Devon LaBarg, Loan Shark

Chapter One: Arnie

IT WAS A beautiful day at the packed beach.
It was arguably the worst place to attempt a homicide.
The clouds rolled overhead, but not too thick or too gray or too many. It was the type that made it even nicer, with welcome relief from the relentless sun, but not at all times.
Little children ran around. As soon as they arrived they dominated the water; the adults got the beach, for the most part. Occasionally a little one would whip by, kicking sand up into hair and drinks and earning themselves angry roars. There were many roars from the adults, but mainly roars of laughter as they all talked over top of each other, hoping to make someone laugh to feel important. The sun beat down hard, so the main activities while not fighting with the kids for the adults were a) complaining about the heat but not going for a swim, b) listening and laughing, c) sun-tanning for those who wanted to look like a baked potato but couldn't afford artificial tanning, and for those who weren't driving (unless irresponsible), d) drinking.
Ice-cream vendors were in their glory; disgruntled adults were consistently forking over cash to keep the hungry little animals at bay in the water. But for those who's parents were too stingy to cough up five measly bucks, the children attacked; they wrapped themselves around legs and screeched their ear-piercing battle cries profusely.
" WAAHAHHAHAAAAH!"
The adults retaliated with their words of wisdom - "Shut that kid up!"
The weapon of choice for adults: gloopy, sticky sunscreen that repelled the children from the water for 10 minutes. Weapon of choice for children: grainy sand that must have had some magnetic gravitation towards hair and high-priced drinks. The war raged on throughout the day.
It was noisy and full of distraction and splashing water everywhere, so hard to focus on one event, no reason to do so.
It was arguably the best place to attempt a homicide.
A smile crept across Devon's face, despite the fact his eyes grew more hard and cold than his unusual, light purple eyes had ever been before.
He internally complimented himself on his plan; his boss had not given him any pointers, any tips. This time he constructed it carefully all by himself. It was a milestone in his work, first independent errand; soon he would receive a promotion. Devon was truly happy.
It only shows how confused his moral compass was.
Dev played with the hem of his swimsuit. He closed his eyes and sunk down, leaning on the palm tree behind him. The wide leaves offered protection from sunlight. Dev had run out of sunscreen and was sensitive to burning. He just looked terrible with raw red skin. He visualized what he would do soon, every scenario drilled into his brain.
His watch beeped. Glancing down, Dev saw it was 2:25.
He stood up, stretching his long, slender legs. It was odd to him, wearing a bathing suit on an out-of-office work task. He was used to, well, just a regular suit, not a bathing one. Dev slipped off his Burkenstocks, frowning. He couldn't get them wet, but he didn't want them lost. With a sigh, he tucked them under a small, prickly bush. He'd have to take his chances. Dev quickly scoped the area. Nobody appeared to be paying attention.
Now barefooted, he began to stride towards the boardwalk. Hotel de Playa Blanco.
"I've got not fucking idea what that means," Dev chuckled. It wasn't really funny, but Dev got rather giggly when he was nervous and excited.
He regained his composure as he swung the door open to Hotel de Player Blankoko, or whatever it was called. This would either make it or break it.
"Hello," Dev said to the woman at the front desk, flashing his most dazzling smile, which wasn't that dazzling. It was average. "I need to speak to an Arnie Legast."
"What for?" The woman asked, looking skeptical.
"We came here on a business trip together. I need to talk to him."
"He's not in." I know, Devon thought. "Can I take a note?" The woman continued. All these questions really were getting annoying.
"No, you see, he works at the bank and it's pretty private stuff. Could I leave one in his room? I'll be in and out, real quick. I promise."
"Okay. But..."
"Yes?" Devon asked, his smile melting away like a snowman in the heat.
"What's your name?"
Devon couldn't give her his real name. Luckily, he thought this might come up and he memorized the name of a business partner.
"Larry Shnauze. Fellow employee."
"Room 567, floor 14, here's the key, we'll need it back within 20 minutes, thank you."
