Not a key to the kingdom
Sep. 19th, 2003 10:17 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
jenboo.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionbut something almost as precious to some people.
928 words Edited to remove one contradictory sentence that kept really bothering me, so it's 911 words now.
A Little Bit of Home
by JennyB.
I sat in my office staring at the wood paneling as I hung up the phone. Another phone call from the Big Man telling me what a good job I’m doing. I was getting good at faking it when he gave me a pat on the back. I wanted nothing more than to put the bastard behind bars and get the hell home. Fourteen months already of doing this job. I was so ready to go home, but there was no end in sight.
Still, the fleeting, thought of Chicago and my house and Benny warmed me enough to make the cold mantle of Armando Langostini lift enough that I could smile and look something like the old Ray Vecchio.
A perfunctory knock on my door prevented the look from sticking around, which probably wasn’t a bad thing. I’d wiped away the Ray Vecchio smile before my assistant, Johnny, peeked through my partially open office door.
“Hey, Boss, this just came for you,” he announced, indicating a medium-sized bubble envelope in his hand.
“Who brought it?”
“Courier.”
“Did you open it?”
“No. Guy said only you could open it.”
Great. Someone had it in for me and my assistant wasn’t smart enough to give it to my bodyguard to check out first. Why was this my life? Well, if Johnny had a death wish, it wasn’t my fault.
“Do me a favor, Johnny. Open the envelope. Over there.” I pointed to the opposite side of the room and then headed for the little executive bathroom on the back corner of my office. I went in and shut the paneled rosewood door with the steel core and waited. Counted to thirty. Counted to thirty again.
“Johnny?”
“Yeah, Boss. There’s a letter for you. Doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with it. There’s a key inside, but I don’t know what for. Looks like it might be a car key.”
I came out of the bathroom and made a show of airing my hands like I’d just washed them. Spotting the key sitting on the surface of my desk, I recognized it immediately.
“Johnny, what did the courier look like?”
“Average height, dark hair, kind of a pretty boy. Your type. He said he couldn’t wait for you to be available, had other deliveries. You want I should find him?”
“Nah, thanks, Johnny. You can go now.”
Johnny left, closing the door behind him, and I stood alone, staring at the slit-open envelope and a silver key shining against the black of the desk blotter. I pulled the single sheet of plain notepaper out of the envelope and started to read, my whole body tingling.
Dear Mr. Langostini,
Enclosed you will find the key to your most prized possession. It is safely stored away for your return. It is not quite the same as it used to be, but rest assured it is in mint condition.
Personally, may I say that I was sorry to see your business take you from Chicago, but I understand that you must go where your employers need you.
I laid the cool key in the palm of my hand and tossed into the air a couple of times. Something had happened to the Riv (again) and they’d found a new one to replace it. Probably had it in storage to make sure nothing happened to it.
When you return, we will be waiting for you. We have much to talk about. I’m looking forward to the conversation. I suspect it will be a positive one.
Meanwhile, I have faith that you will remain in good health.
Best Regards,
Billy Bob’s Used Automobiles
I should have felt sad, but to tell the truth, I felt giddy. Benny had been here. I couldn’t see him, it’d be too dangerous, but he’d been here. I was sure of it. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but leave it to Benny. He brought proof that I was going to make it back. This was proof that Benny wanted me to come back and that both he and my gorgeous hunk of Buick were going to be there.
My hands shook a little as I unhooked the clasp on the chain that held Armando’s crucifix. It was a pretty sturdy chain, so it could handle the extra weight. I slipped the chain through the hole in the top of the key and let it slide down to nestle against the symbol of God. It wouldn’t lay flat against my chest; I’d have to get something else to put it on there long term, but for now it was there. A little bit of Chicago was right here in Las Vegas with me. I didn’t want to know how Benny found out where I was or how he was able to get this to me. He was a resourceful guy.
“Boss? Carlo Marzano is here to see you.”
I jumped at the sound of my assistant’s voice and thanked God that the door was closed between Johnny and me. Carlo was here to report on a hit. I sighed and put my right hand to my chest, sliding a finger into a gap in my button-up shirt and touching the key to my latest 1971 Buick Riviera. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and felt the cold of Armando Langostini settle over me again. I might be going home someday, but right now, I had a job to do.
928 words Edited to remove one contradictory sentence that kept really bothering me, so it's 911 words now.
A Little Bit of Home
by JennyB.
