The day started with a tiny sliver of light
infiltrating the broken blinds and illuminating his pale face. Keith lay on his
old green couch, still clutching the half empty bottle of Bacardi in his right
hand. In his left hand he held a red pillow, which with he pushed down on his
face with all the strength he had left. He tried hard to go back to sleep, but
he just could not ignore the terrible pulsing inside his head. As he lay in his
misery he heard his phone ring.
"Really, it's too early for
all that," he thought to himself as he attempted to get off the couch.
Keith's limbs felt as if they would fall of
any second now. He threw the pillow to the other side of the living room and
finally stood up on his two feet. He then commenced to stumble towards
the phone that was on the floor right next to the apartment door, leaving the
bottle of rum on the floor besides him. His apartment wasn't much to look at.
He was twenty-five and single, that’s all one really needs to know. He had a
small TV onto the opposite of the couch that sat onto of a small counsel table.
An old The Beatles poster hanged just above it. The kitchen was just
right size to accommodate a fridge, sink, and stove.
Keith lazily picked the phone up and placed
it on his right ear and cheek.
“Hey Keith, you ready for Friday?”
Her sweet voice was more than enough to make
him forget about his horrifying hangover.
"Hey Ana, ohm yea, of course,” he
uttered in an excited tone.
“About that, what time you getting here
again?” He nervously asked.
“At 9:30am”
“Alright…cool. You still staying with Kelly?”
He was now making his way onto the small kitchen. His mouth was extremely dry
and he disparity needed water.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost forgot
to tell you, and you wont believe this; Kelly’s apartment was burned down!"
"You serious, that's crazy! Were you guys
inside when it happened, “he asked still trying to hold back the persistent
hangover.
He took a glass from the clean pile of
dishes. He was about to serve himself water from the sink, but remembered that
for some odd reason only the hot water was running. Instead, Keith got out the
cool water he had stored in a gallon the night before.
"Thankfully, we were
actually staying at Sam's place when it happened. Apparently some psychopath-firebug
lit the place up.” She mimicked the sound of an explosion.
"That’s crazy, they find the guy?"
He asked as he finished his cup of water.
"Yea, the creepiest part is actually the
fact that he was my freaking neighbor!"
"That is scary stuff. I’m glad
they caught the dude." He stated as he held rubbed his forehead.
Keith opened up a cabinet in hops of finding
some aspirin. He usually kept a bottle or two around to take care of those
pesky headaches, which seamed to be increasing in numbers over the last three
years.
"You feeling alright Keith, you sound
pretty weird," She inquired.
“Who, me? I’m good...just a little sick is
all.”
“Alright, well I really gotta get going. Cant
wait to see ya, bye!”
“Bye-bye.”
Ana and Keith grew up in Brooklyn, meeting
each other through their parents. Their fathers started doing business together,
eventually becoming very close friends. He was a good father but not a very good man. Antonio, Keith’s dad,was a sergeant for one of the most brutal crime organizations of New
York. Antonio mostly dealt with money laundering and prostitution. His dangerous way of
life came to an abrupt end when his Alfa Romeo GTV6 was
forcefully stopped by a group of Russian mobster and gunned down. never wanted him to fallow in his footsteps. Unfortunately, a life of crime seemed like the only thing Keith knew . When he was 18 he started building up
connections. Now at age 25, he had just moved into Maplewood in hopes of
working with some big league guys, to make some big league money.
After
taking a quick shower and eating a bagel, it was time for work. He made his way
out of the dark apartment and into the sunny streets of Maplewood putting on
some dark shades to prevent his headache from getting worse. He wore a blue
dress shirt tucked into his grey suit pants that went perfectly with his old
black loafers. As he walked toward his
left he came across an old stone gargoyle head. He looked up and thought, “jeez, one of these days someone goanna get
seriously hurt.” Keith walked around it and made a turn on the corner,
walking pass the ally up Sycamore Street. There it was. Just across the
abandoned hotel, Mr. Ling-Lings noodle cart. He crossed the street to talk to
him.
“Afternoon Mr. Ling”
The sight of Keith startled Mr. Ling, who
appeared to be searching for something under his cart.
“Oh. Haha…hey Keith how ya doing.” His face
turned pale and his hands began to shake.
“Well I’m jus dandy Ling, but you know who
isn’t so dandy? Mr. Clemenza.”
Keith placed both his hand on the cart,
leaning in closer to Ling. Ling took a step back
“And you know he ain’t gonna be dandy in a
few seconds once I trash his little noodle cart onto the street?”
“Hey man, no need for that…I, I had the money
I did…but ah…”
“But what Ling, you know the damn rules!” He
grabbed Ling by the collar and pulled him close to him, almost knocking the
cart down.
“It’s the Russians! Two men came over to me
and said that Sergey sent them. He said that if I gave Mr.Clemenza any more
money, they would strap me to my cart and throw me in a river…and I even
swim Keith…I cant swim!”
The poor man began to cry. He was lucky he
was dealing with Keith; any other guy would have filled him with holes by now.
“Well Ling. I think its time to have a talk with our Russian
friends .”
He walked away, leaving Ling to sob the
floor. He got his phone from his pocket and made a call.
“Hello, Mr. Clemenza…we have a problem.”
