Catch-22

*strong language, discretion is advised

Ah, my head hurts!

‘What do you want to do with him, Sir?’ asked a gruff voice.

‘Just drop him!’ answered someone, a voice like honeyed oil, thick, sweet and gut churning.

Where the hell am I? Why can’t I see anything? Is there… is there something over my head? What the hell? My head hurts so badly. Did someone knock me out? I wonder if I’m bleeding? No! I can’t feel anything wet back there. At least that’s some good news. I probably have a concussion though, need to get it checked out as soon as I can.

What the hell is this thing? Is it a bag? I’ll make these assholes regret this night!

‘Hello!’ said the honey-oil voice.

‘Where the hell am I?’ I ask, a bit too much emotion in that. Did I bite my tongue? Yeah, there it is. Blood… must’ve been quite the wallop.

‘Good question! Here’s one better: why are you here?’ said the honey-oil voice.

‘Huh?!’ Who the hell are these people?

‘Sorry, about that. Where are my manners, please sit down! Well, you’re already down. Please get up and sit down. I was just about to eat dinner, if you wish to join me.’ said the honey-oil voice.

The hell is wrong with these guys? I’m looking at them and I can’t believe my eyes. Who the hell do these assholes think they are, some sort of gangsters or what?

I think I know this place though, this is El Mafioso. Gangsters in a gangster themed restaurant?! I guess I must’ve dropped in on the biggest cliche in history.

I mean, just look at them, honey-oil guy, or should I just call him: big boss man, wearing his tailored suit and slicked back hair. He’s got golden rings and everything. Is that a golden watch? Ha ha! Maybe I’m dreaming, this is too funny to be real.

‘Are you alright? If you’re going to vomit, please do so in the bag. The floors are real walnut.’ said the boss.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine!’

‘Did you hear what I said? John, can you please incentivise the gentleman? I’m losing my patience!’ said the boss.

Incentivise? Who the fuck talks like that?

‘Right away, Sir!’ answered John.

‘Hampf!’ My ribs! He kicked me in the ribs. Who the fuck are these assholes? Holly shit, it hurts!

‘Please join me for dinner!’ announced the boss sharply.

‘Yes, ‘d love to!’

‘Good! I’m Becket, by the way. Maurice Becket!’ said the boss, smiling.

Like I’m supposed to know who that is. Jesus, the nuts on this guy, Lord Corleone up in here ladies and gentlemen. Becket, James Becket… holy crap. I need to get out of here. My head still hurts like hell, and my ribs ain’t faring much better with Klunker over there. Where’s the exit in this joint?!

‘John, our guest’s attention seems to have wondered off. Could you please help him out?’ said Becket.

‘Yes, Sir!’ replied John. His palm rushing across the back of my head. This is getting ridiculous, and fast.

‘What do you want with me?’

‘Well, first off, you could tell Andrew over here,’ a waiter steps to my right, all icy smiles, ‘what you’d like to eat. I would suggest the veal, it’s exquisite.’ said Becket.

‘Veal?’

‘John?’ interjected Becket.

‘No, no, no…’ I get ahead of John’s calling, and his disappointment marks me. It’s clear that this boy was born and bread for this. Are these guys for real? I really need to get out of here!

‘No… as in you don’t want veal?’ asked Becket.

‘No, as in I don’t need John’s help in choosing.’ the smile I throw John’s way is met with disapproval. I can’t help but snicker at the rage he feels towards me. It’s good that he’s been trained so well. I’d hate to see him off his leash.

‘Ok, then choose,’ said Becket. With such strength behind those words, it’s clear to me that power was not something he’s gained recently. If this turns out to be just a charade, I’m not sure this guy can take the punch line.

‘I’ll have the veal, thanks! If it’s to be my last meal, I’d rather it be exquisite.’ I hold his gaze while saying this, searching for a weakness there. There’s none that I can see… fuck, I think I’m really in trouble here.

‘Excellent choice. I’ll have the same, Andrew, and bring a bottle of Château Lafitte. I want to spoil my guest.’ said Becket cordially. ‘Good, now, Mark. What are you doing here?’

