The Proposition

A deal to answer all his prayers?

A Fallen Angel

‘Every Saint has a past, every sinner has a future.’

Part 1 " Proposition

         It was a typical Friday night, the glitz of uptown Buffalo sparkling like a chandelier through the raindrops skipping down the window panes, in sync with the beats roaring from the tune ups prowling through the roughed up neighbourhood streets. After finishing up his final day shift of the week down at the waterfront in South Park, Joe would seek solitude in his small bedroom, room, more like a room worthy of state penitentiary. Just into his mid-twenties, only small but a strong built specimen, five seven, maybe five eight with his work boots on. Rounded shoulders and an almost constant angered look across his face, he craved company from a woman but stuck in the grip of introversion and blessed with a face like thunder, that company always eluded him and he’d given up the chase. Over the years past, his closest friend became the peace and silence of his room, but it was hardly nirvana. Walls cascaded in cracked paint and ripped posters, holding a striking resemblance to the scarring on his chest. These scars were his self-anointed war wounds but also his hidden secret from the world with the exception of his parents.   

            He’d rest in his room for hours, finally able to drop his guard, away from all the prying eyes in Seattle. The one item of company for Joe was a small ragged bible, falling apart at the seams but priceless to him. Wedged in between the pages was a small business card, blank but printed with an address, date and time. A little phrase ‘A proposition, see you then’ scribbled on the other side, no other clues or hints. This card had Joe’s mind going round in circles like a carrousel, too intrigued to dismiss it but off put by the mystery of the card.

An hour had passed and Joe’s voice could be heard echoing around his room, his deep voice resonating through the surrounding floorboards and walls. Reciting the cherished words in his bible.

               ‘For I do not do the good I want to do. Instead, I keep on doing the evil I do not want to do. And if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.’ He murmured, almost under his own breath, afraid the world may hear him.

               With eyes closed he’d grimace as the words ricochet through his mind, his temper would shorten, knuckles white as he struggled to decipher the meanings of the divine words. He was never destined for a great college, no matter how much he strived for it.

              Suddenly his exacerbation and solitude was shattered, his phone vibrating on the bed side table, like glass being shattered. Joe’s neck jolted to the vibration, like a soldier to attention.

                Cocking his neck back and staring at the ceiling. ‘F**k!’ as he exhaled, releasing the fuse of his shortened temper.

               He gently placed the worn bible in his top drawer, his temper was always at the mercy of his bible, his phone was never afforded that luxury however. He threw his hand at his phone and grasped it firmly to see the message.

             The message read ‘We on for tonight bro? Ty xxxx.’                         

             Joe swiftly lifted the phone to his ear, pacing around his room waiting impatiently for the phone to be answered, taking every last second to deliberate the obscure rendezvous.

             ‘Hey bro, you got my text? What’s the plan for tonight? We heading to this meeting or what?’ Ty said over the bass of his music and revs off his car.

             ‘Yeah…..the meeting is on.’ Joe said with a tremor of trepidation seeping into his voice, holding the business card up in the light, deliberation over. ‘What’s with the kisses at the end? Don’t send me that s**t, you think we’re Romeo and Juliet or something? Save the kisses for the unlucky girls you bag at those house parties in the hood. Kisses were a commodity Joe had all but discarded for this life.

              Ty muffled ‘Sounds good, you want me to swing by your place or meet you at the house?’ lighting a Marlborough, inhaling a long deep drag. ‘I thought the kisses were a nice touch, I can get some real kisses for if you take your mind off business when we hit the parties in the hood. It’s all about the work hard play hard Joe. Should be calling me Casanova.’ He said with a wry smile, topped with a cocky laugh.

             ‘Just meet me round the back in five minutes!’ Joe barked, hurriedly, overcome by a cocktail of stress and anger. As if the last thing he wanted to talk about was female company, the slightest uninvited intrusion on his selfdom would spark his temper. He laced his weathered work boots up, slid his passport and the business card in his back pocket. Taking deep breaths and pacing around his room, Joe gently pulled open his bedside drawer and lifted a rosary bead necklace over his neck and in symmetry his deep breaths begin to lighten, as if the beads bring him a wave of comfort, a ray of warmth broke out from his expression. The momentary comfort retreated as Joe brandished a pair of rusted brass knuckles from the drawer that were no stranger to a brawl, holstered in his front pockets, the thunder was resurrected to his face.

             As the material dichotomy wreaked havoc Joe emerged from his room, grabbing his hooded coat from his bedroom door and marched down the narrow staircase into a gloomy front room illuminated by the glare of the TV being gazed upon by Joe’s father.

            Joe slowly approached his father outstretched on the sofa with a blanket for company, ‘Hey dad, how are you feeling? S**t you’re burning up!’ he said with alarm whilst knelt beside the sofa.

             ‘Son I’m fine, it’s fine, it’s just the meds.’ His father said breathless and harried, gripping Joe’s hand with as much as strength as he could muster.

             A half full glass of water was raised to his father’s lips. ‘Take a sip’ Joe quietly whispered. He stood up and placed the glass on the side table and sniffed, holding back his aguish and tears for pride, especially in front of his father. ‘You got the game on? Who are the Trailblazers up against……… the Raptors’. Joe muttered to himself rhetorically, walking up to the front window, knowing his dad would likely be too weakened from his medication to answer him.

