Chapter 29 HOW DOES 21 FEEL?

Seven years earlier

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

A U R E L I A N O

Definition of Honour: To hold in high esteem.

My Definition: An excuse to enslave a human being.

My appointment with The boss sees me going to a barn on the outskirts of Michigan.

A latino who could pass as a bouncer, stands with arms folded, dark shades over his eyes and a shotgun peeking out from beneath his waist band. He jerks his head towards the door, an indication for me to go in.

I waste no time in doing so.

This time, I get called in straight away into an office. First thing I notice is a man seated behind a desk turned away from me.

I start getting excited as he turns round in his seat to face me.

I'm gonna catch you today, motherfucker.

Once the swivel chair is turned round fully, and I see who it is, my excitement flatlines.

Weasel sits on the chair, wearing a black bowler hat and a black suit, grinning like an idiot on crack for the first time.

"Welcome, Aureliano!" He throws his hands out expansively, his grin dimming into an enigmatic smile.

Alright, now I'm confused.

Where the fuck is The boss?

And why's weasel acting like we're chumps, when just last week I was on the recieving end of his anger?

"Take a seat, buddy!" He waves his hand in the direction of the stool in front of the table.

Naa, bitch, go fuck yourself.

I square my shoulders and gaze at him with a blank expression. "The boss wanted to see me."

"Ah! Yes!" He scratches his head in sudden confusion. His act seemingly genuine, but I'm not buying it.

Fake ass, Davito wanna-be!

"The boss has a job for you. Sadly, he couldn't be here. Business took him away, but he told me to sit in for him, and . . ." He raises a stunted finger in the air. "He said I should inform you it's an honour to have you on board the inner team." He makes a swimming motion with his hand and throws me a smile.

Unfortunately for him, my blank expression sits in place like a wall ---- impenetrable.

His smile wavers and then slithers away completely, changing into the mean smirk I first witnessed on him.

Atta, boy! That's more like it.

"The boss wants you to follow the shipment going to Costa Rica."

Costa, where?

I see where the fuck this is going.

I'm just a slave to them, that is, until they have no use for me anymore.

I don't give a hoot about Costa Rica, but unfortunately for me, I've got to suck it up and take the shit they throw at me till I get out from their bonds of slavery.

So I swallow my upset and remain silent.

Days later, I'm on a ship bound for Costa Rica.

After getting back a week later, I'm set for another trip to Venezuela with a vast shipment.

At this rate, I'd be travelling round the world in thirty days.

The trip to Venezuela is horrible. Checks via sea ports are not as vigorous as by air or land,, so I'm put on a vessel in order to go undetected by police.

The fourteen days spent at sea are hell. From the get go, a storm starts, and the sea becomes choppy, the wind unrestrained. Thought Weasel's threats were finally going to come true and I'd be at the bottom of the sea, singing 'coulda, woulda, shoulda' in the belly of a fish.

Luckily, storm eases out after awhile, and the vessel moves on freely once more. I make the drop and don't stick around to frolick with the women, as I'd have done a year ago. Instead, I follow the ship coming back the same day, while the other men stay back to get their freak on.

Once I get to Michigan in the dead of the night, I head straight for home, with the intention of taking a warm bath and getting some shut eye.

I'm almost dead on my feet as I step into the house, and flick on the switch, when a sudden chorus of cries meet my ears.

"Surprise! Happy birthday!"

I give myself time to adjust to the bright light and stand in shock, as Tracy and a couple of other people stand around dressed up to the nines, all looking excited. They're holding glasses of something that looks suspiciously like Hennessy within it. All around the room, colourful balloons are spread, and a huge placard, reading 'Happy 21st birthday,' hangs from the ceiling.

I see Dipo standing alone at the corner, smiling that strange smile of his. The kind that makes you think he knows something you don't.

I take in everyone's excited expressions, as shock and confusion simultaneously snake their way up my spine.

"Uh . . . is today the 20th of September?" My mouth is suddenly dry.

Tracy steps forward, an odd mixture of worry and irritation beclouding her face.

A rising suspicion suddenly begins to take root in my mind.

This 'pretend' situation going on between us is beginning to look very real.

I hope she's not falling in love with me.

