Oh man. I don’t think “yowzers” can even come close to bringing this past week into perspective. Full disclosure: I live in Idaho. My wife and I adopted a kid from Vietnam, and when he started school he was regarded by his classmates as one of the Mexican kids because his hair was black. When Covid-19 first started to make headlines and our son’s school was about to transition on-line, a fellow classmate connected him to the “Chinese virus,” you know, because clearly he’s Chinese. Hey, at least they’re getting warmer.
All of this to say Idaho isn’t exactly a racially diverse place. And I grew up in Texas. It wasn’t until I watched Easy Rider as a teenager that I realized how messed up my heritage was. Actually it was the director’s comments about filming Easy Rider that shook me to my core. Dennis Hopper, not exactly the epitome of calculated rationality, spoke about how they filmed almost all of Easy Rider along the actual route from California to New Orleans. Their hippy-hair flying, chopper-riding, pot-smoking, film-making genius made an abrupt halt at the Texas border, where they promptly went around the state to New Orleans so they could finish the film. Their reasoning was simple. They didn’t want to die.
Even these drug-addled movie stars knew that riding through Texas “as-is” would result in around a 92.5% chance of a brutal beating if not worse. The year was 1969. I wouldn’t be born until 1974, but nothing changed during those years. And as it turns out, nothing has changed all that much since.
But hey, I’m a storyteller. My thing is creating believable characters who generate empathy in the eyes of the reader. The thing is, the crux of our current (and long-standing) national crisis is (and always has been) a lack of empathy.
em·pa·thy | \ ˈem-pə-thē \ : Empathy is the capacity to understand or feel what another person is experiencing from within their frame of reference, that is, the capacity to place oneself in another's position.
A couple of times this last week I found myself chauffeuring my kids around town. Since I tend to listen to news on the radio, the matter of George Floyd’s death and the related protests came up. Understandably my kids had questions. I tried to answer them the best I could. Whenever one of their responses was something like, “That was stupid,” or “What an idiot,” I cautioned them to try to see every perspective and not to judge out of anger and hatred when compassion/empathy is more appropriate.
In the end, everything always comes back to Yoda. As the small, green Jedi Master is oft to say, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” In this matter, Yoda could not be more insightful or more relevant. My final words to my children were to not underestimate the power of the dark side, because these are dark days indeed.
At the Desk This Week
I’m chugging away at Episode 1 of Season 3 of The Green Ones, two weeks in a row! I’m hoping to wrap up the first draft (or get close) this next week. This week I put Calli in more jeopardy. Now I just gotta figure out a way to get her out of it. The pressure is on! But this is the kind of pressure I love. I really want the themes of this first episode to be loneliness and the temptation to be lulled into living a lie because the lie is easier than the truth. If there is a moment that the reader wonders whether or not Calli will make the right decision, then I will have done my job. Then I’ll pull her out of the deep water for a breath before dunking her back under. (I’m such a jerk!)
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Don’t miss this group promotion! They’re a good lot of fun reads.
PS. BTW, Death Donor, the technothriller I just told you about where scientists invent a cure for aging, but there’s a catch, it takes a life to give a life, and only the rich can afford immortality, just launched on Amazon.
The author, Matt Ward, is running a 99 cent launch promo for the 1st two weeks (6/1-6/15). Just thought you might like to know as it’s a great deal and a lot of you grabbed the 7 chapter sample excerpt last week.
Outburst: Ep.4, Scene 10 — Ep.5, Scene 4
[Click here to start at the beginning.]
The shock is brief. “The queen,” I whisper.
“If that is what you insist on calling her.” Centavo stops beneath the arched entrance. “Her name is Citlali, although you would be wise not to address her as such.”
I stop a meter shy of the wall. “Why not use the underground entrance? I mean, isn’t that what it’s for?”
“She controls its usage. That is the arrangement. Only scheduled visits enter that way, and ours is not scheduled.”
“Even when it comes to you?”
“Especially when it comes to me.”
