Falling

Eleven (The Catch)

The little white cab moves down the street, turning a corner here and there, taking them passed unattended rubble to a more genteel part of town. The earthquake rubble had been largely swept away and workmen engaged in the intention for rebuilding, payed for by the business class.

The back seat is small and comfy, gathering bodies together and mixing with fingers intertwined. Sam welcomes the heat crossing between inner spaces. Not, because it was a warm night. But, something else born out of unspoken desires.

"Where are you taking me for dinner?" Sam asks, feeling relaxed and trusting.

"My big brother's place," she replies, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible.

"He must be doing well. This part of town is being put back together rather quickly."

She watches Sam's eyes for any hint of suspicion.

"Well...He's a good businessman." She drops the thought into the cab's breaking halt to their ride.

"We've arrived!"

"And the cab fare?"

Sam shoves his hand into a front pocket angling for some cash.

"Don't worry, my brother's man will take care of it."

Lyla feels a welcomed comfort walking down the narrow room, the grand oak bar standing firm to her left. The bar man busily pouring an assortment of colorful liquids into clinking glasses.

She nods to a couple of regulars who are engaged in an animated conversation over short glasses of whisky and steaming cigars.

She feels Sam's warm fingers teasingly intertwined with hers and warm wisps of breath brushing the back of her neck.

"Here."

She pulls him close to her back, her face dances with the feel of his heat against her body. They slide onto the cool leather bench waiting on one side of a corner booth.

She releases his fingers and gathers the warmth fuming in his shoulders with her right arm, lips meet for a brief gathering of satin and luminescence.

There faces retreat, painting lips with twining smiles.

"Do you like fish and chips?" Lyla asks, while looking for a hint of light in Sam's eyes. That light that Boss Man wishes to capture.

"Yes indeed and a coke to wash it down!"

Sam's enthusiastic tone signals that she has everything under control.

She fishes around in her small purse, hanging conveniently at her side. She taps some familiar numbers on the i-phone's mirrored face and then snuggles it close to her ear and orders.

Boss Man slides into the bench opposite Sam and Lyla. The color taking command of Sam's face explodes into one flashing word.

"You?"

Boss Man raises his right hand like a surrender flag. "I know whats ya think'n," he says, trying to use his baritone voice to pacify Sam's rising anger.

Lyla lays a warm hand on Sam's forearm. "It's okay, relax," her eyes dancing behind the gathering sunset glow spreading across her face.

Sam leans back.

A confrontation wouldn't resolve the mingling of emotion and memory. He observes the tension drop from the big man's face.

"Let's say it was...a...kind of an interview...what happened on the street. I wanted to see your gift for myself. And, nothin' was hurt." Boss Man let the words carry a peace offering like a warm handshake.

Three baskets appear on a round tray arriving on the tattooed arm of the bar man. He gracefully slides them onto the table, followed by three tall glasses of brown liquid being cuddled by several transparent ice cubes.

"Eat up before it gets cold," Boss Man commands, unveiling a more forceful tone.

The growling monster in Sam's stomach switches his brain into eating mode. There doesn't seem to be any sign of immanent danger. So, I'll just let this guy say whatever's on his mind and see how everything shakes out.

"I have an offer for ya," Boss Man starts, laying a half eaten fish slab in the basket. His eyes aggressively search Sams'.

Lyla's big brother leans back causing the leather bench back to reply with a crinkling sound.

"And what would that be?" Sam replies, his brain fumbling with a handful of mixed emotions.

"First off. Did Lyla tell ya I'm donating a new oven to your little food oasis down in lower town?"

"Yes." I look up from the tasty fish slab, cuddled between my fingers.

Boss Man leans forward, his head taking command of the space listing between our faces. His left hand slaps the table, quickly lifting it to reveal a plastic card.

"This here is a debit card. I'll be send'n a thousand dollars into this account as a down payment for ya services. An', a generous followup each month you be work'n for me."

A grin slips across his face that could drive a rift through bricks. His eyes grabbing, waiting.

"Services?" My mind is really tripping into confusion land now.

"Yeah, peacemaking services...using yous...shall we say...ability."

I toss the last piece of fish back into its little boat box.

"Peacemaking...my ability?"

Lyla's hand takes a strong grip on my arm. "Just think what that money could mean for all the people who depend on the Kitchen for food."

Her eyes are trying to quiet any warnings that might be circling around in my brain.

"I tell ya what. Let's just take a little drive sos ya can get a handle on what I be talking about," Boss Man orders.

He takes a quick look at the oversized watch wrapped around his smooth black wrist.

"Can we make it a threesome?" I ask.

Lyla's eyes flash a yes signal into mine. If Lyla comes along he's surely not going to put us in a dangerous situation.