No Happy Endings

by Angel Luis Colón

  Pete followed. “You want some company?”

  “Not really.” Fantine opened the apartment door and turned. “Maybe I’ll stay scarce for a while. Check into a motel while this all gets worked out.”

  “Look, man, you can stay in your own home, I wasn’t trying to scare you or...”

  “It’s not that,” Fantine cut him off, “I don’t know. I need to know that this whole thing isn’t omnipresent.” She threw her hands in the air. “Go on and give the asshole my number then. Tell him to call me when he has, you know, something real to talk about instead of shitting on my life.” She walked out.

  Pete called after her, but she ignored him. Fantine didn’t have it in her to continue the talk. It would devolve. She would get mean—she always did—and then there would be even more drama. There was a time she didn’t mind that, but these days she didn’t have the stomach for it.

  Three blocks away from her apartment, Fantine’s phone rang.

  “I am glad you are agreeable.” Aleksei sounded pleased with himself—all cat that got the canary.

  “When do we discuss logistics?” Fantine felt her cheeks flush. This turn around made her wonder how honest Pete was being with her. Who was she kidding? She got played—again. And here she was feeling bad for making Pete deal with her drama. He was conning her. She wondered how much of that had to do with hard feelings over wanting to remain only friends. Fantine wanted to think better of Pete, but for him to be working an angle with Aleksei, well, there’d be few ways for her to think worse of him.

  Aleksei snorted. “Logistics, very professional. I will text you address, okay?”

  “Yeah, fine—beautiful.” Fantine disconnected the call.

  Pete was honest about one thing, there were no choices here. Fantine wanted to march back upstairs and break his nose, but that would be a small moment of happiness. No, she’d take care of business, get her cut, and then move on with Jae. Her father would fight against moving tooth and nail, but she was sure she could convince him to go someplace warmer. He’d been complaining about the weather all last winter either way. There was an opportunity here. She only needed to keep her mind on that and she could get past this mess quick and easy.

  As for Aleksei, he would have her services—fine—but he sure as hell wasn’t going to have her full cooperation. The man wanted her mother? Then that’s exactly what he would get—a professional pain in the ass.

  4

  October 26th, 2012—Battery Park—New York

  Fantine stared at the address on her phone. Then she looked up to the large sign in front of the building with the same address. EVENSIGHT STORAGE, it read. She turned around and tried to spot Aleksei or the twins. There were only milling commuters, cars, buses, and cabs going to their destinations. She could see the entrance to the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. There was no sign of her employer or any other sites that shared the address provided.

  “Okay,” Fan told herself as she walked up the steps and through the revolving door. Maybe she was still too tired—it wasn’t even seven in the morning. She imagined Aleksei losing his temper because he intended she meet him at some unmarked shit-hole that served greasy pancakes or whatever the hell a man like him would eat. Blintzes, she thought to herself, Russians eat blintzes—maybe. She pondered whether she was racist to believe Aleksei gorged on blintzes regularly as she pushed the revolving door to enter the building.

  Inside smelled the way an emergency room did. There were rows of yellow and orange chairs arranged in rows of five that stretched down the large space and petered out near a reception desk staffed by two male nurses. A linoleum floor that put no effort into looking like the marble it was intended to be a facsimile of. There were posters all over with smiling, variously ethnic faces with the company’s logo. Not a damn thing indicated what the exact purpose of Evensight Storage was. Nothing looked to be stored here. The place reminded her of the free clinic her mom would take her to whenever she had a late night fever. Sudden memories of painful penicillin shots filled her mind and she absent-mindedly rubbed her right bicep.

  Three rows in sat Aleksei—his twin meatheads seated behind him. Aleksei waved to Fantine with a sour frown. “You are late.”

  Fantine sat beside him. “Took me a minute to figure out this was the place.” She looked around. There were a few people seated at different spots, but the place was quiet. Three TVs played the morning news on mute with garbled closed captioning explaining that an accident was causing traffic on the “huchinsin RyVr Parkway.”

  “I gave you the address.” Aleksei shifted in his seat and grimaced.

