “Hey Vicki. Mia will have the chicken parmigiana and a Shirley Temple…” Dad’s eyes lifted and met mine as a grin pulled at his mouth “with extra cherries.” Sure I was a bit old for Shirley Temples, but I just loved them. Dad continued, “Dee and I will have the steak, medium rare, loaded potato and steamed broccoli.”

  “And I’ll have the lasagna, side of meatballs and extra sauce.” Dylan got that every time too.

  Vicki waited a little longer, her gaze on my dad, but he was oblivious to her interest since his focus was on one of the big screens. I kind of felt bad for Vicki. Her shoulders slumped in defeat when she finally walked away.

  In the next beat, Dad’s attention shifted to me. “So, I’ve some news. Cole’s decided to take the job at the garage.”

  My excitement for chicken parmigiana and cannoli cake dimmed next to the news of Cole. The heavy weight of disappointment, which I’d been carrying since last year, instantly lifted as giddiness bubbled up in me. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. He contacted me the other day. He quit his former job and wanted to know if the offer still stood.”

  “Oh my God, I can’t wait to see him.”

  Dad’s expression changed slightly. “Fair warning, Mia, he isn’t the same kid you knew. He’s working for me, but don’t expect things between you to be as they were.”

  “Well maybe not in the beginning, but he’ll come around. I know he will.”

  “Mia, promise me you won’t get your hopes up. I mean it. Cole’s seen and done things that hopefully you’ll never be exposed to, he’s mindful of that too.”

  I couldn’t lie, some of my elation faded with that comment. “Are you saying he doesn’t want to see me?”

  “I’m saying that Cole is going to be around but I am not going to watch as your heart breaks every time he doesn’t respond in the way you think he should. He’s different, we’re all different, and him taking this step, it’s the right step and I want to help him find his way, but I won’t risk your happiness or well being to do so.”

  “Okay.” But Dad’s warning didn’t discourage me. I knew Cole better than anyone. He’d come around, eventually.

  It was Cole’s second day of work, a Sunday, and instead of retreating into Dad’s office to do my homework, I sat in the bay where Dad and Cole worked. On his first day, Dad had given Cole his own starter set of tools. I didn’t think anything of it, they were tools, but I caught the expression—one I was fairly sure he thought he had hid—like he’d just been given the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. It broke my heart. I didn’t understand why people had kids if they were so intolerant of them. I was sorry it had been by Cole’s hands, but I wasn’t sorry Carl Campbell was dead.

  Cole took instruction from Dad but unlike when we were younger, there wasn’t the same fascination in his expression. It was more a necessity that he learn rather than a desire to learn. He no longer seemed to be living life, just getting through it.

  A few hours later, Dad told Cole he’d done enough for one day and as Dad went to work on a car, Cole packed up his area. Nervousness had my hands twisting, remembering Dad’s warning, as I moved from my spot to join Cole.

  My voice was soft and hesitant when I asked, “How was it?”

  His head turned in my direction and though he smiled, there was little warmth to it. “Good.”

  “Dad gave you a lot to think about, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to go.” And just like that, he was gone without even a backwards glance.

  For months, Cole put in his time and though he was friendly, he didn’t go out of his way to chat with me. I suppose we had very little in common because though we were only five years apart in age, at our ages, five years might as well be twenty. It hurt though, because every once and a while I caught a glimpse of the kid I had known and I missed that kid a lot. It was clear to me that Cole would be in my life but he wouldn’t really be a part of my life. A little part of him was better than none of him, but there was a part of me that found his meager offerings unacceptable. Dad had been right, it was hard watching Cole knowing that at one time he would have joined in on the joking and laughing. I hadn’t heard his laugh in far too long. I refused to accept that my Cole was lost and so my goal was to force Cole to remember. Clearly I was a glutton for punishment because in forcing him to remember, I would be too and if he didn’t take to the memories like I hoped, it could prove rather depressing.

