Coffee, black please.” Rafael said.

Miranda wasn’t looking, but that deep growl of a voice made her stop in her tracks.

All these years, and Rafael Castillo had not changed. She knew why that was, but it never failed to amaze her. What it did was make her angry. Pablo was gone, and this thing still drew breath?

In the back, the cook, Terrance, noticed a change in Miranda’s stance and looked up.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. She glanced around. No one else was in the restaurant. It was late, only fifteen minutes to closing time.

“You’re looking well, Miranda.”

“I am not well. If you came here for apologies, or to ask for something, you might as well go back to whatever hole you just crawled up from.”

He shook his head. “You have my very deepest sympathy about Pablo.”

“Weren’t your people supposed to keep those things away from here? Where were you when they started running the streets again?”

“Is there a problem Miranda?”

The cook stood at the far end of the counter. He held a butcher knife in his hands.

“Terrance, there’s not,” she said, half turning to him.

“You sure?” the burly man drawled. “Because if there were a problem,” he fixed his eyes on Rafael. “I’d be prepared to handle it for you.”

“Mejo,” she said sternly. “I need you to finish what you were working on back there.”

“Sure.”

Terrance slipped back into the kitchen. He knew what that meant. That line was just as good as his grandmother saying, stay out of grown folks’ business. He stood, listening to what snatches of conversation he could catch, never once putting down his knife.

 *****

“We were not aware that there was any…activity in the area,” Rafael said carefully. “You know how that works. People see things, but they are afraid to say so. And those that do have their sanity questioned.”

“It’s your job to make sure,” she spat. “So why didn’t you?”

“I am not omniscient.”

“Obviously.”

“May I have that coffee?”

She poured him a cup, and then stood there. “We will be closing soon, so you might as well hurry it along.”

He took his time, stirring the coffee even though there was nothing in it.

“You should be proud. Your husband did a great service to the Sojourners, and at great personal cost to himself, you, and the rest of his family.” He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a piece of paper.

He leaned forward. “You will find this amount available in your bank account tomorrow.”

“I don’t want your money. You think that fixes everything?”

“You and I are worldly people,” he replied evenly. “Of course money does not fix the fact that you find yourself a widow. But it does make a great many things easier. That young man in the back, for instance. Wouldn’t it be nice if you had the money to give him a raise? Or perhaps fund his courses at culinary school? That would keep him out of trouble. Tax season is guaranteed to roll around again, and you’ll need to pay for that. Maybe update some equipment in your kitchen? Perhaps your own sons have student loans that need paying off? Or mortgages?”

“While you’re busy researching me for your bribes, there are Wolves out there.”

Rafael furrowed his brow, the first sign of true impatience. “Look at this as money that we owed Pablo, for services rendered. There are not many humans that know our secrets, but we considered him one of our best people. And I knew very well you’d accept nothing from me, that’s why I didn’t bring a check.”

“So one hand brings money. What does the other hand bring?” she asked.

“A simple request.”

“Well lets hear it. I’ll be damned if you expect me to promise you anything, money or not.”

“You have influence over this community. I’d appreciate if you kept things quiet with the people here. Of course, some of them know. We don’t want vigilantes going out, trying to solve this problem. Meting out the law to Wolves is our sole territory. We are the law.”

“You’re not doing anything.”

“We will,” Rafael said. He buttoned up his coat. “This cannot be allowed to escalate. Wolves have no regard for human law, and when their own are taken, regardless of the reason, they feel justified in waging war. And you don’t want that. Down here, they will come and kill as many as they wish. And the human authorities, seeing no better explanation, will call it gang violence.”

“Some of us still believe in an eye for an eye,” she said coldly.

“Yes, well,” Rafael said, standing. “I don’t have time to debate all night, but we understand each other. Keep your men out of the alleys. Make sure they leave their knives and blow torches at home.”

___________________________ 

© 2009 Lori Titus

I don’t know why we have to have the same argument over and over.  I said I was sorry.  Why can’t we just move on?
 
And let me just add that it took both of us to get to this point. 
 
And again, I know what you’re going to say, that I had become cold and distant, that you still loved me, but you needed passion in your life, that you tried to tell me this, but I wouldn’t listen.
 
But the thing is, I did listen, and I did respond.  I just didn’t respond how you wanted.  I told you it was a rough time for me, that things would get better, to just be patient.  And I know that I was screaming when I said this, but that’s just because I needed passion in my life too. 
 
You became distant at that point, and I’ll say it for the thousandth time, my reaction, or more accurately, my non-reaction, wasn’t because I didn’t care.  On the freaking contrary, I didn’t react because I do love you and I understood what you were going through. I was just trying to give you space, not push you away, because I understand what it’s like to need space and to get pressured instead.
 
Now, hold on, don’t speak just yet.  I know it sounds like I’m putting it all on you, but I’m not.  I just wish you would see my side of the story, because I know that once we develop perspective, things look a lot different.
 
Go ahead and wipe that smirk off your face.  I know you’re mocking me in your head, and it’s because I had the ultimate opportunity to develop perspective, that I got to see the happy and the stuck and which category I fell into. 
 
But here’s the kicker, baby. You’re right beside me in this one, so mocking me is mocking yourself.
 
Hah!  Smirk’s gone and scowl has arrived.
 
No! No! No! Wait!  I’m sorry.  I’m becoming petty, and that’s not what I want to do right now.  As I said, I just want you to see my side.  I want you to understand how much it hurt to see you with that other man.
 
I know we were separated at the time.  I know I was with another woman.  That doesn’t mean that I didn’t love you.  I was just playing games.  I know that was stupid now.  But you were playing games too.  When I confronted you, you tried to pretend that you didn’t love me anymore.  You tried to pretend that you wouldn’t come back to me.
 
No.  Don’t interrupt.  I know what you’ve said.  I remember what you’ve told me since, that you really didn’t love me, that you really wouldn’t have come back, but I know you.  You’re stubborn.  You’d never admit that you were lying. 
 
But, you see, the proof is in the pudding. You’re by my side now. 
 
And I know that I restrained you.  I know I tied you to the bedpost.  I know I shouldn’t have done that, but you have to understand how desperate I felt.  I wanted you to stay, because I love you so much. And it seemed like you weren’t even listening.  The way you were shouting and trying to pull from my grip, it was like you were really going to leave.
 
Damn it!  And there you go again, trying to move away from me now.  Go ahead.  It’s not like I can tie you up again.
 
No.  Wait.  I’m sorry.  I wouldn’t tie you up even if I could.  I don’t even think I need to.  I think that’s why we’re together now.  It’s because we’re soul mates. The universe has glued us together.
 
And I know what you’re going to say to that.  I know we’ve met others like us roaming around, and I know they all had one thing in common, that it was the passion that made them stay.  And I know passion isn’t the word you choose.  I know you like to call it violence.
 
Call it what you want, but we have to stop playing games.  We have to accept that we love each other and were meant to be together.  We have to accept that we were both at fault for me shooting you and then shooting myself. 
 
Damn it! Come back here.

__________________

©2010 Joshua Scribner

Joshua Scribner is the author of the novels Mantis Nights, The Coma Lights and Nescata.  His fiction won both second and fifth place in the 2008 Whispering Spirits Flash Fiction contest.  Up to date information on his work can be found at joshuascribner.com.  Joshua currently lives in Michigan with his wife and two daughters.

Also, you can read Joshua’s interview with Flashes in the Dark here:

http://flashesinthedark.com/2010/01/24/sunday-special-joshua-scribner/