  “Yes, you did.” Fantine continued looking around. Nothing in the clinic seemed to stand out, but it was still a bizarre place to meet. “It’s so nondescript here.”

  “That is what they want.” Aleksei cleared his throat. He turned his head either way and leaned forward. “This is a very private place.” He lowered his voice as he spoke, “Very exclusive.”

  “What, this some kind of private rehab?” Fantine turned and waved to the twins. They didn’t say hi back. They weren’t happy to be here either. She wondered why.

  Aleksei turned to her and gave a sly smile. “Are you a worldly woman?”

  “I’ve been to Florida, if that’s what you’re asking. I avoid places where everyone talks with silly accents for the most part.” She smirked. “And yes, I’m aware people in Florida have silly accents.”

  Aleksei laughed joylessly. “Very well. I will explain.” He looked over his shoulders again. Leaned in. “You know China runs the world now, right?” he whispered.

  Fantine nodded. Great, she thought to herself, politics with an idiot—quiet, sneaky politics at that. “Sure. Big time money over there.” She matched his volume. Not like she was well-versed in global politics either, but she could bullshit her way around these kinds of conversations. Agreeing was better than trying to steer the car with a man like Aleksei. She’d rather leave this place as soon as possible. She was already taking a half day from work.

  “Yes, well, in China it appears they have a problem. A lot of pollution. All that money and no long term thinking.” Aleksei ran a hand down the lapels of his jacket. “This has caused problems for some very powerful men.”

  “Is this some creepy organ harvesting thing?” Fantine wasn’t sure why that thought came to mind, but she figured expecting the worst was the best course of action. “Or wait, do you need kidneys or something? You know you have a son, right?”

  Aleksei rubbed his chin. “Not exactly. It appears all that pollution is making these, eh, captains of industry unable to perform properly.”

  She didn’t like where this was going. “Oh-kay...”

  “In turn that has caused a sudden demand for a product—specifically a product derived from a very special group.” Aleksei discretely pointed a thick finger towards the door next to the nurse’s station. “They store that product here—in the basements. Very high security. Hundreds of the best men in their fields, Ivy League graduates, all-star athletes have left the product here.”

  “Oh, Christ, please don’t tell me this is going where I think it is.” Fantine felt the sides of her mouth tug down as if weights were hooked on.

  “In China, they can demand almost five thousand dollars for as little as ten milliliters of it.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Fantine wanted to vomit. She covered her face with her hands. “And we’re here. You meet here of all places. Fucking subtle.” She sighed.

  Aleksei nodded. “Miss Park, I want you to break into this place and steal some of the most valuable genetic material in the world for me. Nearly ten million dollars’ worth.”

  Fantine didn’t know how to react. Money, jewelry—sure—that was easy to steal, but this? “Are you asking me to break into a sperm bank?”

  One of the twins stifled a laugh.

  “Exactly. A very different kind of bank heist, no?” He slapped a paw on her leg and laughed. “Quite the story to tell if it is successful.
”

  “I don’t understand.” She turned and watched the nurses’ station. “It’s not like this is Fort Knox. Why not pay one of those guys off? I’m damn sure any one of them would love to retire from a gig like this.”

  Aleksei shook his head. “Not so easy. They value privacy here. Security is much stronger within and I hear whoever runs the show inspires immense loyalty.”

  Great, so there was someone involved who had a measure of power that was at a level that Aleksei would respect. Fantine didn’t like how that made her feel. “And you think I can do this alone?”

  “Not at all. But you have knowledge of the locks inside.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You work for the company that helps to make them.”

  Her heart sank. Pete sold her out one hundred percent. There was no way for Aleksei to know otherwise. It was obvious from the start and it was obvious now. He told his father everything.

  Pete and his family had a habit of fucking family and friends over in the name of money. It was a near-hereditary disease and Fantine excused it all in the name of friendship. Now this was the punishment. Stealing fancy sperm. Her mother would have laughed Aleksei out of the room at such an offer, but with the threat against her father, Fantine knew she had no options. Especially if Pete was a part of all this. It was all too much. She made a mental note to stop at a bar—any bar—before heading into work after this meet. There was a pang of guilt; Fantine really entertained staying sober until this earthquake came along. The thought of disappointing her dad like this was the absolute worst of it, but she’d sooner take a disappointed Jae than a dead one. She knew she couldn’t handle losing him too.

