Puzzling Pieces

Chapter 17

It wasn’t meant to be a double team attack! But the man was carrying a gun when he came in and stalked the house before me and Robbo knew what to do. He moved from room-to-room before deciding that the only place left to check was the backyard which we had shut but was unlocked.  

Robbo mistakenly left the key on the counter, and he picked this up, and turned to the draw put it back - then stared out one of the windows that gives a clear outline of the yard whilst making his way across to push down on that door handle with care. Robbo moved quickly. And lucky he wasn’t the tallest of men. He had had little time to retaliate when it came down and he yelled out; “what the” –

He wouldn’t be able to see Robbo and I in the dark, but he’d see the rubbish tipped out in a pile, and one bin missing, that happens to be the recycling bin that is now coming down like the hand of God and enclosing him inside of the darkness.

It was enough time for Robbo to grab the bottom of his legs – as I helped to tip the bin to the point where his shoes were frantically waving for mercy! It gave him a dilemma … and enough time for me to grab the gun: nothing special, a glock that I reckon I could easily get my hand on - a little dark though, so it could be the G22 or G17 - but enough of admiring guns when this guy’s headstand starts to move the bin away from Robbo’s clutches.

“Help me bring this inside!” The energy used to move this man inside with a little heave-ho when it came to the sole plate of the back door which was equal to lifting a washing machine all by one’s self. We managed to get him in … and then Robbo ran to switch on the kitchen light that buzzed bright-then-dark-bright-then-dark - a few times before lighting the room.

I chucked the gun over to Robbo; who catches it and waited for me to arrive at his side, so we could kick the middle of this bin and send the man toppling out! There was enough space for the bin to fall like ka-plonk; with the instant sliding out of the body that hastily tries to sit upright and chuck the bin to one side.

Robbo and I pay the guy a favor and help him, but when that recycling bin bounces off to the side … he sees a blade and the muzzle of the gun coming from the back and front. He searches for us both, and I’ll be damned when I take a good look at the Spanish brother who can’t tear his eyes away from Robbo. This intrigues me, but Robbo couldn’t care less.

And when he bends down to his height and chucks the gun aside - I keep my composure remain unsure of what will happen next! Oh s**t … oh s**t … oh s**t … Robbo has all 4-fingers except the thumb inside the man’s mouth as he stretches it like an elastic band with the center of his back being forced into his knee.

Robbo is taking the man’s head back to its limit! Who’s growling and groaning; and trying to speak all at the same time; “Rrrrockkkoo …” he sounds like a snarling werewolf brought up in Spain. “Whackfackyoudoin!?”

I hang back in the background nearly drawing back my blade when I hear, “I’m seeking some answers to a very messy story tale.” Robbo’s straining those facial muscles and closing his eyes for prayer as he tries to split his mouth open. “Did you kill Vivian?” It comes out through strained teeth and an occupied tongue.

“Fffffckkkk No!” I join in with a confused glare at them both. So, Robbo knows him … and vice-versa. I’m prancing on my feet and thinking to turn this blade on Robbo? He spots my indecisiveness and chins my attention to the gun.

“Point that at him”-

“Who the hell are you to give me orders!? f**k that! How the hell does he know who you are? And is he the man who owns this damn home!?” I’m swirling the handle like my wrist is unscrewing itself from the forearm connection.

“It’s him!” The man groans in protest to that. “He’s the one who I was taken to see when Vivian recruited me inside the Y.O.M wormhole.”

The man now tries to grapple onto the back of Robbo’s neck, but the heels of my foot help to slap his palm on the kitchen floor which I then burrow like it can get lost in the sinking sand. I see that Robbo has now revealed the top of his gums, he won’t be able to take much more of this, “are you telling me that you’re apart of Y.O.M?” I try to keep that heel in check!

“And so are you!” -

“I can’t be …” The front doors kicked in … I’m already heading to that backyard but stop when I see that I’ll have to fight my way out because 4 – shots are fired at both sides of the window - and it isn’t double glazing so it smashes to pieces; I flinch, and see Robbo discharging those finger but not removing his knee, and instead, collecting the sliding glock that reaches him via my nice footie pass that he now points directly into the side of the man’s skull.

There’s three of them; each dressed like our clean-shaven Spanish friend with solid v-neck jumpers colored in a rich navy blue and then normal tapered cargo pants fit for security work. Each darker skinned than him, younger, and obviously unsure of what to do. “How’s it going, ese?” I hadn’t seen that coming, the one who’s in the middle and tucking away his gun is referring to Robbo.

He's got a low fade with thicker sides that he must’ve done himself because it looks uneven at the top. I know the weed smokers when I see them … these 3 enjoy it a little too much judging by the laid-back swagger. I can smell some burning rope mixed with the aromas of outdoor leaves smothered to death in a dead skunk. It’s strong. On another occasion, I’d be inclined to ask who’s your dealer?

“Long time no see Robbo. We thought you were dead bro? All this time man.” The other two keep checking on the gun pointed to the man’s skull. “You know I’m going to need you to talk? I can’t be allowing you to break into Harmone’s house after all this time and not even ask for an invitation? You lost all sense of how s**t works or na?”

“I gotta thank you for giving me his name. I’d forgotten it.”

Harmone is staying very still. No attention has been placed on me yet, which is fine. Gives me time to study the man in the middle. I know him … I surely have seen this dog before on my street pushing a couple of baggies into my hand and then declaring that I don’t pay him until I give Nate a message. Give Nate a message.? Why’s that replaying on the tip of my tongue? What was the message I had to …?

“I hadn’t expected to see you here either, Sia.”

Harmone shoots a wide-eyed glance at me; “that’s Sia!?”