"No, thank you," he grinned.
Once he was in the room it was a breeze. He congratulated himself on his smooth talking. Of course, he only lied about his name. Dev was on a business trip and so was Arnie. They were on the same plane; just not the same business trip. And Arnie really did work at the bank. Dev never said he did; but he couldn't go out and say where he worked. That was automatic job loss. And nobody wanted that, or what came with it. Dev loved his job.
Dev scribble a quick note on a paper he had scavenged for, with a complimentary pen from the hotel. Really, what hotel left pens and no paper? Then, he stuck it inside Arnie's laptop - he would check that when he got back. He walked back to the beach, under his tree - where thank god, his Burkenstocks were still there.
"If they were stolen," Dev said with a devilish smile, "I might just have had to kill somebody."
If anyone was paying attention, he thought, which no one was, it must have looked odd when a grown man, sitting alone, erupted in laughter for no apparent reason.
Dev was anxious for Arnie to get back to his room. It seemed time was nearly going backwards; it was only 3:00? There was still 20 minutes until his meeting ended. Then, 10 minutes to get back and find the note. So that would be 3:30? Then the job should be done by what, 4:00?
Dev looked around. It was busy, but not as busy as midday. Damnit! Dev could've buzzed in during the morning.
No, you couldn't have. He would've been out, enjoying the time he had to vacation on this trip. It would've been even less busy than now, and everything would be left to chance, a voice in his head reminded him.
"Thanks," Devon muttered, embarrassed. He was letting the pressure get to him. With everything so controlled, there wasn't room for chance. There couldn't be, because chance would cause disorder. Disorder would destroy the business he worked for. Chance couldn't happen.
Devon was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't realize it was 3:40.
"AUUGHHHH!" Devon yelled, leaping to his feet. Several others nearby screamed, thinking there was a large bug of sorts. A creepy-crawly. No, just realization.
Gaining himself many odd looks, he bolted down the narrow white sand beach. Towards the snack bar. Just in time - just in time for -
For a one-person cheese pizza.
"Extra sauce. No, no pepperoni. No peppers. No mushrooms, no olives, no shrimp, NO ANYTHING BUT EXTRA SAUCE AND CHEESE, GOD DAMNIT MAN, ARE YOU SURE YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? NEED IT SPELT OUT? N-O-T-O-P-P-I-N-G-S!"
A young, short man appeared, and gave Dev a confused look. He took the seat way at the left end of the serving counter - as far away from Devon as possible. Dev swung his legs around his red, cushiony bar stool and stared intently at the man. After a couple awkward minutes of avoiding eye contact, the man gave in. He slid off his seat and walked over.
"Look man, what do you want?"
Devon smiled cheerily. "I wanted you to meet me here. Now I want to talk."
"You that guy who left a note in my computer? Larry Shnauze?"
"The very same."
Arnie looked him up in down, one skeptical eyebrow raised.
"You sure as hell aren't Larry, and I'm tellin' that lady at front desk first thing when I get back that you're-" Arnie stopped dead. "You are?"
"Devon Labarg. I see no reason to lie." Arnie was surprised at how easy it was to get his name.
"Come on, Arnie. Let's take a walk, just you and me."
"Down the beach?"
"Of course."
"Alright."
And so, they walked.
"Arnie, do you know who I am?" Devon asked.
"Devon Labarg," Arnie replied automatically. Dev chuckled at his ignorance.
"No, no. I mean, who I work for. My position." Arnie was puzzled. Of course he didn't know who he was. He had just met him, and quite frankly, he thought that perhaps he didn't have a job; he'd just escaped the loony bin.
The word no was on his lips, he could hear himself saying it, picture the quizzical look of disgust captured on his face -when he realized he did know him.
"Ok." Arnie agreed quietly. The man in dark sunglasses with graying hair handed him a wad of bills.
"If you miss your payments," the man said in a deep, unforgiving voice, "You'll be sorry."