            Peering through the window, Joe set his eyes upon the police cruiser parked up, lurking on the street but sticking out like a sore thumb.

            ‘What are you doing out there mother f****r?’ he raged under his breath to himself.

              What disturbed Joe more was the heavy in the black Mercedes parked further down the road, just eyeballing him. Suddenly the chain lock was rattling against the front door, the door locked fluidly like a bolt action, keeping the police out as much as the heavies on the street.

             Joe backtracked and gently placed his hand on his dad’s shoulder. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow ok, we need to be at the hospital by 11am. Enjoy the game’. He said, hoping for a response from his father, but hoping in vain. Seeing his father so weakened and diminished tore Joe up inside but he’d never allow the tears to surface, his face of thunder always provided a mask to conceal his emotions behind.

              He stepped through to the kitchen to be greeted by his mother, cooking for his father with a lit cigarette in hand, the smoke swirling overhead, dancing with the gusts of the currents from the ceiling fan. There was a presence of tension veiled amongst the smoke, with every second, every pulse the tension grew like oxygen to a flame. All that could be heard was the sizzle of the frying pan and the ticking of the heirloom clock hung on the baron wall of the kitchen. Aside from his job down at the dock, Joe was out every night the last few months, this never sat well with his mother. The close nit bond they once shared had now become a gulf. Joe had almost become immune to feeling forsaken by his mother, it was a price worth paying to keep the truth about his night time movements concealed from her. Finally it was Joe who broke the deadlock of silence, sick of being ignored, she knew he was there but Joe’s rarely stirred his mother’s attention.

                 ‘I’m going out now.’ Joe said, almost hiding the words under his breath knowing they’d fall on deaf ears. Joe didn’t wait around long for a response, all that could be heard was the intermittent pounding of his work boots on the tiled kitchen floor. No sooner had he swung the back door, the rusty spring of the door signalled a response from his mother, a dreaded response as welcome as Satan in Joe’s opinion.

                ‘So……. Are you going to tell me where you’re going tonight? Where you go every night?’ Joe’s mother said bluntly, with no tone or emotion. It was the same questions, every night and every week for last few months, like a broken old record.

                  ‘I keep telling you mum, the less you know the better.’ Joe responded with an exhausted tone, like he’d said that exact sentence over a thousand times.

                  ‘How do you think I’m meant to feel with those words Joe?’ She snapped, storming across the kitchen right up to Joe’s face, close enough to see the pupils in his dark green eyes dilate. ‘Tell me, my only child out on the streets doing God only knows what! What the f**k are you up to Joe?’ She snarled under her breath, wide eyed, almost attempting to make Joe submit the answer yet mindful of her frail husband resting in the other room.

                  Joe returned fire almost instantly. ‘You want to know what I’m doing every night? I’ll f*****g tell you, I’m keeping a roof over our head!’ gesturing to the ceiling. ‘The food you’re cooking right now, is paid for by what I do at night. I’m paying dad’s medical bills, I can give you a whole f*****g list as long as my arm to show you what I’m doing at night.’ Joe roared back, counting on his fingers while he lists his doings. ‘I am working myself into the ground for you and the last thing I need is to come back to this s**t!’ Joe finished with a thunderous face to match his stern raging words.

                 Joe’s appeared to have resonated with his mother. Her fierce mask that was etched across her face when confronting Joe began to crack, her eyes gave it away, the wide ferocity had softened, the smallest of trembles triggered in her bottom lip. Joe finally turned his shoulder and slammed the door behind him leaving a lonely silence for his mother who ushered herself to the kitchen window to catch a last glimpse of Joe leaving the house. She’d always contemplate never seeing him again, so the last glimpse she could take of Joe was almost sacred to her. She could finally allow for her mask to slip with a few small tears rolling down her cheeks.

               ‘Laura…… I need some more water.’ Joe’s farther could be heard in the background, his weakened voice managed to reach his wife’s ears.

              ‘I’m coming honey.’ She said, with a slight crackle in her voice as she wiped the tears away.

 

 

               Under the street lights out in the back streets, Joe’s rounded shoulders were rocking side to side as he hurriedly walked to meet Ty, his face shaded under his coat hood, breathing heavily through his nose like a raging bull looking for a red rag to charge. Joe hadn’t inhabited the streets at night for long, certainly no veteran. He’d been a straight nosed working man since finishing school, however things changed a few months ago. Cancer treatment doesn’t come cheap in the States and a nine-to-five job doesn’t have a chance in hell of covering the costs. Desperate times call for desperate measures and Joe had to leave the confines of his room and took to the streets to find extra dollars, that’s where he crossed paths with Ty. It was clear to Ty that Joe was the perfect muscle his crew was looking for, trying to converse with Joe was as arduous as drawing blood from a stone but it didn’t matter a single bit. All Ty needed was for Joe to do his talking with his fists, whenever Joe’s fists spoke his reputation grew with it. It was this reputation, a mongrel of truth and legend spread around the streets like wild fire. Wherever Joe went, his reputation had already arrived ten minutes before him. Ty’s crew enjoyed a new found easy passage around the streets of Broadway-Fillmore, other gangs wouldn’t touch them or go near them. Minor crews never got an inch when it came to turf or business, but Joe’s reputation allowed them to defy the status quo, living off the scraps while the vulture-esque crews still circled around them. Ty realised how invaluable an asset Joe was so he kept him close and made him an equal partner just to sweeten things.