I attempt to slow my breathing. “But through there?” I try to block out the images from earlier. “Twice in the same day?”
He places one hand on the lever and beckons me with the other. “I can assure you, this time will be different. Unlike Yetic, we are not here to play. No one inside will be harmed.”
Reluctantly, I relent. Despite the horror I know to be inside the Shadows, I’m curious to meet the queen again—Citlali. Star. I can’t think of a stranger place to find a star. The name is one I wished my parents had given me instead of Calli, the common term for house or home. Citlali has such a pleasant ring compared to Calli.
I also remember how reticent Yetic had been about the connection between the old man and the queen. She had gone nuts at the mention of Huatiani. I can’t wait to see what happens when Centavo stops in uninvited.
“I apologize, this will require physical touch.” Centavo’s hand remains outstretched.
I breathe deeply and grasp it.
“Normally, I would suggest keeping your eyes closed. It makes the experience less disorienting.” Centavo wraps his arm around my waist. “But I suppose you wouldn’t listen.”
“You’re catching on.”
He shakes his head. “Do try to remain silent.”
Before I can pop off another snide remark, the breath is sucked out of me. The sights and sounds of a sleeping New Teo hiccup. Dangling and nearly weightless, I feel only a slight tug at my waist. As I struggle to breathe, my surroundings blur together with darkness and the occasional flash of forest swimming in a green glow.
The rhythm feels like clipping across rough seas at unimaginable speeds. Suddenly, the bubble bursts. I drop to the forest floor on hands and knees. I try to stand, but the green-lit forest canopy is spinning. Rolling onto my back, I focus on Centavo standing above me.
He kneels down and offers his hand. “Again, I would normally suggest one refrain from being offensive around Citlali. Seeing how the two of you have already met, and you’re still alive, she must like you. Perhaps it’s best to be yourself.”
On my feet, I brush away pine needles.
Centavo continues in a mumble, loud enough for me to get the hint. “God willing, no one will get hurt.”
As soon as the spinning stops, I recognize the cave entrance. It appears we’re alone. “What exactly is your relationship with the queen, with Citlali?”
“Complicated.” He points with his chin and dims his green glow to a slight flicker.
I turn in time to see the queen emerge from the mouth of the cave. In the dark of night, her skin swims with green luminescence more visibly than during the day. But her shade of green is so dark it barely lights the ground in front of her.
She stops several meters away. “I was just about to leave for the evening’s hunt. I never expected such a prize right at my doorstep.” Centavo starts to speak, but the queen cuts him off. She looks straight at Centavo even though addressing me. “Let me guess. Father Huehue found out about your little visit to our forest and wants you to apologize. Raise them up to follow the straight path. Such a dutiful daddy right from the start.”
“Enough.” Pushing me forward, Centavo lowers his voice and speaks to me. “Go on, show her.”
I split the distance between the two immortals. As I stop, I turn my head for the queen to see the ragged stubble that used to be my braid.
Her brilliance swells until it releases in a puff. “How?”
Centavo responds, “Huatiani executed his verdict.”
The queen stomps her foot, sending a ripple through the earth. Her glowing, mottled flesh roils like soup over a fire. “He should not be allowed to live.”
Centavo says, “It is as you wish.”
“What?” Citlali steps forward. “Don’t play games with me. You haven’t the totoltetls to kill—”
“It wasn’t me,” Centavo sighs.
“Who else could—”
“The boy.”
“Impossible.”
“You met him, did you not?”
Citlali nods. “He has power, but not the will.”
Centavo strides forward and places a hand to the back of my head. “He was attempting to stop this.”
“Siblings,” Citlali exhales through gritted teeth.
There is a long silence, as if the fact Olin and I are brother and sister should explain the deepest mysteries of the universe if only we take time to ponder the connection.
Citlali breaks the silence, “Certainly you didn’t come all this way just to brighten my mood with the best news I’ve heard in years.”
“As you can imagine, recent events require I leave the city.”
“You double my joy. Could this evening get any better?”
