Roland Odinkemelu's Blog - Posts Tagged "hitman"
Insider's loft: Preface
PREFACE
This material is intended to provide the reader with insight into the background story of the two main characters in the “The hound of Christopher”.
Retelling their story in this format takes nothing away from the main plot or subplot of the novel. However, in the interest of flow and the writer’s desire to keep the reader engaged, the author excluded this background.
This is not an alternate rendering of the story. It is the writer’s background script on two key characters, which helped in writing the novel.
This material is not for sale. It is free material from the writer to his reading audience.
This material is intended to provide the reader with insight into the background story of the two main characters in the “The hound of Christopher”.
Retelling their story in this format takes nothing away from the main plot or subplot of the novel. However, in the interest of flow and the writer’s desire to keep the reader engaged, the author excluded this background.
This is not an alternate rendering of the story. It is the writer’s background script on two key characters, which helped in writing the novel.
This material is not for sale. It is free material from the writer to his reading audience.
Insider's loft: Chapter 1
The rogue: Chapter one
The year was nineteen fifty three. The war was over in Europe and the rest of the world but much of Naples was still rebuilding from the airstrikes and random raids that devastated several parts of the city.
Via Alessandro Padre neighbourhood was no different. Although it lost a third of its population in the war, it was still notorious for robberies, muggings and killings.
Deep in the neighbourhood, in a tiny apartment two floors above Enzo’s Fiaschetteria there was a loud banging on the door of apartment fifteen. The apartment was Cecilia Russo’s, an elderly woman who lived alone with her cat, Freddie.
Jolting to wakefulness, Cecilia reached for the switch to her bedside lamp. She had only been asleep for an hour before her front door rattled eight feet away from her bedroom. She was not surprised. Residents of Via Alessandro Padre rarely got a full night’s rest without disturbance.
Grabbing the lamp’s switch, she flicked it on. As the lamp came on, Freddie, who slept at the foot of the bed, suddenly opened her eyes. Meowing, she rose to all fours poised for action.
“I know you don’t want the light,” Cecilia said in a hushed voice, “but there’s someone at the door Freddie and so I need the light.”
So saying, Cecilia rolled out of bed. Grabbing her walker, she started out of her bedroom.
Although Freddie heard none of what Cecilia had said, she intuitively had a good sense of why the lights had come on.
Since losing her hearing from a bomb explosion, Freddie had leaned toward her owner for guidance. This also meant she relied on Cecilia’s body language to sense danger.
In Via Alessandro Padre, residents were always in a heightened state of alert. The usual cause for alertness came from commotion in the street, which varied depending on the crime being committed.
A shrilled cry for help meant someone was about to be mugged. Muggers were fearless and selective. Their trained eyes knew who to mug and when and their targets were mostly helpless residents and visitors whose only defence to the thoughtless crime was a cry for help.
Gunshots, on the other hand, meant a robbery in progress. The intent was not to ward off residents but to announce the robbers’ real intent to kill. Often while keeping a safe distance, residents would watch in dismay as their neighbours are robbed in broad daylight. This was the norm in Via Alessandro Padre and no one dared help.
Heart pounding, Cecilia inched closer to her front door. It was precisely 10pm and oddly, her hallway was quiet. All her years living at that address, she had never known a time her hallway was quiet.
Because of the rampancy of crime, most residents kept awake to protect what little they had. So there was always noise in some apartment or hallway above or below Cecilia’s.
The only time a hallway was quiet was when a neighbour had learned that an apartment on that floor would be the next one robbed. Noise levels would fall to pin-drop silence as neighbours locked their doors and listened in.
No one dared to help. So in times of danger, residents often take on the fight alone to defend their household. In most cases, it did not end well.
Sensing danger behind her door, Cecilia froze. Pin-drop silence was not normal in her apartment building. Someone in some apartment in her building knew what was going to happen on her floor.
She did not like the idea that it might be close to her apartment or hers for that matter.
Cecilia was not far from the truth. For many years, she had been in the circle that benefited from the word on the street, the circle that knew what was going to happen in Via Alessandro Padre and when. Not many people in Via Alessandro Padre had access to this veritable source of information. Cecilia was one of the privileged few.
