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L EVI ARRIVED AT the corner of 5th and Grover around
six o’clock in the evening. He was glad to find a
parking spot but the funky noises his car made on the
way over had dampened his mood. His one decent
outfit — casual slacks and a collared shirt — felt looser
than he’d remembered. It had been in his closet, along
with the red tie around his neck, for the better part of
a decade. But if K.S. wanted him to polish up his look
for this mission, so be it. Levi knew enough to trust
him by now.
It would be an hour until dark and K.S. had given
him no timeline with which to anticipate any action.
Former tasks had sent him to the projects twice, once
to heal a paralyzed girl and again to resurrect a
gunshot victim. This time Levi found himself in a
rather posh neighborhood of hotels and nightclubs. He
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knew, however, that drama could go down anywhere,
even on a ritzy block like this one, so he kept his eyes
watchful. He killed the engine and with a little effort,
rolled down the driver’s side window.
Levi heard slow-moving traffic in the distance and
felt the temperature dropping in tandem with the sun.
He sat, just looking around and observing the
neighborhood, for two hours. More than once he got
out to check the street signs to make sure it was the
right intersection. It was the same thing over and over
— the swanky Fairfield Inn to his left and a nightclub
called The Neon Corner beside it, the two separated by
a small alleyway. To his right were a bookstore and a
long row of boutique shops. Ahead, a thirteen-story
condo rose into the night sky. Rinse and repeat.
His eyes searched the surroundings: a cat yawning
on the sidewalk, two women drinking coffee in front of
the bookstore, well-dressed people filing into the alley
beside the Fairfield Inn. Well-dressed people?
Levi glanced at his tie and apprehended the first
stage of the mission. He hopped out of the car and
crossed the street to the alleyway. Midway down the
alley, he saw that a side door, leading into the Fairfield
Inn, stood open with tuxedo-cloaked gentlemen to
either side of it. Soft jazz music and casual chatter
could be heard inside. Levi acted as if he belonged
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there, even offering a confident nod to the doormen as
he passed through with the crowd.
He entered the grand ballroom of the Fairfield Inn
and turned his sights to the live band first, then to
several clusters of party-goers. He was searching for
anything suspicious, anything that might be cause for
alarm. He scanned the large room and noticed nothing
out of the ordinary. About half of the tables that had
been set up were empty so Levi casually sat down at
one of them and settled a black leather bag he’d
borrowed from Jenny on a neighboring chair. The top
of the lamp rose from the bag once he’d loosened the
slack but no one was paying attention so he didn’t
bother to cover it back up.
He sat patiently, taking stock of the faces around
him. Who were these people and what was going to
happen to them?
He hoped the answer was nothing but if former
missions had taught him anything, it was to expect
craziness. Shootings, explosions… it could be
anything. “Wait a minute,” he told himself. “Did K.S.
tell me to bring the lamp? Wasn’t it just an address
this time?”
“Excuse me, son.”
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Levi turned and saw the wrinkled face of an African-
American man, probably in his late-sixties or early-
seventies. He wore a nice suit and a top hat.
“Hi,” Levi answered back, realizing he might be in the
man’s spot. “Oh, I’m sorry… is this your table? I didn’t
mean to…”
“No, no,” the man answered, laughing. “Lucille’s in
the ladies’ room again and I’m no fan of sitting alone.
Especially not in a place swarming with this many
folks. You get lonely real quick.”
“I understand,” Levi said. “You can have a seat if
you’d like.”
The man smiled and sat down, removing his hat and
placing it on the table. He glanced over at Levi’s bag,
housing the protruding lamp, and said, “A gift for
someone special, I presume?”
Levi nodded. “Very special.”
People didn’t usually approach him the way this man
had. Levi’s mind began to churn and he started to say
something, then stopped. The older man awarded him
with a look of curiosity.
“Can I… do you mind if I ask,” Levi started. “Are
you… is your name K.S.?”
A look of confusion washed over the man’s face. “I
don’t believe so. Last I heard, my name was Clifford.
But I am getting old.”
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Levi felt annoyed that he’d folded his hand so
quickly. Sensing that he had allowed himself to become
distracted, he regained his focus and began to study
the room once more. But he intuited that the man was
still gawking at him so he turned and found that his
suspicions were confirmed.
“I’m terribly sorry,” the older man said, “but since
you went first, I figure I might get to ask a question
too. Would that be all right?”
