by R.A. Hobbs
“Who found me?” she asked, “I know it wasn’t you,” she let out on the cord again.
“Not going to te—,” he began to say.
“Yes, you are going to tell, because I’m going to let you live,” she countered in an almost genial tone. She gave him another breath.
“Live? Why would I tell you if you’re going to le—,”
“Because I’m going to let you live after I castrate you. That’s why.” She held the gun at his crotch, shoving it against him for effect. He flinched.
Satisfied, she pulled him inside of her apartment.
“Now, let’s have a talk, shall we?”
Eight
“You want this? Hmm?” Tetsuo smiled as he dangled a flake of tuna from the tuna sashimi and cucumber he was having for breakfast.
O.C. pranced around, rubbing furiously against his legs.
“Sit.”
O.C. meowed, pausing as he rubbed against him, tilting his head.
“Sit,” Tetsuo repeated, dangling the fish. The cat sat and stared at him, squeezing its eyes at him, waiting patiently.
“Good, O.C., good.” He tossed the fish on the ground, the cat happily lapping it up and licking the floor for a few minutes afterward.
The drapes in his apartment were flung open to let in the morning sunlight, the windows cracked to let in a crisp breeze. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time.
Kenta had told him it was only a matter of weeks before he’d be working within the Circle again.
As happy as he was about the news, he still couldn’t help feeling a sense of doubt. There was the shady business the clan was involved in these days. He had heard whispers of rumors about drug trafficking, but every time he brought it up with Kenta he would deny such a thing and assure him it was only weapons.
The question still hung in the air for Tetsuo. If the clan was involved in more than just weapons smuggling, how badly would it bother him?
Would he leave?
Could he leave?
Tetsuo pushed it out of his mind and grabbed his jacket. Chuck from the bar had invited him to a barbeque at his house, and in spite of himself, he had been looking forward to it all week. He wasn’t quite ready to call Chuck his friend or to trust him with revealing who he really was, but he liked him. Even after such a tumultuous introduction, which admittedly was Tetsuo fault, there was familiarity between among them. Between the two, there was a mutual respect—even admiration—and despite their obvious differences, there was a connection, like a long-forgotten relative, or friend of the family. He tucked a small cooler under his arm, bringing his own contribution of salmon skewers to the barbecue and called O.C. to follow him out the door.
“O.C., Let’s go.”
O.C. sat in the doorway and licked his paw.
“Come on. We had a nice visit, but it’s time to go now.”
The cat lifted his nose to the air and paused for a second, before laboriously turning completely around to lick his rear end.
Tetsuo had enough, he reached down, picked up the cat, and tossed him gently out the door. O.C. flicked his tail angrily as he walked down the apartment walkway.
“Oh, don’t be mad, O.C., I’ll bring you leftovers, I promise. Lots of chicken and ribs to make you fat.”
The cat turned around and leapt up to the banister of the walkway, balancing and walking toward him on the thin ledge with a grace Tetsuo had practiced a lifetime to master. Tetsuo reached out his hand and the cat rubbed his head affectionately against his hand, staying around for scratches under the chin and behind the ears.
Then Tetsuo left, having to catch two busses to catch to get to Chuck’s house by noon for the barbecue.
***
“Call them,” Vasha demanded, shoving the cell phone at Peotr. He grabbed awkwardly at the phone with hands bound together, struggling to dial the numbers.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked.
“Tell them you completed the job.”
Peotr swallowed and looked suspiciously at her. “That’s it?”
Vasha nodded.
“But they—,”
“—won’t believe you? That’s the point. They’ll send someone to confirm the kill and then you’ll have company.”
Peotr deflated a little bit, but seemed resigned to the fact he would probably never be the operative he’d dreamed of being. He asked, “What story do you want me to tell?”
“Just tell them you shot me, just like you were planning to do last night. I’ll even let you embellish a little.”
Peotr’s attention was drawn to the phone, hearing someone pick up on the other line. “It’s Peotr. The job is done.”