  “Alright, so I know about the locks. This place is huge. You can’t expect me to get in here alone.” She jabbed a thumb behind her. “Unless these two are my back up.”

  Aleksei nodded. “You are as prescient as your mother, but yes, I do expect you to do this alone.”

  “That was a joke, right?” Fantine turned and stared at the twins. They were smiling. “I break into places. I don’t plan, drive, carry; none of that shit.”

  “No other choice, young lady,” Aleksei said curtly. “You will do as you are told. This is a job that requires secrecy and a quick hand. I cannot trust anyone else. Of course, if you do not feel this is a feat that you can accomplish, then our business will conclude as I stated it would.”

  He was clearly alluding to her father. Fantine felt her stomach churn. “Fine, whatever. I’ll do what’s needed to get you your artisanal jizz. What’s my cut?”

  “Now you are interested in money?”

  “The cut.” Something had to go her way here.

  “Twenty-five percent. You will be doing most of the work—none of the actual heavy lifting—but there is a lot of labor on your part.”

  That seemed fair to her. “How about thirty?” Fantine figured she press her luck. If anything, it would annoy Aleksei further. At least she’d get enjoyment out of it.

  Aleksei answered with a hard stare.

  “More like twenty-seven, then?” Fantine gave him a wide smile. The kind a kid would give their mom when asking for an extra slice of cake.

  “I will be able to get you more information soon.” Aleksei stood up. “There is one problem—not so much your problem, but something you should know about.”

  Fantine looked up at him. Aleksei took up most of her view. It felt like he’d come bearing down any second. She imagined all that weight choking her off from breath and light. It didn’t seem that unappealing. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

  “There are rumors about this place. The job must be done quickly and with discretion.”

  Fantine rolled her eyes. “Obviously, rumors or not, nobody wants to get arrested.”

  “There are far worse things than getting arrested, devushka.” Aleksei motioned for the twins to stand and the three walked out together.

  Fantine stayed seated. She watched the room. Eyed the young men milling around nervously. They edged towards the nurses’ station as if they were going to ask someone to dance. There were a few veterans in the place as well. Those chosen few who knew their way around a sperm bank—deposits were old hat for them. The idea of it; that someone would pay so much for the genetic material of any of these people felt ludicrous. She understood the purpose—even if she never wanted kids—but it was the price tag that really got to her. She never met a man worth a quarter what he thought. Even her father—and she loved him.

  Fantine stood up and walked over to the nurses’ station. Cut off a particularly heavyset kid who seemed to have a case of leg stutters—he couldn’t make it to that desk. She smiled to the man sitting behind the desk and writing on a ledger. He wore purple scrubs and was fit. Looked as if he’d been a model in a former life, but the thin, red scar running from his left temple and down his face to the base of his jaw seemed to ruin that idea.

  “Excuse me?” Fantine turned on the charm.

  He looked up and nodded. “Yes?” There was a hint of accent to the voice. His eyes were grey—cold as stone.

  Fantine cleared her throat and fidgeted. She could tell if the charm was on, it wasn’t working. “I know you probably don’t do the procedure here, but do you have any information on in-vitro? My partner and I are beginning to look into starting a family and...”

  The nurse lifted a broad hand for her to stop talking. Turned in his chair for a moment and spun back around. He produced a stack of leaflets and pamphlets. “This is all we have.” He slapped them on the counter and went back to his ledger.

  “Great.” Fantine scooped up the papers. She leaned in to get a glimpse of the nurse’s nametag. J. Placido. “Thanks Mister Placido.” She turned to walk away.

  “I apologize, but how do you know my name?” His tone was pleasant, but there was something underneath. Was it anger?

  Fantine arched an eyebrow and turned around. “Your name tag.” She pointed to his chest.

