Mafia Servant

Chapter 28 - A happy Birthday

Yeah, turn over more weed leaves.

He had "accidentally" gave me a bun stuffed with powdered ecstasy, making me go high in the middle of his eatery on a hot afternoon. Whether it is an accident or a prank, the trauma is permanent and I have tore apart every stuffed buns and dim sums since then.

"You needa trust mor, errand girl." The uncle called me out as he shook his head and walk off. I beamed but still checked through the buns.

Most business operation here has a second side to it, just like this eatery. Money rolled in on its own, with incomes from both sides. Like me, these businesses don't go looking for opportunities. Those that know, will come knocking on their doors.

Brimful with stuffed buns, I bid the old uncle farewell with a promise to return once every while.

All sorts of people patronises the Black Market. Most people minded their own businesses as they travelled to their desired destinations in a rush. Some unable to contain their desires while others want to get out of this place fast. But I could always count on the younger crowds wanting a taste of the Black Market to make some noise on the streets.

Entering by the back door, the size of the crowd was magnified from behind the counter, separating staff and customers. The biggest weapons dealership slash tattoo parlour was packed like sardines, people shovelling others in their way to get serviced first.

There were no news kept hidden once someone knows about it in this community. "Errand girl! I was about to phone you but dim sum told us you came!" The owner's trusted assistant shouted over the crowd.

She pulled me to the back of the shop and dug out a black shoebox from sketches of her own weapon designs and tattoo pieces. "Happy birthday, my love!" Tipping the box into my hands, she embraced me in a bear hug.

I chuckled, this girl have never failed to remember my birthday. The right half of her smile widened as I thanked her. The left side of her face hides behind a wooden mask, covering her disfigurement that no one have dared to ask her.

It was just two days after I moved into the motel. On my way back from the dim sum eatery, a young boy was surrounded by drunken hooligans in a dark alley. The young boy was shaking as he walked backwards, away from three men cornering him. Young and reckless, I rushed into the alley and tried to be a hero for once.

I had my first fight that night. The fight felt exhilarating even if we had lost to the three grown men. When I brought back the young boy to my room to clean his wounds, I realised, he was actually a her.

"Vermilion Ani Zoette Ciciau. Nice to meet you!" She rapped her introduction and I burst out laughing at her name. That was the longest and funniest name I have ever heard, real or staged. Feeling too suffocated in her own family, Vermilion had abandoned her loved ones.

We were like two people from different worlds, I did not have what she had and she wanted what i despised. But perhaps, differences attract and we became good friends.

We shared the room for a year. Vermilion got around the Black Market just as fast as me, with her own specialities in weapons design and tattooing. I watched her get her first tattoo on her left calf and see it expanding into a full sleeve over that one year.

"Thanks Vermilion," I beamed at my friend and lifted the lid off the box. A silver handgun laid in the box with "MDS" engraved onto the grip and a black pocket pistol laid in the box.

"Black Bear's. Mine." Vermillion explained as she pointed to the pocket pistol first before pointing to the silver handgun. "Only you can operate the gun because it recognises just one set of thumbprint." She explained and set up the pistol for me.