Peotr listened intently, his eyes darting back and forth, and she could practically see his heart fluttering underneath his shirt. By the time he started licking his lips nervously, she’d had enough. Poor Peotr needed a little leadership when he was under pressure. She knelt down beside him and rested the gun against his genitals.
“Just in case you forget what’s at stake,” she whispered in his other ear.
Then he began to weave a fine tale worthy of an Oscar.
When Peotr finally hung up, she gave him a glass of warm water.
“Time to sleep.”
“No, please. I hate how I feel when I wake up.”
“I don’t have a T.V,” she explained. “Do you really want to be tied up here all day with nothing to do?”
Peotr seemed to think about that for a moment, and then shook his head.
“Good. I promise to wake you when it gets exciting,” she smiled, and then watched him drink down the pill she gave him.
In the meantime, she needed to think of her next move. She wouldn’t be able to stay here much longer and would have to act fast.
Outside her window she spotted Tetsuo’s cat, walking along the banister, daintily hopping over the potted plants she had started growing. She went to grab her watering can.
The cat wasn’t shy, which made it easier. He came right up to her, rubbing against her leg. She set down the watering can, bending down to him. He brushed against her, wanting her to pet him.
She stared at the cat with a cold detachment.
Then she picked him up and brought him inside.
***
Chuck’s backyard was packed with a consortium of leather-clad, bearded, pierced and tattooed men and women of all ages. Some grey, some balding, some just out of high school.
Tetsuo, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, and jeans, was clean shaven and very, very Japanese. He should have stood out like a sore thumb—and he did—but the awkwardness of such a large group of people so different from him dissolved within the first few minutes of being there.
“Ted! You made it, man,” Chuck said, holding out his arms for an embrace, but then stopping himself as he leaned in and held out his hand. “Forgot. You don’t like to be touched.”
Tetsuo grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you very much for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome.” Chuck turned to a tall, raven-haired woman standing next to him. She was a mature, classic beauty with streaks of silver hair highlighting her thick shoulder length hair. Her eyes glowed warm and inviting. “Ted, this is my wife, Krystin. Basically the head of the operation. What you see at the bar on Wednesdays is just the women kicking us out so they can work on CBA business.”
“This is your wife?” Tetsuo blurted, shaking her hand.
“Hard to believe, I know,” Chuck scratched his head in mock puzzlement.
Krystin took Tetsuo’s hand in a firm shake of her own and gave him a wry smile. “He may not look like much, but he loves me and treats me like a goddess. More than most women are willing to settle down for nowadays. Ted, is it?”
“Yes, nice to meet you. And pardon me, but what is CBA business?”
“Ah, Chuck hasn’t filled you in? It stands for Christian Bikers Association.”
Tetsuo raised his eyebro
ws, surprised yet also now understanding why they weren’t the typical group of bikers he was used to. “Oh, I see. Chuck only said it was a recovery group.”
“Recovery group?” Krystin raised an eyebrow at her husband. “Well, I suppose that’s part of it, too. Chuck tells me you two met at Flint’s. How’d you end up in there? Doesn’t seem like your kind of place, if you know what I mean.”
“Krystin, no need to grill the man on his first day,” Chuck whispered to his wife.
Tetsuo held up his hand, smiling. “It’s okay, Chuck. If you must know, I was very angry that day and wanted to start a fight.” A few people, who had been lingering around them as they talked, turned to listen. Tetsuo continued, “I thought, inside this bar there would be many people to fight. They would be big people, and they would be drunk. What I didn’t expect, is they’d be so nice.”
Those who were listening laughed and nodded their heads, as if they had experienced the same thing themselves at one time.
Krystin’s eyes sparkled with laughter, her mouth twitching, but not quite smiling. “I see why you like this young man, Chuck,” she murmured. “Well, thank you for answering my question. I’m sorry if I came on a little strong. You’ll probably find among some of us here stories quite similar to yours.”
Tetsuo bowed his head slightly, “Thank you.”