For many years, she had made it a routine to call the source at a certain time to learn the word in the street. Although she had never missed a day without calling, it had somehow skipped her mind before she retired to bed.
Now she was not sure if it was a good idea to open the door or not. In Via Alessandro Padre, a knock on the door meant two things: a friendly visit or a visit from a thief or worse, thieves. The war seemed to have made some of their home-grown criminal callous and more desperate. So when residents’ are not sure what to do when they heard a knock on the door, they quiz the caller without opening the door.
Suddenly, just before Cecilia would open her mouth to say anything, her front door rattled with a knock. Terrified, she grabbed her doorknob.
Seeing her sudden change in demeanour, Freddie arched her back and started to hiss.
Recognizing Freddie too had sensed danger, Cecilia firmed up her grip on the doorknob. As her mind started to race in wild confusion to place whom it might be, the caller blurted out, “Ma, I know you’re there. Open the door! It’s Marco. I’m here with your grandson, Fernando.”
The year was nineteen fifty three. The war was over in Europe and the rest of the world but much of Naples was still rebuilding from the airstrikes and random raids that devastated several parts of the city.
Via Alessandro Padre neighbourhood was no different. Although it lost a third of its population in the war, it was still notorious for robberies, muggings and killings.
Deep in the neighbourhood, in a tiny apartment two floors above Enzo’s Fiaschetteria there was a loud banging on the door of apartment fifteen. The apartment was Cecilia Russo’s, an elderly woman who lived alone with her cat, Freddie.
Jolting to wakefulness, Cecilia reached for the switch to her bedside lamp. She had only been asleep for an hour before her front door rattled eight feet away from her bedroom. She was not surprised. Residents of Via Alessandro Padre rarely got a full night’s rest without disturbance.
Grabbing the lamp’s switch, she flicked it on. As the lamp came on, Freddie, who slept at the foot of the bed, suddenly opened her eyes. Meowing, she rose to all fours poised for action.
“I know you don’t want the light,” Cecilia said in a hushed voice, “but there’s someone at the door Freddie and so I need the light.”
So saying, Cecilia rolled out of bed. Grabbing her walker, she started out of her bedroom.
Although Freddie heard none of what Cecilia had said, she intuitively had a good sense of why the lights had come on.
Since losing her hearing from a bomb explosion, Freddie had leaned toward her owner for guidance. This also meant she relied on Cecilia’s body language to sense danger.
In Via Alessandro Padre, residents were always in a heightened state of alert. The usual cause for alertness came from commotion in the street, which varied depending on the crime being committed.
A shrilled cry for help meant someone was about to be mugged. Muggers were fearless and selective. Their trained eyes knew who to mug and when and their targets were mostly helpless residents and visitors whose only defence to the thoughtless crime was a cry for help.
Gunshots, on the other hand, meant a robbery in progress. The intent was not to ward off residents but to announce the robbers’ real intent to kill. Often while keeping a safe distance, residents would watch in dismay as their neighbours are robbed in broad daylight. This was the norm in Via Alessandro Padre and no one dared help.
Heart pounding, Cecilia inched closer to her front door. It was precisely 10pm and oddly, her hallway was quiet. All her years living at that address, she had never known a time her hallway was quiet.
Because of the rampancy of crime, most residents kept awake to protect what little they had. So there was always noise in some apartment or hallway above or below Cecilia’s.
The only time a hallway was quiet was when a neighbour had learned that an apartment on that floor would be the next one robbed. Noise levels would fall to pin-drop silence as neighbours locked their doors and listened in.
No one dared to help. So in times of danger, residents often take on the fight alone to defend their household. In most cases, it did not end well.
Sensing danger behind her door, Cecilia froze. Pin-drop silence was not normal in her apartment building. Someone in some apartment in her building knew what was going to happen on her floor.
She did not like the idea that it might be close to her apartment or hers for that matter.
Cecilia was not far from the truth. For many years, she had been in the circle that benefited from the word on the street, the circle that knew what was going to happen in Via Alessandro Padre and when. Not many people in Via Alessandro Padre had access to this veritable source of information. Cecilia was one of the privileged few.
