The old Jeep squeaked as Paul turned the tight corner into the laneway. The inline six cylinder motor sounded even more primitive and harsh as the engine sounds bounced off the brick walls and garage doors that lined the lane.

  He knew that it was a crude and dated vehicle but it was reliable and easily serviceable. These were the type of tools that the driver favored over everything else. As soon as you introduced complexity into a tool you just increased the chance of failure.

  He had seen enough action over the years to know that simple and reliable was far better than something fancy with too many options. If it worked then keep it. If you had to think about how to make it work then it was better to toss it.

  In his opinion, too many people confused redundancy with complexity. He was happy to have several good tools that did one thing well rather than one-over complicated piece of shit that could do many things well but probably wouldn’t when you needed it to.

  It had been years since Paul had been thinking like this, thinking with an operations mindset. Jim’s call had stirred something within him. For as long as he had known Jim, he had always been a patient friend. As Paul had gotten to know Jim he really started to like his quiet and reserved nature. Offering help when needed and never judgmental.

  When Paul’s life had fallen apart, Paul had almost gone with it. Jim had been one of the very few people who hadn’t rejected him, hadn’t given him advice or overly false condolences. He had just been the same Jim and he had always been available and had helped Paul through some very difficult moments.

  Jim had also never, ever asked Paul for anything ever. When Jim had called he had been surprised by his demeanor, he had sounded worried but he also sounded unsure and possibly quite frightened.

  The heavy door closed with a solid thunk and Paul locked it with a key from his ring and walked to the back door of Jim’s building and knocked three times and waited. The engine ticked in the background as it started to cool and he listened to the footsteps approach the rear door where he was waiting.

  The young girl was a surprise. When she opened the door she scrutinized him quickly, taking his measure from head to toe in seconds much like a cop on the beat. He could see skepticism briefly in her eyes and then it was gone. She stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

  This is not a shy child, I wonder what she has seen to harden her like this.

  “Names Paul, I’m here to see Jim. Is he in?”

  “Paul, come in, it’s good to hear your voice.” Jim appeared over the girl’s shoulder and reached out to push the back door open. “This is Allanah, a good friend on mine.”

  Paul moved into the kitchen and shook hands with Jim and then offered his hand to the girl as well. There was a young boy sitting at the kitchen table wearing a grey set of Aviator style sunglasses. There was something unsettling about this one, Paul felt it immediately but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. The boy was sitting quite still, complacent but too calm, it was unnatural.

  “Sit down Paul, we’ve got a lot to tell you. Allanah, can you make us some coffee and I will bring Paul up to speed?” The girl moved off to start the coffee, it was apparent that she was glad to have a task. There was something very wrong with this dynamic between these three. If it wasn’t for Jim he would have already been ready to leave but because of an old friendship he would stay. He wanted to see how he could help his friend.

  Throughout the next half hour, as Jim and occasionally Allanah explained their situation, Paul would glance at Amos. The boy was detached and there was something off putting about how he offered no details or clarifications on the story they told.

  It seemed to Paul that this was primarily the boy’s story yet this silent, unmoving wooden creature sitting at the end of the table did not at all seem like the Amos in the story. It was during the last ten minutes that the current state of the kid began to make some sense.

  “That does sound like the Famigilia. Vicious, petty minded thugs and always out for blood. Generation after generation, all the same. It could be a poison but nothin’ like I ever heard about before.”

  He looked again at the boy. Now that he knew that Amos was struggling with something, something that wasn’t his fault he felt a lot more compassion for the kid. Both of them actually. They should be at home, watching TV or hanging out with friends. They had no business messing with the North End.

  “Jim, I need a phone, something safe, I wanna check with a few people about this Nonna Conti. I was primarily narcotics so I probably never ran into her but if she is like you say, I know who to ask about her.” After Jim had told Paul where the nearest payphone was Amos surprised everyone by breaking his silence.

  “Let me show you Paul, I want to get everyone some lunch and I want some fresh air.”

  No one said anything at first. For Jim and Allanah the changes to Amos over the last few days had been gradual but the cumulative result was that he was becoming a complete stranger to them.

  Each day he had been talking less and less and he tended to just sit and observe what was around him for prolonged periods of time. If they were both honest about it, Jim and Allanah were glad to get a break from Amos, his presence was becoming unnerving.

  “Jim said your vision has changed, less colors but much greater detail.” The two were walking along the sidewalk towards a collection of shops and restaurants on the next block.

  They made for an odd pairing. The slender boy dressed in black with dark sunglasses and then Paul, a stocky middle aged man wearing jeans and a light jacket who still walked like a cop on the beat.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Yeah, I thought I would miss the colors more but everything else has become much more interesting all of a sudden. I can see things very far away now and my hearing is becoming really sensitive, too sensitive.”

  “I really don’t like it when someone uses the bathroom, I hear everything. I’m learning how to tune it out unless I want to hear something but it takes concentration.”

  Paul pointed at a panel truck coming towards them many blocks away. “Tell me when you can read what’s on that truck.”

  Amos did not hesitate “Fong’s Truckload. Local Produce and Dairy. Massachusetts 814 054 commercial plate”.

  Paul held out his hand. “Gimme those shades for a sec.” He took the shades and quickly inspected them and then held them in front of his eyes and looked towards the truck. After a moment he handed them back to Amos while still staring at the truck.

  Thirty seconds later the older man said “well so be it, you got it exactly right and I still have twenty twenty vision so that means your vision is just exceptional.

  He turned to look at the boy only to find Amos staring at two men walking towards them out of a nearby laneway.

  “Everything ok Amos?”

  “No, the smaller guy on the right in the red shirt is high on something and is mentally unstable. The guy on the left is messed up too but not crazy, he’s just drunk or something.”

