Requiem for a Mouse (3 page)

LAO

It sure is noisy today.

“What’s going on?” Lao asked.

The bar fell into complete silence. The circle of people around Prince opened to allow Lao through. Even the man with a knife in his stomach stopped screaming. The metallic glint of a pistol caught Lao’s eye.

Lao ignored Prince. He stepped over the bleeding man to stand face-to-face with the gunman, moving as if he had all the time in the world.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Owen.” Owen’s gun dropped to his sides. His face drained of color.

The crowd around Owen backed away.

Lao undid the buttons of his white tuxedo. What was to come would be messy and white was the hardest color to clean. Unfortunately, his entire outfit was white, from his shoes to his dress pants to his cowboy hat.

“Do you know my policy on guns, Owen?” Lao asked.

“It won’t happen again,” Owen said, his eyes to his feet.

Lao gently slapped Owen’s cheek until he caught his eyes. “I’m sorry Owen, you’re muttering. What was that?”

“It won’t happen again Mr. Dragon.”

Lao shook his head. “No. You may call me The Dragon or even Dragon, but never Mister. Mister refers to men of more refined qualities. I’m a simple man.”

“I’m sorry Dragon.”

“So, is it that my policy on guns is unclear? I thought it was rather straight forward, but then again, we humans are rather stupid creatures.”

Owen shook his head, his lower lip quivering.

“So you’re telling me that you, having perfectly understood my rules, deliberately chose to break them.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“So you’re saying that it’s my fault for having unclear rules.”

“Please Dragon, it was a mistake. I was only trying to protect my friend.” The gun dropped from Owen’s hand and clattered on the ground.

“Which friend?”

Owen looked toward the man bleeding on the floor. “John.”

“And what were you protecting him from?”

“Well…” Owen’s voice dropped. “The boy.”

Lao looked over to see Prince. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“No sir.”

Lao turned toward the crowd. “Can anyone tell me what happened?”

Only Prince’s erratic coughs responded.

“Alright then.” Lao stepped up to John. He placed his shoes on top of the knife in John’s stomach, careful not to press too hard, lest he dirty his shoes with blood. “How about you tell me what happened, friend of Owen?”

John clenched his teeth together and groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his head away from Lao. “I don’t know him,” he grunted through the pain. “I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”

Lao took his feet off the knife. He turned back to Owen who somehow looked even paler than before.

“No, Dmitri, back me up,” Owen stammered.

“I don’t know you,” someone said from the crowd.

“No. Guys, please.”

“Dragon.” A poisonous voice called out from behind Lao.

Without having to look, he knew who the voice came from. He turned toward the voice. “The last time I saw you, I nearly had you killed. Is Sasha coming here to save you again? After all, she still has one more eye to give me.”

Prince clenched his jaw shut. Once again stepping over Owen’s friend, Lao approached Prince. He was used to looking down at people, but never literally. Luckily, Prince was short, even for a boy.

The Dragon grinned. “You seem to bring trouble with you wherever you go.”

Two dark blue eyes glared back.

“Perhaps you can tell me what’s going on,” Lao said.

“This is what happens to those who think they’re untouchable.”

Lao ignored Prince’s obvious threat. If there was anything that could overpower his ego, it was his curiosity. “How did you do this?”

Prince gave no answer.

Lao frowned at the silence. When he said ‘jump’, he expected even the crippled to leave the ground. “How?”

Even Prince had sense enough to not push his luck. “We were gambling and I didn’t think he would pay me, so I stole his knife.” Prince looked down at his ripped shorts, showing Lao the hole in it. “When he attacked me, I had the knife.”

Lao nodded satisfied. “How does Sasha keep finding such interesting company?” He laughed, genuinely impressed. “Alright then, you can leave now.”

“No.” Prince nodded at John. “He still owes me money.”

Lao dug into his pocket and produced a few neatly folded twenty dollar bills. He dropped three on the ground in front of Prince.

“Prince, do you know why I hate humans? Look at how fast Owen’s friends abandoned him. Is it not strange that friendship means so little when it’s supposed to mean the most? Not even animals can sell each other out so fast. There is nothing more disgusting than humans and this is the proof.”

