A break in the deal

With my recent computer problems, limited writing time, and a new-found desire to finish a book I’m working on, I’m suspending the 52 Cards project.  I plan on finishing it eventually, and to that end I’ll list the remaining cards, as they appeared in the shuffled deck back in January (I haven’t looked ahead until tonight).  Some of them might get skipped to if I feel like writing something off my regularly scheduled beaten path.

Remaining cards:

Six of Hearts (I know that it was last week’s, but I don’t want to let it go)

King of Spades (this week’s)

King of Diamonds

Seven of Clubs

King of Hearts

Three of Spades

Six of Spades (part 2 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Eight of Diamonds

Eight of Spades (part 3 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Five of Clubs

Ten of Diamonds

Ten of Hearts

Seven of Hearts

Two of Spades (part 3 of  Two-Island Lake)

Two of Clubs (part 4 of Two-Island Lake)

Nine of Diamonds

Queen of Diamonds

Eight of Hearts

Nine of Spades (part 4 of Inside-Outside Straight)

Ten of Spades (conclusion of Inside-Outside Straight)

Queen of Hearts

Queen of Clubs

[this story is a sequel to Three of Clubs]

Kelvin Nelson’s eyes shot open, largely in part to “Dr. Feelgood” coming out of his BMW’s speakers at a ridiculous volume.  His right hand went right for the volume knob, and a tiny bit of hot coffee splashed out onto his hand.  “Ahhhhhhh…Son of a…” he said as he quickly transitioned his coffee from his left hand to his right hand.  He sat the coffee on the empty passenger seat and ejected the CD from the car’s stereo.  The CD was faded, slightly cracked in spots, and the back was so scratched up it looked like it had been drug behind a car in a long wedding procession.  He carefully slid it behind the sun visor on the passenger side of the car.  He picked up his coffee and carefully backed out of the driveway.  He took a long drink of coffee before placing the travel mug between his knees.  Without looking, he slid a mix CD from behind the driver’s side visor and into the car’s CD player.

###

Kelvin was rubbing his temples as he stared at his nearly finished legal brief.  He thought it was almost finished, but he was having second thoughts.  The buzz of the intercom brought him back from the precipice of powerful second thoughts, if just for a moment.  “Yes Janice?” he said loudly as he turned to the phone.

“Marvin Kelly on line two for you” Janice said.  Her voice was all business, which was his signal to keep it short.  He picked up the handset and pressed the blinking light.

“Marv, why are you calling me at work?”

“Mainly because you have your phone off…again.”

“My phone isn’t off…” Kelvin was feeling around his jacket pocket, but he didn’t feel a phone anywhere.  “Crap, it’s in my car.  That’s on me…but I can’t talk long.  I need to finish this.”

“Look, I have another show booked for us tonight.”

“Marv…I can’t.  We agreed I can’t do this more than two days in a row.”

“There’s a talent scout from Vegas in town tonight.  I had to pull some strings to get us on the bill.  Everyone’s in but you.  We need you…don’t make me beg…”

“All right…all right…” Kelvin could feel his potential headache becoming a reality headache.  His office door opened and his boss poked his head in.  “Look M, I have to go.  I’ll see you when I get home…I promise we can…do that thing…you like tonight.”

“You’re the best Kelvin.  I mean it.  I love you man.”

Kelvin smiled nervously as his  boss smiled at him.  “I love you too” he said before he hung up the phone.

###

Hours passed, and Kelvin’s day became a giant blur.  He had to stay late at work revising his brief, and before he knew it he was running late for the show.  He knew his wife was at a PTA meeting, and his daughter was on a date.  His two sons were at a friends, and he called to tell them to stay as late as they could.  He knew there was one way to save time, but it was risky and dangerous.  It was worth the risk, he told himself as he scrambled to get himself ready for the night’s show.  It was worth the risk he told himself again as he stepped out of the upstairs bathroom.  He had taken just one step into the bedroom when he found himself face to face with his wife Megan.  She had changed into sweatpants and a Skid Row t-shirt, but he had changed as well.  Her jaw dropped as she reached out her arms and touched some stray blonde hairs that were hanging from his wig.  “Kelvin?”  Her voice was shaky and light like a whisper.

“I’m sorry.  I should have told you sooner.”  He glanced at the clock.  His maneuver had bought him time, but it was going to cost him a lot more.  “I’ve been doing this when I said I was working late for the past decade.”

