Marcos stared at the walls while he was sitting in the waiting room of Doc Jim´s practice. He noticed with some surprise that Jim was truly a doctor as evidenced by the title exhibited in a frame, as well as numerous diplomas for courses taken in his specialty.
Uncle Charley had entered the attention room with Nubia, and the young man let his thoughts wander. He felt a sweet taste in his mouth and knew immediately that it was due to the moments spent in the girl´s company and their brief chat. The boy was struck by her beauty from the first moment he had raised her helpless body in the alley, notwithstanding how dirty and scruffy she was. Sporadic talks after that moment had exposed the young man to a certain magnetism and strength that emanated from her. Marcos did not know it yet but he was falling in love with the girl passing over ethnic differences, the enormous geographical and cultural gap of the societies where they had grown up, and their extreme differences in their biographies and the experiences they had gone through.
Marcos was lost in his own thought and was especially exploring his feelings and emotions so he did not realize that Nubia and Charley were leaving the consultation room. Only he reacted when he heard the voice of the latter calling him.
“Well boy, let's go home.”
Charley said goodbye to his old friend, another African American of approximately the same age and discretely paid his fees. The men shook in a tight embrace. On leaving Charley was visibly moved by having reencountered his comrade.
“I haven´t seen him in about five years. He looks quite older but his pulse is still strong. Who knows how he sees me.” The phrase was a kind of mix between a realistic reflection and a rhetorical question.
“Anyway, let´s go to the car, I parked it a block from here.”
“Laura. Kolski speaking. Tell Lieutenant O'Halloran I think I have seen the woman you are looking for. She is accompanied by two men, an old black guy and a white young man.” He then gave the location of his finding.
“Good. What do I do now? ... Okay, I´ll follow them until further notice ... no, no siren, of course.”
Charley drove his old Toyota into the garage where he usually parked it a few blocks from his home, an old local with a metal curtain fitted with a padlock.
“Charley, what is this place? Does it belong to you?” Asked Marcos as he helped Nubia to descend from the car.
“No! Of course not. Like everything that I use it belongs to a friend.”
“Also an Army buddy?”
“Am I that predictable?”
“Please Charley, I did not mean that.”
“Bah! No offense taken.” The man looked away with sad eyes. “Old Charley and his former comrades. Everything belongs to the past.”
He shook his head to scare away any bad thoughts and added.
“But let´s walk to my store, we have five long blocks to go, and we do not want to expose Nubia to potentially hostile eyes.”
The patrolman radio beeped. The police responded immediately.
“Kolski.”
“Kolski. I'm O'Halloran. Are you still in the same position you gave half an hour ago?”
“No lieutenant. The person of interest and her companions have moved in the meantime.” He then gave the new location.
“Well, you can go now and forget all about all this.”
“All right Lieutenant.”
“Ah! Kolski.”
“Yes Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, I will not forget this.”
“All right, Lieutenant.”Repeated Kolski
The intrigued young patrolman Kolski grimaced but finally reflected.
<This is not my problem. >
He checked his watch and remembered that they had agreed with Vince Caruso to take a beer at Frank & Johnny. Perhaps also Leroy Washington was coming.
As she descended from the car and started walking Nubia suddenly showed signs of feeling sick.
“What happens? Are you dizzy?” Asked Marcos.
“Probably a side effect of the pain relievers that Doc Jim gave her before removing the infected stitches.” Added Charley.
“No no! Something is not right. I know, but I cannot say what it is.” Emphatically replied the girl.
“Has this happened to you before?” Asked the old man.
“Once. Just before the hijackers attacked the school in Ethiopia. The principal did not listen to me then.”
Marcos looked at the girl with skepticism, while Charley said cryptically.
“I'm going back to the car, I remember that I forgot something. Wait for me here, do not move.”
The man retraced his steps, opened the lock and slid the garage door, and after a few minutes returned without making any comment. He told the young people to follow him.
“But Charley, this is not the way to your store.” Argued Marcos.
“No, it is not, just follow me.”
They walked along lonely streets of Harlem, between houses and warehouses that were almost entirely abandoned and crumbling. The two men began to breathe easier as they passed the storehouses and nothing happened and only Nubia exhibited obvious signs of restlessness. They were nearing the end of one block and Charley was about to terminate the long detour they had done and then start really leading them home.
“Marcos, instead of returning to your apartment tonight it might be good for you to stay with us at home. I have a mattress we can lay on the floor.”
“As you wish Char ...” The sentence was interrupted by Nubia´s sudden cry; as the men looked at her she was holding her head between her hands. At that moment a screech of brakes was heard and at the corner toward which they were heading a dark car emerged from the shadows, from which immediately two black and burly men got down holding weapons and pointing directly to them without shots being heard, no doubt due to the use of silencers. Charley was however hit a projectile and fell from the blow. Marcos took Nubia´s arm and tried to cover her with his body in a doorway that offered some minimal shelter. What followed was simple, fast and brutal.