Adversary (13 page)

***

Alanda’s tranquility and soft countenance is what he required to conclude the harshness of the day.

He strangled a thief this afternoon. Choked life from his body. Nine years of politeness ended with an early retirement. Then there is the worrisome business of family. Matteo climbed him like a monkey, instructing he not do this or do that, an old hag that Matteo. And of course, the anxiety he had over his brother. These dooming forecasts were disturbing. Instinct, he always said, but Giuseppe would only see death and coffins. His father, Uncles, his fratellino and now his woman and son. Bad images he preferred to keep at bay. Women, exercising his right to do as he pleased helped Giuseppe stay free and not imprisoned by what would come…death.

He did not understand Alfonzo at times, a powerful man had many concerns, and however this obsession with their father had made him begin to fight himself. Luzo Palazzo was an ass, Alfonzo was not. Stubborn, humorless at times, yet honorable is the description assigned to his caring brother. But, he did not see his goodness. He did not see he was blessed with many children and yes, a loving imperfect wife.

He rubbed his forehead harder. The pain came occasionally to his skull. The shooting had left many scars, but he would not allow Shanda to run and flee from commitment. He wanted to marry her; he wanted her as his wife. The dalliances were habitual, very hard to break this learned behavior. He had tried but it cost him peace to do so. The ache worsened and he bowed his head which Alanda rubbed silently. “Dispiace bella, I only need quiet and sleep.”

Alanda’s softness mellowed him out as he stretched clothed only by skin. She let him lie there, rubbing his member and thighs. It felt good but the headache prevented him from rising.

“I will get you something for the pain,” the sculptress whispered in the dark and he heard her leave.

She returned with pills and his eyes opened to read the label. It is not he did not trust her but habit made him skeptical of others. He took out two when satisfied and swallowed them whole. A sip of water followed and he reclined his head waiting for the drug to take hold. He did not want to leave his home. He was wracked with guilt, but the headache had begun and Shanda was too angry to give him peace.

Rubbing softly Alanda whispered, “Relax…sleep mio Geo.”

His body followed her command.

“I will take care of you.”

The words cut through the ache.

The medication began to work.

Gently as feathers she massaged his forehead. “Sleep…sleep.”

She nuzzled her head to his chest and he gripped her hard. Alanda is who he held when he nodded under the analgesic thinking of the warning on the bottle not to operate heavy machinery, which he considered his dick. Sleep is what came. Dreams of his son and Shanda brought a smile to his mouth with a twitch.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sweat.

Slid like liquid ice.

In a continuous stream it flowed from the men’s scalps.

It oozed along the contours of skin and then dripped from their chins.

The perspiration of sparring men struck with quiet collision to the porous mat.

Breaths, more akin to pants barreled the massive chests.

Chests heaved in opposing rhythms from the pounding of internal drums. Upon inhalations, concave indentations formed below washboard abs and the base of the neck where flesh meets bone. On the sideline were walls, barbells and the stuff Alfonzo considered props for those who required assistance. It’d been months since the shooting and that’s how long it took Alfonzo to fully heal. Today he wanted to test his body’s conditioning against Tony’s MMA skills and found himself disappointed that his opponent wanted to play ‘Blow Smoke Up the Boss Ass’ instead of going for a win like a hungry fighter.

Opponents stood their ground, equally matched and improperly geared in basic gym shoes and shorts. Tattoos in bold color and dark shadow hid scars on a canvass of flesh which belonged to the younger of the two by perhaps a year. Tony followed his Boss’ lead and stepped forward to the center of the mat to begin round two.

Alfonzo flexed in agitation the taut muscles pronounced where it counts and sneered at Tony for holding back when what he wanted was a goddamn challenge. Pummel the shit out of me, strike with everything you got, his mind screamed in silence. He needed to feel the hits and come back swinging because that’s how he responded to life.

Alfonzo’s eyes focused on Tony’s. There wasn’t much of a height difference. Their weight was nearly equal. Alfonzo’s only advantage was his position as the Boss. He wanted Tony to chuck it aside and come hard. “Bring your best every time in the ring with me Tony, comprende?”