What the hell, how does he know my name? Holy shit!

‘It seems you already everything about me, why don’t you tell me!’

‘John.’ replied Becket.

‘Wait! You guys are really wound up tight, you know that?’

‘Not more than the situation dictates. Thank you, Andrew! Salute!’ said Becket, raising his glass.

The wine is solid. Heavy on the tongue, I should down it quick to numb myself a bit, who knows what I’ll need to do before the evening’s done.

‘I’m just saying that you already seem to know everything about me. I’m not even sure how I got here.’

‘That’s easy, John and Chris brought you in.’ replied Becket.

‘Yes, but why?’

‘You have an insolence about you, Mark! Normally, I would enjoy bending such insolence to my will, and John here.’ Klunker’s face is made of solid rock. ‘John has a way of of understanding my needs and fulfilling them without reproach.’

‘Heh, that says a lot!’ this time John’s hand came down of its own accord. The light flashed before my eyes and little specks mark its passing. I’m not sure I like where this is going, and it’s all that shit, Slim’s fault. ‘Look, I don’t know how I’ve stepped on your toes, Mr. Becket. It’s clear this has to do with the little talk I had with Slim.’

‘You mean, Phil Castle.’ replies Becket. There’s a spark in his eyes now, like the spark of a flame coming to life.

‘If that’s his name, yes! On my corner he goes by Slim. As in slim pickings because he’ll take anything off your hand to get his high. We just had a talk!’

‘You stabbed him, Mark!’ replies Becket.

‘With his own knife, how do you think that came to pass?’

‘Mark, look, I’m a patient man. Phil was important to me and unfortunately for you, he’s no longer able to back up your words. Now!’ and there it was. The spark became a flame. ‘Are you able to make up for his loss?’

Make up for his loss? What the fuck is this guy talking about? At least I know I got that little shit, for all those times I had to chase him down and all the bullshit I had to stomach from him. That fucker! I can’t believe I’m here because of him. Fuck! How the fuck am I going to get out of this one?

‘Look!’

‘No, Mark! You look! You’ve bored me! I hope you found the veal to your liking… John!’

What the… And in that moment, a velvet touch surrounds me. I can feel it burning my neck. I can… I…

………………………………

John had been waiting intently to be called out. Like a fox hound waiting for his master to drop the leash, a rush of adrenaline to push him ever forward on the hunt. His hands a strained coils wanting to dart outward, closing the wire around Mark Denissen’s neck. The strain would last for six and a half seconds and at the end of the soft spray of blood, a lifeless body would sag in his chair; head limp, arms hanging awkwardly around the sides, devoid of gists and quirks. A fading light which once had burned absurdly turned to burden.

………………………………

I can’t believe this idiot ruined my meal. How am I going to explain this mess to Mary?

‘Sir?!’ John asked.

John… where would I be without him, his loyalty, his professionalism. If it wasn’t for him, this scum would’ve gotten away, and I don’t think I could’ve ever explained this to Mary… Mary! How long I’ve waited to see you again, and now… now this… this… imbecile has spoiled our evening. What am I going to do?

‘Sir?!’ John asked again.

‘Yes, John!’

‘Do I take him to Sal’s?!’ asked John.

‘No, take him out back. Put him in the freezer until I understand the consequences of tonight. Chris!’

‘Yes, Sir!’ answered Chris.

‘Try to find out as much as you can about our friend.’

‘Yes, Sir!’ replied Chris.

‘Andrew!’

‘Sir?!’ he replied.

‘Please make sure our actions don’t leave any physical evidence and please be extra careful with the hardwood.’

‘You can count on me, Sir!’ he replied.

Good! I don’t think I have any Mark on me. I should count myself lucky about that, at least. That would’ve been at least another squandered hour. Mary! Oh, Mary!

‘Ready, Sir!’ announced John, returning from the back of the restaurant.

‘Let’s go!’

‘Yes, Sir!’ replied John.

It’s been four weeks now, my sweet, sweet Mary. Four weeks in which I’ve longed to feel the scent of your hair even for a second. To know my breath lingers on your skin… and now, now… What am I going to do, Mary?! My love!

