Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

And although I heard nothing as I walked up the stairs to the second floor I distinctly felt that some one or thing was in the area. What I in fact saw on the second floor was, I gathered, a man. A portly fellow standing outside Angus’s door. He stayed in the shadow of the corner, a corner I would have to pass to go up to my apartment. He spoke:

“Hey pal,” he said in a way that made me think he knew me and I was supposed to know him, making more than a terse greeting expected. I said something in return and he took a step forward and out of the dark. He was big. He had short black hair and white clean-shaven skin. He passed his hand by his mouth and raised his cheek up and down with the corner of his mouth. He wore what looked like a uniform — dark gray or blue or even faded black, I couldn’t tell — with a white shirt and a dark tie held in by a zipper that ended chest high at two significant lapels. He was absolutely familiar and I’m using that word in its strict sense, meaning he was like family, but I also knew I had never seen him before. That or I had seen him so many times that the sight of him had lost all meaning. I struggled to speak, which I wouldn’t have even tried to do but for the fact that he seemed to expect me to.

“Do I? Do we know each other? I’m sorry.”

“C’mon pal, you know that I know that you know that we don’t know each other.”

“Oh.” I looked away and went to knock on the door.

“Never mind that,” he said. “Angus isn’t home. And I don’t know the names of those other two nuts but they ain’t home neither.”

“Oh, you know Angus?”

“Sure I know him. How else would he know me?”

“Makes sense.”

“Humana humana aya uh, would you do me a favor there pal?”

“What’s that?”

“Do you have a kern?”

“A what?”

“A kern. I understand you can make a phone call if you have a kern, I’m not from here.”

“Oh a coin? Where you from?”

“Bensonhoist, 328 Chauncey Street. Or 728 I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, Bensonhurst’s Brooklyn. Pretty much the same rules apply throughout here with regards to pay phones and the like.”

“I had a phone once but I got rid of it, you married kid?”

“No.”

“Good thinking, keep it that way ho! Now what about that kern? Don’t think of it as a loan, think of it as an investment in the corporation of me. I have big ideas.”

“I might have one,” I said. “Let me see.” I started digging into my many pockets but found nothing. I took my time and felt my fat companion losing patience until:

“Come on!!” he said shooting his open hands out from his body and bending his knees slightly.

“Take it easy,” I said. “I don’t have one.”

“Sorry,” he said and did that cheek thing.

“All right… but I have to go.” I started up the stairs then turned back. “I didn’t catch your name,” I said.

“I didn’t throw it wo ho!”

I laughed.

“Just kidding,” he said.

“So?” I said surprised at my apprehension.

“Herbert. Herbert John.”

Thank God I thought. “Well nice to meet you Herbert,” I said. “I’m Casi.”

“Oh you’re Casi huh? I have a message for you.”

“What is it?” I said.

“A detective came by looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, a what-tective?”

“A detective, NYPD I suppose. He said your name pal, wanted to talk to you.”

“Said my name? You sure?”

“Yup, said Casi, remember it clear as a bell.”

“What was his name?”

“Detective ass? Andro? Something with an A I think.”

“D’Alessio?”

“Yes! No. It’s either that or it isn’t, I’m not sure. But if I was you I would definitely maybe be uhscared.”

“Thanks Herb.”

“Call me Jackie,” he said.

Fuck I thought.

Inside my apartment, sitting on my couch, his feet on my stool, reading my newspaper, was Dane.

“What the?”

“You should lock your door,” he said.

“I did.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t.”

“You implied it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I didn’t, now you’re putting some in mine.”

“Maybe.”

“I thought you were gone.”

“Gone? From where? How?”

“Gone. You know as in took the money and ran, as in haven’t heard from you in a couple of days when I would certainly have expected to.”

“ That gone? You think that little of me? How beneath my dignity would such a move be? No, your well-gotten gains are safe. Come with me now and we’ll get it.”

“Get what exactly?”

“Eleven million dollars for now.”

“For now?”

“It changes every time I count, it goes up.”

“Eleven total.”

“Eleven each, but you can have mine if you wish. Let’s go.”

“No, there’s a problem.”

“A what? I’m sorry I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“A problem.”

“There’s no problem. I told you, over and over I told you, that we would, at a minimum, get that money and if you come with me now I’ll show it to you, you can smell it then start spending it. The only question, not a problem, is what our next project should be.”

“Another question might be what to do about the NYPD detective currently looking for me.”

“Detective?”

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, that’s the problem? Please.”

“That’s the one.”

“Detective who?”

“Not sure but I’m thinking D’Alessio who was at the meeting.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, I said I think it’s D’Alessio.”

“No, how do you know any detective is looking for you at all?”

“Some guy just told me downstairs.”

“Some guy? Downstairs? Fuck him, what does he know?”

“I trust him, he’s a good man.”

“How long you known him?”

“Seconds.”

“I see,” he said. He turned the newspaper he was reading so I could see the front. “You saving this for a reason?”

“Yeah that’s another problem.”

“What, the press? Now you’re worried about them? Law enforcement and the press. Could you pick more feeble entities to be spooked by?”

“I’m sorry I can’t share your confidence but things seem pretty messed up to me right now. The plan certainly wasn’t for what happened back there to happen. The plan wasn’t for that picture to be splashed, as they say, all over the front page of the next day’s paper and the plan most definitely didn’t involve a detective coming to my home, my home , where I do my most sacred breathing, to question me. None of that was part of the plan and none of that is good in any conceivable way.”

“You jest, surely, this is a time for exultation not concern. This newspaper and its relatives have the attention span of a six-month-old. Where’s my thanks for the blackout that effectively ended what little fascination the public would’ve had for our events? This detective? He sounds like he couldn’t detect a frog if it landed on his head and took a shit. He keeps nosing around and the only thing he’s going to detect is my foot up his ass.”

“What about that picture? What about what it depicts? Can you change that? Because that was fucked up and fucked up because of us.”

“ Because of us ? Did we tell those fuckers to come in there and start shooting up the place? Because I don’t remember doing that.”

“True. You’re right right? That was going to happen whether we were there or not.”

“Now you’re thinking.”

“Fuck Escalera for trying to avoid paying too. He’s the one fucked up the whole thing if you think about it.”

“Even if you don’t.”