                Ty was parked just a few blocks away, his Jeep Cherokee sitting in the arc of the street light showing off the scuffed up paint job, let’s say the Jeep had seen better days, nothing and no one on the streets can exist without getting a battle scars as the phrase goes. Ty was reclined back in the driver’s seat, the occasional raindrop tapping at the windscreen and siren howling broke the tranquillity of the car interior. Suddenly chaos erupted with the thud of Joe’s knuckles on the window.

                ‘F**k man!’ Ty berated as he jolted upright in response to the knock on the window, you’d have thought a shotgun went off in Ty’s eardrum by his reaction, watching Joe swing the door open. ‘You trying to smash the window in?’ Ty added with a disbelieving expression etched across his face.

              ‘I barely touched the glass, you need to man up Ty, I can’t have you going soft on me, not tonight.’ Joe said bluntly staring right into Ty’s eyes, the shadow of the car interior could not detract the piercing of Joe’s eyes, glinting from the rays of the street light in the shadow of his hood.

              The Jeep pulled out into the road with a growl of revs from the engine. ‘Dude you know you never have to worry about your boy Ty going soft. I’m more worried about which Joe I’m going to get tonight.’ Ty had always branded Joe as the Dr Jekyll Mr Hyde of Buffalo and he’d never relent from this. ‘I’m going to need Juggernaut Joe tonight.’

               ‘It’s a meeting, we’re not going into a bar brawl.’

                ‘It’s a meeting with someone we have no f*****g idea who, we can’t afford any complacencies tonight.’

                ‘Where the hell did you learn a word like ‘complacencies’ Ty, that’s not a gangster term.’ Joe responded with an intermittent laugh and a slight smile breaking across his face. ‘I know what you’re getting at but we’re not going into a meeting to start a f*****g brawl.’

               ‘I rubbed shoulders with some college girls earlier, maybe that will explain it. That’s where we heading quickly, got a quick easy sale with some sorority sisters, they probably got a hazing party tonight. Meeting them round by Boulevard Mall so it’s on the way to the border.’

              ‘You should’ve studied business or some s**t like that Ty, you’re a born salesman wasted on the streets.’

               ‘Yeah yeah, I’ve heard that a million times before.’ Ty replied with the grin of the Cheshire cat.

                 The Jeep rumbled through the early evening gridlock, it was fair to say the scuffed state of the ride looked far out of place in the bright lights of uptown Buffalo. A few minutes drive North up to the Amherst area and Ty had zeroed in on his latest ‘business acquaintances’, a group of college girls with short skirls and more makeup than a portrait has paint. Ty would see dollars whenever he spotted his clients but Joe would always see the peripheral, and tonight was no different. Like moths to a flame, Joe set his sights on a few young pretty boy punks, lurking around the college girls, easy pickings as far as Joe was concerned. As they pulled up closer to the girls it was obvious these punks weren’t getting the message that they weren’t wanted. You could the occasional high pitched shriek as the punks began to discard any morals and grew in aggression like a wolf pack tearing at a slain carcass. Ty finally pulled the Jeep up to the girls and rolled down Joe’s window.

                 ‘Alright boys, party time is over. There’s a strip joint a couple of blocks over that way, go and try your luck down there.’ Ty jokingly informed the punks and pointing up the road to the strip joint. Unfortunately Ty’s words had little affect but it wasn’t the joking tone that undermined his words but Joe who as soon as the window had dropped, locked eyes onto the biggest punk in the group with his nostrils flared. Funny how a face like thunder can grab people’s attention almost by the scruff of the neck and never surrender it. Joe knew where the situation was going to lead, he would sit in his seat, in the manner of a sniper on over watch, just waiting for the inevitable moment when the trigger has to be pulled, when it’s time for action.

                With a sense of disbelief at Ty’s language, one of the punks finally gave a response. ‘The party isn’t over till we say so.’

               ‘Wow check the attitude boy, you compensating for something?’

               Joe’s glare and thunderous face had shifted to the smaller punk, conversing with Ty. As soon as the eyes made contact you could sense a power shift. The steel strong attitude that possessed the little punk suddenly diminished into a sand castle battling against the crashing waves.

               ‘Are you trying to get beaten up a*****e?’

                 ‘Who me? No no not me, if there’s anyone here who seems to be trying to get a beating, it’s you.’ Ty responded while lighting another Marlborough.

                 ‘Are you for real or have a death wish no one knows about? There’s three of us and only two of you. You got one more chance to leave before you get hurt.’

               ‘Hmmm, by my calculations three against two aren’t odds to be confident about boy, I’m trying to help you out seriously. Three against one and I still wouldn’t bet on you.’ Ty took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly, looking as if he’d had enough of toying with these low level punks. He leant to make eye contact with one of the girls. ‘Don’t worry ladies, we’ll be with you in a few seconds.’ The girls replied only with a puzzled expression overtaking there nervous state, deer in headlights looking around at each other lost.