Tony nodded. He’d held back a tad. He also underestimated the level of Alfonzo’s skill. He hadn’t seen the man in physical combat and assumed a gun or knife were what he used to cut down men because Alfonzo never bragged about having any formal martial arts training. Tony knew he worked out a lot but assumed it was for fitness like other health conscious people. But, that first round proved the guy had extremely lethal limbs. Since learning Alfonzo could handle a punch and more than a handsome rich dude, Tony gave his boss a run for his money.

In rapid succession Tony struck making contact with Alfonzo’s golden skin and the response he received rattled his bones.

Jab, high kick, uppercuts and hooks. Head and arm holds, broken by good defense strategies. Joint locks, clinches and neither man submitted. It’s the lightning speed of agile limbs that garnered a takedown. Tony’s face pressed to the mat in submission. Middleweight guys equally skilled, but the fighter who came out on top was the Don in a fight with himself.

He released Tony, backing off and both men were up on their feet. Pants, open faucet sweats rushing down rivets of different colored skins.

“That’s what you bring in the ring with me Tony. I want you to make me work, challenge my ass!”

Tony smiled during the heavy breaths. “Count on it!”

“So,” Alfonzo said as he snatched a towel to dab his face and arms, “the lady excited about coming?”

“She is.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Thanks for extending the invite.”

“We have to take care of our ladies. They bite if we don’t.”

Tony had his towel. A swipe down the face and then it went around his neck as they climbed out of the ring. Alfonzo had a full-size gym and exercise equipment in the basement of his buildings. They were in the New York headquarters an after-work bout before Alfonzo flew back to Puerto Rico. Saturday was only thirty six hours away. Alfonzo often made an appearance during the week to peer at books, sign checks and whatever the else he did from that spacious office suite on the top floor.

The sparring rejuvenated Tony. He smirked as his boss exhibited the shared sentiment by stretching and then with explosive ease did a series of handstand push-ups. Tony grinned, those weren’t easy to do. Arm strength and control. Alfonzo flipped and then stood upright with a brow up to challenge Tony. Tony scoffed, met the dare with a handstand and did one arm push-ups.

“Show-off!” Alfonzo laughed and tossed his towel at Tony.

Impressed. He had to stop at his mom’s crib, hopefully she was packed and didn’t make him wait and then he’d fly home. Tomorrow evening he’d be back in New York, but with his wife who certainly needed a break from the kids. A casino opening sure was the reason, but also doubled as a date. A long overdue quiet time for parents with four rambunctious children.

***

The sound of children at play filtered through the cracked window. A slight irritation to a girl engrossed in a Nancy Drew mystery book. She thought to close the window, but on a hot summer day the breeze pushed the interior heat away. Besides, the fan worked best with fresh oxygen. She smiled down at the pages loving being transported into the story. It took her away from the place of crowded buildings, hopelessness and talks of boys and sex. None of the girls her age talked about love, just the act of sex and how good it made them feel. When their bellies swelled and they complained about being fat, concerns were of missing parties rather than school which made her mad. Well, unprotected sex leads to babies. She knew that since she was nine. No, when she had sex she wanted love and a husband, someone who adored her to pieces and not some weed head from around the way without a job. She didn’t want any part of that world where dreams died disguised as love.

The creaking of the door brought her head out of the book. She smiled at her dad, “Hey dad.”

“Hey munchkin,” he said closing the distance and sitting on the edge of her bed. “Reading, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mama tells me you don’t like going outside anymore. Something happen?”

The girl turned the book over and crossed her legs like an Indian. “No,” she replied. Her mom liked to exaggerate. Since when had preferring to stay in her room with a good book instead of sitting on a hard bench with no friends a crime?

