3.
I wait patiently, but it seems he isn’t at home. Damn it, I don’t feel like searching him at his work. It complicates my order tremendously. Witnesses and possibly some hidden cameras have already made a mess of it. I want to turn around and search a cab, when I suddenly hear shuffling footsteps. I check whether my Glock is hidden well and put on a sweet girly smile.
It wasn’t until now I discovered the peephole through which he peeks at me. ‘What do you want?’ His voice sounds as if he’s under influence of one or another substance.
‘Sarah, sir,’ I say on a dearest tone and in English. I waver with the ballpoints in front of the peephole. ‘I sell ballpoints for the good cause by order of my school The Academy of Holy Angels.’
I hear him grumble, followed by the unlatching of the door. It is only opened slightly in a way you can only see his worn-out, splodgy face that’s characterized by dark bags under his brown eyes, cracked lips and oily dark brown hair.
I know what he’s trying to do right now, I can feel it because my hair roots are tingling. I could also tell by the color of his eyes, because it changes when an otherkind is using his or her gift. But I can’t see it because he’s turning his head too much down.
But it is clear he’s trying to read my mind to investigate whether I speak the truth or not. I may change my outlook, but not my mind. So he’s indeed a devil. I’m sure he won’t succeed. Diedie took care of that. The only thing he gets to read right now is that I’m a good school-going girl.
Kudos for you, Diedie.
‘No hawkers,’ he finally lisps.
He looks at me again with a normal color of eyes and not the typical black ones.
‘But sir, it’s to help the orphans,’ I pout. ‘They’re only 1 dollar.’
With an effort, he focuses on the ballpoints in my hand. The door opens a little bit more, but he keeps on to it as if it was a lifesaver. He’s shaking on his legs in his worn-out bathrobe that even looks dingier than the pavement.
‘I don’t have money inside.’
‘Can I than just come in to explain our good cause, sir? I can come back later with the ballpoints when you have the money,’ I hold on.
I put a step forward.
‘Tomorrow,’ he says.
A smoke of alcohol and dense cheese comes my way and I have difficulty not to gag on it. It just has been enough for me. I put the ballpoints in the pocket of my jacket and step forward. I give him a hard push by which he stumbles backwards and finally smacks to the ground. He falls painfully on his elbows and utters a curse even Oded would be jealous of. I rapidly run into the house and close the door behind me. The hall smells like piss and spoiled leftovers and even looks like it, but strangely enough the house especially gives me the feeling it’s been empty for many years.
‘What are you doing…’ he stutters. He looks at me with big eyes.
I can see him think: how can a little girl have so many strength?
‘It isn’t very nice of you, sir, to refuse your support for a good cause.’
‘Goddamned,’ he yells. ‘Get out of my house!’
He lankily struggles to his feet, always holding an eye on me. ‘What are these for guerrilla practices!’
He wobbly stands in front of me and wavers his index finger in front of my face. In one quick movement, I grab his fingers, snap it and force him down on his knees. Despite my delicate figure, I keep my own strength. He moans like a little child and tears are in his eyes. When the worst pain is over, but I goddamn hold him tight, he looks up at me with a tug. His look furious and fire breathing.
‘You’re name isn’t Sarah, is it.’
‘It could have been, you know. I was a foundling.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Who are you?’ I turn the tables.
‘Let me go and I’ll tell you.’
‘Okay, good deal.’
I let go of his finger and of course he jumps up and goes for my throat.
Good little devil.
With a satisfied grin on his conk his hands squeeze my throat. I keep smiling at him in the most polite way and suddenly he realizes why. Or, better said, he feels why. The barrel of my Glock pokes in his stomach. His look changes from amazement into fear in a nanosecond, faster than I can transform. The advantage is that his eyes are now much brighter than before, but it can even get better. I unlock the first safety catch of the Glock, which makes a pleasant clicking sound and makes him pay full attention.
‘It’s much easier to talk without your fingers around my throat,’ I say sugary.
I barely feel his grip because I moved the mass around my neck to a lower region through which I now have bigger boobs. Finally.
He takes a hesitated step backwards and stares at me in fury. Hm, at least he’s sober now.
‘You’re a transformer,’ he hisses between his teeth.
‘You’re a clever boy.’
I turn the pistol on his forehead. This isn’t easy, since I’m still much smaller than he is and so I have to hold my arms up high. Nevertheless, I’m not planning to transform myself into my usual looks. Jabar advised me to avoid it as much as possible on missions. As long as the misbehaving otherkinds don’t know what I look like, I’m safe.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m here to give you some spanking.’
It has to be a funny sight. A schoolgirl in a nun-like uniform that turns a pistol on a much bigger man and tells him as cool as you please that she’s here to give him some spanking. If the situation wasn’t this serious, I would have had a good laugh about it.
The devil however does it in my place and starts to laugh out loud. It sounds like a hyena with an upset stomach. His bathrobe falls open and that’s the sight I really want to spare myself of.