A man back to back with this perpetrator shifted slightly in a way that simultaneously drew attention and revealed the gun in the back of his pants. As Arnie left, he snuck a look back at the armed figure; his unearthly purple eyes stared back into his own.
Arnie was caught off guard by the sudden events playing back in his mind. He stumbled in the sand and fell, his palms meeting the ground. The sand was scorching to the bare skin.
"Yowch!" Arnie yelped, jumping back. A soft laugh, barely audible, escaped from Devon's unmoving lips.
"You okay?"
"Y-yeah," Arnie stuttered, brushing his hands off on his pants.
"So, do you know who I am?" Dev said with a smile, his words undermined by a sharp edge.
"No." Arnie said, stuffing his hands into his jeans.
Devon stopped abruptly, the smile faded.
"Arnie."
"Huh? Oh," he muttered, and hurried back.
"You see, as a child I forgot everything. I had overdue library books, I never had my math set or gym clothes when I needed them but always when I didn't, my big essays were finished weeks early but always forgotten on the hallway table.
"I had a pet hamster. Spots was, of course, spotty. One day, after playing for hours, I put him in and never locked his cage. That night Spots made his grand escape.
"Unfortunately, that included chewing holes in a bag of flour and being eaten by Ruff, the dog we got when I was small. I called him Ruff and apparently it was too adorable to not name him Ruff.
"Anyways, my mother went to make some pancakes the next morning before I woke up. Christmas morning. She dragged me downstairs and screamed at me about the flour that was spilling everywhere and the dog puke. I explained, tearfully, that I accidentally forgot to lock the cage. She made me clean up the puke and flour. Then I had to watch everyone else open presents, because Santa forgot my presents." Dev looked up.
"I don't forget any more."
Arnie avoided eye contact, staring at his feet kicking the sand like a child being scolded.
"Especially not faces."
Arnie looked up, drew a deep breath, and said in a quaking voice, "I forget a lot."
Dev smiled.
"So I'm going to ask you one last time: Do you know who I am?"
"Yes," Arnie mumbled.
"Louder."
"YES." There was a hint of annoyance in Arnie's voice. Dev didn't let his anger show; he needed to stay calm and cool to play this off.
"Who am I?"
"You work for-" Arnie stopped. He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Who do I work for? Didn't catch that," Dev said cheerfully.
"Theloansharks."
"You're mumbling. I don't like mumblers," Devon growled.
"The loan sharks," Arnie said louder, and acting as though it wasn't a phrase that he said but a putrid odour he smelled.
Dev laughed. "That's right! Very good. Now, can you recall what he told you?" He asked, looking not at Arnie but straight ahead.
"Uhm.. I'm sorry, but who's him? I don't know who you'r-" Arnie stopped mid-sentence because he had to. More specifically, because Devon's very large, very strong hand had curled itself around his neck.
"Never ask about who he is, he will never reveal his identity, especially not to a goody-two-shoes who'll run to authorities with his tail between his legs like you!" Dev spat the words like venom.
Red-faced Arnie began to claw at Dev's hand. He waited until his face was purple to let go, dropping Arnie like a used Solo cup at a party. Panting, he massaged his neck. He stood up and began to walk alongside Devon, who was already taking strides away.
"What did he tell you? I swear to God if you try to lie to me again I'll blow your brains out right here, right now."
Arnie gave him a look that said, You're kidding. He didn't utter a sound, though, as actual words could be held against him.
"You think I'm kidding?"
Arnie shook his head furiously.
"Then if you value your life you'll answer the damn question."
"That.. To not miss my payments?"
Dev glared at him. "I want you to be absolutely certain when you tell me. I don't want you asking me questions to answer my questions."
"To not miss my payments."
"What about your payments?"
"He told me not to miss my payments or I'd be sorry."
"Have you missed your payments?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sorry?"
"Yes."
Dev turned on him.
"In the water. Now."
"But - I don't have a bathing suit." It was a lame excuse, and Devon didn't care, Arnie knew.