                 ‘I’m done with these fuckers, I’ll leave this in your capable hands Joe.’ Ty directed at Joe with excitement, giving him a slap on the chest. That was Joe’s moment to pull the trigger, time for action and to exact the necessaries.

                 Joe stepped out of the car casually, slamming the door behind him and then slowly slid his hands into his pockets to fit the brass knuckles over his fingers, unbeknown to the hapless punks. Ignorance is bliss but often a recipe for disaster as Joe was about to demonstrate. Ty remained seated in the Jeep, as if he was at the movies, ‘Round one, here we go it’s show time.’ He chuckled to himself.

                Joe approached the nearest punk he could find and walked up to within an inch of his face where there breath was waltzing together in the atmosphere. ‘Walk away now, I’m not saying it again.’ He said through his gritted teeth.

                 As soon as the punk attempted to open his mouth the neck of his shirt was in the grip of Joe’s brass cladded hands and within the blink of an eye Joe flew into his rage, thrusting his forehead into the nose of the punk like a spear into the ribcage, the flow of blood began as the limp body dropped to the ground. The crimson trickle of blood from his nose was the merely the beginning of the deluge that was to follow. The brass knuckles pounded bone and flesh like it was going out of fashion, the young college girls wisely backed off in fear to behind the Jeep. The brass knuckles had be reined in as the last punk standing had locked his arms around Joe, jumped up onto his back. Joe let a loud gasp, summoning up his strength and driving the punk backwards into the side of the Jeep.

                ‘Hey watch the car!’ Ty shouted.

                 Before Ty could finish his outburst, the punk had been thrown over Joe’s shoulder and his work boot did the rest as the concrete floor played canvas for the blood. Ty finally stepped out of the car to a soundtrack of painful groaning and frightened whimpering, it didn’t faze him one bit when money was to be made.

                 ‘Don’t worry ladies, it’s all part of the service provided, no extra cost for the front row seats to the hottest fight in town.’ Referring to Joe’s escapade with a smile on his face, trying to lighten the mood but the girls were still too frightened to bring a word to their lips. Ty opened up the boot of his Jeep, ’15 grams I believe was the deal beautiful.’ He pulled a brown paper bag out of the car, concealing a package of some sorts. One of the college girls sheepishly approached Ty.

               ‘Don’t worry I don’t bite, take a look, make sure you’re happy with it.’ Ty said with salesman tone in his voice.

                 The young girl opened the paper bag and revealed the package to be 15 grams of marijuana, greener than an Irish shamrock. Her eyes lit up and her hand almost uncontrollably darted into her handbag to retrieve the wad of dollars, now it was the turn of Ty’s eyes to light up.

                ‘Now that’s what I’m talking about.’ Ty said with as his fingers flicked through the numerous dollar notes. ‘It’s been a pleasure doing business with you ladies. Hope you were pleased with the service from your friendly Madhatters’ He said. ‘I hope to see your pretty face again really soon.’ He softly murmured with his best smile veiling the desperate truth behind the final sentence to a particular young college girl, bronzed skin and long dark hair shimmering in the night like a sea of silk flowing over her shoulders and piercing brown eyes which resembled more like a cluster of diamonds, shining beneath the shade of the her brow when the moonlight crept through a break in the clouds.

                   A Madhatter, for those who perhaps fall outside the loop or whose ears fall ignorant to the slang words that fly around the air with the birds, was a word thrown around the streets, to substitute for a ‘drug dealer’, definitely not the people you’d associate with a fairy tale.  

                 The young college girl had caught more than one pair of eyes, perhaps the rarest to be caught and most inconceivable prize of eyes, Joe’s. Love at first sight? Protective instinct? Infatuation? Not even Joe could answer that question but what he couldn’t do was tear his eyes from the side mirror which presented the beautiful girl in all her presence. For the briefest of seconds their eyes briefly met as she stared down the length of the jeep and caught Joe glancing over his shoulder. Funny how a thing such as beauty can snare the stoniest heart, Joe’s peaceful gazing was abruptly ended with a load thud of the boot being slammed by Ty. Finally they could make their way to the border.             

       

Finally after winding through the Buffalo streets, the Jeep stuttered over the Peace Bridge toward the border crossing, Ty ordered Joe to reach behind to the back seat to grab a plastic bag. As he retrieved the bag he found two baseball caps.

                 Looking bewildered, Joe asked a simple question. ‘What are these for?’

                   ‘Maple Leafs versus the Sabres, playing tonight. That’s our cover to get in. I know Canadians have a fetish for ice hockey so they won’t think twice to let us in.’

                 ‘Oh I thought you got the hat cause you know the Sabres are my team.’ Joe replied, sounding serious now that the meeting was edging closer.

                 ‘Oh really, I learnt we had a team in Buffalo so I thought we should look the part you know. I should’ve guessed you were a hockey fan, white man’s game.’

                 ‘Evander Kane, PK Subban.’

                 ‘What?’

                   ‘They’re black hockey players. Two of the best players in the league.’ Joe said while looking up the river through the car window.