  Nurse Placido looked down at his chest as if he’d discovered a dark secret. “Oh, my mistake.” He forced a smile. “I always forget I have it on.” A forced chuckle. “I probably put it on my T-shirts when I have the day off.”

  “Sure.” Fantine nodded. “Have a good one.” This time she rushed out the door. Placido skeeved her out, hell, everything about this place felt off. She didn’t want to linger any more than she needed.

  Outside, the streets were a little more active. Nobody seemed to pay the building any mind, and really, why would they? Fantine couldn’t remember ever seeing or knowing where a sperm bank was. Sure, she knew about them—probably made the off-color joke or two in her time—but she never outright had confirmation they existed. That sperm would be so valuable was a fact she’d never imagined. Now she wondered about the logistics. Her specialty was breaking and entering. Hazardous medical materials—not so much. What if something spilled? Worse; what if it spilled on her? She fought the dry heaves the thoughts invoked and rushed off towards the closest subway station.

  There was still the matter of getting extra information at her job. If Aleksei was right and this place used her company’s locks, she needed to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises.

  5

  Pete stood outside the entrance of the subway. He was blocking Fantine’s way. His hands dug into his pocket. He looked about as grey as the clouds wrapped around the tops of the glass buildings flanking them. “Hey...” He rocked back and forth like a scolded child.

  Fantine reared back and shoved him as hard as she could. A part of her hoping he’d take a tumble down the stairs behind him.

  Pete stumbled back down the first few steps. Grabbed the railing to keep from cracking his head open. His eyes went wide. After he found his footing, he looked back to her. Kept his distance. “Dude, I get it.”

  Fantine wanted to leap on him, to punch his stupid, pudgy, lying face until it changed shape. “You set this whole thing up. Did you need money? What was it, asshole?” She made a move t
owards him, her fist cocked back.

  Pete held a hand up. “Dude, just hold up, hold up.”

  “Stop calling me dude.” Fantine kicked at him and missed. She turned to see Aleksei and the Twins watching in silence. “You really shit on this friendship, man.”

  Pete nodded. “Fan, I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, suck my dick.”

  “Ma cut me off. We’re already behind on rent. I can’t get a job; I have no fucking qualifications. All I ever did was odd jobs for my dad.” He gestured to his father weakly. “If I didn’t reach out to him, we’d be in a bigger hole than we already are.”

  “We?” Fantine turned back to Pete. “That’s the royal we, right? Because I hand you my share every month on time. Always on time,” her voice was rising. People were watching, slowing down to listen in. Whatever. Fantine didn’t care. A part of her hoped this would cause the job to go belly up. “What the hell were you doing with our money?” She ran a hand over her face. “And seriously, how can you be such a typical goddamned loser?”

  “Look, what matters is we talk,” Pete said.

  “Talk? You could have told me you needed money. Dude, I have enough from the dispatch gig to take a hit. I’m no Scrooge McDuck, but it’s there.” The anger took over and she swung her bag against Pete’s head. “What the hell else do I spend my extra money on? My dad and the locks I fuck with—food, that’s all.”

  Pete looked to the ground in shame. “I’ve tried everything except getting a gig at Wendy’s or fucking Mickey D’s. I’m a fuck up, Fan. I’ll own that, but come on. This,” he lowered his voice and leaned in, “this is a good opportunity for all of us and you said it. Your money needs to go to your dad. How could I ask you to get me out of the hole?”

  Fantine tried composing herself, though she really wanted to hit Pete again—and again. She took a breath. “Out of the hole? Are you in debt to anyone? Is that a part of this mess?” No, those weren’t questions Pete was entitled to. This was long past any phase of providing sympathy and a shoulder to lean on. He’d pulled her back into a life she’d never wanted to have to fall back into. Fantine threw her hands up and shook her head. “No, I don’t want to know. Whatever it is, you can bury yourself.” Fantine slung her bag over her shoulder. “Fuck off, Pete. Seriously, I’m not saying this out of anger.” She walked past him. “Take every excuse, every single ridiculous reason, and shove it straight up your ass. Then die in a fire.”