‘You… a girl… give me… spanking? Even with the pistol…’
With a satisfied grin I reach for my blackjack. I’m armed in both hands. ‘The left or the right hand? You may choose.’
His eyes narrow. ‘And why? What did I do to you?’
‘To me nothing personal. You wouldn’t even succeed to do so. You’re a risk for the otherkinds.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Don’t play ignorant. You’ve used your gift to rob some stores.’
‘How do… so what? What has that got to do with you? You’re from the police or what?’
Damn it, my pistol arm is getting tired.
‘No. Let’s put it this way: I have to see to it that our kind doesn’t get betrayed. That they color between the lines. And everyone who colors outside the lines gets a visit from me. You sure know you have to keep your gift secret and certainly that you can’t impose on it.’
‘So what are you going to do about it? It happened, right? And the stuff is already sold.’
‘You’re neatly going to give that money back. In the same way you stole those things.’
I lower my painful arm, but don’t lose him out of sight. ‘One movement and you’ll pee through a little hose from now on.’
‘And what if I don’t return the money?’
When will he finally get he can’t win?
‘I’ll get your brain blotted out by a witch in such a way you don’t even know how to eat without drooling and don’t know but one word: ‘mummy’. It takes as long as a phone call you have to answer. Simple and quick.’
His scrutinizing look and nervous twiddling on his bathrobe make me suspect he’s weighing his options. Stay focused, Manon.
‘How come I can’t influence your thoughts? There’s a shield around it.’
‘Strong mojo.’ I swing the pistol. ‘What’s it gonna be? What do you decide?’
‘You can’t know whether I’ll bring the money back or not,’ he tries, but it doesn’t sound as if he believes it himself. ‘What are you gonna do? Hold my hand?’
‘I never grab something with my bare hands when I’m caught red-handed. And don’t be so sure about the fact I can’t check it. We’ve got our ways to do so. My next visit won’t be one with much options. Only one, if you know what I mean.’
His look changes and he looks at me in a pitiful way. ‘I need that money.’
‘Why?’
‘To buy drugs.’ He turns his eyes away and looks to the ground.
‘Drugs?’
I didn’t see that one coming. Devils are known to loathe drugs, unless in an alcoholic, liquid shape. Why do I get the impression he isn’t totally honest? Something in his look isn’t pure.
‘I have personal problems and drowning my grief in drink doesn’t work. So I tried to do it with drugs. But even for drugs I have a high tolerance level.’
‘Never heard of therapy?’ I sneer at him, not impressed by his lame excuse. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to decide.’
His eyes flash back and forth, as if he’s looking for a way to escape. I’m blocking the front door. He could take his heels and try to escape through the backdoor, which I can see from here. He could try. Jabar gave me a good training in shooting and I can’t wait to test it. Until now, the wrongdoing otherkinds always cleanly did what I asked them to do.
‘Five seconds.’
‘Alright, alright, alright. I’ll take everything back.’
‘As soon as possible.’
He nods heavily. ‘As soon as possible.’
‘Remember that this is your only chance. The next…’
‘Yes, yes, the next time I’ll become devil hotchpotch.’
‘Without the sausage.’
‘Yeah yeah.’
‘And don’t even think about escaping. Wherever you’ll hide, we’ll find you.’
I put the blackjack in my inside pocket and run backwards to the front door with the pistol turned on him.
‘It will be checked tomorrow.’ With those last words I leave the house.
Outside I breathe in the clean air. Nah well, clean. But, compared to the sour odor in the devil’s house, even a dump smells fresh like mint. I put the pistol away and walk down the street.
Now I have to look for a nice café, I’m starving because of the adrenaline and excitement. Further on I see a snack bar in those typical bright colors and chrome from the sixties. A look at my watch tells me it’s eight in the morning. High time for breakfast.
I slip into a shady lane, look around carefully and transform to my usual looks, which takes only two seconds. A great disadvantage is connected to transforming. When I have my original shape back, I’m cold for at least an hour. This has to do with the energy I consume in such a short period. But luckily it’s so hot outside I’m barely troubled by it.
The next morning I call Selena while I’m trying to hold a cab. I decide to go back to the same café as yesterday. They had fucking great hamburgers.
‘I’m ready and I’m going to that snack bar, right around the corner of that devil’s house. It’s called Shaken Burgers.’
‘I’ll be there in one hour.’
‘Don’t rush yourself, I’m hungry.’
I snap the mobile phone shut before she can make a comment on that. I prefer to take a cab to the airport. It’s just that I don’t know what to do with my weapons than. Jabar doesn’t like weapons staying behind in his house; there sure could be a robbery. I’m obliged to meet Selena again. The spot where my pistol hit my ribs by the agency of Selena, still feels black and blue and painful.
Hopefully those two hamburgers and the great portion of fries I’m planning to order will not only strengthen my body for a next confrontation with Selena.