FORTY
RING . . . RING . . . RING . . .
The night is dark and quiet. The telephone is ringing and breaking the serenity. It echoes throughout the house. It almost feels ominous, somehow. Anij reluctantly walks up to the phone and picks it up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me, Mario.”
“Hey, hello. How are you?”
“Oh yeah, doing good. You?”
“I am pretty good. Thanks so much for all the deliveries.”
“No, no, no . . . I should thank you. You are the one who pulled off the deal with James, anyway. So thank you, man. We are now expanding pretty big and fast.”
“That is good. Anything I can do to help?”
“No. As long as you keep things cool with James, it should be enough. I am kind of too busy these days, you know. But it is all good.”
“Good. So . . . anything new? Something is happening over there?”
“Well . . . not much. Pretty quiet, so far. Seems like things are all under control.”
“Yeah? Good. Your brothers? They are doing well?”
“Oh, them? You know how they are . . . always just too high to care about anything, you know . . . What can I do?”
“Hahahaha. Still high all day long? Oh, well. As long as they keep themselves out of trouble, they should be fine.”
“Yeah. Just one thing, Anij.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Be careful with James all the time.”
“Why? He is okay and also helping us to move lots of stuff, right?”
“Oh, yeah . . . But he is a guy with a big name, you know. So you really never know what he will do to you or us. So always keep your eyes on James. He is one smart guy.”
“Oh, yeah. I know that. I have a few guys working for me to keep an eye on James 24/7. So don’t worry too much. I always try to have a Plan B, you know.”
“Wow! That’s good. Keep your blade sharp at all times, that’s all.”
“Hm . . . Thanks. Did you hear something about him? Is that why?”
“Not really. But you know . . . Especially in this industry, things can change dramatically in a minute. So I just want you to keep a distance.”
“Okay. I will do that. Thanks for calling.”
“Yeah. Okay. ’Bye.”
“’Bye.”
Anij hangs up the phone slowly. He has never really thought about a possible threat from James. But since Mario mentioned it, his level of interest has just gone up a notch. He pulls on his cigarette slowly, going over a few incidents that have happened so far. His eyes are filling up with doubts and skeptical ideas, but not much there to dig. Maybe it is coming, but not just yet.
Broad daylight is scorching the streets. Mirages creep up through the asphalt cracks. People are quietly walking down the street with shirts open. Sweat is trickling down their spines, soaking their shirts and pants. It all just seems so nice and innocent. Nothing bad could ever happen in this town.
Anij is having an afternoon “high” time with Samantha, as usual. This has become a normal routine for them ever since they got here. It is not an addiction to substances, but a vital requirement.
A ceiling fan is spinning. A glass of cold whisky is sitting on a table right beside the couch where they are passed out. The couch has lots of burn holes everywhere. Paradise must be here. Then, suddenly, Ring . . . Ring . . . Ring . . .
They are too lazy to pick up the phone. With absolutely no will to even move, they keep themselves busy with the phenomena of the narcotics. The phone stops ringing. Then, soon after, the phone rings again, violating the peace.
Anij slowly gets up very reluctantly and reaches for the phone. But hallucination works against him. He falls down on the floor. In his current state, he doesn’t feel anything. The trip is giving him the full joy of separation from the world. But he tries to keep his duties on the line. He gets up slowly and picks up the phone.
“Yellow!”
“Anij?”
“Yeah . . . What is it? Mario?”
“Yeah. Something smells bad here, man.”
“Yeah? Like a bad fish? Or expired cheese? Hahaha . . . Or did you cook?”
“No. Shit . . . Did you pick up on anything in the past few weeks? Any unusual stuff going on there?”
“Ah . . . Yeah. Last time I went to the bathroom, I couldn’t pee at all. That is something strange, isn’t it?”
“Oh, God . . . Wake up! Not that! Something strange in your town? Nothing?”
“Oh . . . Not really . . . I don’t know what you are talking about. I don’t even know what I am talking about . . . Hahaha!”
“Come on! Really? Nothing? Well . . . I don’t know. Things are awfully quiet here, lately. I didn’t get any strange reports from those guys . . . Oh . . . Whatever . . . Okay. ’Bye.”
“That is it?”
“Yeah . . . I just wanted to check. That is all.”
“Okay. Now I can go back to the land of euphoria. Here I come! W . . . o . . . w . . .”
“Oh, man . . . Wait! Who the hell are you guys?” BANG! BANG! BANG! “Ah . . . Anij . . . help . . .”
Anij has dropped the phone before Mario even finishes his sentence and resumes what he was doing. Samantha doesn’t even recognize what he is doing at all. She has been just looking at something for a while, but very focused and serious. Nothing can stop them from enjoying this great trip they are on. Anij closes his eyes to forget what he talked about on the phone and continues the journey. While they are experiencing their very private and cerebral journey, Mario and his crew are getting killed in the next city. Anij’s phone is lying on the floor, and screaming and gunshots are pouring out from it. But sadly, it is not loud enough for Anij to hear.
Four guys have broken into Mario’s office and unleashed their machine guns to have fun for a while. The bullets are finally experiencing the sweet air for the first time. But soon after, they are penetrating Mario and the other guys’ bodies and getting stuck on the wall with gooey blood all over. Mario and the other guys couldn’t possibly have dodged those free bullets. They got shot by hundreds of bullets, easily. Mario’s body is torn apart and almost not recognizable, even by his family. Those four guys who came into Mario’s office are doing their best to slash Mario into millions of pieces. Probably they are professionals. All this happens in twenty seconds. But this painless twenty seconds will create unfathomable and cataclysmic problems in the gang.
