The Manipulators

Chapter 2 - Avery's P.o.V

"Not again", I mumbled. I'm awoken by the sound of gunshots, and not real gunshots; it's my neighbor. He claims to be a 'gamer' and proud of it. If you ask me he's just a jobless youth like every other in this apartment building. God alone knows how he's living, but then again, he isn't living much of a life. He rarely leaves 'the comfort' of his third floor corner apartment; apartment number 24. I keep begging him to either turn down the volume or for us to try working out some kind of schedule for his 'missions', but no luck.

Last Christmas I even bought him a Bluetooth headset coupled with a mic and Keypad. And do you know what that cretin said? "Nah man, headsets ruin the MW3 experience, but thanks anyway I'll sell it on Amazon". That's what you get for being nosey, $375.00 down the drain.

Rolling over I reach for my wrist watch from the night stand 3:57 am, Mon 28 May 2015 two hours before my alarm actually goes off. It's best I get cracking, I sighed rolling out of bed. Last night I got in at 10:50 pm and by the time I'd taken a bath, had a piece of Alex's famous macaroni pie, and checked in with Alex, it was 12:15 am when I finally got settled in bed.

This took so long because Alex gave me a ball by ball report of her day, prattling on animatedly about her college friends, assignments, and the dreaded topic; Randy. Randy was a little thug in our apartment building who identified with the local gang S.A.P.S. I have no idea what it stood for and quite frankly I didn't care. What I did care about was his sudden interest in my daughter which started about three months ago.

At about 3:30 one evening I was at my construction job two blocks away, when I got a call from the neighbor in apt 22, frantic about Randy banging on my door (apt 23). I rushed home to find Randy and two of his cronies standing outside my locked apartment door beckoning Alex to open the door.

"What's up Randy?" I called. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked cautiously. "Yeah! You can open this door the fuck up!", demanded wing man #1. "Shut up Cage! I don't need your help", growled Randy. "Hey Mr. Avery I was just trying to talk to Alex, but she slammed the door in my face", he explained somewhat nervously. I studied him closely, he still seemed like the same old Randy for a moment, but with some major physical changes.

Randy was a good kid, very polite, showed respect for his elders and authority, and he saw the importance of education, at one point in time. This changed when his older brother, an honor student at USC (University of the Southern Caribbean)  was shot and killed by a rival gang; a case of mistaken identity.

"Well Randy I think you probably scared the crap out of her, since you needed two 'hype-men' just to 'talk' to her", I chided, "Think about it". "Who the fuck is this old man? You annoying me man, mind your business", retorted wing man #1 once again, he had a big mouth. Sigh, there's always, and when I say always you better believe it's true, that one guy capable of making shit get out of control with his ignorance. I ignored him once again, "So, I think that this attempt to 'talk' is already a failure, you should turn back for today", I suggested, pressing my lips into a thin line.

"What do you say Randy?" I questioned. "I understand Mr. Avery, I'll come again some other time", he stated as he walked away. Wing man #2 never said a word, I can't say that he was better than wingman #1, he never greeted me, nor was his demeanor friendly looking. He just stood there observing my every move, his eyes literally never moved off me. "Alright then Randy see you around, and stay out of trouble lil man", I called. I use to call him 'lil man' when his brother was alive, but it's been so long, and so many things have changed in the short three years. We're not as close as we use to be, but it's not that we have 'beef' but rather it was just life's changes.

So at 3:57 A.M. I'm up and about like a busy housewife, I did the laundry, washed the few dishes left over from last night, cleaned and organized our refrigerator, swept and mopped the living room, and I made breakfast. That's the only way to get through this thing peacefully, 'cause getting mad surely never helped in any situation. BOOM! BOOM! RAAT-TAT-TA-TAT! It's been this way for the past hour; that boy has no conscience.

This constant noise, I couldn't remember the last time there was a semblance of silence at home, or the last time I heard the sound of this city coming to life. The busy city sound's quietly and soothingly floating through my apartment windows like the smell of sweet perfume; I love it so much. It keeps me calm.

This city holds so many memories both good and bad. So many memories of my beloved wife Alexia. She loved this city more than I did, and I loved it because she loved it so much, she was born in Port of Spain; it was her home. Even though she didn't have much, living in this slightly better than the planning's apartment buildings, raised by a single mother; she was so cheerful and unlike any other person I'd ever met.

At 5 am all I could do is sit helplessly and allow this dreadful noise to invade the halls of my mind; violating and obstructing any train of thought in its path. There's nothing left to do and no one to talk to; Alex is asleep, she is a beast to sleep so soundly in this war zone. I hated times like these; I couldn't help but miss what I've lost, and what I've given up.

There's no denying it, I am lonely. But with so much deception in these times, and Alex being my number one priority; it's difficult to even think about dating. And the concept of friendship no longer exists; people change faster than the weather. It's just too much of a risk to take, and I just don't have the energy to deal with the drama.

"Morning daddy, why so early?", Alex's voice snapped me back to reality. "I could say the same for you. I didn't hear your alarm go off yet", I checked my watch it's 5:30 A.M. "I don't set my alarm anymore, I just rise with the sound of the grenades", she yawned.

Leave it to Alex to make light of the situation. "Glad to see at least one of us is getting something out of all this fracking noise", I sigh as I scrub my hands through my hair. "Whoa dad, you're getting a little 'colourful' with the language", she smirked. Ugh, give it a rest Alex you sarcastic little dweeb. She's been laughing at my lack of curse word usage, for how long? About five years now? Claiming that it's amusing someone my age refuses to use curse words. It leaves me wondering who on earth she's spending her time with when I'm at work.

BOOM! BOO-BOO-BOOM! I flinch so hard I knock my coffee cup off the counter into the kitchen sink. I sighed, I really can't take this anymore, imma have to report him to the building manager. I really hate doing that; I don't wanna get anyone kicked out. "Relax dad, you can zone this out", Alex cuts in. "This is just a phase, he'll get fed up of it and move on, who knows maybe next time he'll take up drumming", she sniggers. I couldn't help but laugh, from the frying pan into the fire.