‘Did you order the flowers?’

‘Yes, Sir!’ John replied. ‘As always: 3 Ruscus, 5 Hypericum, 1 Amaranthus, 4 Astilbe Erika, 8 Dahlia, 5 Rosa Penny Lane, 4 Dianthus, 3 Achillea, 1 Antirrhinum and 6 Craspedia, Sir!’

‘Is the Antirrhinum, pink?’

‘Yes, Sir! You don’t have to worry, Sir, It’ll be waiting for us when we get there.’ John replied.

‘Thank you, John!’ Oh, Mary! My love, my love… you will forsake me and I shall be lost without you.

‘Sir?!’ asked John.

‘Yes!’

‘I’ll take Phil to the docks, and we’ll call you afterwards. You don’t need to tell her right away.’ he continued.

‘I don’t know, John!’

‘Sir, you’ve been looking forward to this for so long, it would be a shame to let such a thing ruin it. I’ll call you after it’s done. That should give you enough time! I hope you don’t mind but I’ve already told Chris to prepare things.’ he said.

‘Do you think it’s wise?’

‘Yes, Sir! Enjoy yourself, you’ve been away for too long.’

‘Thank you, John!’

‘My pleasure, Sir! Here we are!’

John, my loyal, John! I would be so lost without you! Because of you, I can savor some time with my beloved. I hope the flowers don’t disappoint. I’ve had enough surprises for one evening.

‘Love, I’ve missed you so!’

‘Oh, sweet Maurice, I thought you’d never come.’ These lips, I’ve yearned for these lips for so long. To feel their rosy taste once more onto my own is enough to chase away the evening’s conflagration.

‘I’m sorry, Love! I had a last-minute interruption. You’re not upset, are you?’

‘Don’t be silly, Maurice! Oh, the flowers are without reproach, just like you, my sweet.’ said Mary.

I’m always beside myself when I see just how her waist fits in my arms. Her skin, her eyes, her hips, her gown… so soft, so… alluring. The secrets they hide, the promises they make… the promises they keep.

Oh, Mary! To nestle at your bosom is all I’ve dreamt about these weeks. I feel complete in here, inside your arms, transfixed within your love… unshed, unleashed, undone.

My love!

‘Is something the matter, my sweet!’ she asks, her voice an angel’s song.

‘No, love! Why do you ask?’ tracing my finger on her naked skin.

‘You feel… disturbed.’

‘No, love! It’s just that… it’s been so long without you…’ Damn… the phone. It must be John. ‘Yes, John! Yes… She’s here… What do you mean?’ I can already feel her stirring. ‘How?… Has he been dealt with?… Ok! Thank you, John!’

Those eyes, those deep blue eyes! How can I dare bring sorrow in their midst?! What will she do? Will she blame me? How can she not, what will happen to her love for me?

‘Maurice, what’s wrong? Maurice?!’ she asks. Oh, Mary! My love!

‘Mary, your brother…’

‘Phil?! What’s wrong with Phil?’ she pleads.

‘John and Chris found him dead by the docks. He’s…’

‘Oh my God! Phil… Oh my God!’ she cries.

‘They caught the culprit. He’s dead, too!’

‘Phil… Oh, Phil!’ her voice an angel’s sorrow. My love! My sweet, sweet love!

‘Come here, my love! Let me hold you! I’m sorry, love! I’m sorry!’

………………………………

Mary’s heart is torn… the arms of Maurice Becket give her strength, but in that strength she does not feel safe. Her brother’s death, albeit tragic, does not shock her as he would have expected. Mary is made of sterner stuff, and as he drifts in gentle, musky sleep, his prize in hand, her mind starts chasing ghosts upon the walls.

………………………………

I can’t believe he’s gone! What does it mean? What… what will I do now?

Phil! You bastard! You wretched, bloody bastard. How typical of you to fucking die, you piece of shit. You worthless piece of shit! You don’t deserve my tears. I’m glad you’re dead, I’m glad I’m free of you! I hope you suffered! You wretched, wretched… bastard!