Centavo’s subtle green glow pulses bright before shrinking again. “I realize I have wronged you. I am trying to correct the mistakes of my past. Why must you allow bitterness to rule your heart?”
“You have done nothing except grovel and lecture. How does that make up for abandoning me?” Citlali’s skin flares with tongues of dark, green fire. I back away from both of them.
Centavo raises his voice, “You would not listen. Not now or when you were little!”
“Listen to who? A stranger intent on kidnapping me, taking me from everything and everyone I loved? And to do what? Train me like you did my brother?”
“Enough!” Centavo rips his arms from his sides. Slashing them downward, he directs a blinding ball of light into the ground.
The shockwave tosses me backward in a puff of pulverized earth. Lying on my back, I hear both Citlali and Centavo breathing heavy. I sit up, and the two of them are hovering over a small crater, face to face.
“You are right. I did not come here to convey good news, or even to say goodbye.” Centavo points toward me. “I came here for the girl.”
“Am I to adopt your failed projects?”
I say, “I’m not a—” both of them shush me with piercing glares.
Centavo continues after regaining his composure, “She is not a project. And she certainly has not failed.”
The queen’s voice assumes a hushed wonder. “You want me to restore her braid.”
“Think, Citlali,” Centavo says.
The queen’s glow intensifies at the use of her name.
Centavo ignores it. “Think of what she and her brother have accomplished already. But they must remain together.”
“Masa? You would have them register? You, of all people?”
Centavo nods. “It is the only way.”
“So this is how you plan on executing your revenge? By preying on ignorant children?”
Centavo shakes his head. “You label it thus, because revenge is all your heart can feel.”
During the silence, I stand and walk to the edge of the crater.
The queen replies, “You are wrong, Huehue. I no longer have a heart, thanks to men like you. Does the girl even know who you are?”
Centavo opens his mouth to speak.
The queen cuts him off. “It doesn’t matter.” For the first time, Citlali looks me in the eyes. She extends an arm. I lift from the ground and float toward her.
After a small hitch in my breathing, I steady myself for whatever is to result. The last twenty-four hours have brought both high and terrible low. There is nothing else this immortal woman can do to harm me. Without a braid, my death sentence is pronounced.
If this dark star, queen of the twitchers, can perform what Centavo has promised, I will gratefully accept my indebtedness, along with whatever unsavory intent they have for me. Olin fears being transformed into a monster. Monsters are all I see. If this is what it takes to protect my brother, so be it.
I stop directly in front of the queen. From this close, even her eyes swim with luminescent torrents of green and black.
She places a hand on the top of my head. “With this braid you must promise to protect your brother and anyone else under your watch.”
I narrow my eyes and exhale the words from the depth of my soul, “I promise.”
“You cannot know the difficulty of this vow. The time will come when you want nothing more than to betray this moment, or to be freed from its impossible burden.” She pulls me close, until I can smell mushrooms on her breath and see nothing except her molten irises. “When that time comes I want you to remember what you see now.”
A painful burst of static overrides my senses. Terribly vivid images rise out of the confusion. Enveloped, I’m thrust into nightmare after nightmare. The stench of rotting flesh clings to me. Writhing humans in the dying throes of the twitch cry out, reaching for me. The strobing progression freezes on a single face. My fear is overridden with grief—with a longing for the faded young man I hold in my hands.
I know him. I love him more than I could possibly love myself. I watch him blink out behind the dull fog of the twitch. I watch until there is nothing left except a mindless servant, another minion among dozens. He’s no longer the love that completes my heart.
In a crackle of light and sound, I awake. Whisking away tears and blinking in the sudden transition to the present, I see my own face reflected in Citlali’s eyes. “That was you, wasn’t it?” I ask.
“It was, yes. Now it is you. I pray you succeed where I could not.” She turns and walks away.
“Wait!” As I land in the soft bottom of the crater, something slaps my back with a familiar touch and weight. I whisk my hand to the back of my head and run it along the length of my braid. It’s as if it had never gone, and yet the memory of its absence will never fade. I fumble between overwhelming emotions of joy, shock, relief and a lasting grief I cannot shake.