“So…” Megan was still running her hands around his body, which was now in a skimpy pink dress.  “Do you just dress up, or are you…you know…”

“Yeah” Kelvin said as he took Megan’s hands in his.  “I’ve always been curious, but about ten years ago I met somebody who helped me realize who I really am.  I didn’t want to say anything…the kids would be devestaed, and my boss would fire me for sure.  The funny thing is, I’ve seen him at one of my shows.”

“Shows?”

“I’m part of an all…girl…singing group.  We do drag shows at the places in town.  I usually make sure to get dressed there, and have my secretary cover for me.  Tonight’s a special night for Marvin.  He’s really good, and there’s a talent scout from Vegas here.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Megan asked.  Her voice was returning to normal, but there was an emotion behind it that Kelvin couldn’t identify.

“I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you for quite a while.  It just seemed easier to keep up the facade.  I didn’t want to hurt you.  I’m so sorry this is how you found out…”  Megan removed her hands from his hands and put her hands in her hair.  She turned back towards him, still keeping her emotions hard to decipher.

“So…what now?  What about Rochelle, Derrick, and David?”

“I have no idea.  I’m so sorry…” Kelvin started to slouch as he turned back to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to call Marvin and tell him I can’t make it.  I need to fix things here first.”  He spotted the make-up remover, but before he went another step, he felt Megan’s arm grab his.

“No, you go.  Go do your show.  Help your…friend out.  He’s more than a friend though, isn’t he?”  Kelvin could feel tears building up as he nodded yes.  “Go.  I’ll be okay.  I need some time alone to think about things.”

“Are you sure?”

“You go.  Sing your little heart out.  I’ve always known you were a good singer.  Go.  I’ll be all right.”  Megan nodded as he turned and walked towards the bedroom door.  She put her hands on her hips and held in a cry, but as his heels clicked the hallway, she turned and ran to the door.  “Kelivin?” she said as she walked into the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“I…slept with an old boyfriend when I was in Vegas.  I didn’t know how to tell you.  Just…tonight seemed like a good night for confessions.”

Kelvin stopped for a moment, and he shook his head.  “I’m a bit hurt, but I don’t blame you.  Honestly.”

“We can talk about it later.  Go.  Be the queen of the clubs for a night.”

Kelvin waved as he walked down the stairs.  Megan walked back into the bedroom.  She picked up her iPod and put her earbuds in.  She curled up with a pillow and started to cry softly as Skid Row’s “I Remember You” filled her ears.

Queen of Spades

Ms. Lee took one last breath of outside air as she hastily walked through the revolving door.  She was getting used to the smell of hotel lobbies and rooms, but she preferred the smell they had in Japan.  She slowly sipped more coffee as she reached for her back pocket, hoping she hadn’t lost her room key.  “Ms. Lee!” came a voice from the front desk.  She stopped for a moment and looked around, but she didn’t see anyone else in the lobby.

“Me?”

“Room 621?”

“Well, that is me then.  What is it?”  She mentally accounted for the money she had left, and the quickest way to draw her concealed gun.  The clerk looked all of twenty-two years old, with perfect hair and a nervous smile that had her wishing she wouldn’t have to make a scene to get out.

“This came for you a few hours ago.”  The young man slid an envelope across the counter towards her.  She sat her coffee down and looked at the envelope with a mix of confusion, concern, and curiosity.  “Is there something wrong Ms. Lee?”

“No…it’s…well…I didn’t think anyone knew I was staying here.  I just got into town a few days ago.”

“Are you enjoying New York so far?” His question was sincere, and she tried to find the appropriate response.

“It’s a nice place to visit.”  She slid the envelope towards her, and picked it up.  “Thanks” she said as she smiled and took her coffee.  She could feel his stare and smile all the way to the elevator.  She pressed the number six and examined the envelope.  It was addressed to one Brenda Lee at room 621.  The envelope didn’t feel heavy; it almost felt empty.  She stepped out of the elevator and started to shake the envelope.  There was something in it, but not a letter or money.  It sounded like a business card.  Once she was back in her room, she tossed her jacket onto the bed, along with her gun.  She tore open then envelope and reached inside.  She pulled out a card with a black, checker-board like back.  She glanced nervously out the window, then back at the card.  She turned it over, and there she found the queen of spades with some small writing along the white border:

ST LUKE’S CHURCH 1 PM WEAR BLACK

***

She nervously looked at her watch, which read 12:45 PM.  She had been up all night in the city, looking for the kind of work they don’t advertise in the papers.  The church didn’t look too busy, but there was a hearse out front.  She straightened her black jacket, and looked down at her boots.  The knee-high boots weren’t funeral appropriate, but she didn’t have time to go shopping for funeral attire.  She pushed open the main door, and wound her way to the sanctuary.  There weren’t more than thrity people in the pews, and the black casket at the front of the church didn’t have any viewers.  This is a waste of time, or a trap, or both she thought to herself as she started backing out of the church.

