Sinners

“Excuse me.” He tentatively walked over. “Alina?” 

She looked up with a polite smile. “Oh, hey. Cruz?” He nodded. “Nice meeting you.” 

They walked side by side to the cafe. “So Cruz, is that your first name or your last name?” Alina asked. She was a petite young woman, blonde hair slightly lighter than her profile pictures, dressed in a casual sundress and sandals. “Last name,” he said. “Is that a military thing, or do your friends use it?” she asked. Cruz shrugged. He was an athletic man, with dark hair and tanned skin. “I was never in the military, but everybody calls me Cruz except my parents, most people don’t even know my first name.”  

Cruz ordered coffee and croissants for the two of them while Alina got them a table by the window. “You must be busy with work these days, with the upcoming election and all the protests going on,” Alina said, as they sat down. Cruz tilted his head to the side. “Me?” “Your profile said you were a police officer?” Alina continued. Cruz nodded. “Oh right, yeah. Yeah, it’s always busy, but things are definitely picking up.” She nodded sympathetically. “Hang in there.” 

“What about you, what do you do?” Cruz asked. “I’m a dancer,” she replied. “That’s cool.” Cruz could see Alina as a dancer, with her athletic frame and graceful movements. “Like ballet or like more hip-hop?” he asked. “Like more hip-hop,” she said. “Oh, nice, so do you do like music videos and stuff?” he asked. “Maybe one day,” she said with a smile. “Right now, just performing with my troupe.” 

“There’s time for that, you’re young still,” he told her. She laughed. “You’re the same age as me, aren’t you?” “I mean, I’m turning twenty-nine next week,” he said. “And I just turned twenty-eight,” she said. Her eyes widened. “Hey, does that mean we’re both Gemini’s?” Cruz raised his eyebrows. “Guess it does.” He lifted his coffee. “To duplicity?” Alina tapped her cup to his. “To duplicity.”  

They finished their coffee and went for a walk through the park. “I don’t know what you’re up to for the rest of the evening,” Cruz said tentatively. “But I’m having a great time, maybe you’d like to get dinner? She smiled. “Love to, actually. Anywhere in mind?” “There’s this Italian place that I’ve been meaning to check out, are you down?” She nodded. “Sounds great.” 

*~*~*

“Nice music here,” remarked Alina. Soft jazz music was playing throughout the restaurant. Cruz nodded, and took a sip of his wine. “What do you usually listen to?” Alina put her head to the side. “A mix. I like rap, pop, hip-hop, that kind of thing, but my parents got me into some classics, so I associate them with nostalgia. What about you, did your parents get you into any artists?” she asked. 

Cruz hesitated. “Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I’ve talked to them. Since I turned eighteen we’ve never really spoken.” He looked at her. “Sorry, was that too much?” She shook her head. “No, don’t worry. I guess you and your parents don’t agree on a lot of things?” “You could say that,” said Cruz with a bitter chuckle. “What about you? Are you close with your family.” “Fairly close,” she replied. “We love each other a lot, we don’t agree on some things, like politics though.” “It’s cool though that you still get along, you can put aside your differences,” he said. 

“I know we shouldn’t talk about politics on a first date,” Alina said. “But this election should really shake things, either way. Aguilar’s planning to increase law enforcement, I’m sure you and your coworkers have your opinions on that.” Cruz nodded, taking a bite of his pasta. “Yeah. Most cops are with him on that, but the thing is we’re not exempt from the law either. A lot of the boys I work with don’t like how he’s cracking down on drugs, they think it’ll get them into trouble.” He chuckled. 

Alina raised her eyebrows. “Police officers, worried about being caught doing drugs?” Cruz chuckled. “Well, technically, they’re not that kind of cops, making arrests, they’re all working at the prison.” “You work at a prison?” Alina asked. Cruz nodded. “I’m a correctional officer.” “That’s not the same thing as a police officer, though is it?” asked Alina, a twinge of her brows.  

Cruz put his head to the side. “Technically we’re all still officers, from the same cohort. I wanted to do something like major crimes, homicide, but everyone’s after those positions. When the sergeant said there were openings at Florida State Prison, I took it, and I’ve been there ever since.” Alina nodded slowly. “So when you made your profile you were still deciding where to go?” Cruz hesitated, then shook his head. “Honestly, most people get a little put off by the fact that I’m a C.O., so I figured this way I’m not technically lying, I am an officer.” He looked closely at her, trying to gauge her expression. “Was I right?” 

“Florida State Prison…” she mused. “That’s the maximum security one, right? With death row and everything?” Cruz nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, I do work in max security, there’s a lot of staff turnover there so they always need officers on death row.” Alina looked thoughtful. “Wow. Death row. So do you ever, like, get attached to someone and then they get executed?” Cruz knitted his eyebrows. “Get attached to an inmate? Hell no, I’m just doing my job, not here to make friends with the inmates. And these people have torn families apart with what they did, the death penalty isn’t exactly harsh.” 