                  ‘Yeah, I haven’t heard of them. I’d prefer it if we were going to Toronto to see the Raptors playing the Cavs. See my boy Lebron James do his thing.’

                   Canada welcomed them with the Canadian maple leaf flag waving at them with the aid of the wind whistling in from the waterfront. As the Jeep pulled up, the guard was greeted by two seemingly innocent looking hockey fans. Joe kept his hands firmly in his coat pockets, concealing the bruises that began to form over his knuckles as Ty handed over their passports.

                 ‘What is the purpose of your visit to Canada?’ The guard questioned sternly, always prying for any suspicion in their answers, their looks.

                  ‘We’re just going to watch the Sabres beat the Leafs that all.’ Ty replied, trying to lighten the tension.

                  ‘Oh really, I don’t think that’ going to happen sir.’ He quipped. ‘And how long are you planning on staying in Canada?’

                   ‘We’ll be heading back after the game.’

                   ‘Ok, here are your passports, enjoy the game and have a safe journey.’

                   ‘As long as the Sabres win we will.’

                    As soon as the border crossing was in the rear view mirror a wave of tension spread round the car, both Joe and Ty were visibly on a knife edge. It was like contagion, the creek of the leather on the steering as Ty would nervously grip the wheel was all that broke the perpetual silence in the car. By now after passing Hamilton it would be a blatant deception to deny that second thoughts and doubts had begun to collaborate and play on the minds, every mile fuelled the unshakable doubts haunting them. It wasn’t long before the bright flickering Toronto skyline honed into view like a light at the end of a tunnel.

                     ‘What’s the address Joe?’

                      ’58, The Bridle Path.’ He replied. ‘North York.’ Joe responded whilst staring at the business card left to him.

                     After a few moments of following the signs the Jeep stormed up onto The Bridle Path. All the doubt that had plagued their minds had evaporated with the sight of the royal mansions standing proud, looking down at them. Joe and Ty were a world away from the run down streets of Buffalo now, no potholes to be found, no police sirens, every street light working. It was polarising but excitement flooded through their senses, they were now falling through the rabbit hole directly to mansion number 58 chasing an anonymous goal. They continued to drive further up the road, counting down the house numbers.

                    ‘Check out the cars they have parked outside man, they got Ferraris, Rolls Royces. We’re in the big time now, I’ll be in one of these soon if this meeting is as lucrative as I’m praying it is now.’ Ty cried out gleefully.

                   Ty’s fantasy homecoming was halted by a quick outburst from Joe. ‘Stop the car, stop the damn car!’

                   ‘What the f**k man! We’re moments away from the dream life, why are you holding us up?.’

                   ‘That’s number 58 right there, why’s the gate open?’

                   ‘Cause whoever is in that mansion is expecting us, that’s why it’s open.’

                     ‘Rich people don’t keep their gates open for strangers. First a mysterious business card, now we’re in a wealthy neighbourhood where every house is a double for the White House and you’re sitting there predicting we’re going to be made f*****g millionaires by midnight. Sounds too good to be f*****g true doesn’t it.’ Joe said, trying to make sense of everything but his brain could not decipher quick enough.

                    ‘It’s going to be fine man, just be cool. They wanted us to come here.’ Ty reassured Joe. The Jeep made it’s way through the gates and was greeted by the imposing façade of the number 58. Ty swung the car round the fountain and up to the front door of the mansion. Before they could even get out of the car the front door had opened and a suited gentleman casually made his way outside. As soon as Ty and Joe were out of the car the gentleman invited the pair inside.

                  ‘Please follow me.’

                   Ty and Joe blankly looked at each other, completely perplexed by the civility that had replaced the anxious mystery surrounding the meeting. They walked through the front door with their nerves settled, they could just see the marbled floor and caught a slight glimpse of the fine art hanging from the walls before a forceful metallic kiss touched the back of their heads. Four heavies were lurking behind the doors, armed and no stranger to pulling a trigger.

                   ‘On your knees gentlemen please.’

                     Ty sheepishly dropped to his knees, almost heartbroken that his chance at the big time was no more a gangland hit. The fright of a gun at the back of his head had seemingly left him paralysed and unable to even to plead for his life, he’d resigned to his fate. It came as no surprise that if Joe was going down, he’d go down fighting. It took three of them and a barrage of blows to the ribs to get him face down on the cold marbled floor.

                     ‘Get your f*****g hands off me!’ Joe raged, snarling like an enraged beast on the ground. The suited gentleman remained unmoved despite the brawl in his presence.

                  ‘Are you finished now?’ He bluntly quipped. ‘Pat them down, let’s get things moving.’

                  The vast room remained empty with the exception of hands rummaging over Ty and Joe’s bodies. They were stripped bare of all their belongings which were handed over and whisked away into the labyrinth of rooms. With their faces smeared on the cold marbled floor, Ty and Joe simply looked at each other, no words, their eyes did all the taking. Ty was the picture of panic, his breathing was hurried, stuttered and imprisoned by his nerves. His hot breath was acting like waves on the beach, the condensation would flood over the marble and drift away. Joe’s eyes looked as though the belonged to man resigned to is fate, he was at peace, almost as if the imminent bullet, or knife, whatever was going to finish him was a blessed relief. The sound of footsteps began to return louder and louder, intermitted with a click of the fingers.