A few miles away, somehow Anij can’t care about that, since he is too busy with editing his nostalgic visions in his brain. There is no space for anything else, because the submission deadline is coming for an imaginary nostalgic video competition. After a few hours of endless journeys with Samantha, he is hungry. He gets up and tries to walk to the kitchen. A blank moment lands on him for a good ten minutes. His eyes are only blinking because his brain says so. Nothing else seems to be working voluntarily. He is just standing in front of the kitchen and doing nothing but staring into space. This effect is slowly fading away.
He looks back at Samantha. She doesn’t want to get off the train of joy. She is still lying on the couch. He slowly turns his head to the kitchen. The phone is lying on the floor. He is thinking whether he should pick it up. But his evil friend, Mr. Lazy, is telling him not to do it. So he simply obeys without any resistance and enters the kitchen to have a drink of water. And the phone keeps beeping the “busy” sounds.
After Anij had talked to Mario on the phone quite some time ago, he hasn’t gotten any calls from Mario or anyone else. And no phone calls from James, either. Anij thinks that it is not a big deal. The bad economy must be playing a nasty game with drug businesses all over town and that is why no delivery has been ordered in a while. Yes, surely it is possible . . . So he sits on his couch with a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other.
Samantha says, “It has been pretty quiet lately, right?”
“Yeah. Well. It is better this way. I don’t have to do anything.”
“I know. But it has been awfully quiet . . . maybe too quiet.” She sits on his lap.
“Yeah. That bugs me a little. But I had enough shit the last few months. So I deserve this break, I think.”
“Oh, yes. You do.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Maybe I will go out to do some shopping. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You want to come?”
“Nah. I will stay here.”
“Okay. See you.”
“Later.”
He enjoys this afternoon break with his favorite whisky and a cigar. Then the phone rings. This time it sounds a little different. Subconsciously he feels the difference and suddenly picks it up fast.
“Hello?”
“Anij?”
“Yeah. Rick?”
“Yeah. Me, Rick. Did you hear what happened to Mario a few weeks ago?”
“No. What happened?”
“Oh, shit! You don’t know?”
“No. What happened to Mario? Just tell me!”
“Okay . . . he is dead.”
“What? He is dead? What are you talking about? He is dead?”
“Yeah. Stone cold dead. I heard about it.”
“What the hell? No. I talked to him a few weeks ago. And why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”
“Well. I talked to him a few weeks ago, too. But he is dead now. You want to come and check it out?”
“Maybe I should.”
“Yeah, come down here and talk to the brothers.”
“Okay. I will call you later, okay?”
Anij is completely shocked. Suddenly all the good times that he’d had with Mario sweep in front of him. Once Mario was very much alive and now he is dead. It is hard to get his head around the concept of death. There have been always enemies due to the nature of the business. But he was not at the top of the list for every other gang around the town. Mario has been doing his business very fairly. Anij tries to think by whom and how he was killed. But mostly, why he was killed. There can’t be any logical sense to it. Mario never took anything personally. He always did what he had to do and managed situations well. That was one of the reasons he was respected, even by the other gangs. Maybe that was the reason why he was killed. Someone probably needed some motive to start a turbulence.
Mario has been a big brother to Anij, even though they never talked much. He taught Anij how to do business and keep the relationship. Anij starts to gather his thoughts over the past few months. It all seems clean. No fishy stuff. No strings were attached. No smelly transactions were made. He just can’t figure out who would do this. It is very possible that someone new started all this because they would have no fear. Considering Mario’s crew, there were always quite a few boys around him pretty much all the time. He never let things go loose. That is why this incident is so mind-boggling and intriguing.
There isn’t anything that Anij can do for now but to sigh. He doesn’t consider that this can possibly be coming from James. James is the biggest name around here. Mario never had any problem with James’s being a possible threat. Countless thoughts are springing from his brain, but there is not a single click yet. Then the phone rings again. He immediately picks it up.
“Hello?”
“Anij? It is James.”
“Oh, yeah. James.”
“I just heard that Mario is dead. I am sorry to hear that. I didn’t even know about this up until now. What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was actually thinking about that, too. I just can’t think who would actually do that to Mario.”
“Well . . . in this business, a life can be as trivial as a fly’s. They can stride a great distance, but they can also fall from the biggest cliff in a matter of minutes.”
“Well, I know that. But he has been so clean . . .”
“Well, maybe he had to do some extra business to make him clean. So that might be one of the causes.”
“Maybe . . . he was just too clean . . .”
“Everybody has some kind of skeletons in their closets, you know. Even I got a few of those . . .”
“Maybe we expanded too fast. Maybe . . . someone got jealous?”
“That is very possible. You’ve got to know this: You are not the only one who works in this business. There are quite a lot of people out there trying make it big. So this may be one of those collateral damages. It could be really anyone.”
“Shit . . . Ah . . .”
“As long as you are fine, I am relieved. But don’t ever let your guard down. You never know when it will be you. I will send some boys for you, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Don’t . . . This is the least I can do for you and Mario.”
“Okay. Thanks, though.”
“Okay. Try to get some sleep. Just try.”
Anij feels a little better. But the mystery is still standing in front of his face. He slowly hangs up the phone. He repeats what James told him. “This could be anyone . . . This could be anyone . . . Hm . . . Really . . . This could be anyone . . .”