“You’re human too.”

“A damning accusation indeed.”

Prince looked unamused.

“Relax,” Lao chuckled. “I’m only joking. However unfortunate, I cannot deny my part in this vulgar race.”

“You’re wrong about humans.”

With a single eyebrow raised, Lao nodded toward Owen. “You are currently looking at the man who was betrayed by the very friend he almost killed for. This is my proof, where is yours?”

“Two months ago. The girl who nearly blinded herself to save me.”

Lao laughed, his entire body shaking with its force. “Well said. Now leave.”

When Prince left, Lao returned his attention to Owen.
“Now where were we?” He extended out his pointer finger and thumb into a makeshift gun and brought it up to Owen’s forehead. “Ah yes, pow.”

MAVERICK

It had been a while since Maverick had last blinked. Despite the scorching sun, and the crowd of people pushing past him, he stood completely still, staring at the television as if in a trance. It depicted a foreign land with grass and paved roads. The women had flawless skin while the men wore immaculate smiles. He was sure even the weather there was perfect. The best part about the show was the music. Music like that didn’t exist anywhere else but the TV.

With his finger, he rubbed his front teeth as if he could clean the yellow stains from them. Not even his skin could compare with the heroes of the TV, least of all the arms too long for his body and ears too big for his head.

I’ll grow into my body.
These words were recited at least once a week. He hated the pains he felt in his joints every morning. Flower had told him he was just going through puberty. Apparently, it was natural.

“What’s going on?” Dave asked.

Maverick had been so engrossed in the show he had forgotten Dave was here. He had even forgotten the reason he was here in the first place. A quick glance at the Riverside Tavern confirmed that Prince had not yet left. He hoped that Prince was behaving himself, but was not stupid enough to bet on it.

“It’s a romance,” Maverick said. He spoke with a light Russian accent, the only gift his parents had ever given him.

Dave rubbed his chin, moving apart thin grey bristles. “What’s their problem?”

“The man’s Jewish and the woman’s Catholic. They love each other but their families cannot accept them.”

“Bah,” Dave scoffed. “Ridiculous. What does that matter?”

“God seems to be a big deal. Everyone is trying to figure Him out.”

“If everyone’s still trying to figure Him out, why do they all come here claiming to know the one true God?”

Maverick shrugged.

Dave took a coin from his pocket and held it in the air. “This is the God I believe in. It keeps me fed and it keeps me warm. Until another God can do that, I’ll put my faith in this one.”

“So then why do you go to so many different churches?”

“Because missionaries always bear gifts.” Dave gave Maverick a wide smile. “I’ll believe in a million gods if each one is holding some food and wine.”

Maverick laughed. “One God is already enough. I don’t think I could handle a million.”

“Maverick, at your age, you should only be concerned with your next meal. Eating is a far greater joy than praying.”

Maverick looked at Dave’s protruding stomach. “You’ve taken your own advice.”

Dave let out a rumbling laugh. “Yes, I’ve been happy for quite a while now.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “So, why are you here, surely you’re not here just to hang out with an old man? You helping your damsel in distress?”

Maverick thought back to his damsel and laughed. “Yeah right.” Sasha could never be called a damsel in distress. Not even his vast imagination could change her firm commands into the sweet pleading he would’ve liked to hear.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Prince leaving the Riverside Tavern. Sasha was going to be livid when he told her he couldn’t stop Prince. Truth be told, he never even tried. He had been too distracted by the TV to do anything. While Prince had his gambling addiction, he had his TV one. At least his addiction could never hurt anyone.

“They say it’s going to rain soon,” Dave said.

Maverick looked up at the sky. There were only a few wisps of clouds. “Really now.”

“It’s supposed to be the storm of the century. Wind so strong it’ll blow a baby out of her mother’s arms.”

It hadn’t rained in months. Maverick saw no reason why it ever would. “As long as it rains, I’m okay with anything.”

Dave nodded, serious. “Best prepare though, this one’s going to be bad.”