"I told you to wear one."
"I... Didn't."
Dev looked at him.
"Then go in your underwear."
"What?"
"Did I not tell you that you are not asking questions?"
Reluctantly, Arnie stripped down to reveal - a bathing suit.
"Ah," Devon said. "Let's not lie anymore."
Arnie hung his head.
"I SAID," Dev growled, "Let's not lie anymore."
"Alright."
"Get in the water, now."
As if reading Arnie's mind, Dev spoke again. "And don't even think about running because you will die."
Arnie place his foot in the water and shivered. Florida may been hot, but the water wasn't.
"It's cold," Arnie whined like a little child. He despised himself for acting in such a manner.
"Cold water is the least of your problems."
With Devon no more than a foot behind, Arnie had to go out. Devon was fit; Arnie was fat. Not too fat, but he was getting a spare tire down there. There was no way he could out-swim Dev.
"Here."
After eternity Arnie finally heard the word. He looked back to see the shore was quite far; he didn't know how deep it was, just that he needed to tread water.
"Are you sorry?"
"What do y- oh, yes."
Devon got closer, the waves taking them up and down.
"I thought we weren't going to lie."
"But I am sorry - look where it's gotten me."
Devon made a big show of looking around.
"You're sorry that you got to Florida? I don't think you're sorry enough."
Arnie stayed quiet.
"Let's stay out here until you're sorry. And I don't want to hear anything out of you."
Arnie gulped. He couldn't touch the bottom; he could tread water for 4, maybe 5 minutes, max. And he knew Dev knew. He blocked his way to the shore. After three minutes, Arnie's legs and arms were on fire, he could hardly breathe and he was getting tossed around by waves.
"You sorry yet?"
"Yes," Arnie gasped.
"Good," Dev said. "Now let's contemplate why you missed your second payment of $345."
Arnie wanted to groan but didn't; he still held on to a shred of hope Dev would let him go.
After a minute he held out his arm for Arnie to grab and said, "C'mon, I won't bite."
"But you're a loan shark, and sharks bite," Arnie blurted out.
Devon chuckled.
"Loan sharks. Such an old term. Sharks... Aren't quite right. There are so few deaths caused by sharks each year. But my business? Well, I suppose I'm safe to tell you that many more people die each year. But we still do accept the term sharks. Fierce. Deadly. Don't try and screw us over."
"B-but why do you have kill them? That's a bit harsh."
"I thought in your position you'd agree with anything. That's what most people do. I respect you, Arnie."
Thinking he was maybe, just maybe, pulling himself towards freedom, Arnie continued.
"Respect...  Is for people you would like to be around. You wouldn't want to cut the people you respect out of your life, do you?"
Dev flashed a toothy grin, looking more like a shark than ever to Arnie - granted, he did meet him all of 10 minutes ago.
"Anyways.. We have to be so - harsh, for lack of a better word - because otherwise we get people like you running around, thinking they can skip payments."
"I didn't think - think I could, I just -"
"Didn't have the  money, forgot, got robbed, we've heard all the excuses."
Arnie looked down towards his feet, tinted blueish-greenish in the ocean water.
"I'm afraid I can't let you go without any sort of severe punishment. Now, because I enjoy Batman movies... Exile, or death?"
Oh, Arnie. If he had seen Batman he would know what's coming no matter what.
"Well.. I have a wife. She's due in 7 months.. I need to stick around to see little Marcus or Suzie. Exile."
"Very well. Form of exile - is drowning."
"What? But - I chose exile, not death-"
"Oh, Arnie. If they result in the same punishment, you don't have a choice. I was hoping you'd pick death, and still live in your precious illusion that you had choice what happens."
The beach was still full, as well the water; but not to the point where Devon and Arnie were having a business meeting. The waves bobbed everyone up and down, as they all cheered for the bigger ones that occasionally rolled in.
After the next wave of bigger waves hit and ended, nobody realized that a head of brown hair had disappeared.