For many years, she had made it a routine to call the source at a certain time to learn the word in the street. Although she had never missed a day without calling, it had somehow skipped her mind before she retired to bed.
Now she was not sure if it was a good idea to open the door or not. In Via Alessandro Padre, a knock on the door meant two things: a friendly visit or a visit from a thief or worse, thieves. The war seemed to have made some of their home-grown criminal callous and more desperate. So when residents’ are not sure what to do when they heard a knock on the door, they quiz the caller without opening the door.
Suddenly, just before Cecilia would open her mouth to say anything, her front door rattled with a knock. Terrified, she grabbed her doorknob.
Seeing her sudden change in demeanour, Freddie arched her back and started to hiss.
Recognizing Freddie too had sensed danger, Cecilia firmed up her grip on the doorknob. As her mind started to race in wild confusion to place whom it might be, the caller blurted out, “Ma, I know you’re there. Open the door! It’s Marco. I’m here with your grandson, Fernando.”
On sale on Amazon
Take advantage of the upcoming sale of The Hound of Christopher on Amazon (Kindle version only).
Sale starts tomorrow, May 23rd.
Discounts are as follows:
May 23rd - 26th price: $1.99 (63% discount)
May 26th -29th price: $3.99 (51% discount)
Sale starts tomorrow, May 23rd.
Discounts are as follows:
May 23rd - 26th price: $1.99 (63% discount)
May 26th -29th price: $3.99 (51% discount)
The Insider's loft: Chapter two
Chapter two
Relieved it was no one other than her son, Cecilia heaved a sigh. “Oh Marco…it’s you,” she said softly. Immediately, she turned the key with one hand, twisted the doorknob with the other and pulled the door to open.
When the door swung open, Fernando, who had been looking forward to seeing his grandmother, found her standing in the doorway. Seeing her towering figure hunched over her walker, his eyes brightened up with joy.
“Grandma!” Fernando exclaimed and immediately, he loosened his grip on his father’s little finger. In excitement, he threw his hands up in the air expecting Cecilia to pick him up as she had done in the past when he was much younger, but she was too frail to do that.
However, his simple gesture combined with the excitement in his voice put a smile on Cecilia’s face. It was the sweetest thing she had heard since her brief moment of terror.
Reaching forward, Cecilia wrapped her arms around Fernando and embraced him. “I have missed you too,” she told him and kissed him on the head. “Now, let’s go inside.” Taking Fernando’s hand, Cecilia led the way into her apartment. “So tell me,” she began with a curious smile. “What is daddy feeding you these days?” she asked. Fernando had put on weight and looked a little plump.
“Candy,” Fernando chimed.
Cecilia’s eyes widened. “Candy?” she quizzed.
“Yes grandma,” replied Fernando. “Here look,” he added reaching into his pocket to provide proof. In that instant, Cecilia turned and looked at Marco. Seeing her look of disapproval, Marco advanced a rehearsed response. “I promised him if he behaved I will reward his good behaviour with a candy. It was the only way to get him to leave the house with me. We left in a hurry.”
“You mean you bribed him to urge him to leave the house with you at this time of the night.”
With no shame, Marco nodded and closed the door shut behind him. Of course, Marco did more than give Fernando candy. He fed him regularly, mostly meals his mother would consider unhealthy.
Marco was a single parent with little time to make proper meal for his son. Although he did not make good food choices for Fernando, he did not always give him candy whenever he wanted. To him, candies were more than just a treat. They served as “reward” for a desired behaviour, which Cecilia liked to call “bribe.” Cecilia did not approve of candies for children just as she despised the intent it purports to serve in Marco’s case. Of course, Marco knew his mother’s position on that.
“He’s only five, Marco—”
“I know,” Marco interjected. He was in no mood to listen to his mother’s speech on how best to raise his son. “I had no time to discuss or share the need for our hasty departure.”
Sensing that Marco might be in some kind of trouble, Cecilia turned to Fernando. “I want to have a little chat with your daddy,” she told him. “So go on and play with Freddie.”