Her father rubbed a hand over his scalp. He’d gone to the barber and got one of those Jordan cuts. She liked his hair and never understood why he always chopped it off when it started to grow. His hair was real straight and black as a tar pit. It even had the glossy shine, too. She’d inherited it, somewhat, but her hair was wild and untamed with her mother’s unruly curls. The girls thought she wore a weave or permed her hair and when she said she didn’t, they said she lied a lot. Yep, the so-called friends running around outside squealing like banshees didn’t like to hear truth. They didn’t like to talk about books or art or anything other than cute boys and clothes. Maybe, something was wrong with her for not caring about what girls her age should.

“You know you can talk to me Sela’, no secrets with us remember?”

“I remember.” And she did. They had made the pact when she was five when a girl in the next building around her age at the time was molested by a next door neighbor. Her parents sat her down for a talk about ‘inappropriate touching’ and made her promise never to keep secrets if any one did something inappropriate. Nothing inappropriate happened in her life, except how utterly lonely she felt because somehow there wasn’t anywhere she fit in.

Her father patted her head affectionately like a dog and her nose wrinkled. He laughed, “Oh, I forgot you hate when I do that.”

“You think?”

“All right…all right I’ll stop.”

“You say that all the time dad.”

He smirked and she grinned in return. Handsome is what her dad was and smart. She decided then she wanted to become a teacher. “You know, we won’t be here long. Another year we’re moving out of here. You and your mom deserve a nice neighborhood. I’m sure you’ll find friends who enjoy the same things you do and you won’t have to stay cooped in your room like this.”

“Hurry up year!” she shrieked in his ear and made his smile broaden.

His eyes were tender. “You’re growing up so fast girl, soon you’ll be in High School and then college and one day some lucky guy will get to call you his wife.” The conversation began to turn sappy when he said, “I love you. I did so many things right when I married your mom and the gift I received was you.”

“Thanks dad, I love you, too,” she answered quickly hoping he’d leave so she can get back to her book. Thankfully, he stood and winked.

The minute he was gone the book was turned over and she began to read. The sounds outdoors became muted. The boisterous happiness had become fearful shrieks which shattered the glass. Shards the size of her novel careened in to her room, dropping into beautiful crystals atop her book. Then the bed folded in half and she was wedged there, screaming and trying to push the mattress to free herself, but those lovely innocent crystals dug into her flesh. The screams and clawing at the covers further bloodied her hands. Panic suffocated her as she pleaded for her dad’s help, instead a deluge of fetuses dropped from the ceiling on to her head and she broke free. Atop a bed of glass she stood and when she peered downward, her eyes widened. She had been disemboweled.

A hand grabbed her, holding her immobile. Softness and love filtered through to her soul. What ease to the pain it brought and she found courage to die and join the others. Unafraid she whispered in the air to the hands without a body, "I'm fine...release me...I'm fine...I swear."

The hand reluctantly released. Somber and eerie was the sound that came in the silence shortly after, an explosion of human grief shook the heavens and lifted the flood gates of hell's despair. The endless screams were for her mother as the blood suddenly ran down her legs. The hand had become a torso upon the bloody fetuses; there in the carnage of life’s vile death lay the head of Alfonzo, missing as well his limbs.

“Goddammit babe, come on…shit…babe wake up…wake up!” Alfonzo exclaimed for the umpteenth time. He had his wife in his arms on the bed, the scratches to his chest bled. Anita was over his shoulder, talking and wailing in Spanish when he couldn’t wake Selange.

Damn woman’s making it worse, Alfonzo thought as he shook Selange until she opened her eyes and he breathed relief.

She put a hand to her stomach and then she stared in his face. He wanted to cry for his woman then, instead he pressed her head to his clawed torso just as she sobbed with ragged breaths. “It’s okay babe, I have you…you’re safe,” he said with his head tilted to the ceiling vowing to stay strong. He told Anita she could return to bed. The loco woman burst in the bedroom when Selange was screaming with a freaking bat.

Anita spun around, marched to the door doing that clucking mess with her tongue while muttering in Spanish, “I thought somebody was getting murdered in here. Aye!”

The door closed and his attention went to his love who slapped at her face to rid the tears. “You all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine…I just had a terrible nightmare.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I’m sorry if I woke up everybody.”