Alina did not say anything. “Sorry. I know I can be a bit cold, you kind of have to be with what I do,” said Cruz. “I take it you’re not a fan of the death penalty?” Alina shook her head. “I don’t agree with capital punishment, no. But I know a lot of people who do, so we can agree to disagree.” Cruz chuckled nervously. “Now you see why I just put ‘officer’ in my profile? A lot of people don’t respond too well.” Alina shook her head. “I won’t judge,” she said. “I don’t agree with a lot of the correctional system, but you have your job to do, like all of us.”  

“What about you?” Cruz asked her. “What about me?” “You said you’re a dancer, do the other dancers in your troupe have strong opinions on these issues, or on the election in general?” Alina nodded. “A lot of them feel the same way about policing of drugs, it could get them into trouble, given the work environment and everything.” “Given the work environment…?” Cruz repeated, confused. “I work at a club, and things can get pretty wild,” Alina said.  

Cruz raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said you work with a dance troupe.” “I mean that I have other coworkers who are dancers, I perform alone,” she said, her face showing a flicker of hesitation. Cruz looked unsure. “So when you say you work at a club, are you, you know… that kind of dancer?” “What kind of dancer?” she asked, a hint of defensiveness. “A stripper,” he said, lowering his voice.  

Alina sighed. “I do perform in lingerie, and I do take my clothes off. But what I said was true: I’m a dancer. It takes training, and technique.” “Wait, what? Okay, you know the guys aren’t there for the technique, they’re there to see you naked,” Cruz said incredulously. “Wait, so do you do lap dances and everything? Like grinding on people and that shit?” Alina nodded. “Sometimes. So?” Cruz dropped his head in his hands. “Damn it, Alina. Here you made me believe you were just touring with some hip-hop troupe, you didn’t tell me you’re a fucking stripper.”

“Why does it matter?” Alina demanded. “What do you mean, ‘why does it matter,’ I want to know if I’m going out with a stripper,” Cruz said. “Well you didn’t tell me the whole truth either, did you?” Alina pointed out. “You had me believe you handed out traffic tickets, not watch over inmates as they wait to die!” Cruz narrowed his eyes. “Okay, that’s not the same thing, you know it. Most Americans believe in justice.” “And most Americans have also been to a strip club at some time or another, you’re telling me you’ve never been to a bachelor party?” she countered.  

“I don’t buy lap dances, or grind on people for money,” he said coldly. “Well I don’t work with murderers,” she shot back. “You know I don’t actually work with the convicted murderers, I keep them in line,” he said. Alina shook her head vehemently. “I don’t mean them. I mean the officers you work with, that execute those inmates in cold blood. They’re just as much murderers as the ones behind bars.” Anger flashed over Cruz’s face. “Don’t say a word against people who carry out executions. It needs to be done.” “Would you do it?” Alina questioned.  

“I would and I have,” Cruz said grimly. “I’ve been lead executioner on the death team a number of times.” Alina’s eyes widened, then she barked out a laugh. “For fuck’s sake! You’re lecturing me about morality when you’ve literally killed people!” “These people deserve it, you don’t know the things they’ve done,” Cruz said. “And you don’t know the things they’ve been though!” she responded. “Who are you to decide whose life matters?”

“Have you ever, you know, done it all?” he asked her. “What the fuck are you talking about?” “Have you ever had sex with someone for money?” he continued. “Yes, I have turned a few tricks. A business transaction between consenting adults,” she said, unblinking. Cruz let out a breath. “Fuck. So you’re a hooker as well. Do you have a stage name? Are you planning to give me some STD?” Alina narrowed his eyes. “Fucking asshole. You wish.” “I don’t wish, actually!” he contradicted.  

They sat in silence, the tension thick. Cruz signalled the waiter and they each paid for their food. Neither said a word to each other until the waiter left. “You don’t know me,” she said quietly. He nodded. “That’s one thing we agree on. I don’t think I know you at all, Alina.” She looked up. “And you’re really not who you said you were either. I don’t even know your first name.” “What does it matter?” he asked. “You know it matters!” she insisted. “You think you’re invulnerable, you think you can hide behind your badge forever?” He was silent. “Toby,” he finally said. “It’s short for Tobias. But everyone, literally everyone, calls me Cruz.” She hesitated, expression still heavy. “Toby,” she repeated.  

A few moments passed. “Angel,” she said, out of the blue. He looked at her, confused. “What?” “You wanted to know my stage name. It’s Angel,” she said quietly. “But you can’t call me that because I’m off the clock.” He raised his eyebrows. “A little ironic, isn’t it?” “Isn’t what?” “Your hooker name is ‘Angel,’ like some church girl.” The anger came back to her face, and she reached under her collar and pulled out a necklace: the crucifix icon on a gold chain. “You really don’t know me.” 

Cruz squinted at the icon necklace. “Do you keep that on onstage?” She nodded. “Like you wear the Jesus necklace and nothing else?” he continued, incredulously. She glared at him. “You’re one to talk. Last time I checked, killing was kind of a big deal in the Bible.” He shook his head hard. “It says ‘thou shalt not murder,’ meaning killing an innocent. These people are as far from innocent as they come.” “Same difference,” she said derisively. “And you know Mary Magdalene, Jesus’ closest disciple was a sex worker.”  