That wasn't part of the plan.

I try to read the expression on her face as she gets closer.

"We discussed this two weeks ago, Aureliano. How could you possibly forget your own birthday?"

After a few seconds of searching her face, I come up with nothing, so I give up and voice out. "Naa, didn't forget it. Only too happy I'm finally going to get some alcohol in my system." The lie springs easily to my lips.

She falls on me immediately, snaking her hands round my neck, and kissing me full on the lips . . . and the truth stares me solidly in the face.

She's either caught feelings for me, or she's a damn good actress. I'm leaning towards the former, 'cause no female can fake the shine in her eyes, the sensual curve of her smile, and the way she keeps pressing her body to my side . . .

Yup! Miss big shot FBI agent is hooked on me, like a junkie is hooked on cocaine.

It's evident in the way she holds on to my arm, and how she moves us from person to person, thanking them for coming, like she's the host of the party. She does most of the talking, but intermittently looks at me, seeking validation, every time she says something.

This saddens me, because I haven't a clue what shape my life is going to turn out to.

But looking on the bright side . . . I'm finally going to get some action tonight.

I get a breather from Tracy and her clingy behaviour. . . finally, and head towards the makeshift bar set in the corner of the tiny sitting room.

Dipo meets me there while I'm mixing some fruit punch I'm willing to bet is laced with weed.

Just the way I like it.

"Hey, Aureliano, how does 21 feel?"

I turn to see him walking towards me holding a glass in his hand. Very sure whatever he's got inside it isn't alcohol.

"Feels like it's kicking my ass, right about now. Salute!" And we clink glasses and throw the drinks down our throats.

I come back up with a released 'ah' exclamation, but Dipo only grins at me, leading me to the claim it indeed was plain juice he's been drinking.

"Let's go dance with some chicks." I say, already moving towards the make shift dance floor where some girls are dancing. Don't know where Tracy found them from, but I'm single and ready to mingle.

As I take three steps forward, Tracy stops me with a shrill call. "Aureliano, wait up.

I hold the groan I was about releasing and turn round, and stare --- right into the eyes of Tracy's uncle.

"Hey Aureliano, remember me?" This time it's a Texan accent that slips past his lips.

We stare each other down. Me wondering how many more characters lie in him, and him . . . well, I don't know what's going through his mind right now and I really don't care. I just want some answers.

"Yeah, I remember you. Care to tell me who you really are?"

"Not here, Aureliano, let's go outside." Tracy takes a hold of my hand and leads me towards the door, her drug Lord uncle or whatever the fuck he is, tailing us closely.

The cold air hits me square in the chest, making me realise Autumn is close by. I hunch over and round up on the man before me. Not mincing any words, I cut to the chase. "So who are you really?

He moves away from me, tucks his hand in his pockets and gazes up at the night sky. His gaze falls and strays in the dim light, taking in some wayward pieces of paper blowing our way. The wind is picking up in earnest now. From the corner of my eyes, I see Tracy tucking some side hair behind her ears.

"You need to be very careful." He turns to me with a grim expression on his face.

"And you need to tell me who the fuck you are." I bunch my fists, as my jaw ticks in anger.

Who the fuck does he think he is, telling me what to do.

"These people won't stop until you're six feet deep under the ground." He continues, as if I hadn't just interrupted him.

Cold chills race up and down my spine at his words. He faces me now, and in the light of a passing vehicle, I see the harsh lines around his eyes --- stress lines. His eyes look tired and red-rimmed, whether from a life of debauchery or otherwise, I can't really tell.

What I can tell, right now, is he looks worried.

Forget that ---- he looks scared shitless.

And then he turns his face away, hunches over and continues talking. "I've had several encounters with the man called The boss, and I can tell you he's no boss, he's just a manipulative son of a gun who'll use you and spit you out when you least expect it." He makes a chopping motion with his hand.

Then he turns to me once more. "You want to know who I am? My name is Bob or Bob the Cat, if you like."

It's takes five seconds for his name to sink in, but once it does, it's seems an electric shock passes through my body.

Bob the cat is a legend.

A huge legend.

A huge, drug legend.

He's a big fucking deal in the drug business.

