Braille stepped out of her grandmothers store, locking the door securely behind her. The hot dry breeze whispered through her dark hair, entangling it around her head. She felt weary, the cold embrace of shame washing over her, flushing her cheeks.
A deep gurgle of an engine growled behind her, furthering the feeling of cold and numbness inside her. She turned carefully, dropping any hint of emotion on her face, and carefully tucked her hair behind her ears.
A brown Cadillac idled on the edge of the worn and cracked sidewalk, its heavily tinted windows reflecting the brightly colored streamers that decorated the outside of the store.
She pulled at the door handle, and sunk inside the dark interior of the car.
Raoul sat in the drivers seat, eyes set with a glare as he pulled a long drag from a cigar.
Braille reached towards his face, and pulled his attention to her, and kissed him in a heated embrace, longing for the bittersweet moment to last.
Raoul pulled away and sighed, tossing the half smoked cigar into an ashtray.
"We are on a fools mission, you are on a fools mission" he glowered. "You are being used, through me"
"We are being used" Braille barked. "It wasn't my bright idea to become involved with Senior Arturo, I don't want to be one of his pawns like you"
Raoul leaned towards the door, and pulled his revolver off his hip and placed it in Braille's lap.
"Arturo thinks that because you are my wife that you are an extension of him.'' he said. "Im sorry my dear''
Raoul cupped his hand under her chin, and kissed her like it was their last, the sweet smell of her intoxicating him.
"Keep that in your purse" he said after he broke away from her lips. "Do what you have to do baby, I promise it will be ok, we will get though this"
Braille spun the cylinder of the revolver, savoring the metallic clicks it made.
"What does Arturo want with that boy?" she asked her young husband.
"I think he is his son, I saw him today, at the house, but he looked like a clueless and scared boy" he answered. "Arturo wants something from him, you can see it in his eyes, its making him mad with impatience"
Braille closed the cylinder of the blued revolver, and stuffed it into her purse.
"So earn the boys trust like you were told" Raoul said sharply. "The sooner this mess is over the sooner we can escape"
Braille sucked her teeth in silent disapproval, and exited the brown Cadillac with haste, giving Raoul one last look of disappointment.
Raoul broke her gaze, and picked up his cigar. He gave it a quick light, and inhaled like it was made of oxygen and he was on the moon.
As soon as Braille shut the door, Raoul shifted the car into drive, and spun away from the little grocery store, leaving his wife in a trail of her own sorrow.
She turned away, and walked slowly down the sidewalk, the setting sun warming her honey-like tanned skin. She got into the car with her Grandmother, who sat waiting patiently with her sewing needle in hand, on the opposite side of the street, and after a moment they too disappeared in a cloud of sandy dust, leaving the narrow street empty of anything but the faint smell of exhaust and an old cuban cigar.
YOU ARE READING
- WhiteBird -
General FictionHighest Rank #1 in Knight Rider #1 in Kitt Casey's only reminder of the only person who ever loved him, is the small tattoo of a white bird on his right wrist. To him it indicates the last remnants of his past, and his only way to escape the tow...
