Easy Target

Chapter 4: Pima

Loren and Pima burst into the house, where Leroy was attempting to clean the kitchen. He was washing the dishes, balancing their cheap plates precariously on the edge of the sink.

The hiss of the water coming out of the tap covered the noise of their entry, and Leroy continued to rinse off the grease of the morning’s pasta breakfast.

Both of the mischievous teenagers smiled at each other, and then began cheering as they sloppily threw the bag of potatoes on the table. There was a loud crack as one of the legs broke, crumbling under the weight.

Their rejoicing stopped immediately as they watched the table tip as it wobbled on its now uneven legs. It fell over on its side, dumping still-hot pasta on the floor, as well as the potatoes.

Leroy turned in shock, staring angrily at the now less happy Loren and Pima. “You guys just wasted good food! That would have lasted us a week, at most! And now it’s in the dirt, all because you idiots couldn’t put that stupid bag down gently! Look, the table’s broken.”

“Well, no shit, Leroy. It was an old table, anyways,” commented Loren, shrugging. He continued, nonchalantly, obviously feeling no guilt at all. “That pasta’s no big deal. That bag we brought in is full of potatoes.” He pointed to the ground. “See?”

The potatoes were rolling all over the uneven dirt floor, one stopping in front of Leroy’s foot. He picked it up and examined it closely. It was bruised slightly, and indented at its surface. It was nearly split open in the middle as well, and coated with a thick layer of dust.

Completely inedible, and presumably the other potatoes had faced the same fate.

Leroy blinked slowly. “Oh, is that so?” he mused. “That’s okay then.” His voice had suddenly lost all emotion, he didn’t even sound angry anymore. He put the potato on the counter next to the dishes, and as he did so, he bumped into the pile of plates.

They crashed to the ground, breaking into tiny bits, the ceramic shards going everywhere.

Pima and Loren jumped as the noise pierced the room, but Leroy was still calm, somehow, even though now the table was broken, the plates were a mess, and the potatoes were worthless.

"Let me clean up," he continued softly. "Tell Jen I'm sorry that I'm late."

Jen, better known as simply J, was the overseer of the people who worked in the sewers. She was generally a nice person, but she ran a tight ship---anyone who was late or broke the rules in any way was subject to rather unfair and elongated consequences. Either that, or extremely long lectures, if she was in a better mood.

Pima shook her head slowly. “But, Leroy,” she whined. “You’ll get in trouble again.” Walking over to her sad-looking brother, Pima asked, “What’s wrong?”

Loren awkwardly attempted to flip the table back over, making a loud crash as it hit the floor again, this time falling on its other side and breaking off another one of the legs. It clattered to the ground with a thunk.

“Oops,” he said sheepishly.

Leroy turned around, threatening to explode with rage. Several emotions passed over his face until he finally smiled and said, “Nothing. Go, you guys, before you’re late too.”

His smile seemed to be as thin as delicate glass, threatening to shatter the longer he was forced to hold it up.

When Loren and Pima didn’t move, he used a scary tone neither had ever heard him use before.

“Get. Out. Now.”