Five Urban Stories

by Thomas Dalcolle

  But I can give you a head’s up. If you check, you’ll hear there’s rumors of a profit warning for the first quarter on their side. It will appear as nothing relevant, but, as a loyal business partner of many years, I suggest you to keep clear from them if you don’t want to have any trouble. At any rate, I’m authorized to commit my company to sell you their same class of services at a lower price, whatever it will be. Just let me know.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of you! It’s agreed, then.”

  The lift doors opened, and we shook hands.

  While descending to the ground floor, I thought that Delrosso had been a great partner for as long as it had lasted. But now, I couldn’t allow him to steal any small part of my global contract with my best client.

  I was ready to sell that part below the cost. The bulk of the other services I was providing there allowed me to keep a margin of gain, even in case I dashed those services for free.

  Delrosso was a nice guy, but my thought was that if a person didn’t know much about one business, it was better to avoid going all in, or they’d only end up hurting themselves.

  “I will leave you with a dry beak here, dear Delrosso,” I grumbled to myself.

  Back to the car, I called Rako. It was ten minutes past one, and his voice sounded still rough from the sleep when he answered. He had some difficulty in recognizing me, but eventually he recalled, and called me salesman, the nickname he had given to me that famous night.

  We agreed to meet around ten in the evening, at the entrance of the Betty Blue, his new workplace in our province town.

  That evening, at ten o’clock, I neared the place on foot, and I recognized Rako patrolling the entrance with a colleague, a guy as tall as him but even sturdier and more muscular.

  “Armin, I must talk with this friend for a minute,” Rako told him before walking away with me.

  We stopped a few meters away, just around the street corner, and I explained the deal.

  “I will pay you a hundred bucks after you’ve delivered the information,” I said. “It’s up to you how much extra cash you can get from them. You can take it all. I think they’re interested in this information, and ready to pay something. But if you screw things up, it’s your fault. You’ll have to tell them everything all the same and be satisfied with my hundred bucks.”

  “So, you’re ready to pay to let the girl’s exploiters have the info to find her? And you’re leaving me every possible gain?”

  “Yes, I have an open account to settle with her. But this is my business.”

  “Sure, salesman,” Rako replied with a grin. But as if it was nothing, he added, “If I were you, instead of prosecuting the girl who disappointed me, I’d break the nose to the one who took her from me.”

  Then, he recalled that there was money at stake, as he added, “But, you’re right. This isn’t any of my business. I’m here for the bucks, and I’ll do the job, but you must pay me a hundred now and a hundred when the job is done.”

  I expected it, and I was ready to pay. I showed him the money, and when he tried to take it, I withdrew it with a swift movement.

  “Don’t try to fool me. I’ll know if you don’t deliver the info.” I was lying, of course.

  He grinned. “No problem. Consider it done. Of course, if I still find the man at that address, I’ll let you know when I’m through.”

  Then, after snapping the bill from my fingers, Rako added, “And thank you for calling me!”

  I gave him the girl’s phone number and the other information I had. Then, I left him to his work and walked away.

  Rako never called me again.

  After four days, I checked Paloma’s number with my phone in secret mode, and a recorded voice informed me that I had dialed a non-existing number.

  With Rako’s number I obtained the same result.

  Something had happened, but what?

  One week later, after dinner, I walked to the entrance of the Betty Blue.

  Rako wasn’t there. There were two other guys, and one of them was Rako’s colleague of the last time, the one he had called Armin.

  “Hi, are you Armin?” I asked with a friendly smile.

  “Yes, how can I help?” the man replied with a suspicious gaze. Then he recognized me.

  “Ah, but you are the salesman. The one who went to talk with Rako last week.”

  “Yes, it’s me. Is Rako working somewhere else tonight?”

  “Rako moved to the north. He told he’s found a great job in a different security service. But he left a message for you, in case you went looking for him.”

  “Oh, really? And what’s the message?”

  The man smiled and told his colleague he had to talk to me for a minute.

  “Come, I have something to show you,” he added walking towards the street corner.

  I followed him, and as we turned around the corner, he grabbed the front of my jacket and shirt, lifting me from the ground like a twig. Before I could even talk, he slammed me against the building wall. I hit the back of the skull against the hard concrete, and I saw a million stars blowing and then flickering in front of my eyes.

  “Listen to me, man,” grunted the brute, still holding me against the wall, my feet hanging in the air, “Rako is part of my family. I care of him and I always take him seriously. You do the same, otherwise you could regret it. Now, Rako said you must forget about that woman, he didn’t tell me her name, and said not to call him again.”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I muttered in a rush, “but leave me now, I’ll forget everything, no problem…”

  The gorilla released his grip, and I landed hard on the ground. Then, as a gentle farewell gesture, he kicked me in the ribs. I sighed, trying to breath, and I prepared for the rest, but he was already turning away from me.

  “Ah, and Rako said to thank you for your hundred bucks.” He smirked at me before disappearing behind the corner.

  I got up with some difficulty, and I rushed away as fast as I could.