                   ‘Gentlemen, if you’d like to follow me.’ 

                    Joe and Ty seemed to be caught in a state of paralysis for a momentary second, before the heavies standing over them pulled them up to their feet like rag dolls, these heavies didn’t know gentle. As soon as they were back to their feet, they were greeted with a complimentary shove in the direction of the staircase leading to the upper floor, all part of the heavy’s service. The pair of them were led up the staircase, trudging step by step. As Joe reached the summit of the stairs he glanced down the long hall way, dark, eerie, the whole place felt abandoned and desolate.

                      ‘Have a seat gentlemen.’ The suited man said whilst pointing towards the tufted red leather chairs situated by the broad desk with the spectre of the empty chair looming large. Ty and Joe slowly moved towards the empty chairs and tried to make themselves as comfortable as their nerves would allow them. The door was slammed shut, nothing could be heard apart from the ticking of the wall clock and staggered breathing. Ty’s eyes were darting around the room while Joe was entranced in prayer, uttering the Lord’s prayer as peacefully as if he was in the parish church. Suddenly the door was opened swiftly, Ty sat bolt upright in harmony Joe’s eyes flew open and brought his prayer to an abrupt end. Joe immediately stood up from his seat to the command of intruding footsteps that approached him, and there he stood to be greeted by the holder of the business card, the owner of the handwriting scribbled over the card, the man who had riddled and puzzled his mind for days on end. A Sinatra like figure, sharp suited, suave, sophisticated, a perfectly groomed moustache and slick hair.

                      ‘You must be Joe, I’ve been looking forward to finally squaring up with ‘Juggernaut Joe.’ He said with the slightest smile breaking through, wide eyed with excitement, as if Joe was a celebrity of some sorts. He offered his hand forward to Joe, fingers adorned with gold rings. ‘I’m Mr King, pleasure to meet you’.

                         ‘Pleasure to meet you to sir.’ Joe replied with a deepened voice, his eyes not blinking but staring directly into the eyes of Mr King. He took his hand and gripped it firmly, a faint crack from Mr King’s hand interjected into the greeting. Joe knew this was his chance to make his mark on Mr King, to mean business, to make sure it was known he was no joke. Yet Joe’s menace and daunt was weakened by the kind, respectful behaviour of Mr King, you could say Joe was being charmed.

                        ‘Now that’s a strong handshake.’ Mr King chuckled. ‘I know I picked the right one. I’m glad to know my judgement is still as reliable as ever’.

                         Mr King’s eyes turned to his peripheral and he sneered down at Ty, almost as if his presence was a thorn in his side. He slowly strolled round the desk to his seat, pulling a cigar and lighter from his pocket, he switched his desk light on which presented the belongings that were stripped from Joe and Ty’s bodies, laid neatly across the desk like a body on the slab.

                       ‘Brass knuckles, old fashioned, I like old fashioned. I don’t need to be a genius to make an educated guess as to who these belong to, they look like they’ve seen some action already this evening’. Mr King said while examining the brass knuckles and smiling at Joe. ‘Joe take a seat please.’

                      Mr King slid down into his chair, lighting his cigar and filling the room with the smog of cigar smoke. He reclined, staring questionably at Ty, with displeasure.

                         ‘I’m guessing you weren’t taught any manners in the hood.’ He said while gesturing quotation marks. ‘Usually you stand when meeting someone, ok? Memorise that, might do you some good in the future.’

                         Now it was Ty who had the face of thunder, yet he was able to control the simmering anger beneath his skin.          

                      ‘Now that I got that off my chest we can proceed. So, you’re probably dying to know why I invited you here. Well gentlemen, I can assure you that your travels will not be in vain at all, I know I’m biased but you’ve made a very good decision tonight. You’ve opened the door to a new world, you’re on the rainbow and I can get you to that pot of gold, if you choose to let me’. He said while lifting his hands up of the desks and looking up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere where his wealth was on display. Ty’s expression turned from thunder to lust as he observed the treasures that were abundant around the room.

                        ‘Why were you summoned? Anyone fancy hazarding a guess? Take a stab in the dark? Mr King sat patiently for a few seconds which seemed to last an age. Joe and Ty simply sat there waiting for the answer to be given.

                       ‘It’s ok, there were no prizes for guessing. If there is one thing you should remember about me, it’s that I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. If I take an interest in someone, they can’t even piss in a toilet without me knowing. I know peoples moves, their routines, you name it, I’ll know it. Like I know that amongst all the big Madhatters in Buffalo, your little firm, business, whatever you want to call it, somehow it stays in business. You’re defying a major pillar of economics.’ He complimented with amazement.

                      It was safe to say that Mr King’s audience remained silent. Flattering wasn’t working on Joe and it wasn’t working wonders on Ty as well.

                      ‘It can be seen every day, when a big corporation finds a new market, it consumes the smaller competition, steals the supply and obtains the monopoly over the demand. So how is it that you are able to defy all the big gangs and survive? That’s the million dollar question and my eyes and ears on the ground have found me the answer, I’ve hit the jackpot and I’m looking at it’. He beamed, pointing right at Joe with an excited smile. He slowly reclined back into his chair thumping the desk and clapping his hands.

