Falling

Four (Introduction)

Half a face peeks around from behind her skirt, like the moon appearing from behind a tree. One ebony eye, a little light in one corner searching me and looking for a clue in my face. His mother holds out her dusty plastic bag, opening its mouth for a loaf of bread.

I push my hand into a front pocket of my jeans. My fingers fish around for a familiar plastic packet.

My hand holds it out in his direction, open and inviting. "Do you like gummy bears?" I ask, a warm smile crossing my face and pushing my cheeks into little hills on either side.

A mischievous grin creases his lips. A skinny arm reaches toward my hand.

"Take it!" I offer.

The little gummy package leaves my hand in an instant. Glinting eyes dance above a hint of a smile. He looks at the packet now firmly owned by his fingers closing around it.

Mom's hand reaches down and pushes his little body out from behind her legs. "Say thank you!" Her voice is sharp.

"Thanks mister." And he disappears behind her body again.

I take a quick peek around the other side.

He giggles and pushes his face into the back of her legs.

"Sam! Earth to Sam!"

Marry's thick voice jerks me away from my little game. I stand up, facing the two of them.

"This be Lyla. She's goin' to volunteer with us a couple a days a week," Mary announces.

Mary's in charge of this kitchen and her take-no-prisoners bearing demands my respect.

"Lyla."

I reach out to her hand for a friendly greeting. Her pleasing appearance causes my brain to engage in a double take.

"Happy to meet you, Sam," she replies. Her smile lights up her brown face with a soft glow, framed by clouds of curly black hair.

Her eyes...carrying little, half moon slices of light on ebony...They draw me into her charm.

"Yeah...Me too."

This is ridiculous. Get serious, brain! Am I staring?

"Sam!" Mary insists.

"Yes. How can I help you?" I force my eyes away from the pretty brown face called Lyla and let go of her warm hand, giving what's left of my attention to Mary.

"I wants you to be show'n Lyla around an' how she can be spend-din time with us," Mary explains.

"Sure," the word catches in my throat and struggles to find a way out of my mouth.

My brain is still admiring the pretty picture standing in the space next to me. A hint of a violet fragrance introduces her body.

"Well...Let's start over here. This is the bakery department and Esperanza...She's our baker."

The sweet aroma of baking dough hangs in the air. A dozen round loaves are stacked on a rough wooden cart. The whir of a single large mixer labors in the background.

"I know someone who'd be happy to donate another oven. Then, you could double your production." This would give Boss Man some cred in the neighborhood. It'd make it easier for him to move in here and take advantage of peoples' need to rebuild what the earthquake has torn down. It could give him a real advantage over the Perles.

"Really!" Sam's eyes light up.

Her black hair cascades down and rests on her welcoming shoulders and frames a brown face that shares its color with the gloss of a sunset's beckoning glow.

"The earthquake hasn't been able to trash his business. So...Let's say...He's doing ok. He'd be happy to help," Lyla adds. And get the upper hand over the other gangs on the Island. But, there's no need to clutter Sam's brain with Boss Man's business.

"We depend on the good graces of people to make this kitchen run." I interject. Maybe she is an angel in disguise.

Suddenly a shriek displaces Sam's happy thoughts with a signal that something is going wrong outside the Kitchen.

A quick scattering of shoe-pounding steps puts him in front of two laddies standing nose to nose in an iron-willed stare down.

"What seems to be the problem here, ladies?"

"There ain't no seems about it! She be crowd-din in line. Just steps herself right in front a me as if she be own-nin the place!" Her words slam into the air waiting between us. Her eyes remain fixed on the other woman's returning glare.

"Look at me, mam!" I order

Her eyes do a quick glance at my face. Just enough for my eyes to lock onto her's. I shoot a solitary string of light into her line of vision.

Her face goes limp like starch leaving a wet shirt.

"Ok...I guess there's no cause to get all worked up," she says.

I place my right hand on the other woman's shoulder causing her to lay her stare on me. I share the light with her.

"Yeah...  We can work this out. No need to be get-tin all hot an' bothered," she says. Her wide eyes contract.

" We'll fill both your bags the same," I assure them.

I turn to walk away and almost bump into Lyla.

"Excuse me," words that draw a pink smile across her face.

"How'd you do that?" The white half moons swim across ebony.

"Do what?" I ask.

"You knocked the anger right out of them, Sam!"

Lyla tries to hide the amazement that the whole scene left her brain to consider. Trip was right. This guy has something going on that's very special. Can Boss Man be trusted with whatever Sam has?

"Well... I just have a way of managing trouble," I reply.

Managing trouble. That's something Boss Man could use some help with. "Have you thought about giving a hand with some of the...shall we say...confusion that's got a hold on this island?" She asks.

"Yeah. I've heard rumblings about some power struggles. But Mary doesn't want me to get involved. She doesn't want the Kitchen to get into the middle of the gang struggles. It could ruin everything we've worked so hard to get started here," I explain.

Her eyes drop and she turns as if trying to leave her words behind.

"We can leave that mess for another day. What would you like me to do?" Lyla says, turning the beaming smile in her eyes onto mine.

"You could pass out the bread," I suggest.

She turns on a breath and heads over to the baking area.

A string of thoughts demand my conscious attention. She's leaving me with more than an impression. I want her to come back. That's for sure. Yet, there's a question that doesn't want to leave my mind. What's on your agenda, Lyla?

The question gets lost behind the hours which accumulate in the business of serving the line of worried faces, foraging for the food they'll put on whatever serves as a table—feeding their families.

The day closes with me watching Lyla walk to the corner and hail a taxi. The taxi moves slowly down the street and then abruptly stops. A young man appears out of one of the few storefronts that still finds a reason to do business. He waves at the taxi and then jumps into the passenger side.

I've seen that kid before. 

Yeah, the fight.

His name is Trip. Why did the taxi stop for him? Does he know Lyla? Where is this going?