Silly Samuel Blake

Chapter Eleven

Laughter and sheer joy fill the air as Wiley enters the McNair Café, two of his henchmen behind, another two waiting in his Hundae SUV, which is forcefully parked in a no-parking zone. Having been there most of his childhood, the place gives him a nostalgic feeling. He quickly brushes it off and focuses his mind on the task at hand, sorting out the first name on his "to be killed" list. None of the customers seem to take note of him. Most are involved in lengthy chatter while some are quietly enjoying their meals. A little girl smiles at her father here, two little boys fight over the remaining slice of pizza there and a middle-aged man stares out the window, lost in thought. His eyes roam about the place, searching for his target. After a few minutes, he finally spots the man he is looking for. Mark Arnold looks at the woman sitting opposite him intently, genuine smiles across both their faces as they intertwine their hands. For a brief moment, Wiley wonders if him and Claire could ever be that happy. "The weak smile" he reminds himself as he always does upon seeing happy couples. He signals for his henchmen to wait by the entrance as he approaches Arnold's table, whose eyes remain fixed on the unbelievably gorgeous woman before him.
"Ehem" Wiley attempts to catch their attention. His attempt is successful. Two pairs of eyes kindly stare at him, one pair light blue and the other dark green.
Arnold's expression is somewhere in between surprise and disbelief.
"Wiley? My God how did......"
"Well hello to you too Mark. Now tell me, how does such a fine looking lady get intimately entangled with such a grotesque creature?"
Both Arnold and his wife laugh at Wiley's supposed joke as common courtesy.
"Mind if I become the third wheel of this tricycle?"
"It's actually a bicycle since..."
"Well it is a tricycle now, haha"
Wiley gracefully pulls a chair out and sits. He then mercilessly digs into Arnold's meal, pulling the platter greedily towards him.
"Well somebody's hungry" Arnold notes, a stoic expression on his face.
"As for the meal I've just consumed, well, we won't be seeing much of it. I'm afraid to say that the same goes for you, Mark Arnold."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Mr Arnold, that your days, well, minutes are numbered. You've only moments to live. Don't worry, your death is to be broadcasted on all TV stations you will die a famous man."
Mark takes a long look at Wiley, amusement clearly evident on his face.
"You would bag quite a number of Oscars if you went for Hollywood Wiley, you're quite the actor, bravo!"
To Arnold's surprise, two camera men appear, almost out of nowhere, then a man with a microphone, then a director-ish looking old woman. Almost every table stares at Arnold's with great interest and awe.
"Now rise Arnold, rise from your seat, rise to the occasion, take your moment, and of course the bullets"
Numerous screams emanate from every corner of the Café as Wiley draws out his revolver, pointing it straight at his old colleague's face, which suddenly goes pale. Arnold gulps nervously. Suddenly the atmosphere has grown cold and eerie.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is an unprecedented event. For the first time ever, an actual murder will be broadcasted live, well is being broadcasted live from the Café we all visit to gulp down our daily troubles. Wiley, take it away" the man with the microphone announces.
"To say I'm nervous would be an understatement" Wiley starts, a sinister smile on his face, " I mean, folks, it's my first time holding a gun. Guys, guys, guys, please, please do not attempt to exit the café, you will die. Those two handsome men by the exit will shoot you if you do so. Now, where was I, right, my hands are shaking folks, my heart is racing, but my mind is ever so stable. Now listen, listen to the sweet sound of an illegal firearm as I end the life of an adult, illegally. How graceful, thy shooting skills. How deep, thy motive. Bear with me, as I snatch the life of thee"
With that, two distinct gunshots sound, elevating the screams of the café occupants.
"What have you done you sick bastard" one of the café occupants, a grey-haired, lean man, presumably at his late sixties, furiously barks at Wiley.
"Oh, it's not what I've done, it's rather what I'm about to do that you should be worried about. Spread the word folks, the killing spree has begun."
The horrified civilians part like the red sea as Wiley whistles his way out of the Café.

                   *************

A murderous rage seizes Morgan as he watches on the TV screen the life of his old colleague being snatched in a heartless manner. He wriggles furiously, trying to break free of the ropes tying him to the metallic chair. Wiley's henchmen barely cast a glance at him. "I swear to God, I'm gonna kill him, I ...." he spits, hot tears falling down his cheeks.
Nancy Blake empathetically looks at his fuming husband, wondering how in the world did Morgan's old work life catch up to them.
"Why don't you just let the police handle it Honey?" she tries to reason with him.
"You don't send the police to handle Wiley, he handles them, but thankfully, I can handle him."
Morgan answers, anger lacing his tone.
"Oh yeah? How's that workin' for ya?" one of Wiley's henchmen, a stout-looking man with porcelain skin and messy hair pipes in.

"Oh, just you get me out of this chair, just you untie me, you shall see, oh you shall see" Morgan barks at the man.

                   ************
Darla sits alone at a table in the cafeteria, wondering how could the Blakes leave without saying goodbye. She can't help but miss the silly boy who happens to be her next door neighbour, and with whom she has fallen in love.
She can't shake off the eerie feeling that something horrible has occurred to her neighbours. The feeling appears to be growing stronger with each day, to the point of giving her sleepless nights. A smile creeps up on her face as she thinks of Sam's naïveté and his effortless sense of humour. Just then, Tyler Gruesome enters the cafeteria, his food wobbling about in his arm, threatening to fall, a goofy grin forming on his face as he spots Darla's table, which has three vacant seats. Hidden behind the goofy grin are quirky nerves and self consciousness as he summons up the courage to sit at the same table with the girl.

"Is, is anybody sittin' here?" he asks nervously, pointing at one of the vacant seats with his head.
"No, Tyler, nobody's sitting there, go on, sit" Darla answers, a warm smile on her face. Relieved beyond imagination, Tyler happily sits opposite of her. She is taken aback by what Tyler says next:

"I know how you feel, I miss him too."

                    ************

"You known I kinda feel bad about this man, it's like I'm betraying my country, like I'm committing treason, I am betraying my country." James Dean says to his friend as they sit inside the  Jolly Jones bar.
"Don't gimme that patriotic crap, we both know how much we need this. When all of this is over, we'll be filthy rich Dubai citizens, we won't be stuck up in suits protecting a worn out old man. Try to use that as motivation." Christian Adorn says to his friend, trying to ease his panic.
"I dunno, I don't trust this Wiley character."
"Relax, Wiley and I come a long way, he wouldn't do anything like that. If it were anybody else I would have denied the offer."

"I hope you're right, for both our sakes."