                        ‘Jackpot Joe! Oh and you as well.’ He scoffed to Ty, who was becoming growingly disinterested at the whole turn of events. Joe appeared to more fixated by his brass knuckles laying on the desk than the flattery being afforded to him.

                       ‘Why did you ask us to come here?’ Ty sighed.  He was feeling the dream life might not all be what it is cracked up to be, the mansions, fast cars were slipping away with every word that flew across the desk.

                      ‘So you can talk then?’ Mr King quipped. ‘It’s very rude to interrupt me when I’m in my stride and many people can testify that you don’t want to be rude to me.’

                     Mr King slowly pulled open his top desk drawer, this accelerated Ty’s tension as he sat bolt upright. He knew a gun was resting, loaded and cocked, all that was needed was a finger to pull the trigger and he was history.

                    ‘The reason why I asked for you to meet me here is this.’ He confided as he revealed the contents of his desk drawer and pulled up a transparent small bag and gently placed it onto the desk. ‘Now gentlemen, I don’t need to ask you whether you know what that is, it’s your commodity, your currency. Weed, marijuana, Mary Jane, whatever the younger generation calls it. This green herb, is making all the fat cats, pharmaceuticals, politicians running scared. Why? Because this can supposedly cure cancer amongst many other things. Why cure an illness when you can rape people wallets for treatment? This little baby is now even more sought after than ever before, it’s not just a hippy’s weekend friend or a rappers spliff now, it’s a medical marvel. We’re talking a potential multimillion dollar market here, and it’s expanding right before our eyes. Obliviousness is our gift right now, people aren’t seeing this money machine, all they want is the high, to feel rebellious that they get to have a puff in open public and the police can’t touch them for it. It started in Colorado and more dominoes are tumbling, the more and more states that legalise this the tougher the market will be. Before we know it we’ll be swimming with sharks in a fish tank, these moguls will take it over in an instant.’

                        You could tell all this talk of money had Ty completely hooked, every word that rolled off of Mr King’s tongue just reeled him in deeper into his dreams of the high life. It was all music to his ears as his smile smeared wider across his face, almost licking his lips with excitement.

                     ‘Trump and his cronies have got to find some more money to pay for that wall somehow. A new market means new taxes, financial levies. The longer this lurks in the black market the better for us otherwise you can kiss that Rolls Royce and mansion goodbye, mark my words.’ He stated bluntly, wiping the smile flush from Ty’s face.   

                   ‘Why are you telling us this Sir?’ Joe interjected, abruptly halting Mr King in his stride.

                    ‘You’ve already learnt this evening that interrupting me is something not advised, but since you called me Sir I’ll proceed.’ There was certainly a veiled whisper of fear in Mr King’s voice, he wasn’t keen on being the next victim of Joe’s bruised knuckles. ‘You’re here because I want to take over this market, grab it by the horns, ride it like a bronco and take it for all it’s worth. I want you in this deal because I can’t peddle the drugs around. You’re the dealers, you’ve got the contacts, the reputation. I’ve got the capital to buy up the supply around the Toronto area and beyond, I’ve got so many border officials, police, judiciaries in my pocket that the border is laying wide open for us with a red carpet. That’s when you come into the deal, the drugs roll through the border directly into your hands and you meet the demand. You’ll get more weed to sell and make more money than you can count….. even after I take my cut of the profits.’

                          Stone faced and weary from the relentless conversation, the details of Mr King’s proposition finally revealed cut little ice with Joe, it sounded like another get rich quick scheme almost too good to be true. Yet every word of the proposition was Ty’s wet dream, dollar signs fluttering in his eyes like a Vegas slot machine.

 ‘So your deal is for us to do your dirty work while you get richer?’ 

                         ‘Hmm, I was expecting a bit more gratitude considering how generous my proposition is, especially when you take into account your situation Joe.’ He coldly replied directly to Joe, their eyes were duelling through the glare of the desk lamp caught in the crossfire.

                      The final words tripped upon Joe’s frayed temper and drew him forward in his seat with his dark green eyes peering through the haze of light protruding from the lamp like a lion peering through the bushvelt stalking the next kill. The glaring eyes were confronted with an insidious smirk resolutely displayed across Mr King’s aged face. ‘You know nothing, no detail about me or any situation I may be in, except my name.’

                     ‘Don’t play the fool Joe, I’d already cast your little friend in that role. No offence young man.’ Mr King quipped towards Ty. Clinical humour had fled from the conversation and gave way to a claustrophobic tension engulfing the room, embodied by the crawling demonesque darkness stalking the parties, personified by the shrieking of the leather seats triggered by the slightest motion. The crescendo of tension ran riot through the air, the senses were numb, overrun by adrenaline and a racing pulse pounding like canon fire in their ear drums. The silence was pierced by Mr King, every word sprung had the potential for carnage equal to a naked flame tantalising a keg of gun powder.

              ‘I’ve told you I have eyes and ears everywhere Joe. I never go into business with someone without knowing every detail and intricacy of that person. I’m the casino, the card dealer and I know the hand you’ve been dealt.’ A sinister smirk emerged, concealed amidst the shadows casted over Mr King reclined in his chair, as he leant forward into Joe’s presence the light of the lamp exposed the smirk in all it’s glory with a devilish yet playful scowl in the eyes for an encore.