Even if the braid is the same, somehow I know I never will be. Everything has changed. “Thank you.” I call out after Citlali, but she’s already disappeared into her cave.
“Do not thank her.” Centavo grips me with his mind. He lifts me out of the crater and places me next to him. “She is grieving.”
“Why?”
“She knows she has sealed your fate.”
“I don’t understand. She gave me my future back.”
“Restoring your braid required her to imprint her signature onto yours.” Centavo exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose. “She is a part of you now.”
I stare at him while fiddling with the end of my braid. As usual, I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Centavo says, “I apologize. This is a happy moment. Besides, the two of you are so similar, I’m sure you won’t notice any difference.”
“Similar?” I huff. “Me and her?”
Centavo snorts. “Impossible to the end.” He holds out his hand. “Come, my time in New Teo has expired. I’ll drop you outside the gate.”
Before I can ask Centavo about his relationship with Citlali, which is clearly more involved than I had imagined, he whisks me into the floating bubble. The forest blurs and pulses until I feel pavement beneath my feet. Stumbling onto my hands and knees, I squeeze my eyes tight and wait for the world to stop spinning.
Centavo says, “I’ve left all necessary funds with Neca. The four of you can stay at my place tonight. In the morning, Neca will lead you to the address on your new record. Stay there until registration.”
“And where are you going?” I open my eyes, but the world is still topsy-turvy.
“Don’t screw up. You’re in charge now.”
“Like I wasn’t before.” I blink my eyes and stand, the horizon finally leveling. “Centavo?” I scan the darkness in every direction. He’s gone. I roll my eyes. “Always with the mystique.”
Alone in the quiet, I realize I haven’t had a moment to myself since my shower in Immortal City. After everything that’s happened since, I don’t feel like being alone. And I haven’t seen Olin since sunset. I plod toward the abandoned apartment hoping to find him and Zorrah waiting for me.
It’s probably midnight. Despite sleeping for most of the day, I’m exhausted. With every step, I swing my head. The weight of my braid tugs back and forth. Whoever Centavo is, and whatever his motivations, he’s kept his word so far. There’s no reason to doubt I’ll see the old man again. How did he put it to Zorrah? On the other side.
As I enter the abandoned apartment building, a blue flicker of light laps against an interior wall. The light is followed by laughter, both Olin’s and Zorrah’s. The sound soothes every ragged nerve in me.
I stop shy of the room they’re in and lean against the wall. Olin is recounting his story about the time we first found the sink hole at the city dump. His blue light intensifies every time he grows melodramatic—indulging in exaggeration for the sake of story-craft.
He’s good at it, and his gift shines now that he’s got an audience who hasn’t experienced the stories first hand. Zorrah gasps and giggles at all the right moments. I sit, finding myself eager to listen as well.
A deep sense of contentment settles over me. In the next room, two teenagers carry on as if everything in the world were as it should be, laughing and talking about nothing of importance. If this is the payoff for getting my hands dirty, it’s worth it. As long as I’ve got friends and family like these to take care of me, I’ll have the strength to take care of them.
There’s still the matter of Neca stepping so quickly into the cage. But that can wait. Tonight we’ll sleep. Tomorrow we’ll wake up. And day after day, we’ll do it all over again.
END Episode Four
Everything looks brighter on a full stomach and after a full night’s sleep. The ever-present clouds remind me the rainy season is only half spent, but such things won’t matter in the academy. Thirty-two hours after last seeing Centavo, it feels like Olin and I have already begun our new lives.
“I like your new parents,” Neca drops the comment while gazing skyward.
The two of us are waiting for Olin and Zorrah to exit the house listed on my new citizen records as home. “They’re not my parents.”
“Hey, take it while you can. They’ve already given you an allowance.”
“Centavo left that money for our uniforms.”
