SNUFF (h.s.)

Chapter 13

What Does The Flower Girl Dream Of?

"I'm in deep shit here, Sergio... What is it?"

"Why didn't you come, Harry?"

"I did my job. That's why you call me?"

"I was worried. You know they were expecting you but you have a stubborn head. You should have been here", this was guttery muttery and Harry had the nerve to be cocky only through the phone.

"I am sorry I am not there. I made sure she had company, isn't that alright?"

"You must be here. Both you and Nora"

"I don't know where Nora is..."

"If you wanna play sick and disappear, forget Chicago. That's how you intend to start a family?"

"Listen, Sergio. Didn't I tell you I want to marry Nora? Alright. I did. I don't take it back. I'm considering Chicago, you're right. If I want to settle down, I won't stay in this shithole. You're right. But... Don't break my balls when I open my heart to you"

"I gave you a job, Harry", his chevalier shone as he turned to gaze at the room with the coffin and the black-dressed guests. They were all moving their shoulders as if they were the trembling candle shades for the deceased old lady.

"I did my job just fine. Well, until you called me"

"So I'm interrupting? From what job? Gambling instead of showing up? The money you spread around I don't give because I'm a good man"

"Don't break my balls, Sergio. You got him. He's right there. I was responsible for that? Yes. And he's fucking there", his voice sounded distant and rough like some melancholic singer's record from the roaring '20s.

"You told me that you couldn't find Nora. Well, you better get used to it if you won't wise up"

"Why the fucking threats now?"

"Threats? Oh, Harry...", Sergio had a soft smile as tender as his velvet suit, "You act like a brat. You underestimate me. But if you don't get your shit together, you won't have time for your cheap jokes"

"All I know is I take the shitty jobs for fucking peanuts as if nothing's changed"

"Don't beg for money through the phone"

"You know I can make in a day what you give me in a week"

"You're a smarty chap and can handle the deck? At least come and complain to my face. Save your breath and don't bitch about it like a housewife"

"It's not a game, Sergio. I'm not enjoying a day at the fair, be sure about it", Harry was thinking that he'd soon regret asking Nora to get married. What the hell? They'd be lucky if they'd get out of the church without a bloody wedding dress. He shouldn't have accepted that day at the hammam.

"If I give them to you, where are you going to spend them?"

"Are you expecting me to say that I'll gamble them?"

"Tell me. If you help me understand what a couple more will do, I'll give them to you"

"I'll gift Nora the life she deserves"

Griselda's brother was sitting at the front seats. He was resting on a fauteuil à la reine armchair designed for Count Dracula to mourn his dearest Elisabeta. He was hunched and thoughtful, half-asleep. He was resting his hands on his lanky feet, his deformed fingers from arthritis that were more dangerous than a cocking gun.