              ‘How’s your father doing Joe?’

               Immediately within an instant the room erupted in a cacophony of impending violence. Joe pounced from his chair, followed son after by Ty, Mr King’s invasive knowledge had set the naked flame onto the gunpowder in Joe’s mind. His hands thumped the desk but Mr King suddenly grabbed his treasured brass knuckles away out of reach in unison with Ty restraining Joe from pursuing. Mr King beamed a playful smile. ‘Too slow ha ha!’ He yelled out, standing up from his chair, strutting away in delightful victory, the old man was still one step ahead of the young guns. The victory parade was crashed just as the doors were crashed open with the subtleness of a detonated grenade by a handful of suited heavies. The light from the hallway stormed into the room, rampant like mustangs, charging into the dark corners of the room, blinding Ty and Joe, trapping them as if they were deer in a set of headlights, raising their hands to their squinting eyes, aimlessly trying to peer through their fingers, scoping the silhouetted figures in the doorway only to be greeted by the cold, callous response one can imagine from a loaded pistol staring back, unflinching with the light skimming over the metallic skin as if it were rays of sun dancing over the ocean waves.

                   ‘Don’t shoot, there’s no trouble here I swear. Just don’t shoot.’ Ty shouted out into the light towards the silhouettes, authority had receded in his tone of voice to a plea for mercy.

                     Ty’s plea was answered almost instantly with the brief interjection of silence amidst the explosion of noise that preceded being broken by Mr King, calm and collected, knowing he was playing God in the room with Joe and Ty’s life in his hands. ‘Ok alright alright, false alarm! Put them down boys, play nice for our guests. Close the door behind you on the way out.’ He calmly stated as if he was immune to a rush of adrenaline in the midst of volatility, waving the heavies away with the flick of his hand accompanied with a relaxed stroll back to his chair, leaving the shadows of the room for the warm glow of the light glaring from the door way.

                     Mr King took his seat and played close attention to the door being closed. ‘I owe you an apology Joe. Both of you take a seat, let’s pretend those last few seconds were a dream of some sort.’ He quietly said, knowing the risk of losing face had vanished like the former protruding light repelled by the closed office doors. As I’ve stated beforehand, I have eyes and ears everywhere, I’m always in prone position to ambush, I hunt and am never hunted, I know things more safeguarded than a steel vault. It’s a simple equation really, knowledge is leverage, leverage is a powerful thing. Every aspect of life, take your pick which, community, business, politics to name a few obvious examples, leverage is used to get your own way and it’s use is infinite. You can have the most almighty of moguls in the palm of your hands.’ He gleefully lectured to Joe and Ty, speaking from experience, that sly broke out again as he appeared to reminisce. ‘Apologies for my rambling on, I didn’t mean to offend you Joe. Chemotherapy can be as much a foe as it is a saviour. There’s a lot of money to be made from this deal, money that can get your dad the best care, the best medication on the market. All you have to do is shake my hand and hold up your end of the deal and life gets a whole lot easier.’

                      Joe remained unmoved, a face of granite but a mind rampant with thoughts of his stricken father. An air of unease gathered pace around the desk, eyes down looking at the carpet with anxious sighs. Ty seemed eager to just leave the room with his life.

                      ‘I’ll give you a couple of days to think things over, I can’t see why you’d need to deliberate as good as this but that’s me. Take your things and enjoy the rest of your night.’ Mr King gestured towards the belongings stripped from Joe and Ty’s bodies. ‘Joe I’d like a word with you in private.’

                     Joe exchanged glances with Ty, nodding to the direction of the door, letting Ty scamper away while slipping his gun into the back of his waist band. Joe resumed calmly collecting his belongings as Mr King walked around his broad desk, waiting patiently for Joe.

                   ‘What did you want me for?’ Said Joe, in no mood to waste any more time.

                    ‘Why the hell did you bring him with you?’ Mr King quietly raged, filled with aggression but undermined by apprehension at Joe’s reaction to anything he disliked in the slightest. Joe’s reputation had won him leverage in this moment over Mr King.

                    ‘He’s my business partner. I can hardly make a business decision without my partner’s involvement. You’re a businessman, you should know that.’ Joe quipped full of confidence.

                   ‘I want a partner who works for a just reason, not a partner who works for a playboy rapper lifestyle. I know I can trust you to do a good job and keep your half of the deal, you might not know it but your father’s life hangs on this deal being a success, otherwise you’re stuck at square one, in the same situation with your father’s life in limbo. You keep him on a short leash or you’ll be the one who’ll have to get rid of him.’ Mr King barked.

                    ‘Ok, is that all.’ Joe responded bluntly.

                       ‘Before you go, one last thing.’ Mr King pulled open is top drawer and pulled an envelope out and handed it to Joe with his brass knuckles. ‘You didn’t think you’d come to Canada and not watch a game of hockey did you? You’ll hear from me in due time Joe.’

                      Joe just walked out of the office, as simple as that, no words, just heavy footsteps to say his good bye for him.