Serial

09. Business Partners

     Sundays afternoon rolled throughout Ernesting in a daze. On the West end of the city, some would spend the morning attending prayers, while others would often go out for brunch, or perhaps walk their tiny dogs, dressed in tiny jackets.

      On the East end of the city, the Saturday night party goers had mostly crashed, leaving behind a quiet lull in the otherwise bustling area of the city. It was Sunday afternoons that kids would play out on the streets, chasing the neighbourhood cats and generally getting into mischief, knowing their parents couldn't scold them when they would be in an all day trance.

      The Bloody Phoenix did not see a lot of business on Sunday afternoons. Venice sat at the small desk in the front of the parlour trying to sort out some of the clutter, while Tidus listened to music and went through some of the financial documents in his area of the shop.

      Venice's apartment had long since been emptied of any bodies. She had, as she always did, entrusted the task to Tidus, and didn't ask a single question about it. It would be there when she went to bed in the late evening, then when she woke up it would be gone, and Tidus would have an extra pile of money that would help keep them afloat for a little longer. This money was especially welcomed when they had slow weekends, such as the one of October 27 to 29th, when people spent more time going to Halloween parties in clubs downtown than walking the dive bars in East Ernesting.

      Expecting that Sunday afternoon to be just as dead as the rest of the weekend, it was an utter surprise that at 3:42 the door opened and the little bell above it rang out, alerting the staff of a customer. Venice looked up, lazily, expecting it to be another health inspector or a solicitor, but was instead greeted by a skinny man in a dark pair of jeans and long sleeved shirt. His hair was short and unkempt, poking out beneath a snapback cap that he wore high on his forehead. When he walked into the room, his eyes darted around the shop, resting finally on Venice as he gave a small whistle of appreciation.

      Venice lent forward, letting her cleavage become even more prominent, “Tattoo or piercing?”

      The man seemed to jump out of his trance and looked around the shop again, “Uhh… What do you do?”

      “Tattoos. Tidus does the piercings.” Tidus, having heard his name, quickly peeked his head out from the curtains. The customer glanced him over then fixed his gaze back on to Venice.

      “No. I definitely want you. I mean I definitely want a tattoo. You guys take cash right?”

      Venice smiled and nodded, handing him a blank form. He took a minute to read it over before signing. Then she led him to her plastic covered bed, where he sat and again nervously looked around the room.

      “Your first tattoo?” Venice asked. He didn't appear drunk or high, just nervous.

      “That obvious? My name's Scout by the way.” Scout reached out a hand toward Venice. She looked at it for a moment before politely giving it a gentle shake.

      “Venice.”

      “Like the city? Nice name.” Scout was avidly trying to refrain himself from ogling her body, and instead he darted his eyes across the room, looking at the various drawings and pictures on the wall.

      “So… Scout. What will you be having today?”

      “Uhh… I hadn't really thought about it. I want something cool. You know? Like something different that not everyone has. Did you draw everything on these walls?”

      “Most of them yes. The odd couple are from Tidus.”

      “f**k you're talented!”

      “Do you know where you want your tattoo, Scout?”

      “I was thinking probably my back. I wanted it on my arm but then I'm not ripped like other guys so I think it would just look kind of pathetic. So maybe like my shoulder blade. Hey have you ever done like a grenade or something? That might be cool. I don't know, just give me something that reminds you of me, but liking holding a grenade.”

      Venice looked at him for a second, then gave a polite smile and a small shrug. She spent a couple minutes sketching out something on a piece of paper while Scout waited, rambling on about the random drawings in the room. Finally she finished the drawing, turning it over so Scout could see.

      “f**k yeah!” Scout gave out a loud laugh and took the drawing from her, “This is awesome! Should I take off my shirt now?”

      Venice nodded and began to prepare her ink and needles. Scout laid on the plastic covered bed for about 2 hours as Venice worked on him, letting out the occasional strained groan, but mostly he talked again about random things as they entered his mind. Finally it ended, Venice wrapped him up and gave him the aftercare instructions, which he listened to attentively.

      Venice led him up to the desk at the front, wrote up the bill and handed it to him. Scout pulled out his wallet, stuffed with cash, and took out enough to pay the bill, plus a generous tip. Venice grabbed his arm as he was about to turn to leave, leaning slightly forward again and giving him a small pout.

      “You aren't going to leave so soon are you? We could go have some fun upstairs.” Her pout turned into a devilish grin and she batted her long eyelashes at him. He didn't try to hide his ogling this time, and stared at her with a slack jaw before shaking his head and looking at his watch.

     “f**k girl, you have no idea how much I want to take you up on that offer, but I promised to meet my friend in like 10 minutes and if I'm late he's going to kill me. I gotta go. But damn girl, if it was any other day!” He eyed her over once more as he was half out the door, then turned to his car, got in and started to drive.

      Scout drove to the industrial side of Ernesting, far in the north side of the city. He pulled up to an old brick warehouse, seemingly abandoned, then walked to the backside of the building, carrying a large plastic bin. He went to a door at the back with a cracked window and an old intercom system beside it, and fumbled with the buttons until he heard some crackling from the other end.

      “I'm here let me in.” The other end remained silent.

      “Paco? Seriously dude open up. I got the stuff you wanted.” Scout waited again, but got no response. He let out a sigh then took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He cleared his throat then tried to read it as best as he could, “Ma chapultépec ninaalti.”

      The door buzzed and unlocked. Scout propped it open with one foot, then dragged the plastic bin through before locking it firmly behind him. He then stood in a hallway, long an dimly lit. The walls were covered with graffiti, some having been there for years, while others were special symbols Paco had sprayed on the walls himself.

      Scout walked down the hallway slowly. He had always found it to be eerie, and Paco always told him that the building was haunted with lost nahual. Scout didn’t believe in the spirits, but he couldn't help but feel chills every time he walked down that hall. At the other end of the hall was a door with a reinforced window. It opened as Scout reached for the handle, causing him to jump back and let out a yell.

      Paco stood in the doorway, have covered in shadows. His face and chest were painted in lines and symbols, and he wore an odd costume made primarily of grass and feathers. He scowled at Scout, looking angry and primal.

      “You're late.”

      “Sorry man, lost track of time. They here yet?”

      “No. Bring it down.”

      Scout followed Paco down a long set of stairs, and through the solid wooden door at the bottom, engraved with the words Santa Elena.