Secrets in the snow

Cold Water

                   

Allyn shuffled around the table picking up the remains of someone's dinner and placing it into the wash box. So far this was the longest job he had been able to keep. Every other manager had sent him packing; usually because they found out what his father did for a living.

In Italy world travels fast, especially if your new. From the corner of the room loud whispers rose behind the huddled backs of the old ladies' club that gathered every evening. The small women frantically nodded their heads and moved their hands, glancing over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of Allyn. He knew they had figured him out; by the way the eldest lady's jaw dropped and the youngest smirked at him.

Sighing, Allyn made his way to the kitchen where he would stand for two hours washing dish after dish until his shift ended at six in the evening. Surprisingly, the manger approached him, saying "the ladies have requested that you serve them" shocked, Allyn dropped the wash box on the nearest counter and hurried over to the small round table in the corner.

"Bonjourno" Allyn said, allowing the 'r' to roll of his tongue with fluency. All the small shrewd faces stared up at him with sheer wonder and shock. From the darkest corner a small thin boned pair of hands crept forward into the light, closely followed by a hollowed pale face that had sunken grey eyes which pinned Allyn to the ground.

"Allyn Bianchi" her voice croaked in the dim light of her corner. Firmly Allyn stood his ground (even though he was shaking on the inside) strongly he nodded. "We have heard much about you" she said displaying her hand to the rest of the group the huddled around her. "You are that boy that ran from his father, the one that gave up his mafia throne and all because he wanted to study art." The old woman smirked under her breath. Allyn knew every word she had said was true, he had brought shame to his family name and his father had disowned him.

Taking a deep breath Allyn raised his notepad "What would you like to order?" the old woman's grey eyes looked up to him. She begun to stand up.

"I am no longer hungry, thank you. Although, I would watch your back boy, you never know who has connections to your father."

Like a herd of sheep, the rest of the women followed her, their shepherd.

§

The crisp bitter coldness of the night turned Allyn's cheeks a rosy pink. He pushed his jacket up so that it covered his mouth and chin, but left the rest of his face unprotected from the harsh breeze that swept along the alley way he walked through. It was dimly lit, by a few flickering lampposts that had probably not been changed since the nineties.

Allyn had recently moved to a new warehouse conversion on the outskirts of the small ski village. It was a studio apartment made for one. He felt comfortable there and that was all that mattered.

As he neared the corner of his block, Allyn noticed a black van parked on the other side of the road. Its windows were blacked out and the doors were open from the back. Cautiously, Allyn approached it, lightening his steps so that they were all most silent on the iced gravel.  He peered over the open door to look into the pitch-black back. Before his eyes could adjust, a man lurched forwards from the darkness tackling Allyn to the ground. Badly winded Allyn struggled to catch his breath as he got to his feet bracing himself for the next blow (which happened to be a violent punch). Coughing and spluttering Allyn stayed down as his attacker pulled his head up. "Your father wants to see you" the man who had attacked him worked for his father and had been sent to find him. Before Allyn could open his black eye the man had thrown his head down. Now everything was ringing. The edges of his vision became blurred and eventually black.