“Walk with me.”  The voice was calm and monotone, yet also very forceful.  She turned around, and blocking her exit was a man, who looked no more than six feet tall.  He was wearing a dark grey trench-coat, dark glasses, and what looked like a fake mustache.  His hair was straight out of the Austin Powers wig department, and in his black suit’s front pocket she spotted a playing card turned backwards, revealing the same checkerboard style pattern that was delivered to her earlier.

“Okay” she said, turning around as the man slowly walked with her up the aisle.

“You got my message” he said quietly.

“And yet, for some reason, I’m here.  How did you find me?”

“That’s what I do.  I find people.  I find information.  I find what those who seek are looking for.”

“Did the Shinjo family send you?  Are you some kind of weird bounty hunter?”

“Bounty hunter?  My dear no…nothing of the sort.  I don’t sully myself with that end of the transaction.  I have people for that work.”

“So you’re an information broker.  I probably can’t offer you more than the Shinjo family is offering.  I’ll be lucky if I can keep my hotel room another few days.”

“Maybe if you didn’t stay at expensive hotels all the time.  There were better options in Los Angeles, Dallas, Omaha, Cleveland, Charleston, Dover and New York.”

She glared at the man with the bad disguise with contempt.  “So, you’ve been following me across the country.”

“Yes, along with your weak attempts at finding work.  A lot of American organized crime doesn’t like to cause trouble with their Japanese counterparts, and most don’t seem to be lining up to hire someone with a price on her head.”

Desperate to change the subject, she took the opportunity of being at the front of the church.  “Who’s the funeral for?”

“Esra Palacios.  She was one of my best.  Sadly, she followed a bad hunch and fell in over her head.  I must give the funeral home credit, I didn’t think this would be an open casket.”  She looked at the body in the coffin.  The young woman looked quiet, peaceful, and almost fake.

“So why bring me here?  So you can brag about your network, and how the Shinjo Family is going to take me out once I walk out of this church?”  She was very aware of where her gun was, and she was mentally drawing a map of the street outside for cover and where shots might come from.

“The Shinjo family thought you’d be dead by now.  You’re alone, no friends, no job, no direction…”

“Yeah, well I’ve done alright so far.”  She turned away from the casket and took one step away.

“Have you now?  You should see this.”  She heard the man reaching into his trench-coat, and while her brain told her to leave and not look back, she looked back.  He was holding a blank envelope.  She took it away, and reached inside.  She pulled out a clipped newspaper story about a Japanese man who was found in the bay.  There was another story about a Japanese tourist who was found shot in his motel room in Dallas.  The envelope had at least four more clippings, and all had dates written on them, that were very close to the dates she had been in those cities.  “You see, I’ve had my eye on you since you thinned the Shinjo herd.  When I found out you were crossing the pond, I wanted to hire you.”

“So, you used your organization to protect me, then you offer me a job thinking I’ll be so grateful I’ll just hop right on board.”

“Cynical is no way to go through life.  I failed at my lifetime dream, but now I’m much better off for it.  If you take my offer, the pay will be more than enough, plus I include a luxury apartment for free.  I just ask your complete loyalty and the ability to get what I need, no qualms or questions.”

“What about the Shinjo family?”

“They hired me to find you and bring you in.  I’ll provide them with a reasonable facsimile.”  The man smiled and started walking down the aisle.  She walked behind him, looking at the wide variety of people in attendance.

“Who are these people?”

“Mostly my other employees.  Some are her friends and family.”  They were soon at the back of the church, and the man took a deep breath.  “I need to know now.  Are you in our out?”

She took a deep breath as she looked around the church.  “All right.  I’m in.”

“Good” the man said.  “You should really stop using the name Brenda Lee.  Maybe you can finally start using your real name?  The Shinjo family doesn’t know it.”

“Do you?” She asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“I know many things Mokoto Igawa.”  His smile started to look more sinister with every passing second.

[This wound up being a background story for one of the main characters at my last project, Cliffhanger Theater.  It wasn't what I had in mind, but it was the best idea I had this week.]