She pointed to the small cooler he held in his arm, “Did you bring something to grill?”
“Salmon.”
“Ohh, perfect! Get it on the barbecue!” She then pointed to a line of several barbeque grills along the fence of the backyard. “Go find an empty one and tell me when it’s done!” she grinned.
Tetsuo nodded and made his way toward the line of grills and picked an empty one right next to T.B., the large man he had met at his first night at the bar. He had forgotten how huge he was. The spatula he held in his hand looked like a child’s toy, and by the size of the burger he was trying to flip, he would need two of them.
“Hey, Ted,” T.B. said.
Tetsuo, turned and held out his hand, “Hello, T.B.”
The giant took his hand, enveloping it in a hide of calloused leather much like a baseball mitt, and shook it much more delicately than Tetsuo was expecting.
Tetsuo, feeling relaxed and friendly decided to try some small talk, “So, I have been meaning to ask you, what does T.B. stand for?”
T.B. grinned, “It’s short for The Bifurcatur.”
“The Bifur—? I’m sorry, my English…”
“Bifurcate. It means, to divide, fork or branch off,” he explained.
“Oh, and how did you get this name?”
The Bifurcatur laughed, “A long time ago, me and my brother were at a street fair and it was crowded. And as I was walking, they said the crowd just kind of ‘bifurcated’ as I made my way down the boulevard. My brother was showing off his ‘word-of-the-day’ thing on his calendar. It stuck, I guess.”
Tetsuo nodded, “Ah, makes sense,” he smiled. He grabbed some nearby tongs and used a napkin to dip it in oil to coat the grill.
Tossing a few fillets on the grill, he drizzled some oil on top, adding some salt and pepper he had brought in little baggies.
“You know, my brother John, he’s still involved in the underground. I got out years ago, though. I heard you might be looking to get out yourself.”
Tetsuo shook his head, “I don’t know what you mean.” He scolded himself. He shouldn’t be with these people. It was a mistake. How many other people knew? If he wasn’t already compromised after the incident with the Rogov Clan rogue, he would be now. He smiled apologetically at The Bifurcatur and swallowed down the panic.
“Don’t worry, only me and Chuck know or ever talk about it. Chuck, you know, he’s been around a while and figured you’d been hanging around ‘cause you were looking to get out. It’s not like we know who you are affiliated with or anything. And it doesn’t really matter to us anyway.”
“I’m sorry, maybe you have me confused with someone else?”
The Bifercater chuckled lightly to himself, “Maybe I do,” he replied. He began to scrape at the edges of his burger with the spatula. “Man, I don’t know how I’m going to flip this thing. It’s the size of a pizza.”
“You made it very big,” Tetsuo said. “Maybe you need this spatula, too?” Tetsuo gave him his spatula.
“Yeah, thanks.” With great effort and a delicate balancing act of the two spatulas and one-pound patty of ground beef, The Bifurcatur managed to flip his enormous burger.
“Thanks for the spatula.”
“No problem.”
“And sorry to get you mixed up with someone else. I just wanted to let him know he’s safe here. Just lookin’ around this party and I can count on all ten of my fingers, guys and gals who made it out of some notorious associations. No one would dare say anything that would jeopardize his safety ‘cause we’ve all been there ourselves at one point.”
Tetsuo listened quietly, checking his salmon, pressing lightly against the sides with his spatula and testing the firmness of the fillets.
“Anyway,” The Bifurcatur sighed, “it sounds like the whole ‘underground’ is in shake-up mode. Some hot-shot from the old clans is trying to absorb some enemy territory known for drug trafficking.”
“Is this unusual? Don’t they all do this drug trafficking?”
“Actually, no. This particular group never liked to get its hands dirty with meth. These guys are secretive—real hard to break into. Rumor had it they were behind some headlines in the evening news. Only rumors though. So, yeah, for this group, dipping their paws in the drug trade is a bit unusual.”
‘What kind of headlines?”