Fernando obeyed. Once Fernando moved out of earshot, Cecilia said to Marco. “I am listening. Keep talking.”
“Aurelio wants leverage for the money he said we still owe him.”
Cecilia frowned. “Leverage,” she quipped.
“What sort of leverage?”
“He wants something that belongs to me that ensured I paid him. He wants Fernando. He had planned on snatching him away from me tonight, but I cannot let that happen and so I brought him here.”
Cecilia thought for a moment. “He’s not safe here.”
“We have nowhere else to go.”
Cecilia heaved a sigh. “If you had listened, Aurelio would no longer be a problem.”
“How about now?” asked Marco.
“It’s too late. Aurelio is now under the protection of Sam Lucci. We had the chance to put Aurelio out of business or force him out of the city a year ago through Bertrand Corbera, Sam’s right hand man.
“But after Aurelio pledged his allegiance to Sam through Corbera, we could no longer make our case. We were not the only ones who wanted him gone.”
Cecilia tightened her grip on her walker. The mere thought of Aurelio griped her.
“I knew Aurelio would insert himself in our lives when I realized you were dating Cinzia,” Cecilia complained. “I told you then that Cinzia was no good for you, this family, or me because she came with a baggage. You did not listen. You married her anyways not realizing Aurelio owned her.”
“But ma—”
“Let me finish,” Cecilia snapped. “Don’t get me wrong. Cinzia is loving, kind, respectful and in my mind, a perfect daughter-in-law. She does not deserve the cards life dealt her but she has made the best of it. Despite her efforts and your efforts and all the money both of you have paid Aurelio so far, the two of you together cannot make him go away.”
Then Cecilia paused to think. “How much did he say you owed?” she asked.
“Hundred thousand,” Marco replied and suddenly the room was pregnant with silence.
#TheHoundOfChristopher
Relieved it was no one other than her son, Cecilia heaved a sigh. “Oh Marco…it’s you,” she said softly. Immediately, she turned the key with one hand, twisted the doorknob with the other and pulled the door to open.
When the door swung open, Fernando, who had been looking forward to seeing his grandmother, found her standing in the doorway. Seeing her towering figure hunched over her walker, his eyes brightened up with joy.
“Grandma!” Fernando exclaimed and immediately, he loosened his grip on his father’s little finger. In excitement, he threw his hands up in the air expecting Cecilia to pick him up as she had done in the past when he was much younger, but she was too frail to do that.
However, his simple gesture combined with the excitement in his voice put a smile on Cecilia’s face. It was the sweetest thing she had heard since her brief moment of terror.
Reaching forward, Cecilia wrapped her arms around Fernando and embraced him. “I have missed you too,” she told him and kissed him on the head. “Now, let’s go inside.” Taking Fernando’s hand, Cecilia led the way into her apartment. “So tell me,” she began with a curious smile. “What is daddy feeding you these days?” she asked. Fernando had put on weight and looked a little plump.
“Candy,” Fernando chimed.
Cecilia’s eyes widened. “Candy?” she quizzed.
“Yes grandma,” replied Fernando. “Here look,” he added reaching into his pocket to provide proof. In that instant, Cecilia turned and looked at Marco. Seeing her look of disapproval, Marco advanced a rehearsed response. “I promised him if he behaved I will reward his good behaviour with a candy. It was the only way to get him to leave the house with me. We left in a hurry.”
“You mean you bribed him to urge him to leave the house with you at this time of the night.”
With no shame, Marco nodded and closed the door shut behind him. Of course, Marco did more than give Fernando candy. He fed him regularly, mostly meals his mother would consider unhealthy.
Marco was a single parent with little time to make proper meal for his son. Although he did not make good food choices for Fernando, he did not always give him candy whenever he wanted. To him, candies were more than just a treat. They served as “reward” for a desired behaviour, which Cecilia liked to call “bribe.” Cecilia did not approve of candies for children just as she despised the intent it purports to serve in Marco’s case. Of course, Marco knew his mother’s position on that.