“Former sex worker,” Cruz said. “She realized she had the choice, and so she repented.” Alina raised her eyebrows. “Impressive. So you know your Bible too.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Going to church since I was a kid.” “That doesn’t make you a good person. I don’t see any repentance in you, either,” she pointed out.  

“For what?” he demanded. “Doing my job?” “Do they pay you well for it? Killing people?” she asked. He narrowed his eyes. “They give us a small bonus for executions. Nothing like the kind of money you make, I’m sure.” “At least it isn’t blood money,” she spat. “Fuck, how the hell can you sit here, judging me, like you’re any better?” “Like you’re not judging me just as hard,” he shot back. They sat in silence.  

Alina spoke up. “Reminds me of John 8:7.” “Who?” asked Cruz. Alina shook her head. “No, the Bible verse, John 8:7.” She looked up at him. “ ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone’,” she quoted. Cruz exhaled bitterly. “Nobody’s without sin,” he stated. “We’ve all sinned.” Alina nodded soberly. “Yeah. That’s the point. They were about to stone an adulteress and Jesus stops them and challenges ‘he who is without sin’ to cast the first stone. They all had sinned so none of them throw stones and Jesus lets the woman go.” 

“I guess Jesus was the only one there who was really without sin,” said Cruz thoughtfully. Alina nodded. “But he had no desire to harm her.” Cruz looked down, then looked back up at her. “So you’re saying I’m like those biblical guys, all ready to start throwing rocks at you?” he demanded. “Technically I’m not an adulteress,” Alina said dryly. “I was never unfaithful to a partner.” Cruz let out a bitter chuckle. “Right. And I’m technically not a murderer. Outstanding people, the two of us.” 

Alina looked down at her crucifix necklace. “Jesus doesn’t see me as a sex worker, but as I am. He loves me, unconditionally, no matter what I do to push Him away or disappoint Him.” She looked back up at Cruz. “Believe it or not, He loves you too, and understands you.” “I know. Might be the only person out there who does,” he agreed bitterly. “Honestly, my faith is sometimes the only thing that keeps me going.” They sat in silence. 

“Can I drive you home?” Cruz asked. “So soon? I thought we were twin flames, you and me,” Alina said sarcastically. She looked at him seriously. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

*~*~*

Cruz drove silently as Alina glanced out the window. “I assume I’m not going to see you again,” he stated. She shook her head. “You won’t. I can’t be with someone who sees me like that.” “Like what?” he questioned. Alina said nothing. “A hooker?” he prompted. She shot him a contemptuous look. “Fuck you.” 

“You’re not… working after this are you?” Cruz asked suddenly. Alina shook her head. “I have the night off.” “That’s good. It’s really not safe downtown at this hour, with everything going on,” he said. “What do you care?” she shot at him. He gave her a look. “Believe it or not, I can feel, and can care.” She nodded, conceding. “I know. What about you, you have work tomorrow?” Cruz nodded. “Afternoon shift tomorrow. I’m not killing anyone this week though, don’t worry.” He stopped at a traffic light. “So what are you gonna do for the rest of the night?” “What do you care?” she asked again. He shrugged. “Fine, don’t tell me, I was just curious.” 

“My church is open twenty-four/seven. I sometimes like to go at night, before I go to sleep,” Alina said. Cruz raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to church at ten p.m. on a Saturday night?” he said dubiously. “It’s quieter when nobody’s around. I never go to Sunday mass, because of all the people there, I hate it,” she admitted. “Are the church people judgemental of what you do?” he asked. “They don’t know what I do, but I can feel it, the way they judge people, because they see in them what they can’t stand in themselves,” she answered. “So you prefer to go at night, where there’s nobody there?” he asked. Alina nodded. “Just me and Jesus. And yes, I do go after work, ‘cause I know that’s what you were about to ask. I don’t keep secrets from Him.” 

They were quiet for a few moments. “Would it be okay if I join you?” Cruz asked hesitantly. “You want to go to church with me?” she asked suspiciously. “Only if you don’t mind. If me there would make you uncomfortable like the Sunday crowd, I won’t go,” he said quickly. “Why do you want to go now, why now?” she asked carefully. “I won’t have sex with you after, if that’s your plan.” “I’m not trying to have sex with you,” Cruz said coldly. He inhaled deeply and exhaled. “I just don’t really want to be alone right now.”  

“You’re not alone, not in His eyes,” Alina told him, gesturing to Cruz’s own crucifix, hanging from the rearview mirror. He nodded. “I know. Just feels like it sometimes.” “But I don’t mind, we can go together,” she said. “I’ll give you directions to where it is.” Cruz followed her directions and fifteen minutes later, pulled into the parking lot.  

“What you said still holds, right? We’re never gonna see each other again?” Cruz asked, as they walked toward the front entrance. “I hope we don’t see each other again,” Alina said dryly. “Tonight was a disaster. But it doesn’t matter now. Right now, we’re just a couple of people—” “We’re not a couple,” Cruz cut in. Alina gave him a look. “You know what I mean. We’re just two people who need guidance. We’re just two sinners.” 

“Right. We’re just two sinners,” Cruz repeated. He opened the door and they walked side by side into the empty church.