“Oh, well, a month or two ago, a former governor supposedly died from a self inflicted gunshot wound. Some people my brother associates with think it was the work of the Clans,” The Bifurcatur shrugged.
Tetsuo scoffed as he tested his fillets again before flipping them over.
“Are they done yet?” Krystin asked in a musical voice, looking over Tetsuo’s shoulder, plate in hand, on which sat some lemon slices and a few pats of butter.
Happy for a change of subject, he turned to her smiling. “Almost.”
“Good, it’s nice to have a change. All Chuck ever throws on the grill is either hoofed or feathered,” she replied, happening to glance over at what The Bifurcater was attempting to cook. “My God,” she blurted. “That burger is the size of a pizza, Teddy Bear!”
Tetsuo cocked an eyebrow at The Bifurcatur. “Teddy Bear?”
“Yes, that’s what we call him—because despite his size he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear!” She reached up with a hand with brightly painted fingernails and pinched The Bifurcatur’s bearded cheek.
“I thought you were The Bifurcatur?” Tetsuo said.
“Oh, Lord. Not ‘The Bifurcatur’, again. Teddy’s always trying to get the new guys to call him ‘The Bifurcatur’, whatever that means, hoping it’ll catch on somehow. Nope, Pete will always be Teddy Bear around here.”
Teddy Bear frowned at his gargantuan burger, “It means to divide, fork or branch off. My brother called me it once…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But better luck on the next newbie, T.B.,” Krystin patted his backside and presented her plate to Tetsuo. “Now, serve me up, Ted, so me and you can go someplace and eat this wonderful salmon you brought.”
“Actually, I was hoping to watch Teddy Bear eat his hamburger. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Krystin laughed, “I have, and once was enough for me.” He placed the salmon fillets on their plates; she grabbed his arm and led him away, chatting happily all the while.
Nine
The bus ride home for Tetsuo was troubling. He had enjoyed himself at the barbecue, but he didn’t want to think about its cost. For the first time in his life he felt at home with another group of people, as unlikely as they were. They had accepted him for who he was and had even ext
ended the hand of friendship after he had threatened one of them with a broken beer bottle.
Who does that?
For years, he was told the world had no place for him. The same world which discarded him as a child and made him an orphan, would never accept him now, especially after the things he had done for the clan. Since he could remember, there were only three choices he could make for his life: the clan, prison, or the grave.
And now there was another option.
And the other option disturbed him.
Blind obedience and devotion to the clan was easier than this. And he was disgusted by his years of intellectual laziness to have never asked himself the harder questions.
The thought of going back to work the next morning twisted at his stomach. How could he go back when he knew what business they were involved in? It went against everything they prided themselves on as a clan. Why hadn’t anyone been questioning it? And more importantly, why hadn’t he?
His bus stop was approaching and the thought of just staying on the bus and never getting off tempted him. He could survive without the clan, it would be hard, yes, and he probably couldn’t stay in one place for very long, but it wasn’t much different than his life now.
The bus jerked from running over a pothole and the paper back of barbeque scraps he had brought home for the orange cat crinkled in his arms.
He pulled the bus cable and got off at his stop.
***
In spite of himself, the idea of feeding the cat some tasty scraps made him cheer up a little. He hurried home from the bus stop, clutching the greasy bag of spare rib bones and pieces of chicken gristle and took the stairs to his second floor apartment two by two. About halfway up the steps he felt it. A wave of prickly nerves washed over the top of his skull and down his spine.
She was here again, but something else was wrong. It wasn’t until he topped the staircase he knew what it was.
In front of his door to the apartment lay the orange and white cat. And it was very still. Too still. By now the cat would be prancing down the banister toward him, sniffing at the bag he held in his hands. But it just lay there, a slight breeze ruffling some of its fur.
“No,” he whispered.
A structure which had been inside Tetsuo, built up by hours and hours of training and discipline by heartless masters and unsympathetic teachers, snapped inside him, no longer able to hold the weight of what he was experiencing.