“Sure,” Levi answered, trying to stay centered.
“Shoot.”
“It’s just… I saw you from over there and thought,
could that be him? So I’m just going to come out with it
and ask: are you the boxer? Levi the Leveler?”
So much for staying centered. Levi lost his focus in
an instant. He was slow to answer. “That’s right. I
mean, I was… in a former life… known by that name.”
The man appeared quite satisfied. “I knew it,” he said
with a roused glare. “Boy, that fight with Junior… that
was something else. Never though anyone could beat
that guy, much less run through him like a chainsaw
through Styrofoam.”
Levi allowed himself to briefly return to that moment
and a grin stretched across his face. “No one was more
surprised than me, Clifford.”
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The old man shook his head, then looked up and
saw his wife motioning to him from across the room.
He casually stood and offered a polite handshake. “It
was a pleasure to meet you, sir. A true pleasure.”
Levi shook his hand and felt a profound sense of
gratitude for the man. “Thank you,” he said. “Thanks
for not asking me about… you know.”
Clifford shrugged as if so say, the past is the past. He
parted with, “None of my business, good sir. None of
mine.” He walked back to his wife, leaving Levi to his
isolated table.
“Guy probably thinks I lost my marbles, sitting here
alone with this friggin’ lamp,” he thought to himself.
An hour passed and Levi began to grow weary.
People ate, people drank, people danced — badly. But
nothing else happened. Thinking whatever catastrophe
he’d been sent here to prevent might’ve already been
extinguished without his aid, Levi set out for his car.
• • •
Levi turned onto 5th Avenue around nine pm and
realized he was hungry. Watching all those people
dining on stuffed shrimp in the ballroom hadn’t
helped. K.S. failed to provide him with an invitation
card for the buffet line so he was left to his glass of
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complimentary water with lemon. His stomach growled
in protest.
A few blocks later, something else growled. Levi saw
smoke coming from under the car’s hood and knew
this was bad — worse than usual. He pulled into a
vacant lot and let the car settle before unlatching the
hood, still burning his hand in the process. Of course,
he didn’t feel it. Thick oil had sprayed the entire
contents of his car’s guts. He expelled a heavy sigh and
slammed the hood closed, then looked around to get
his bearings. “Where am I?” he asked in thought.
“Wherever it is, there’s no way I’m getting back to my
place anytime soon.”
Then it clicked. He saw a diner that he recognized.
He’d sipped orange juice at that very diner the day
after his release. He also knew that meant he was two
miles from Jenny’s place. Giving one more glance
toward his oldest friend, now choking on its own
smoke, he set out on foot for the nearest sanctuary:
Jenny’s apartment.
• • •
Violet wiped the counter with a soapy rag, five
minutes past closing time. Another teenage cashier,
Becky, took to drying the counter after her in order to
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finish the job more quickly. Violet smiled her
appreciation to the girl.
“I like your hair, Violet. It’s really cute.”
“Thanks,” Violet said, trying not to sound too
exhausted. “But cute’s not as fun as sexy, is it?”
Becky grinned along, not sure what she was getting
at. They saw Edward rounding the corner. He offered
them a frustrated eye and headed for the front door.
Before walking out, he turned back toward Violet with
a smirk. “You know, I wasn’t expecting you to show up
today.”
“Why’s that, Eddie?” she asked, mispronouncing his
name on purpose.
“Edward,” he corrected. “And I’m surprised because
I’ve never seen so much waterworks on the first day.
That was brutal.”
Violet prayed for the strength to strangle a grown
man. She looked over at Becky, who tightened her lips
and diverted her eyes.
“You know,” Violet said, “I could’ve used some help
with those girls yesterday. You are the manager and it
was my first day and all.”
She felt her stomach begin to ache. Edward
swaggered up to the counter, arrogance spilling from
his pores.
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“Excuse me, but I did help you. Don’t you remember
me taking over your register while you ran off to cry?
You even ruined one of your work shirts the first day
on the job. And if I didn’t mention it before, that’s
coming out of your check.”
“What’s your problem?” she asked. “I was nothing
but nice to you. And you’ve been so awful.”
“Maybe he’s got a crush on you, Violet,” Becky said,
trying to lighten the mood and ward off any further
aggression on his part.
“A crush on her?” he laughed. “I prefer women, not
girls. I mean, who wears hair feathers at her age?”
“I think it’s cute,” Becky said, sticking up for her new
friend.