  The back of my head was swelling, and I felt as a stabbing in the ribs at every breath. However, after walking a while, at a safe enough distance from the Betty Blue, I recovered my senses, and I could articulate some reasoning. Just a few inches above the basic survival instinct.

  I imagined Rako had decided to give a look to the girl, before executing the job, and had called her.

  Paloma, with her natural slyness, had thought he deserved a date, and likely they had found some form of agreement. Perhaps they had even started a business together. All considered, Rako was a better match than me for Paloma.

  This idea gave me a surprising, deep moral relief, making me feel that I had come to terms with my silly desire of revenge against Paloma.

  Forgetting about her and the whole story was the best and only thing to do, as Rako had suggested through his convincing ambassador.

  “Yes,” I concluded, probing my occipital bone with caution, “also because, if you’re not well introduced into one business, you’re better to avoid playing hard, or you only risk hurting yourself.”

  This had shown itself to be a factual truth, whenever were the goodies at stake.

  3. Deuce or the Merciful Mantis

  I had nothing more to do in that lovely city.

  In the afternoon, I attended the irksome task of removing my remaining few things from the furnished apartment that I’d rented there.

  It was a comfortable, sunny apartment on the third floor of a brand new building in a modern area of the city. But I’d terminated the contract, and that was the last day to accomplish the unpleasant chore before the next tenant took my place.

  The whole thing of having to leave that city and that apartment which I had loved was making me feel depressed, and I had set a date with Fulvia in the evening, to forget about it and cheer me up.

  I rushed back to my hometown, where I’d retreated for now, and on the road, I called Fulvia to confirm I would come to pick her up in an hour.

  It was a bad surprise w
hen Fulvia told me that we had to cancel our date. She’d learned just a few minutes before that she had to go to the capital for an urgent matter.

  This really annoyed me. I felt in a gloomy mood and I needed some hugs, but I just said, “Okay, I’ll call you another time. Take care.”

  When she asked me to go and pick her up all the same, to take her to the train station, I accepted without further discussion. If things went wrong, there was no reason to completely spoil them, telling your girlfriend that you were sorry that she canceled your date because you felt so down and you needed her, and, at the same time, that you didn’t feel like doing her any favors at the moment.

  Fulvia lived in a new but quite secluded suburb of the city, and to reach the bus stop she had to trek down a narrow winding street surrounded by bushes, very dark and lonely in the evening.

  I knew that she feared walking alone in that place and tried to avoid it whenever she could.

  I was surprised when I saw Fulvia appearing together with her friend Sofia, a beautiful woman a few years older than her, but in perfect, glamorous shape, who was sharing the apartment with her. Fulvia climbed in the passenger seat, and Sofia got in the back.

  I gave Fulvia a kiss on the cheek and greeted Sofia, then I started the engine and we moved off into traffic. “So, are you going together to that urgent appointment?” I dared to ask.

  “No, Sofia has something else to do,” was Fulvia’s dry answer.

  “I will move to the capital for work next week, and I have to arrange some things over there,” Sofia added from the back.

  “Okay, good luck with your new job! Are you in a hurry? What time is the train leaving?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Fulvia, “we have plenty of time. The train leaves in half an hour.”

  I drove carefully and smoothly through the light traffic, and I stopped in front of the station five minutes later.

  Fulvia opened the door, and thanked me for my help, then got out. But at that point, Sofia, who was still in the back seat reaching frantically into her bag, almost shouted, “Hell! I left my wallet at home! You must take me back to get it, please!”

  And talking to Fulvia, “Meanwhile, you go buy the tickets. We will be back in time for the train, don't worry!”

  Fulvia seemed a bit concerned but then urged us to move fast. That evening of mishaps was beginning to get interesting.

  Sofia remained in the back seat, while we jerked into the traffic, hurrying back to their place.

  Driving fast, I asked her if she was leaving the apartment with Fulvia. She confirmed that Fulvia now had to look for someone else to replace her. She had just arranged to stay with a cousin of hers in the capital, near to her new work place.

  The following week, she would leave her job at a local hotel to begin working as a receptionist at the Sofitel Hotel of Villa Borghese.

  “Oh, congratulations! And you will have to do night shifts?”

  “Oh, no! Luckily I will be the manager of the morning shift.”

  So, she wasn’t going to take a test on her new job now. Who knows what were they hurrying for, that night in the capital?

  When I parked in front of their building, Sofia ran to the street door, and I remained inside the car, thoughtful.

  Oddly enough, I recalled my father, a few days before he died, when he gave me some advice. “Always remember that the world is full of weird people.”

  Forgetting her wallet seemed a strange inconvenience, just right to make us remain alone for some time. Perhaps, she had just pretended to have forgotten it, and I decided to check out my theory.

  Driving back, Sofia sat on the passenger seat, and we could talk more at ease. We had been quick, and we still had enough time to reach the station.

  “So, I guess you know that your friend blew me out tonight,” I said as a first cautious move.

  “I know everything. For how long have you been with her? Six months? No, don’t say anything, I know it.”

  “Well, then? What do you mean?”

  “What are you waiting for? Don’t you think it is time to make a serious move with her?”

