Every Man a Menace

Every Man a Menace by Patrick Hoffman Page B

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Authors: Patrick Hoffman
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Crime
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and fed,” he said. “It’s gonna be a long night.”
    On his way upstairs, Raymond walked past a prostitute: a black girl wearing jeans with her hair pulled back. She nodded, and when he passed she called out, “Five-oh.” She thought he was a cop. Normally he would have felt insulted, but he was too preoccupied to care.
    He half expected to see Gloria waiting for him, but there was nobody. The hallway was dark and empty. It smelled dirty, like old cigarette smoke. A handwritten sign had been taped to the door directly across from his own: DON’T BOTHER ME.
    Raymond lay down and tried to clear his head. His socks, damp and itchy, felt dirty on his feet. The muscles of his shoulders wrapped in painfully on themselves. Gloria would be calling any minute now. He closed his eyes and the image of a snake, black and yellow, its tongue hissing out of its mouth, jumped into his mind. When he drifted off he had a short dream about Shadrack burning his hands and holding them up, and yelling. The man’s teeth had turned shiny black. The dream was interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.
    It was Gloria. “Hold on,” she said harshly when Raymond answered. “Are you there?”
    “Yeah, I’m here,” Raymond said, sitting up. He was covered in sweat. His room seemed even smaller; the walls suddenly looked like they’d been painted with dirt. A car horn blared outside.
    “He’ll only do the deal with you,” she said. Raymond shook his head. “Listen to me,” she said. “We called him, and he said the deal was off, unless it was you. He said, ‘I only do it with Raymond Gaspar.’”
    Raymond wondered why the hell Gloria would accept Shadrack’s damn orders. It didn’t make any sense. She told him she’d pick him up at seven that night.
    He ended the call and looked at his hands. “Surprise, surprise,” he said to himself. What would they say at DVI if he came back after a week outside? Well, you can take the prison out the man, but you can’t take the man out the prison. You’re supposed to buy a one-way ticket, not round-trip! Blah, blah, blah. He felt then that life was sitting in dirty rooms being scared all the time. Men would continue to knock on his door while he slept for years to come. Every last one of his mother’s windows would be broken. People all around him would have their teeth kicked in. The world was rotten to its core.
    At two minutes after 7:00 p.m., Gloria texted and said she was there. When Raymond stepped outside he could’ve sworn he saw the same young black guy that had been keeping him up at night walking away from Gloria’s van. He couldn’t tell, though; he didn’t see the man’s face. The van’s back door opened. Raymond walked to it and looked in.
    “Who’s that black dude?” he asked.
    “The black dude?” Gloria said, turning. “He’s asking for change. We told him we didn’t have nothing.” She shrugged.
    There were three men with her, this time. The driver was the same one he’d seen with Gloria before, the man with the mustache. Next to him, in the front seat, sat another Filipino man. Gloria—dressed like she was going to a business meeting: black pantsuit, pearls, heavy makeup—sat inthe middle row. Another man, older than the rest, sat in the very back. Gloria didn’t introduce any of them.
    “Only Raymond,” she said, shaking her head, as he got in, apparently imitating Shadrack. “I’ll only do the deal with Raymond Gaspar.” She scooted over so he could sit next to her. “If it wasn’t for Arthur, I swear to God I would feed Shadrack to the fish.”
    “Where we going?” Raymond asked. The van pulled into traffic. Gloria’s perfume smelled like flowers. He closed his eyes and breathed it in, picturing a different place.
    “We don’t know,” Gloria said. “He said he’d pick you up at a restaurant in Emeryville.”
    “I still don’t understand how this motherfucker gets to set the terms.”
    “He pays a high price,” Gloria said.

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