Neca nods, looking from the sky to his feet. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I’m sorry.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “I know the old man was like a father to you.”
Neca feigns a smile. “He’s gone, not dead. Besides, he left some cryptic directions. I think I could find him,” he breathes deeply, “if I decide to leave.”
It’s my turn to gaze at the sky. “You think you will? I mean, just pack up and leave with no idea what’s out there waiting for you?”
“Sounds kind of romantic doesn’t it?”
“Romantic?” I scoff. “That wasn’t the first word to come to mind, no.”
“And what was that?”
“What?”
“The first word to pop into your ever-churning mind?”
“Reckless. Idiotic. Dangerous. Headless. Axnohtic.”
Neca whistles through his teeth.
“You asked.”
“That was more than the first word.”
“I’m gifted.” I smile.
“So disparaging words come to you all at once?”
“Yep.”
Olin and Zorrah finally emerge from the ground level apartment. Zorrah is waving good-bye to my phony parents, an entire mango clutched in her teeth. The fruit hides half her face. She bites off a chunk as Olin greets Neca.
“Where to now, sis?”
I start walking. “Well, obviously the three of us have had breakfast.” I look at Neca. “You?”
“Oh, I’m not too hungry yet.”
Neca and I exchange a smirk. We’re both wondering how a girl as tiny as Zorrah could finish off so much fruit without getting sick.
Zorrah continues to munch and slurp away at her face-sized mango, missing my subtle hint.
I clear my throat. “You bring any for our guest?”
“Huh?” She lowers the fruit. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and looks from me to Olin to Neca. “It’s just that, I’ve never even touched a whole one before. I still can’t believe your new parents gave it to me.”
“They’re not my parents!” I stamp my bare foot on the pavement.
“Sorry. Umm…” she holds the fruit out. “Anyone have a knife?”
Olin flicks his pocket knife open.
Zorrah snatches it from his hand, slices the fruit in half and expertly carves the uneaten half into a checkerboard on one side while still attached to the skin on the other. She does all this while walking.
“Wow, remind me not to turn my back on you in the kitchen.”
“I like knives. You can do quite a lot in the lab with a good knife.” She smiles shyly, offering the cubed half of mango to Neca.
“You’re too kind.” He receives it with a wink.
Zorrah is directly behind me. I can’t see her face, but I’m sure it’s brighter than the mango skin.
“I suppose there’s still enough time before my fight for such a lavish indulgence. It might just give me a winning edge.”
Mention of the fight extinguishes any and all peace I’ve felt since waking up that morning.
“You gonna watch the fight?” Neca asks the whole group. He’s looking at me.
“I’m going to stop the fight.” I fix him with my gaze.
“Not this again,” Neca shakes his head. “I made a deal with Yetic. A deal that saved your butt, by the way.”
“We could have figured it out without Yetic. Besides, things have changed since then.”
Neca raises a brow. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“You were healthy then.”
“I’m healthy now.”
“Look, I know we can’t reveal the truth of what happened, but you’re not strong enough to fight.”
“Sure I am.” Neca darts out in front of us and jogs backward as we continue toward the market. He nods at me. “You’re strong enough to fight. Zorrah’s strong enough to fight.”
“I meant to win.”
Neca opens his eyes wide, as if this is a revelation. “Aha, well, winning. I don’t have to win. I only promised to fight.”
I shake my head. “Yetic won’t settle for winning. He’s bitter. He wants to hurt you.”
“This may surprise you, Calli Bluehair, but I’ve been hurt before. The last time was by you.” He rubs his jaw on the spot where I waylaid him in the cave a few days earlier.
“This isn’t a joke. You could die!”
“You mean a few years ahead of schedule?”
“Yes!”
“All the more reason to enjoy life while I can. Like right now, I’m going to enjoy this mango that my new best friend, Zorrah, was kind enough to share with me.” He bites off a cube and gives Zorrah another wink.
I open my mouth to argue then decide to pout.
“If you don’t want to watch, you don’t have to.” Still jogging backward, he bites off another cube of mango, chews, and swallows. “I’m sorry to expose you to the ugly truth.”