  Once a week, I left a little reminder for Cole on what he was giving up by keeping his distance. My first reminder, I left him a peanut butter, fluff, banana and chocolate syrup sandwich at his worktable. I knew he hated fluff, but for so long he had eaten it because he hadn’t wanted to hurt my feelings. I stood just inside Dad’s office and watched as Cole arrived. He spotted the sandwich almost immediately, his head turning, searching for me. Our eyes met and held and though I hadn’t a clue of his thoughts, once he settled, he ate that sandwich.

  A week later, Cole arrived at the garage to be greeted by the sight of my Ken doll hanging from one of the hoses suspended from the ceiling. On his shirt, I had pinned a note that said, “I can’t take the shopping anymore.” Cole’s eyes found mine and I swear there was a spark in them before he looked away, removed Ken and got to work.

  The kids were all raving about this new book called Twilight. I read it, loved it and when I was done, I left my copy for Cole with a note that said: You will love this. Dad returned the book to me that night but on the Post-it, in a handwriting I recognized as Cole’s: Oh, hell no. An actual response, my heart leapt.

  It was Saturday so I was at the garage. Cole was working and feeling hopeful after having gotten a response from him, I sat on a stool near the car he worked on. I held a conversation with him but since he didn’t answer me, I really was having one with myself.

  “Have you seen any new movies? I saw a preview for one the other day that was right up your dirt road. It’s called Aquamarine. It’s about a mermaid and I know you have a fondness for mermaids, picking the Little Mermaid II over all the other movies when we were younger. It’s her sparkly tail you dig, isn’t it?”

  Cole’s head lifted and I swear the slightest of grins curved his mouth on the one side.

  I was making progress with Cole, it was excruciatingly slow going, but Dad and I had both noticed a marked change in him. He still didn’t speak to me, like he was doing more and more of with Dad, but a few times I had caught him looking in my direction and if I wasn’t being too fanciful, there was tenderness in his expression. A sight that was breathtaking considering how well he hid his emotions.

  Every week, I came up with something new, something funny, and something that forced a reaction out of him. Most times his reaction was so slight, if you weren’t watching you’d miss it, but I watched him like Alan Grant watched the hatching of those raptor eggs in Jurassic Park so I saw everything.

  My latest prank was a pair of Chucks I had picked up from Goodwill that I bedazzled. I left the sparkly sneakers for Cole. The note: Since I know how much you real
ly liked mine when we were younger. He walked into the garage shortly after I left them and as soon as he saw them, he stopped walking and just stared. Watching him from Dad’s office I was completely unprepared for what he did next, what had my knees nearly buckling because it was so beautiful and unexpected. He laughed out loud; a sound I had been hoping to hear again. His uproarious howls pulled Dad and Dylan from their work as they looked over at Cole who held his stomach from laughing so hard. Dad’s eyes found me and for the first time, I realized that he had been as concerned and worried for Cole as me and for the first time since Cole returned to us, he looked as I felt: hopeful.

  Cole didn’t throw those shoes away. In fact, he set them up as a kind of trophy at his station, like how someone hangs fuzzy dice from their rear-view mirror.

  For months, I kept up my assault on Cole but no reaction since could compare to the shoe prank. I had hoped that prank was the turning around point, but more often than not he remained closed off and distant. Disheartened, yes, but I wasn’t giving up. Needing my strength to continue my efforts, I was having lunch at the picnic table behind the garage while Dad and Dylan did inventory. I was running out of material and sat racking my brain for other stunts that I could pull on Cole. I heard someone approach and assumed it was Dad. When Cole appeared, I almost choked on the bite of sandwich I had taken. He held his lunch as he stood right next to me, as if debating with himself over what his next move should be. And then he climbed onto the bench next to me. My heart stopped and I held my breath for fear that if I said something, he’d disappear. My gaze collided with his blue one and for a good long time we just sat staring at each other. And then he reached over me, taking half of my hoagie and giving me half of his sub.