Robbo lets Harmone know that the gun is still there, and then covers his mouth roughly with his entire palm – and that is one big ass hand. So Harmone trying to remove those sausages isn’t happening. “Who gave you permission to talk!? Me and Sia here have the questions!”

I wish I knew Gaelic, I find that language emphasizes a curse word perfectly. He knows me … I sort of have to search through my database of past faces to find him … Robbo wants to shoot Harmone because he’s forcing him to get up by clinging to the collar and shoving the gun straight into his back. A nice little puzzle to contend with. “When did we last meet?” I ask the whole room this, but Mr- I’m-to-cool-for-you-responds, “I use to be the local baggie boy with everything in those bags but weed. I sort of went up in the world, Sia.”

“You can’t be Simian Green?”

“That’s exactly who I am!” He exclaims this loudly. I didn’t mean to offend. But it just can’t be him.

Robbo thrusts Harmone forward a few inches and gets control of the room again. “What are you doing out here Simian?”

“The same thing you used to do … finding some work to pay the bills. My two cousins always come along for the ride.” He thumbs-out the two silent observers who can’t be passed 18-years old with their heads shaped like blown up balloons and lips that seem accustomed to keeping sealed when around Simian. They could blend in with the bland gray of the kitchen wall.

“Then … then Nate must be with you?” I only hope he isn’t. My reason remains clear when Simian opens his mouth next.

“Nate’s assumed dead.”

Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. “Your joking!” I make it seem like I’m reasonably upset. It works. But the situation doesn’t call for any compassion.

“I need Robbo to let go of Harmone, and then we can sort this out and conclude on what to do next?”

“You work … for him?” Robbo asks this with a well behaved Harmone who’s gone painfully quiet again. I catch him side-eyeing me.

“My job is to protect him”-

“Like a handler?” I want to confirm something else.

“Yes. Like a handler.” Another front seat ticket for me. I’m getting it. It’s coming. That puzzling background is starting to shed some clarity.

“Vivian had a handler, right?” Harmone whinges underneath Robbo’s palm. “Let him speak Robbo, he wants to say something.” He ignores me. “We need information.” He wants to shoot. “Let’s not think of murdering anybody just yet. We don’t need to be wrapped up in this case that they’re trying to re-colour.”

Robbo’s hand slips off Harmone’s mouth, but the gun raises to the back of his skull. “Talk then. Let us know what happened?” My blade shows some silver to assist with the gun aimed at him.

Harmone’s accent is strong, “Y.O.M happened. If you came this far you must know that by now, Sia?” He checks inside his gums for any damage from those fingers. “And to you, Robbo, why chase a dead fish? Vivian broke the oath and claimed sanctuary in the very city that wanted him dead. You have that gun pointed at me when I was always the one who let you sleep the night when you had nowhere to go.”

“Why did he need to claim sanctuary? Robbo walks a step closer. Simian and his posse do the same. I’m the only one who’s on the right-side of all this having to watch everybody’s movements: even Robbo’s. And a few more paces would have everybody in the center of the kitchen. I try not to hit the kitchen table behind me.

“The oath. He broke it.”

“What oath” –

I recall the oath for Robbo to remember, ““I earnestly declare, that by raising my hand to that bastard flag and swearing on a bible written by Henry the bulldog, that whatever is agreed, discussed, ordered, or promised, will be taken with the notion that if failed, will lead to an untimely death.”

Harmone nods to my accurate take on that. I only embellished the Henry the Bulldog part to resound with the image of Sidney’s dad when I saw him. “He broke the promise and order factors of that oath. And as one of the three acting lieutenants, he had a duty to see it through, right to the end.”

“But you were in charge, Harmone.” Robbo needs to steady that gun. Harmone looks ready to charge it out his hand with a bullish run for his middle. I start making my way over to see that he leaves back that bravado.

“You two have come here at a bad time.” Simian and his cousins confidently walk to stand next to Harmone. He seems like a man who’s found his mojo again.

“I know. Another reunion is meant to take place tomorrow.”-

Harmone is shocked, “how do you know this?” He outstretches his arms like wings that hustle the 3-boys back and closer to the kitchen door. “

“Your calendars make it pretty obvious of a recurring trend out here. I expect quite a few Y.O.M personal will be here at your home? Talking very much about the murder of Vivian. I settle my eyes on Simian, “you’re a better handler than Elisha was. This one is still alive and kicking.”

“And he’ll stay that way.” Simian seems confident. I think I need a little more to work with.

“How are we going to end this?”

“The only choice we have is to kill you!”

“Let us go, and we’ll do things quietly.”

Simian and his cousins overtake Harmone to stand in front of him. “Sia, you know much girl. With you even being in this house with Robbo is a no-no-no. Y.O.M only allow those who have made the oath to step through these doors. And with you uncovering all this …

Robbo fires a shot that hits the wall and sends 4 – heads to look back at it. “I came here to find some answers. You ain’t giving me enough. Viv was crooked, I get it. But to be murdered has gone too far to what I thought happened out here. I need to know what it was … or else I’m killing you four dead.”

“You don’t want us to be shooting any more bullets in this house, Robbo. That’s already going to get you whacked to death! I say, you both put down your s**t and take a seat with me and my cousins in there. Maybe we can work something out and clear this mess up?”

“No!” Robbo is shaking. He got there with the no first. I wasn’t going to let Simian have that either. “I can’t rest until I find out why he was killed. I’m still with Y.O.M., even if I’ve been inactive with any responsibilities. I deserve to have an answer.”

Simian and his cousins bravely bad-boy-strolled over to Robbo and me, “the only answer you’ll have, is the sound of me pummelling you to death! And I won't hold back.”