“What truth is that?”
“Everybody dies, Calli. Even immortals.”
“Not everyone will die today.”
“True.” He scratches his chin, as if deep in thought.
“And most don’t embrace it with such gusto,” I continue to build my case.
“True again.” He chews another cube. “That’s why there’s only one Nightmare Neca.” He shoves the rest of the mango in his mouth at once, juice and pulp squishing out the corners. He chokes out the words, “Race you to the market. Loser buys the next mango.”
Before I can express how ridiculous he looks, he’s gone. Olin and Zorrah nearly knock me down as they race after him. I huff. I’m not settling for some second rate uniform just because I gotta buy mangos around. I know I’m faster than Olin. Even with a head start, those suckers don’t stand a chance.
I’m puffing hard by the time I reach the central market. Zorrah has already located an empty table near a fruit stand. I clasp my hands behind my head and search for the boys. Olin jogs into the market with Neca right behind him, both of them several seconds behind me and Zorrah.
I’m not sure whether this is their idea of impressing us with chivalry, or if Neca is even weaker than I thought. Shaking my head, I decide to join Zorrah rather than wait on the boys. The market is buzzing, due to both the much-awaited cage match today and academy registration tomorrow.
The day before registration has become an unofficial holiday ending with a feast. Some families celebrate their anticipation of great honor, based on the hope their child becomes an ometeotl. Families without a registrant celebrate the fact they aren’t losing a child that year. Still others consider the holiday a solemn affair—a chance for final goodbyes.
For me and Olin, registration is a giant step closer to our future. I plop next to Zorrah. Until a few days ago, I had no one to say goodbye to. I’ve done nothing but face forward since my parent’s death. Now there’s Neca and the awkwardness of unpaid debt.
“Computers, knives, and foot racing.” I smile at Zorrah. “Any other skills you wish to declare? Or will I have to wait and see?”
She shrugs and looks at the table. “I know a shortcut or two, that’s all.”
“Sure.” I wait for her to glance up at me. “Save that line for the boys. They might need it to massage their egos.”
She rolls her eyes. “I bet they think they let us win.”
“Boys.”
“Yes?” Neca strolls up to the table with his arm around Olin’s shoulder.
“Oh nothing, just making an observation.”
Neca and Olin eye us girls with suspicion before rightly deducing they shouldn’t pursue the matter. Neca locates the fruit stand Zorrah has already chosen. “I see we share the same tastes in fresh fruit. Platlali’s is the ripest in New Teo. Should I snag us another mango?” He focuses on me. “Or perhaps a few kiwi?”
Olin makes a sound of disgust at the same time Zorrah squeaks for joy.
“Hmm, a mixed crowd. Olin, you better come with me. We’ll see what the boys can figure out.”
As they walk toward the stand, I stop myself from calculating the expense of three kiwi and the sapote I know Olin will choose. Neca can afford it, and he doesn’t have to worry about saving for the future. If he gets his way, there won’t even be a tomorrow.
My mood sours again. Maybe I should let it go and enjoy the moment. It’s his life. After today I’ll never see him again. I know I shouldn’t care. And yet I do.
Zorrah interrupts my sulking with a contented sigh.
I peek at her through the corner of my eye. She’s staring after the boys, although I can’t tell whether it’s Neca or Olin who fascinates her more. “A centavo for your thoughts.”
“Huh?” She breaks her gaze and promptly blushes. “It’s just that…you all live such interesting lives.” She gestures toward our surroundings. Her eyes are open wide as if it’s her first time to take in the colors and smells and sounds of the market. “What’s it like to live with so much freedom?”
“Freedom?” I furrow my brows.
With sudden intensity she places her hand over mine. “I’ve never even been outside the dome. The lab Centavo found me is the only place I have to myself, and even there I spend part of my time finishing my parents data-entry quota to keep them off my back.”