A drug lord, known for his escapades. At a point in time, it was rumoured he was leaving the drug business and starting a new life. Many other drug lords tried to kill him, because he was too much competition for them, but he always escaped the traps set for him.

He see's the awed expression on my face and his eyes soften. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, Aureliano, I assure you. Who wants to keep living a life on the run, always looking behind your back, second guessing the next person." His words get heated as he gesticulates furiously with his hands. "There's always someone on your tail, even your trusted right hand man. Actually . . ." He puts up a finger to drive home his words. "Your trusted right hand man is always scheming to get you, wanting to take your place, so you've always got to be on your toes." He shakes his head and swats at the air with his left hand. "I needed to dissapear."

He goes ahead to paint a gory picture of how The boss filled his right hand man with illusions of grandeur, telling him he could be the next don if he killed him.

"But God protected me." He makes the sign of the cross and kisses his thumb and forefinger. "I saw him putting a white substance into my tea, but I made him drink it instead." His face takes on a mean look, and he suddenly bends over, spits on the asphalt and steps on it, like he's crushing a bug beneath his feet. "The boss didn't stop there, though." He turns away from me, and I instinctively move closer to him, wanting to hear what he has to say. "He turned the other drug lords on me, and I became a working, breathing victim, thereafter."

Tracy moves in close to him just then, and wraps her arms around him, and he holds her close to him with one arm.

"I'm alive today, because of her." He kisses the top of her head and holds her tight. "I ran to her when things got heated, and she cut me a deal with her boss. Long story short, I'm now in witness protection, all because of The boss. The day you saw me and the other guy, I was actually going for an undercover job. I help Tracy whenever I can, to burst bad guys like me." He sighs heavily and moves away from Tracy. "No one has ever seen The boss. He's that slick. He uses his trusted assistant to go on jobs. That's why he's still alive till today. He's fooled so many people, and they want his head on a platter of ashes --- quote me on that." Then he turns to me fully. "You're our only hope of catching him, but you need to be smart about it. If they catch a whiff of your treachery . . ." He shakes his head sadly.

So, yeah . . .

If you ask me once again how it feels to be twenty one years old today, I'll tell you it feels like a death sentence is hanging over my head.

But just for tonight, I want to tap out and forget everything, 'cause tomorrow . . .

Actually, there might not even be a tommorow for me.

Unfortunately, it's not that easy to forget everything I heard tonight.

The party rounds up soon after ---- for me at least. I'm not just feeling it anymore.

Yeah, Tracy's uncle ---- Bob, the man with nine lives, spoilt it for me.

The next few days sees me being left alone by The boss. Although I still do my usual drop off's with Abdul, but he mostly lets me be.

Found out Roxy went into labour. That's all I know, don't care to know the rest.

I wouldn't even have known this, but Abdul kept yapping about it to the other guys, and . . .

Sometimes --- most times, actually, I think Abdul is smitten with Roxy. But, unfortunately for him, she's carrying another man's baby.

Dipo's to be precise. Poor guy!

So yeah, life is pretty uneventful, except for one thing . . .

Mama got herself a boyfriend ---- hurray! She's been yapping about it non-stop. About how kind and good he is. How much of a church person he is and how he loves God.

So I decide to meet this person.

On her day off work, she cooks dinner and asks me to be there . . . and play nice.

So after a drop off, I get close to the house, only to hear mama's tinkling laughter. As I step through the door, an amazing sight greets me.

Mama is dressed in a figure-hugging dress, and for the first time in probably forever, she has her hair down, and it's so damn long ---- all the way down to her waist. I'm still trailing the length with my eyes and marvelling at how curly it is, when my blood runs cold as I see a man's hand around her waist, playing with the silky tendrils of her hair.

She notices me standing by the door and waves me over with a smile.

"Hola hijo. Viene a saludar." (Hello son, come say hello). She notices the murderous look on my face and begins pleading with me. "Por favor, no me estropees esto, realmente me gusta este ------" (Please, don't spoil this for me, I really like this ---- )

But just before she can finish speaking, the man cuts in. "Y ella también me gusta mucho." (And I really like her too.)

Then he turns round, and my eyes practically round to almost saucers when I see who it is.