I sat in my office staring at the wood paneling as I hung up the phone. Another phone call from the Big Man telling me what a good job I’m doing. I was getting good at faking it when he gave me a pat on the back. I wanted nothing more than to put the bastard behind bars and get the hell home. Fourteen months already of doing this job. I was so ready to go home, but there was no end in sight.
Still, the fleeting, thought of Chicago and my house and Benny warmed me enough to make the cold mantle of Armando Langostini lift enough that I could smile and look something like the old Ray Vecchio.
A perfunctory knock on my door prevented the look from sticking around, which probably wasn’t a bad thing. I’d wiped away the Ray Vecchio smile before my assistant, Johnny, peeked through my partially open office door.
“Hey, Boss, this just came for you,” he announced, indicating a medium-sized bubble envelope in his hand.
“Who brought it?”
“Courier.”
“Did you open it?”
“No. Guy said only you could open it.”
Great. Someone had it in for me and my assistant wasn’t smart enough to give it to my bodyguard to check out first. Why was this my life? Well, if Johnny had a death wish, it wasn’t my fault.
“Do me a favor, Johnny. Open the envelope. Over there.” I pointed to the opposite side of the room and then headed for the little executive bathroom on the back corner of my office. I went in and shut the paneled rosewood door with the steel core and waited. Counted to thirty. Counted to thirty again.
“Johnny?”
“Yeah, Boss. There’s a letter for you. Doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with it. There’s a key inside, but I don’t know what for. Looks like it might be a car key.”
I came out of the bathroom and made a show of airing my hands like I’d just washed them. Spotting the key sitting on the surface of my desk, I recognized it immediately.
“Johnny, what did the courier look like?”
“Average height, dark hair, kind of a pretty boy. Your type. He said he couldn’t wait for you to be available, had other deliveries. You want I should find him?”
“Nah, thanks, Johnny. You can go now.”
Johnny left, closing the door behind him, and I stood alone, staring at the slit-open envelope and a silver key shining against the black of the desk blotter. I pulled the single sheet of plain notepaper out of the envelope and started to read, my whole body tingling.
Dear Mr. Langostini,
Enclosed you will find the key to your most prized possession. It is safely stored away for your return. It is not quite the same as it used to be, but rest assured it is in mint condition.
Personally, may I say that I was sorry to see your business take you from Chicago, but I understand that you must go where your employers need you.
I laid the cool key in the palm of my hand and tossed into the air a couple of times. Something had happened to the Riv (again) and they’d found a new one to replace it. Probably had it in storage to make sure nothing happened to it.
When you return, we will be waiting for you. We have much to talk about. I’m looking forward to the conversation. I suspect it will be a positive one.
Meanwhile, I have faith that you will remain in good health.
Best Regards,
Billy Bob’s Used Automobiles
I should have felt sad, but to tell the truth, I felt giddy. Benny had been here. I couldn’t see him, it’d be too dangerous, but he’d been here. I was sure of it. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but leave it to Benny. He brought proof that I was going to make it back. This was proof that Benny wanted me to come back and that both he and my gorgeous hunk of Buick were going to be there.
My hands shook a little as I unhooked the clasp on the chain that held Armando’s crucifix. It was a pretty sturdy chain, so it could handle the extra weight. I slipped the chain through the hole in the top of the key and let it slide down to nestle against the symbol of God. It wouldn’t lay flat against my chest; I’d have to get something else to put it on there long term, but for now it was there. A little bit of Chicago was right here in Las Vegas with me. I didn’t want to know how Benny found out where I was or how he was able to get this to me. He was a resourceful guy.
“Boss? Carlo Marzano is here to see you.”
I jumped at the sound of my assistant’s voice and thanked God that the door was closed between Johnny and me. Carlo was here to report on a hit. I sighed and put my right hand to my chest, sliding a finger into a gap in my button-up shirt and touching the key to my latest 1971 Buick Riviera. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and felt the cold of Armando Langostini settle over me again. I might be going home someday, but right now, I had a job to do.
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Date: 2003-09-21 04:43 am (UTC)Thank you!!! :o)
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Date: 2003-09-20 11:34 am (UTC)wonderful story...
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Date: 2003-09-22 08:25 pm (UTC)Perfect structure: great amalgum of Ray's snarky bad mood, and Armando's coldness.
And, mmm, nice description of Benny: "Average height, dark hair, kind of a pretty boy. Your type.
Loved the "your type", especially.
This is such a lovely, fine glimpse of Ray in Vegas. It's a difficult thing to catch, this moment between, and you do it perfectly. Very, very nice.