I shake my head. “I can’t speak for Neca, but Olin and I have spent most of our time scraping together enough to buy our way into the academy.” I snort at the thought. “Funny, none of that amounts to anything now. I suppose it kept us out of trouble, mostly.”
She leans in close. “Olin told me about the Shadows and how you went to,” she looks left and right, lowering her voice to a whisper, “Immortal City.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t everything I dreamed it would be.” The memory of Neca phasing me through the shield dome flicks a switch in me. I determine to accomplish a final goal before registration—saving Neca from himself.
“I can’t even imagine.” Zorrah waits for me to elaborate.
She could prove a valuable ally in hatching my scheme. Without much time until the boys return, I squeeze her hand. “Some other time.”
She deflates.
“First, I need to enlist your help for something really important.”
She perks up again.
“If I were to determine without a doubt that Neca isn’t recuperated enough to step into the cage tonight, would you help me save him?”
She stares at the table. “Well, I guess.” She looks up suddenly. “You don’t really think Yetic would try to kill him?”
“I don’t think he would be adverse to it. There’d be no recourse in the academy.”
Zorrah nods as the boys start back in our direction. “But if he passes the physical, how do you plan on—”
“Physical? Wait, what physical?” I pull her close.
“Standard procedure. Every fighter has to get one the day of a match. The doctor’s report is calculated into the gambling odds.” She fumbles with her hands. “Not that I would know about any of that.”
The boys return with the fruit, ending the conversation. But Zorrah has already given me the key bit of information I lacked.
“Kiwi for the ladies.” Neca holds out a ripe kiwi in each hand.
Zorrah and I politely accept.
“Sapote for the boys. Everyone’s happy.”
Olin plops down next to Zorrah. “You and my sister.” He shakes his head and indicates the kiwi. “How do you get all those little seeds out of your teeth?”
Zorrah’s already skinned a section with her teeth and swallowed her first bite. “You suck em out, like this.” She bares her upper teeth. Biting down on her tongue, she creates a glorious sucking sound loud enough to draw the attention of people a table away.
The rest of us break out in watery-eye laughter. She stops and looks at us in confusion before realizing her faux pas. Shrugging, she takes another bite of the green fruit. After the rest of us recover, we all do the same.
Now that I have a plan in place, I’m able to enjoy the moment—fresh fruit on a warm summer day. Olin and I have been provided for. Registration is only a day away. He and Zorrah can be trusted to pick out uniforms. All I have to do is make sure Neca’s physical reports the truth—that the fight won’t be fair. After the masses get over their disappointment, someone will come up with an alternative. It won’t be the fight of the decade, but there won’t be any riots either.
On cue, Neca pushes back his chair. “Well, as much as I would love to spend the entire day with the three of you, I have some training and whatnot to get ready for the big fight. Maybe we could do a late lunch?” He bats his eyes at me.
Instead of consenting, I push my chair out and stand. “I’m coming with.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He straightens. “It’s just a bunch of signs to form. I mean forms to sign. You know, and some sweaty guy stuff.”
“I’m coming with.”
“There won’t be anything for you to do.”
“You mean other than gaze into your eyes and drool over your body?”
“Well, yeah.” He looks at the others. “There’s always that.”
I roll my eyes. He just can’t help himself. For some reason, I can’t either. “We could stand here arguing,” I shrug. “It won’t change anything except the time.”
“Suit yourself.” He extends his hand, but I refuse it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Neca and I weave our way through the market without a word. More than once, I duck behind him to avoid conversations with loyal clientele about how they’ll never get along without me. Upon exiting the market, our silence grows awkward.
For the first time, Neca is the sullen one.
I begin to suspect he’s on to my intentions. Wanting to extend his life rather than frustrate it, I make the first move. “Thanks for saving us at the warehouse.”
He grunts.
“I’m serious. It means more than I can say.”
He nods slightly, still refusing to look at me.
“I mean, at a time when Yetic turned tail, you risked your life for me and Olin. No audience, no cage.”
He finally looks up, his eyes watery.
