Chapter 5

Sun was up when Toby came out of his room. On his way to the kitchen, he saw Christina. She was eating some cereal in the living room. Her entangled hair framed her face, and her red eyes bulged out.

"What is it?" He sat down in front of her.

"We have to leave." She put another spoon, full of sugary grains, into her mouth.

"Go where? What's happened?" 

 "We have to leave town, today, tonight. Or they'll kill us." She dropped the spoon into the milk and splashed a few drops around.

"Who wants to kill us? What did you do?" He tapped on her shoulder. 

"I played. I wanted to win big. I met this guy, and I took a loan…"

"And you lost the money," He completed her story. "I thought I was the imbecile around here. I told you don't go to that casino." 

She pointed her finger at him. "Now is not the time for that. We need to run."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. It's your mess; you fix it." He stood up.

 "Don't you get it? They'll kill you. You're my brother. I have no money and I have to run. If I beat it, then they'll come after you. You pay for me."

"I get it perfectly. I'm staying put."

"What is it here that keeps you?"

"Nothing, I just don't want to run around the country with no money and end up sleeping on the sidewalks. Then some dude who hears voices and thinks I stole his favorite cardboard beats me to death with a piece of rock."

"You're staying because of Madeline." She picked up the spoon and waved it at him.

"She is none of your business."

"Do you want to end up in a grave because of a girl? You can't get laid six feet under!"

He went to the kitchen, picked up a juice box from the fridge, and returned to his room. 

"Oi! I was talking to you." She yelled.

But he wasn't in the mood for a fight. He shut the door, looked for his little box, and found it under his bed.

After a minute, the door swung open and Christina burst inside.

"I'm leaving with or….What the hell?" She froze in her place.

Toby had tied a tourniquet around his arm and had a syringe in his hand. A bag of heroin sat in the small box on the nightstand.

"Can't you knock?" He shouted.

"I thought you quit."

He dropped down the syringe and opened the tourniquet. "Like you gave up gambling? If you quit again, it would be try, number four or five?"

"I'm good at gambling."

" Good enough to be trapped by a loan shark? Huh?!"

She blinked a few times and closed the door.

 ***

Christina was watching a documentary about penguins on the flat-screen TV that Claus, the owner, had installed on the diner wall. Something to attract more business.

She had served her few customers and from time to time, glanced at them to see if anybody needed anything. Then her mind returned to her dilemma.

She couldn't run because her stubborn brother wouldn't move. But she couldn't let him pay for her mistake either. 

And is he using again?

Toby had been a junkie on and off for some years. But he was clean for the past six months and now has started again. On the other hand, it wasn't his first time, was it? 

She had decided to give up gambling a few times, but the thrill of winning was so addictive that she always returned to it. Besides, she was good at it, so why bother?

Customers left one by one until Christina was alone in the diner. The clock on the wall showed half-past two. The documentary had finished long ago.

Someone pulled the glass door open and stepped inside.

She looked up, and her hand jumped to her mouth. "Oh!"

Morris was standing in front of her. Jack followed his boss and let go of the door to close on its own.

 "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're not happy to see me," Morris sat at the bar.

"Um, no. Everything's fine." She tried to regain her calm.

 "Two scotches please." He said. 

Christina poured the drinks and tried to keep her hands steady. Morris downed one of them and pulled forward the second glass. All the stools at the bar except the one he had occupied were empty. But Jack was standing behind him. 

No drinks for him and no seats either.

"I believe you owe me fifty grand. Plus twenty-five percent interest, which makes it what?" Morris asked.

"Sixty-two thousand five hundred," Jack answered.

"See? His math is good, but that doesn't keep him from vouching for a waitress with gambling problems who can't pay me back."

 He smacked Jack's mouth with the back of his hand. "Stupid! That's what he is; stupid!" And struck him again. Jack turned red.

"And you lost it all?" Morris continued. 

"Yes." She murmured.

"Such bad luck." He looked at Jack and nodded.

Jack grabbed her and pinned her down on the counter. Their eyes locked for a second. The impact of Morris's hand on his face was still visible, and she saw in his eyes how much he wanted to hurt her. 

A pocket knife appeared in his hand. He pushed its button and a long blade shined in the air. He slowly moved its sharp end toward her eyes. Her pupils widened with terror. She tried to pull back, but he banged her head against the counter and held her down. The thin steel was half an inch away from her cornea. 

Morris finished his drink and slid his stool closer. He put his elbows on the counter and caressed her hair. 

"Fighting old Jack here is a bad idea. After all, you have done to him, he loves to use that knife of his on your eyes very much. Only I stand between you and blindness because I'm a gentleman. You see. I usually give a man a three-day extension. But in your case, since we established that I'm a gentleman, I'll give you a week. After that, you pay your debt with fifty percent interest. Which makes it how much?"

Jack did the math. "Seventy-five grand." 

"Again, good with the numbers, but stupid in any other way. Beats me." Morris looked at him and flashed a smile. "He has this fantasy to go into business for himself and stop working for me. But doesn't have the dough for it. He thinks I don't know about his plans but I do."

Jack's lips tightened even more. He didn't expect this revelation.

"That's why he took a risk on you; a deaf gambler and an amateur for that matter." Morris continued." Somehow that kind of risk beats working for me. Yes, seventy-five grand or you lose an eye. A week more, and you have to pay the actual debt plus seventy-five percent. Yes, I know, Jack; Eighty-seven Gs and a half. You're not the only one who can do math in his head. "

Another smack landed on the back of Jack's head. "Show off!"

The blow moved his hand and the tip of the blade nicked Christina's cheek. She yelped in fear. The warm blood ran down her face and she couldn't take her gaze off the knife. Jack was weary of this cat and mouse game with Morris and didn't care that the knife was almost touching her eyeball.

"Or you lose your other eye. At which point, we're even. But you, being deaf and all, losing your sight completely cuts you off from the world. Perhaps you can touch stuff, or smell them, but that's it." Morris winked at her. "I agree. Technically, you'd still be alive but is it worth it? I mean, living after that? Or should I show you mercy and spare you that misery?"

"I will pay you back. Get that damn knife off my face." She shouted.

"You will?"

"Yes." She yelled again.

"We'll see about that."

He nodded at Jack, and he let go of her. She backtracked a couple of steps and rubbed her eyes with her hands.

"Yes, your eyes are still there. For your own sake, I hope you got the message. By the way…". He pointed his finger at her, "don't think you can run off on me. We're watching you. And even if you get away—which you won't—we'll go after your precious little brother."

"No, I won't run."

So far he had not mentioned the murder in the parking lot. Jack must have kept that part to himself.

Christina glanced at him, but he was looking at his shoes.

 Morris threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. "Keep the change. Save it to pay your debt." 

Laughing, he walked to the door but turned around. "Why don't you sell the house? Or even better, I can take it off your hands, saving you all the real estate drama. And you walk out of this miserable situation unharmed."

He wants to get his hands on a two hundred fifty-thousand dollar property for fifty grand!

"The house is rented. It's not mine." She looked at him and didn't blink.

"See? I tried to help." Morris shrugged and they left the diner.

She crumpled to the floor, held her head in her hands, and screamed.