  “Oh, you get to the point fast! Well, you know, she is very young for me, and I’m not yet sure that the move would be the right one for me.”

  “If she is too young for you, why are you staying with her? To waste her time for nothing?”

  “But this doesn’t depend only on me. I can’t help it if only young girls seem to be attracted by me. Perhaps, I’m not mature enough for mature women. What should I do? Stay alone?”

  “Come on! That’s an excuse. I think you’re not even trying.”

  “Okay, if you think so, why don’t we meet at leisure and you give me some other worthwhile suggestions, in case Fulvia leaves me? Can I have your phone number?”

  The ball was rolling now, I couldn’t stop it anymore.

  Sofia didn’t hesitate a single second. “Unlock your phone and give it to me. But keep watching the street!”

  She dialed her number on my phone, then called. When her phone buzzed, she hung up and gave me back the phone.

  “Here you are. Just remember to save it.”

  “Thank you! When can I call without disturbing you?”

  “From next week, you can call me whenever you like. Say nothing to Fulvia, or you’ll spoil everything. I’ll cut you off if you try.”

  “Don’t worry. I will call, just allow me some time to solve the work problems I’m having at the moment. I think we will understand each other perfectly.”

  I stopped in front of the train station again, and I let her go.

  She ran towards the entrance.

  She had a lovely, fit body, and her movements had a special grace together with a surprising swiftness, which gave a sensation of power.

  I had a sad, lonely night, with the only company of a bottle of whiskey, precisely the shit night I had tried avoiding in the company of Fulvia.

  I cursed my stupid mistakes of the last few years that had led me to lose a bunch of money because of wrong investments.

  I should have invested my time and money in some activity tied to the natural beauties and the art of our places, not in the development of new, risky technology, in a time of falling industrial investments and global demand.

  Now, I had to face a hard time to settle my position with a bank that, thanks to the recommendation by a good friend of mine, had made an even more stupid mistake: granting me a generous credit line. I had consumed it to the last cent, and now I had to refund it, or they would sue me.

  Fulvia’s brilliant idea to put me under pressure right when I had to recover from a harsh blow was only the least of my problems.

  Despite it, drunk and full of rage, I cursed her. I swore I would pay her back with interest, the same as what the bank wanted from me. I couldn't imagine where that decision would drag me.

  I stayed silent for a week, then I called Sofia, and we agreed to meet on Saturday night in Rome.

  Our relationship started quickly as a fire in straw. I told her that work would swamp me in the north for the next couple of weeks, which wasn’t a full lie. And I tried calling Fulvia again.

  A few days before Valentine’s Day, I finally got a new date, promising her a gorgeous gift. After an authentic night of passion—I couldn’t put it any other way—we went back to our routine, with my promise to think hard about our near future and be ready to take a decision.

  I also explained something about my business troubles, and I asked her to be patient if we couldn’t often meet in the next couple of months.

  After that, I fully recognize that I’d started a game with her and Sofia, using one or the other at will, choosing the one who made the less annoying request in the change of sex. The one who merely accepted to see me in my house or in her place, have dinner, maybe watch some television and then sleep together, would win that sort of concealed auction.

  This cozy pattern went on for over three months. Fulvia tried again to dump me from time to time,
but I was able to keep her, and with great mutual pleasure anytime we made peace.

  At a point, anyway, the game came to an abrupt stop.

  One day, Sofia made an unusual, excessive request of going out for dinner and then to a dancing club. It was weird behavior, since she’d always been the more affordable and reliable of the two.

  When I called on Fulvia, looking for a cheaper and less tiresome backup, she only said she didn’t want to see me. In fact, she seemed utterly annoyed.

  They were friends, I thought, and likely they had finally talked about my waving behavior and had discovered everything.

  The younger and more tender of the two had made a bet on my love narrative. She had to feel hurt and offended now, and she’d slammed the Luna Park’s gate in my face.

  That time, I turned to a third-choice solution that barely distracted me, making me regret the real party places. It was small damage if it was once in a while, I thought.

  The situation got bleak in the following weeks when I discovered that Fulvia would no longer accept my invitations while Sofia kept herself available, but at daunting conditions.

  After three weeks of this dirty game, I had to call back Sofia and accept her unrelenting requests to obtain a date.

  Vae victis!

  After completing the restaurant and nightclub chores that she imposed mercilessly, we retreated in my nearest resort. It was a small, ancient but romantic villa that I still owned at the foothills of the Castelli, the gentle, lovely reliefs rising beyond the south-eastern borders of the capital.

  I’d strenuously defended that property from the bank attacks, working like a mule to pay the monthly installments they had imposed for refunding my debt.

  But even when I lay on the bed by her side, caressing her firm breasts, I had to admit, when she questioned me wickedly, that I wasn’t in my usual jolly mood.

  “Yes, and I think you know why,” I answered. “Don’t play with me.”

  “You are the one who wanted to play, and not only with me! But, as I’m still here with you, it means I can understand what you were trying to do. Now, my love, tell me: are you suffering so much because you miss somebody?”