I take his hand. “Whatever happens tonight, you showed true courage then.”
“Hey,” he winks, a weak smile on his lips, “it’s all in a day’s work for a chadzitzin psych-fighter.”
I shake my head. “You’ll always be much more than that.”
“I’m a pretty good smuggler too. Not to mention totally hot.”
“Don’t let it go to your head or anything.”
“Oh, I won’t.” He swings my hand in his. “I’m much too much of a realist for that.”
I choke.
“What?”
Recovering, I nod my head vigorously. “Oh, of course, I was just going to say that myself. Neca the realist. Too practical for your own good really. If only I could get you to loosen up.”
We both smile and relax. I close my eyes and enjoy a temporary splash of sunlight as it pours through a gap in the rolling cloud cover. Before we know it, we’ve reached the entrance to the underground.
Neca turns to face me. He holds both of my hands. For a long moment we stand in silence. So much has changed since the last time I stood here. He says, “I’ve already decided this will be my last fight.”
I open my mouth.
He shakes his head and holds a finger to my lips. “I’ve learned almost everything fighting can teach me. This is the perfect way to end this chapter of my life. I need you to understand why. I’ll admit my chances of winning aren’t good. Yetic’s at the top of his game, and Huatiani took more from me than I’ve been able to discover.”
I feel a hot pinch lurking under the surface of my cheeks and at the corners of my eyes. I struggle to hold a steady gaze.
“Losing is the only thing I have left.” He chews the inside of his lip and looks skyward. “It’s the only thing left to learn.”
“Not like this,” I blurt out.
“It’s not your choice to make.”
“But you’re making the wrong one!” I stamp my foot.
He rubs his temples. “It’s one thing to stand down certain defeat spontaneously, when there’s little other choice. I’m glad I stood against Huatiani. I hope I’d do it again. But it’s something else to face defeat willingly, with eyes wide open. I want to know I have the ability to make the right choice in either instance.”
“For what? A verbal agreement Yetic doesn’t have the grace to relinquish?”
He looks me in the eyes. “Your choice is to either accept my decision and accompany me for some dehumanizing procedures you’ll wish you’d never been exposed to, or to say goodbye, Calli Bluehair. These last few days have been interesting, to say the least.” He extends his hand as if to formally grip forearms.
The thought of never seeing Neca again sends shivers throughout my body. “Okay, you win.” I nod my assent. “I won’t bring up the fight.”
“Good.” He offers his hand.
I take it. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to watch.”
“Fair enough.”
Due to so many people taking off work, the underground is busy despite the late hour of the morning. Neca leads me through the crowd until we reach a stairway heading further down.
“The underground has an underground?”
“Sorta. Most of the official business takes place down here. Things are going to be different now that Huemac is running the place.”
“Huemac?”
“He’s been keeping Centavo’s books. You know, taking care of all the seamy details of maintaining a complex criminal organization. With Centavo gone, he’s the natural successor.”
“Hmm, I guess I hadn’t thought of who would take over.” We reach the bottom of the stairs.
Neca leads the way along a lengthy corridor. “Honestly, I don’t think he and Centavo liked each other for a collective minute.”
“How does that work?”
“I think they sorta just fell into an arrangement.”
“That makes no sense.”
Neca shrugs. “Together they consolidated the underground and put a stop to the infighting. I think it was another reason Huatiani looked the other way.”
Briefly, I wonder how much more Neca knows about the relationship between Centavo and the deceased Huatiani. “How are things going to be different now?”
Neca leans close as we pass an open door. “Let’s just say Huemac puts the criminal in criminal organization.”
“Understood.”
“He’s another reason I’m done after tonight. I can’t stomach the thought of my proceeds going to the likes of him.”
“The likes of who?” A familiar voice causes me to flinch.
“Yetic, fancy seeing you here.” I face the turncoat and instantly wish I hadn’t. He’s essentially naked, wearing nothing but a cloth wrapped around his loins.
“Where else would I be on a fight day?” He shrugs. (to be continued…)
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