Falling

Three (Boss Man)

The door swats the air behind Trip's back, not allowing the noise of the street to invade the business at the bar. He gives a nod to the bar man while sauntering into the shadows that hover around an unassuming wooden slab. A matte door nob gives a hint as to what might be stationed behind.

Trip knows all to well what be behind that door, wait-tin for his report. Boss Man. Boss Man is a player who's only reason for live-in is to unscramble the secrets that will be give-vin 'im power over the neighborhoods.

The door opens way too easily for Trip's like-kin. An', well...the leather chair be far to comfortable for the report-tin Trip's goin' to have to be throw-win onto Boss Man's desk.

Boss Man leans forward into the space between their faces, eyes pry'n at Trip's brain thoughts. "What be your report?"

The vein on his clean-shaved head pulses, bulging into the empty eye holes glaring from the skull tattoo inked onto his neck. His dark brown face gathers up into washboard wrinkles that cross his forehead and slither down either side of his large nose, banging into the corners of his lips, parting like opening curtains and showing off white pearly teeth.

Boss Man's gangsta moment sends a shiver through Trip's gulping brain. "There be some trouble." The words come tumble-lin out, trying to escape a pound'n heart.

Boss Man's muscled body leans back. The oak-wood chair groans behind the shifting weight.

"Yeah."

"Well...ya see...their was this other guy mouse-in round the neighborhood. He's...like one of those Perle gang scouts. So, I asks him what his business was. He get's all hot and bothered...pulls a knife on me."

Boss Man looks away. He blows an angry sigh toward the opposite wall.

"And!"

The echo of rocks bounce-in off a cliff attacks Trip's ears. "I pulls my knife...an' we kind a start move-in round. Then, some people be circle-in around us."

"Cut him...Make 'em bleed!" Someone yells.

"Did you?" His eyes be focus-in on mine, claw-in for an answer.

"Then...There's this other guy...white guy...comes out a nowhere. His eyes...It's like they shoot-in someth-in...light bombs. I can't see...it steps me back! An', the Perle scout...he be step-in back. Then, he asks us who wants to die first. Then, the white guy be want-in us to stop an' talk...I had to turn away. I ran." Water leaks from the corners of his eyes.

Boss Man's legs push his six foot frame up. He moves around his desk with one silent motion. Trip's t-shirt gathers into a wrinkled knot where Boss Man's fist takes purchase and drags Trip's tear stained face nose to nose.

"You ain't tell'n me a story...are ya?"

"No I swear on my mother's heart...It be the truth!" The words squeeze between his quivering lips.

The lines shift on Boss Man's face. He lets go of Trip's shirt and pushes him back into hugging leather. Boss Man backs up and leans his butt against the edge of the dark wood desktop.

"Lyla!"

Another door swings open and a tall, slinky woman slips into the room. Long black hair cascades onto dark brown shoulders rising above the sleeves of a white blouse that are pulled half way down the sides of her arms. Her full lips carry the slightest hint of red lip stick.

"How can I help you?" The words slip out like silk cloth catching a wisp of cool air.

Boss Man's eyes stay fixed on Trip's face.

"Seems like Trip be have'n a story I'd like you to be check'n out," accusing words slip out of snickering lips.

"Sure." Her voice oozes like warm honey. "Where will this little sight seeing trip be taking me?" Her eyes switch from Boss Man's face to Trip's.

"There's that soup kitchen...What's it called?" Wrinkles gather on Boss Man's forehead.

"Grace's Kitchen," Trip interjects, try-in to make up for his screwup.

"It's not the best place for shopping after the earthquake's venture down there," Lyla offers. "But there are one or two interesting shops still standing. Trip can escort me."

Her dark green eyes invite a yes from Boss Man.

Boss Man pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket and hands them to Lyla. His eyes meet her's with a smile. "Just check this guy out."

"And, exactly which parts of him do you want me to check out?" The words slip out of a sly do-you-know-what-you're-saying smile.

A thought grabs at the corners of Trip's mouth, driving them into a crooked smile. "His eyes. Trip says. They be shoot-in light bombs."

Boss Man turns and slips back into the chair waiting behind his desk, throwing a boogey man laugh out to no one.

He slides the top drawer out of his desk far enough to be reach-in inside and pulls out a small gun that can be hide-in in ya hand.

"Take this," he says while handing the gun to Lyla. "Just in case one of those Perle guys be still hangin' round."

Trip's eyes is gather-in all the clues. His brain is start-tin to work on pictures, pictures of Perle gangbangers hanging round in dark corners.