“Alright.” With visible strain, he pulled his eyes away from the TV. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll see you later Maverick and remember, buy an umbrella.”

With a nod, Maverick weaved his way through the streets, sneaking up on the unsuspecting Prince.

PRINCE

“Gambling again?”

Prince jumped. “Jesus Maverick! You scared me.”

Maverick waited for an answer.

“I was just in the Riverside Tavern to grab a drink, that’s all.”

Maverick crossed his arms, waiting for Prince to admit the truth.

Prince raised his arms as if at gunpoint. “What? Are you going to search me?”

With a small shake of his head, Maverick started walking. “Let’s go.”

“Do you follow me around everywhere I go now?” Prince asked.

“Only when Sasha tells me to.” Maverick’s response was crisp.

“Why is it that I never see you coming?”

“It’s a talent.”

“What talent? Creepiness? Probably from years of being a creep.”

“Then I guess it’s a skill.” Maverick’s eyes remained forward, like he couldn’t be bothered to even look at Prince.

“No, it’s just weird,” Prince said. “Are you ever going to stop following me around?”

“Are you ever going to stop gambling?”

“Get a life.” Prince knew that his anger was misplaced, but he didn’t care. A few minutes ago he had his windpipe crushed by a man who looked down on him for his size. Now, he was being lectured for it. Even worse, it came by Sasha’s command. “Are you going to do everything she tells you to do? What if she tells you to bark? Sasha can’t babysit us forever.”

“That’s because I’ll grow up.”

Prince’s breath caught in his throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maverick turned toward Prince with an amused expression, as if pointing out a stark irony in Prince’s words.

“Wait a second, do you think you’re babysitting me right now?”

“Only because Sasha told me to.”

Prince exploded. “Sasha says sit so you sit. Sasha says fetch so you fetch. What are you, her dog?”

Maverick grinned. “If I’m the dog, then you must be the stick I fetch. Personally, I’d rather be the dog.”

“At least the stick doesn’t put himself in a collar.”

Maverick shrugged. “But eventually, we throw away the stick.” He stopped walking with a bemused smile. “And if the dog doesn’t bring it back, it’s left in the ground.”

The wider Maverick’s smile grew, the hotter Prince’s anger burned.

“And sometimes, it’s the same stick used to beat the dog, to teach it when not to bark!” Prince’s voice carried across the street earning him strange looks.

“But in this case, the dog would break the stick in two.” Maverick stepped towards Prince, looming over him. “The stick would be stupid to even go near the dog.” His mouth was curved into the same grin John had worn.

Prince looked away. He knew the exact words he could say to start a fight; they were stuck in his throat. But he had been in enough altercations with Maverick to know how the fight would turn out. Despite Maverick’s skinny build, he was strong and his fist always carried the force of his body.

“I’d rather be abandoned than neutered,” Prince said. It was a compromise, words that danced around the real issue.

With a slight nod, Maverick continued walking home with Prince behind him. “You can love a neutered dog, but you can’t love a broken stick.”

Fuck compromises.

“But only a dog can lead his master to death.” Even as the words left his mouth, Prince knew he would regret them.

In a flash, Maverick was upon him, his elbow pressed against Prince’s neck. For the second time in under ten minutes, Prince choked. Maverick’s usual poise disintegrated as his dark eyes danced in fury.

“You think that was my fault?” Maverick growled. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been at Hawk’s Lair then, begging for someone to come save you.” He shoved Prince against the wall and stepped away.

“Nobody asked for your help,” Prince growled back, massaging his neck.

“I saved your life.”

“And you almost killed Sasha. It should’ve been me who paid the price, not her!”

“I agree.”

“So then why?”

“If it was my choice, we would’ve left you there.”

“Then whose choice was it?” Prince screamed.

Silence ensued. Even the bustle of the marketplace seemed to fade. Maverick took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “Sasha’s.”

Prince looked away. After a deep breath, he cursed. “Shit!” He turned to Maverick. “Listen, Mav. I’m sorry, alright? Things just should’ve turned out different is all.”

With a single nod, Maverick turned to walk home.

For the rest of the way, neither spoke.