The Assassin

The Assassin

Located in the Louisiana bayou, The Diner has served customers for decades. Since I came to this godforsaken place the heat has turned hellish, and as I start my shift, I feel dizzy. I hate working here, in my humble opinion everybody should stick to what they know, and waiting tables is not my strong suit. But when the option to this meaningless existence is a shallow grave, I don’t complain to much or to loud.  

Still, it is better to be in the Diner working than be at my temporary home. I frequently have comforting thoughts of using my considerable skills to silence Bernadette, my landlady. Fortunately for her she is my boss’s grandmother and thus off limits. The old hag has no problem complaining about all and sundry, especially me now that I am supposedly taking care of her and I have come to understand the smirk my boss had when driving me to the stations should have been a warning.

Today, the warmth and humidity outside mimics a finish sauna. Unfortunately the old air condition is no match for mother nature. I wait tables while the ample padding and wig I use as a disguise make sweat trickle down my neck. The tedious work, so different from my profession has thought me to appreciate the agency and my boss in new and glorious ways. The heath make me dread having to clean the place after closing although I do snicker at the thought. Keeping up the spirit with wet work and clean ups. 

When two of the regulars, brothers I think, one burly and one skinny comes in, I think nothing off it. Not at first. Every day they order the same food, sit at the same table and behave their boring self. But not today. They take a table in the back. Not their usual. I perk up, the exile has awakened an appreciation of even small changes in daily routines. As usual I am close to invisible. The sturdy outfit and shy demeanor is mildly off-putting and enables me to observe and watch. I carry a tray of their regular, truly fattening breakfast, to the table. I have wondered this few weeks why the skinny boy in not gaining weight with this amount of calories, he must have a metabolism of a Greyhound. I take my time serving them, crossing my fingers that the change off tables have a significance. Their conversation, though somewhat mystifying is more exiting than I hoped for, and I understand why they chose this more secluded spot. 

«I will kidnap that dog of hers. He deserve a better owner anyway, I have already got him treats and a new blanket.» Burly, oldest of the two, get misty eyes, and I picture him sneaking a big rotweiler or pitbull into the back of a truck. He looks at his brother who cannot be more than sixteen.«You will say you saw the dog running up Main Street, and she will go with you. No-one is afraid of a skinny boy like yourself and she will be frantic with worry and maybe even grateful for your help. The mutt is the only thing that old hag cares about. I use the stun gun when we get far enough away from Main. We drive to the docks in the van and take her out in the boat. »

«Not so loud! Christ sake, do I have to spell it out? We can not discuss any of this in public.» Skinny is close to panic, rightly so in my opinion, clearly the brightest of the two. He chows a large piece of bacon into his mouth, chew it like a rabbit.

«No-one is close enough to hear us, simmer down. It is not like we will go on a killer spree, we just take out the old witch that no-one will miss and get enough money to start our business. One bullet to the brain while she is unconscious, she will never know what happened. Skinny fiddles with his earlobes. «There is a niece or something, visiting. Leonard said he had to haul four suitcases up the stairs in the old house. She only carried one bag herself, long and narrow, Leonard was certain it did not contain clothes. Burly shrugs. « Leonard has to much imagination, forget him. We have to think of a way to get around the girl. Later»

Hands clammy, I pause. The two morons are discussing a job. In the diner I work. In broad daylight. My professionalism takes a hit, pun intended. This is a catastrophe in the making. If my boss hears of a murder in the town of which I am exiled, I have no doubt he will think I m going private just for the fun of it. He will not like that at all. But on the other hand, he would not do anything drastic before I would get a chance to explain, would he? After all, he has trusted me with his grandmother.

Burly clears his throat. 

« I have an idea for what happens after. A gator»

I almost nod, while looking at Skinny from my position in the corner where I tidy napkins and cloths. The slight quiver in his earlobes before he agree is cute somehow, I kind of like him, but then I have always loved strays, especially this one with puppy eyes and wiry build, I discover. The Burly demonstrates his lack of sense yet again. «The old lady is rumored to have a money tucked away in that big, rambling house. We should help ourselves, nothing wrong with getting a bonus. In my opinion we should have gotten the double. The planning alone is time consuming.»

Oh, there is so much wrong with that. When taking on a job, my professionalism guides me to do what I are supposed to, leave as few trace as possible. Burglarizing, a trustful approach and planning out in the open has never been in my repertoire, thats for sure. I feel just plain insulted and wait to see what Skinny has to say. He doesn’t disappoint. «We have a contract, I say we just do what we are supposed to.» 

I might have let that one go, in honor of my new favorite. But then Burly says the fatal thing. Fatal for him, that is. «Bernadette’s always home Saturdays. We should do the job tomorrow, be done with it. 

Bernadette is is indeed an old hag and that dog of hers, while looking like a sweet and cuddly Maltese, has a soul of a doberman on steroids. Skinny and Burly, dog lovers and mostly altruistic, for sure had their valid reasons for excepting a job. Their only mistake was the target. I cannot let Bernadette be murdered on my watch, her survival is vital to me getting back in my boss’s good grace. While acting the part of a mediocre waitress I contemplate several outcomes. 

Burly is a sure thing, no doubt about it. But maybe Skinny could be recruited. I don’t like to waist youth and intelligence. I would like to pay it forward, recruit someone like I myself once was recruited, help Skinny go from amateur to professional

The hairs on my arms flattens in anticipation, I feel the calm and focus that is necessary settle in my mind. The warmth of the day is no longer a concern, the excitement of using a gator for the very first time flushes the ice through my veins like always before a job