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Charlie
One more day of captivity. I’d starting marking off the days on a calendar; like a prisoner in Alcatraz.
Try as I might, I hadn’t been able to get past Bull all day. He was aptly named, I thought, because he was bullish about carrying out his duties – to the letter. It frustrated me beyond belief. As I idly clicked through the channels on the TV trying to figure out a way beyond the Bull, I was surprised how much I missed my dumpy little apartment – and my life.
\Sitting here in the lap of luxury, one would think I’d be content. But home was where you made it, and for better or worse, that was my crummy little apartment with its kitchen cabinet doors that didn’t close all the way; its five locks to safety on the front door; its chipped tile in the bathroom, and its stove with an oven that didn’t work.
But I paid for it with money I earned. It was the place I’d lived the longest alone since I’d been on my own at sixteen. And I missed it. It was home. And I wanted to go home. And when I did – because it was gonna happen I repeated to myself – I knew I’d look at it with new, appreciative eyes.
I sighed and leaned back into the cushions of Dante’s massive couch. The thing could double as a bed. Who need a couch this big, I groused, beginning to resent the luxury around me. A gilded cage is still a cage, I thought.
Bull was at his customary perch – at the marble counter in the kitchen – reading the financial pages. Since I had nothing but time on my hands, I might as well make the best use of it.
“Bull?”
“Yes Charlie,” he answered, turning his large frame in my direction. “Want something?”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” I said.
“What?”
“Information,” I said.
“Information about what?”
“Do you know Kim Saturn?”
“She’s hard to forget,” he said, wrinkling his huge forehead.
“Why do you say that?”
“She’s nothing like you,” he averted, obviously not wanting to talk about the women in his boss’s life.
“How is she different?”
“You’re nice,” he said, leaving the opposite implication for me to make.
“Does Dante have a lot of lady friends?”
“He never had me guard anybody but you,” he deflected.
I got up from the sofa and went over to him. “Bull, let’s not play games with each other.”
He lowered his eyes.
“You know exactly what I’m asking,” I said sweetly. “I like Dante. I just want to know if I have any competition. And please, don’t tell him I said that.” I surprised myself with that bit of candor. I did like Dante. And I did want to know if there were other women in his life.
Bull smiled. “I can tell Dante likes you too,” he answered, expertly avoiding answering my question.” I could tell this was an exercise in futility, so I seized on the one opening he did give.
“How can you tell that he likes me?”
“The way he looks at you. I never saw him look at anybody else like that. And I done seen Dante with a lot of ladies.”
“So he does have a lot of lady friends?”
Bull got to his feet, the movement so quick I almost missed it. He was agile for such a big man, I thought as my heart pounded in my chest.
Bull went to stand beside the door.
“Relax Charlie,” he said, noting my frozen stance. “It’s Dante.”
“How do you know?” I whispered.
Bull smiled. “I can tell by his footsteps.”
“How can you possibly tell that?” I asked, amazed.
“When you been doing this as long as I have, you pick stuff up,” he said as Dante entered.
“Pick what stuff up?” Dante asked, looking from me to Bull.
“Never mind that,” I said, the tension of the last few minutes boiling to the surface.