Wrestling the Kraken

Vito

Vito

Vito stood in his backyard. It wasn't large or lush, but he was fervent in maintaining it. Potted plants surrounded the back patio, away from the fence line where he used to keep them, until he found out it was his neighbor stealing his tomatoes and not the racoons. There were several ways he could have handled the situation, but he still got a chuckle out of the way it played out: waiting in the dark by the back door, watching his neighbor creep toward the fence- right as he reached over and his fingers made contact with the tomato, he switched on the floodlights and stepped out cocking his shotgun.

His startled neighbor tried to run, but his hand was stuck. It must have been the super glue slathered all over the ripe tomato. He eventually tore free, taking half the plant with him. A perfectly good tomato was sacrificed in the process, but the look on his face had been worth it. His tomatoes were left alone after that night.

Vito grabbed the hose, giving a glance over at his neighbor's house. Caught peeping, his neighbor closed the curtain to the kitchen window. He laughed.

The side gate swung open and Tony walked over. Vito straightened up and watered the sparse grass.

"You water your grass at night?" Tony asked, coming up beside him.

Vito raised a brow at him. "The grass soaks up the water better at night." They both watched the dirt turn to mud in that trance that comes over a person focused on a task.

Without looking away, Tony announced. "There's a job tonight."

"So soon? Who is this time?" Vito turned the hose to his left, trying to reach an especially dry patch of dirt.

"Ms. Vivanne Cordova." Tony said, rocking on his heels. His voice carried his lack of enthusiasm.

Vito turned to Tony, the hose still in his hands, spraying water over his shoes and pant leg.

"Oh, geez, turn that off will ya'!" Vito barked, tossing the hose aside. Tony went to shut off the water.

Vito placed his hands on his hips, caught in a spiral of thoughts seizing him.

"What are you thinking?" Tony asked.

"Didn't your niece, the nurse at the hospital, say that Mr. Rossini checked in with a stab wound?" Vito asked.

"Yeah. She just let me know that he pulled through. He's not taking any visitors though, so his son took off after waiting all day."

"What are you doing, little girl?" Vito mumbled.

"What did you say? You know I can't hear you when you mumble like that."

"I don't like this." Vito shook his head. "Too messy. It's not like her to be careless."

"What do you want me to do?"

Vito rubbed his face, then turned to Tony. "We're going to move up our plan."

"Are you sure about this?" Tony asked, weary of the plan in the first place. He had spent long nights gathering intel and making friends in the right places and knew all the pieces well enough. What he didn't like was how little he knew about the girl and her employer. Vito had already explained it to him and his plans were normally solid, but it only takes one mistake, one loosed screw to blow the whole thing.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Vito looked up at Tony. "What, you don't think I'm ready?" His own face didn't seem so sure.

"It's not that. You can handle it. That's not an issue, but it's a lot for someone you hardly know. I don't trust her."

"We don't need to trust her. We just need her to play her part."