  Paul watched the men approach with the quiet confidence of someone who can assess a situation and the potential threats that might arise. His stance shifted slightly and he did a subtle scan of the area around him as the men got closer.

  Red shirt flashed a short kitchen knife that he had been holding behind his wrist once he was about twelve feet away.

  “Gimme your wallet or I’m gonna cut you bad. NOW…. get it out now”

  “Ok, ok , just relax ok, I’m going to take it out real slow like.” Paul had his left hand out, palm up as he fished out his wallet with his other hand. “I’m just undoing the button on the back pocket hang on..”

  “Hurry the fuck up” Red shirt was getting antsy and he was probably really feeling the need to score another dose of whatever he was on and the prospect of the wallet was pushing him over the edge.

  “Here you go…oh shit …hang on”. Paul had fumbled the wallet and it feel to the sidewalk after brushing against his thigh as he brought it out. He bent down quickly to retrieve it and before red shirt could react Paul was standing upright in a shooter’s stance with the 9 mm handgun he had pulled from a quick release ankle holster.

  “Drop the knife, turn around and go back to the hole you climber out of. NOW. Fucking move it. Now!”

  The two men staggered back in a stunned fashion, the commands slow to register but the sight of the gun communicated all that needed to be said. After a few steps backwards they turned and shuffled back down the lane as quickly as they could.

  Paul bent over and stowed his gun while getting the wallet. “Sorry Amos, I was staring at that truck too long and lost focus on what was around me. That was stupid of me, I should’ve seen those two a lot sooner.”

  They started walking again and after a moment Paul asked “How did you know that they were both high and that the guy in the red shirt is mentally unstable? I’ve been a cop for years and I’m not saying that you’re wrong but I didn’t see enough to know. “How’d you know?”

  Amos answered after a pause and did not look at Paul when he spoke.

  “When I look at most people now, I see bugs coming out around their head when they get emotional or excited. At least that I what I see, I know they are not real but I see all kinds of bugs. These guys, their bugs did not move around or fly right. They were really uncoordinated and lost, especially the ones that came outta red shirt. That’s how I knew.”

  They walked the rest of the way to the phone in silence. Paul was unsettled by what the boy had said, so much so he had forgotten about his improbable, no impossible eyesight. He had been around marksmen in the military. Almost all had had exceptional eyesight. Twenty fifteen or even better. Even the best that Paul had met would not have been able to read that truck license plate from so far away.

  Something was off with the kid. His eyes were spaced out and vacant. At any other time, had Paul stopped him on the street he would have immediately assumed that he was rolling on some kind of serious drug trip. Now he had no idea what to think and this whole business about seeing insects that were not there, it was too far fetched to believe.

  Amos went in to buy Italian sandwiches and drinks from the corner deli and Paul moved down the street to the payphone. He managed to reach his friend on the second attempt and after a brief greeting he started with his questions.

  He leaned against the stiff aluminum phone enclosure and looked up at the deli as he talked. He was careful not to share any information about the boy, the girl or Jim but he was not evasive about making his interest in Nonna Conti known. No one would ever trace him to Jim and as for himself, Paul would be happy to take the old woman head on, he would not hide from these people.

  When he saw the boy leave the deli Paul quickly wound up the conversation and met Amos on the street and walked back with him to Jim’s place.

  Only Allanah had any appetite and she seemed to enjoy the messy sandwich immensely and without reservation. The wax paper liner was spread out in front of her on the table and as she took large bites from the top of the sandwich an equivalent amount of sauce and filling oozed out on to the table below. Paul and Jim ate carefully and Amos barley touched his sandwich.

  Halfway through the meal Paul decided it was time to tell them what he had learned.

  “This old woman is the real deal. She used to be a lot more involved with the family. Mostly with the heads of the various factions and she would never be bothered with the lower level tough guys. Apparently she is getting more difficult and more senile every year and she has a real vicious streak.”

  “What about this curse rubbish that we’ve been worried about? Is there anything to that?” Jim was trying to keep his voice calm and to seem less interested that he really was.

  Paul took a moment to answer. He looked at Amos and said “Why don’t you tell em’ Amos, I had this sensation that you managed to listen to the whole conversation from inside the deli.”

  Amos didn’t even react to this revelation, but he did speak shortly afterwards “yes, I heard almost everything, I am getting good at focusing on what I want to hear. Your contact has heard about the curse. He said that the old woman is bragging about it in the neighborhood and what is yet to come.”

  “The guys that run the action out of Giorgio’s restaurant are upset and even more embarrassed and apparently they want to get at me before anyone else can. If there is any sign of a curse then they want to kill me and dump the body as fast as possible.”

  “Jesus Amos, how the hell do you just sit there as if you are reading the goddamn weather report? Don’t you care at all about this?” Allanah stared at Amos waiting for a reaction and when none came she swept up the remains of her sandwich and the wrapper and then stood up and stomped over to the waste bin. “For fuck’s sake Amos” she said as she jabbed the lid pedal with her foot and threw the leftovers away.

  “Let’s not get upset, save your anger and energy for when you need it.” Paul carefully folded up his lunch waste and went on as if Allanah’s outburst had never happened.

  “We can use this to our advantage. The old lady really wants to get a hold of you and parade you around like some kinda witches trophy. The family doesn’t want to be embarrassed or upstaged by her and they definitely don’t want her reputation in the neighborhood to include black magic and curses. If that happens they run the risk of people listening to the old woman rather than the family.”

  Paul looked at Allanah. “It’s always a power struggle with these types. Let’s use this to our advantage and divide and conquer”. He smiled as he finished speaking, it felt good to be doing something and if it was something that would hurt these bastards then so much the better.