“He’s only five, Marco—”
“I know,” Marco interjected. He was in no mood to listen to his mother’s speech on how best to raise his son. “I had no time to discuss or share the need for our hasty departure.”
Sensing that Marco might be in some kind of trouble, Cecilia turned to Fernando. “I want to have a little chat with your daddy,” she told him. “So go on and play with Freddie.”
Fernando obeyed. Once Fernando moved out of earshot, Cecilia said to Marco. “I am listening. Keep talking.”
“Aurelio wants leverage for the money he said we still owe him.”
Cecilia frowned. “Leverage,” she quipped.
“What sort of leverage?”
“He wants something that belongs to me that ensured I paid him. He wants Fernando. He had planned on snatching him away from me tonight, but I cannot let that happen and so I brought him here.”
Cecilia thought for a moment. “He’s not safe here.”
“We have nowhere else to go.”
Cecilia heaved a sigh. “If you had listened, Aurelio would no longer be a problem.”
“How about now?” asked Marco.
“It’s too late. Aurelio is now under the protection of Sam Lucci. We had the chance to put Aurelio out of business or force him out of the city a year ago through Bertrand Corbera, Sam’s right hand man.
“But after Aurelio pledged his allegiance to Sam through Corbera, we could no longer make our case. We were not the only ones who wanted him gone.”
Cecilia tightened her grip on her walker. The mere thought of Aurelio griped her.
“I knew Aurelio would insert himself in our lives when I realized you were dating Cinzia,” Cecilia complained. “I told you then that Cinzia was no good for you, this family, or me because she came with a baggage. You did not listen. You married her anyways not realizing Aurelio owned her.”
“But ma—”
“Let me finish,” Cecilia snapped. “Don’t get me wrong. Cinzia is loving, kind, respectful and in my mind, a perfect daughter-in-law. She does not deserve the cards life dealt her but she has made the best of it. Despite her efforts and your efforts and all the money both of you have paid Aurelio so far, the two of you together cannot make him go away.”
Then Cecilia paused to think. “How much did he say you owed?” she asked.
“Hundred thousand,” Marco replied and suddenly the room was pregnant with silence.
#TheHoundOfChristopher
The Insider's Loft: Chapter three
Hundred thousand was a lot of money for Marco, who earned minimum wage as a mason and moonlighted as a gambler. The income from both endeavours was not enough to put a roof over his head, pay bills, feed two people and pay Aurelio.
Life has been a struggle for Marco since his wife, Cinzia, started a fifteen-year sentence in Alighieri prison. Cinzia was guilty of attempted murder, robbery and assault on a police officer. Of the three alleged crimes, Cinzia committed none, at least to Marco.
To Marco, Cinzia was a victim of a failed justice system. A system that could not look beyond its veil of corruption and profound incompetence to see the truth that laid bare to many. The truth was a select few wielding incredulous power threatened freedom and equality to which the justice system was a custodian. Those who deserved a fair hearing did not get one because the system only served the needs of a select few.
Cinzia did not receive a fair hearing. Her trumped up charges, orchestrated and concocted by Aurelio was presided by a judge who was on Sam Lucci’s payroll and by a jury handpicked to deliver a guilty verdict.
Cinzia did not stand a chance. Even her condition at the time of the trial, which Marco hoped might help sway the verdict for a lesser sentence, did not draw upon the reservoir of good conscience he hoped from the jury.
At the time of her trial, Cinzia was seven months pregnant and two months away from being a mother. With the spoils of motherhood in sight, Cinzia kept faith for an acquittal.
Though she knew that the charges against her had no merit in court because it was a fabrication, nonetheless, it was too serious a crime that an acquittal was likely.
When the verdict was handed down, Cinzia was inconsolable. Marco, on the other hand, was not surprised. Cinzia was up against a force she could not defeat.
It was true that the charges levelled against Cinzia was a fabrication because the victim of the alleged attempted murder was Aurelio and the officer who claimed assault was a friend of the mob boss Sam Lucci.
The truth was Cinzia no longer wanted to continue to advance Aurelio’s indecent interests as a call girl. Knowing this Aurelio tried her publicly to discredit her and to establish she must because he owned her.