‘Come now, sis’! It’s not like you don’t like it!’ you’d say.

‘And how do you know? Tell me! He thinks I’m his toy! Should I show you what he does to me, Phil? Who knows! Maybe you’ll like it there! Maybe, that’s it, Phil! Could it be that you’re living your fantasy through me, dear brother?’

Those slaps… the weight of your hand… I’ve felt it grow, it grew with us, my memory of it as distant as my womanhood. You were always there for me, my sweet brother, you’ve always dared look inside me more than I’d ever wish.

‘You’re so gifted, Mary! You just need to bare with him a little longer.’ you’d say.

‘How long, Phil? How much more of this, brother?’

‘Not long now, my sweet! It will be over soon.’ you’d promise.

I guess you were right, sweet brother! It’s over now. You’ve left me stranded in this life you’ve made for us. You’ve left me… all alone.

‘I love you, sis’! I love you so much! I won’t let anything happen to you, but you need to do as I say. You need to listen to me…’

‘Oh, Phil…’

‘Sleep now, sweet! You need your rest! He’ll be here soon.’

………………………………

A pretty bird sits in her master’s lap, her wings once clipped now dare not flutter. What makes a song bird sing, I wonder? Her eyes adrift through clouds of ghosts, she peers a ray of sunshine up ahead. What will she do knowing full well that singing birds should sing only when someone loves to hear their song?

………………………………

That conniving cunt. I should’ve dumped her ass years ago. If it wasn’t for me she’d be food for the boys down at the docks, not living it up like a princess on Hampton Blvd. All these years of caring for her, and all she does is squirm…

One day, princess… one day… We’ll see how long you’ll last without me!

‘Hey, Slim!’ a tense voice yells.

What the fuck?

‘Hey, Slim! Wait up! It’s me!’ he insists.

Fuck, you stupid idiot… these are his corners. Why the fuck did you come through here?

‘Sliiiiim! Wait up, buddy!’

Fuck, I need to get out of here. If he catches up to me…

Run, Phil… run!

‘Slim, don’t run, man! I just want to talk!’

Fuck! What do I do?! I need to think of something fast. I can’t outrun him. Maybe if I try to hide? El Mafioso isn’t far from here, maybe…

The ground’s wet from the rain, it’s good that I know these alleys otherwise I’d be done for.

‘Sliiiiim!’

He’s going to catch me at this rate! He’s going to catch me! I need to hide! I need to hide! Holy shit! Where’s my damn phone… what’s the name of that bull of a man that shadows Becket?!

‘John!’

‘What do you want, Castle?’ a gruff voice replies.

‘John, I need your help. I’m in the alleys behind Alexander’s. Someone’s after me, I need you to come get me.’

‘You’re out of your mind, Castle! Fuck off!’ John replies.

‘Sliiiiim, where are you, buddy?’ the man yells.

‘Really, John?! Really? Do you want something to happen to me, John? Tonight?’

‘…’ Oh, fuck! He hung up! That motherfucker!

‘Here you are, Slim!’ says the man as he approaches, a jarring smile stretched across his face.

‘Duke! It’s… It’s you!’

‘Of course it’s me, Slim! Don’t call me, Duke! My friends call me, Duke! We’re not friends, Slim! Or are we?!’ he asks.

‘We are, Duke! Of course we are?’

‘We are? Then why are you running from your friend, Slim?’

………………………………

The alleys echo cries as Mark’s fists pound onto flesh. A blade catches the light of the moon and in a twist of fate it bites its own master. A river of blood gushes below the man’s ribs and, as the victor stares upon its foe, darkness encroaches.

………………………………

‘Sir! I’ve got bad news!’

‘What is it, John! Tonight’s not the time!’ he replies, anger slipping into his voice.

‘Phil Castle’s dead, Sir!’

‘What?!’ he yells, displeased.

‘We have the man, Sir! His name is Mark Denissen, Sir! Shall I bring him in?’

‘Yes, John.’

‘What do you want to do with him, Sir?’

‘Just drop him!’