“Cute my ass,” he said, eyeballing Violet directly.
“Nothing about you is cute. Not your puppy dog eyes or
your little hair ornaments. I’m so tired of dealing with
dopey chicks who show up here and make me cover for
them because they’re too stupid to manage the
simplest task.”
Becky tossed a nervous look to Violet, who was
trying with tremendous effort to avoid crying in front of
Edward again.
“Here we go…” he said, preempting the tears. “Look, I
don’t hate you, Violet. I just get irritated by girls who
think they deserve special treatment.”
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“I wasn’t asking for special treatment, you cocky
douche bag. I just wanted you to stop making
everything so hard for me.”
“I’m a douche bag?” he said. “Really, Violet? I think
maybe you’re just upset that I don’t want to go out
with you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s right. Just like I also get
upset when I don’t fall down a flight of stairs or get hit
by a moving bus.”
“Be sarcastic all you want, honey. It just makes you
uglier.”
“She’s not ugly!” Becky said. “Stop saying that. Any
guy would be lucky to find a girl as cute, I mean…
sexy, as Violet.”
“Whatever,” he said, turning his back and moving
toward the door.
Violet tried to resist the urge but involuntarily spoke
up. “Whatever is a word people use when they run out
of ways to articulate their thoughts. A bit surprising for
a smart college guy like yourself. And just a heads-up,
genius… girls totally love back fat and acne scars. So I
think you’ve got an exciting future ahead of you.”
“You’re done, skank,” he said. “Don’t bother showing
up tomorrow.”
Edward whipped the door open and stormed out.
Becky gave Violet a cringing smile and said, “Oh, gosh,
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I’m so sorry, Violet. I’ll lock up, don’t worry about it.
You can go any time.”
“Thanks,” Violet said, removing her rubber gloves.
She immediately felt badly for saying such terrible
things to her boss. Deep regret hit her at once. Not
because she wanted to keep her job, but because she
hated being nasty toward anyone, even a guy like
Edward. It was very much unlike her to attack, even
when provoked. She wondered what had leapt into her
and felt both gratified and mortified at the same
moment.
She dried her tears on the way home, wiping them
away with the sleeve of her yellow Taco House shirt.
“Dang,” she thought, “I have to return this tomorrow.”
She considered just tossing it into a booth and running
out before anyone had seen her. The mental image
made her laugh but the levity quickly faded. Violet felt
a twinge of pain in her belly and picked up her speed.
Only a few more blocks… you can do it.
Violet kept the pace brisk but felt a nagging
suspicion that she was being followed. Her eyes darted
around the sidewalks but found no one watching her.
She hugged her torso tightly as she roamed the night,
angry that she’d forgotten to bring her coat to work.
• • •
205The scent of incense permeated Jenny’s apartment.
She was attempting to cover up the aroma of reheated
lasagna, which she’d warmed up for Levi. He
apologized for always popping in so late, and usually
hungry at that, but she dismissed his contriteness
with a gentle smile, putting him at ease. “At least you
showed up wearing a tie,” she’d said.
Jenny invited him to watch TV with her on the couch
and that’s where the two of them sat when they heard
the clamor of a key searching for the right spot. The
door flew open and Violet rushed inside, shivering. She
locked the door, tossed her key onto the kitchen table,
and peeked curiously into the living area. Jenny and
Levi turned her way and she stood cross-armed and
silent for a moment, the expression on her face
unreadable. Violet searched them with her eyes, her
mind troubled.
“Everything okay?” Jenny asked.
“What’s he doing here?” Violet asked back, her eyes
flicking to Levi.
He was taken aback by Violet’s irregular tone.
“Levi’s car broke down,” she explained. “He’s going to
stay here for a few days until it gets repaired.”
“Where?” Violet asked.
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Jenny also noticed the change in her voice and
wondered what might have happened to her. She tried
to read the girl’s eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Levi said. “I’m sleeping on the couch.
Believe me, the last thing I want to do is impose on
anyone. It’s just easier since I work in the building.
Saves me from having to walk back and forth every
day.”
Violet continued looking at them with a peculiar
expression that left them both a bit bewildered.
“I lost my job,” Violet said plainly. “I got fired. Good
night.”
Violet stormed into her room and shut the door,
leaving the two of them dumbfounded. Levi thought he
saw her reaching for her abdomen before the door
closed. He turned to Jenny and she offered him a
shrug.
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