The only crime Cinzia felt she committed was colluding with Marco to fleece the casino where she worked hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
But this was no act of robbery as the casino had claimed. In addition, collusion was not a crime.
Cinzia and Marco were hustlers who found a way to make a clean break from a casino that paid no attention to card counting gamblers.
This was Marco’s gift. Indeed, Marco was every casino’s nightmare whose innate gift made him unwelcome at any gambling circle. Because no matter how many times a croupier shuffled the deck of cards, Marco envisioned with perfect accuracy the cards dealt to each gambler.
Marco, of course, did not always operate alone. He often worked with Cinzia, who was a clever croupier and a card-counting machine herself.
“Ma, I know what you’re thinking,” Marco said breaking the silence, “but I can fix this.”
“How?” Cecilia wanted to know.
“Niccolo has offered to help me raise the money I need to pay off Aurelio. I start tonight at his table at the Plaza Casino.”
Cecilia said not a word.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Marco added. “Niccolo is as good as Cinzia, if not better. I used to work with him before I met Cinzia. You remember Niccolo Albano don’t you?”
Cecilia nodded. “I do. I still remember him as a little boy that likes to play in the sand with you.” Cecilia smiled. Her memory still serves her well. “Niccolo is a good kid with a good head on his shoulder.”
“I know,” Marco said and kissed his mother. “I will see you in the morning.”
#TheHoundOfChristopher
Life has been a struggle for Marco since his wife, Cinzia, started a fifteen-year sentence in Alighieri prison. Cinzia was guilty of attempted murder, robbery and assault on a police officer. Of the three alleged crimes, Cinzia committed none, at least to Marco.
To Marco, Cinzia was a victim of a failed justice system. A system that could not look beyond its veil of corruption and profound incompetence to see the truth that laid bare to many. The truth was a select few wielding incredulous power threatened freedom and equality to which the justice system was a custodian. Those who deserved a fair hearing did not get one because the system only served the needs of a select few.
Cinzia did not receive a fair hearing. Her trumped up charges, orchestrated and concocted by Aurelio was presided by a judge who was on Sam Lucci’s payroll and by a jury handpicked to deliver a guilty verdict.
Cinzia did not stand a chance. Even her condition at the time of the trial, which Marco hoped might help sway the verdict for a lesser sentence, did not draw upon the reservoir of good conscience he hoped from the jury.
At the time of her trial, Cinzia was seven months pregnant and two months away from being a mother. With the spoils of motherhood in sight, Cinzia kept faith for an acquittal.
Though she knew that the charges against her had no merit in court because it was a fabrication, nonetheless, it was too serious a crime that an acquittal was likely.
When the verdict was handed down, Cinzia was inconsolable. Marco, on the other hand, was not surprised. Cinzia was up against a force she could not defeat.
It was true that the charges levelled against Cinzia was a fabrication because the victim of the alleged attempted murder was Aurelio and the officer who claimed assault was a friend of the mob boss Sam Lucci.
The truth was Cinzia no longer wanted to continue to advance Aurelio’s indecent interests as a call girl. Knowing this Aurelio tried her publicly to discredit her and to establish she must because he owned her.
The only crime Cinzia felt she committed was colluding with Marco to fleece the casino where she worked hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
But this was no act of robbery as the casino had claimed. In addition, collusion was not a crime.
Cinzia and Marco were hustlers who found a way to make a clean break from a casino that paid no attention to card counting gamblers.
This was Marco’s gift. Indeed, Marco was every casino’s nightmare whose innate gift made him unwelcome at any gambling circle. Because no matter how many times a croupier shuffled the deck of cards, Marco envisioned with perfect accuracy the cards dealt to each gambler.
Marco, of course, did not always operate alone. He often worked with Cinzia, who was a clever croupier and a card-counting machine herself.
“Ma, I know what you’re thinking,” Marco said breaking the silence, “but I can fix this.”
“How?” Cecilia wanted to know.
“Niccolo has offered to help me raise the money I need to pay off Aurelio. I start tonight at his table at the Plaza Casino.”
Cecilia said not a word.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Marco added. “Niccolo is as good as Cinzia, if not better. I used to work with him before I met Cinzia. You remember Niccolo Albano don’t you?”
Cecilia nodded. “I do. I still remember him as a little boy that likes to play in the sand with you.” Cecilia smiled. Her memory still serves her well. “Niccolo is a good kid with a good head on his shoulder.”
“I know,” Marco said and kissed his mother. “I will see you in the morning.”
#TheHoundOfChristopher
The Insider's Loft: Chapter four
The odd feeling of insecurity returned to the fore as Marco closed the door shut and vanished down the hallway. Marco’s presence may have been enough to provide Cecilia a sense of safety but not enough to allay the danger she had previously sensed. It now lurked heavily in her hallway.
Standing as if rooted to the ground, Cecilia started to gaze at her front door. The more she gazed at the door, the more her fear grew.
She was not alone with fear. Freddie too had sensed danger and she was uncomfortable with what she had sensed.
With the furs on her back standing straight, Freddie cagily made her way from one corner of the room to the other in Cecilia’s direction. It was as if Freddie knew that Cecilia needed company and some assurance that she was not alone. Together they will defeat whatever it was they awaited its arrival.
Not long after, Freddie was pressing her body on Cecilia’s right leg. Feeling the warmth of her body, Cecilia eased the intensity of her gaze.
“I know, Freddie,” she told her. “I can feel it too.”
Soon after Cecilia said that, she turned sharply. With Freddie now at her feet, her mind had quickly raced to Fernando.
Meanwhile, Fernando, who was stroking Freddie’s back a short while ago, had fallen asleep at one corner of the where the pair had sat in quietude.
“No, not here Fernando,” Cecilia cried. Knowing what Aurelio was up to, Cecilia did not feel comfortable with her grandson spending the night in her apartment.
Ambling her way across the room, Cecilia stopped at the corner Fernando slept. Nudging him gently on the shoulder, she watched as Fernando’s eyes opened, and widened.
Though he knew where he was, he was not entirely with all his senses. “Is it morning, grandma?” he asked confused as to how quickly he had slept through the night.
“No sweetie. You still have a lot of time to sleep. Take my hand and I will tuck you in bed.”
Fernando obeyed. As Fernando came to his feet, he felt his grandmother firm up her grip on his hand. Like that, Cecilia hustled him out of her apartment and down the hallway. Freddie stayed put as if commandeered to guard the apartment.
Standing as if rooted to the ground, Cecilia started to gaze at her front door. The more she gazed at the door, the more her fear grew.
She was not alone with fear. Freddie too had sensed danger and she was uncomfortable with what she had sensed.
With the furs on her back standing straight, Freddie cagily made her way from one corner of the room to the other in Cecilia’s direction. It was as if Freddie knew that Cecilia needed company and some assurance that she was not alone. Together they will defeat whatever it was they awaited its arrival.
Not long after, Freddie was pressing her body on Cecilia’s right leg. Feeling the warmth of her body, Cecilia eased the intensity of her gaze.
“I know, Freddie,” she told her. “I can feel it too.”
Soon after Cecilia said that, she turned sharply. With Freddie now at her feet, her mind had quickly raced to Fernando.
Meanwhile, Fernando, who was stroking Freddie’s back a short while ago, had fallen asleep at one corner of the where the pair had sat in quietude.
“No, not here Fernando,” Cecilia cried. Knowing what Aurelio was up to, Cecilia did not feel comfortable with her grandson spending the night in her apartment.
Ambling her way across the room, Cecilia stopped at the corner Fernando slept. Nudging him gently on the shoulder, she watched as Fernando’s eyes opened, and widened.
Though he knew where he was, he was not entirely with all his senses. “Is it morning, grandma?” he asked confused as to how quickly he had slept through the night.
“No sweetie. You still have a lot of time to sleep. Take my hand and I will tuck you in bed.”
Fernando obeyed. As Fernando came to his feet, he felt his grandmother firm up her grip on his hand. Like that, Cecilia hustled him out of her apartment and down the hallway. Freddie stayed put as if commandeered to guard the apartment.
