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  “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “Okay, you need clothes, lady things, and veggies,” he said.

  The boy chimed in, “and fruit. I can’t remember the last time I had an orange, or an apple. Ooh, can you bring back some bananas? My mom makes the best banana pudding. And milk and Captain Crunch, if I can ask.”

  “The hell!” One Way snapped.

  “Mister, all I can do is ask, all you have to say is no,” the boy told him. “And I don’t want to be called boy, it’s derogatory. You can call me kid, or cool guy.”

  “Cool Guy?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Oh, for the love of all that is holy,” he said. “Woman, stand up and extend your arms.”

  “Why?”

  “Sizes for the clothes,” he told her.

  “Or you can just ask,” she said. “I’m a size 12, and I wear an eight shoe. The boy is a 29 waist and or medium. He wears a size 7 shoe.”

  One Way was looking at her chest. She blushed under his gaze and he actually thought it was cute. He said, “34 B?”

  “Yes,” she replied, lowering her eyes and looking away. She didn’t see him eye her hips for a size of underpants, but she could feel his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, and stop it.”

  The kid asked, “what is he thinking? Ooh, the size of your panties. Are you going to buy my Mom panties? I think that would be weird. Here Woman, I bought you these bloomers.” His face was scrunched up as he took looked at her bottom.

  “Boy, hush up,” she said to him, turning back to One Way who was actually smiling and showing teeth. His eyes were looking her up and down making the woman instantly cover her breast with folded arms. “Four of five days you said? And when you get back?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of a man. I’m not that good, but I’m not that bad to force you to use your body in repayment,” he told her. “It’s not my way, so don’t feel obligated. I know people. I can get you help.”

  The kid asked, “what if I want to stay with you?”

  It was One Way’s turn to scrunch up his face, “Why would you want to do that?”

  The kid lowered his head as he spoke, “because I know how it feels to be alone. It’s not a good feeling. If we stayed with you, you wouldn’t be alone.”

  “Who said I’m alone?” One Way answered getting to his feet. “Hey kid, get the notebook off my table, and let me walk you through the security and supplies. There’s enough food to last until I get back.”

  “One Way, thanks,” the woman said.

  “Yeah, whatever Woman,” he said.

  “I like Lady better than being called woman. Woman is possessive, as if I’m your woman, versus, hey Lady, make me a sandwich,” she said, biting on her bottom lip.

  She was cute.

  She was kind of adorable in a grungy, needing an hour in the beauty salon kind of way. He silently bet her feet needed to be shaved as well, and her toenails probably looked like she could hang up side down from a tree branch and hold on tight with her toes. He lowered his head to keep from laughing out loud at the image.

  One thing he was certain of, without a doubt, was the woman was going to drive him absolutely, bat shit crazy and get on his last tangible nerve and for the first time, in a very long time, he looked forward to what the next day would bring. However, first he had to go and kill a bastard, then go shopping for girlie products. The idea of seeing her in black lacy under garments lined with silk would be a luxury she more than likely wasn’t used to, and he could do that for her. He wanted to do that for her and purchase a nice designer bag, and some hoop earrings.

  “What in the hell is happening to me?” He remained grouchy for the rest of the night blaming the cute kid of Exit’s with the unicorn fetish for touching him and ruining his mojo. “I’m a bad man! I take out bad men. Why am I thinking about buying some chick underwear? I’m the Number One Traffic Sign in the Southeast, since The Mann doesn’t have a sign.”

  He was going to need some real help and tonight he planned to get it.

  Chapter Two- Ruffle

  Abner Mulroney ran through the dark alley at top speed. The sound of blood rushed in his ears as shoes, clad in in black wing tips pounded the pavement. His heart beat at a double pace as he dodged cans, bums sleeping in the alleyway and the darkness he could sense breathing down his neck. He’d done a bad thing to the wrong people and those people had found out. All he had to do was make it to his car, or the bus, whichever came first, and he was out of town.

  Panting hard he ran, as fast as his thick legs could take him, coming the end of the alley where a dark figure stepped from the shadows. He tried to slow his pace. His feet giving away as Abner tried to reverse direction. The man only ended up falling flat on his arse, as he held up his hands in self-defense.

  No words were spoken as a pain shot through his neck. Warmth from the blood spewed forth through grubby fingers as a flash from a camera phone caught him wide eye, understanding that he was in fact dying. His lips moved, and he asked the dark figure, “why?”

  “There’s a reason they are called secrets Abner,” the dark figure said, and walked away.

  Abner sputtered a few times before falling over into what he hoped was water. The last thing he desired or ever wanted to know was that he died in a puddle of pissy water, excreted by a homeless man who hadn’t washed his ass in a month of Sundays. At least, that’s what One Way wished for the man.

  One Way didn’t look back. His aim was true and unlike his counterpart Merge, he didn’t care to stay with them until they transitioned. In his mind, if you did something bad enough to have to meet him or Mr. Exit, then he had no kindness left to share. Still, it always befuddled him to no end that people did stupid things to other people and never expected to have to be held accountable. The bill always came due and for some reason, he felt his time was almost up and all his sins were crowding around him and closing in.

  Once he was settled for the evening, he would call the boy and make sure his Mom didn’t do anything stupid. She seemed like to the type to do stupid things like set out for Louisville on a ten-hour road trip with a kid in a hunk of junk car. Common sense would have told her to take a transit service for a few dollars, but he understood, she wanted to work her way across the nearly 700-mile trek and nearly got them both dead. In his line of work, there were definitive levels of dead. Abner in the alley was slow dead; not matter what that idiot did, he was simply inching his way towards an ugly ending.

  Carol Bilner, a job from last month was fast dead. Carol not only was stealing money from the government, but she was buying stupid toys with the funds that she flashed on her job and tried to option the rest of the ill-gotten secrets on the black market. People like Carol got dead fast once it was found out what they’d done.

  Abner’s wife, was a sick dead. She didn’t truly understand what her husband asked her to do, or what the implications meant, but she knew it was wrong. However, her love for Abner made her buy into his false sense of flashy dreams of how they would move from the two-bedroom shack they called a home, and into a grand house in the better parts of Columbus. One Way was certain Mrs. Mulroney believed Abner was going to cover her in jewels, when most nights, Abner was covering Lacey Blackmon with his body. She could smell the woman on him but her love was a sickness. Her job as a night time cleaning crew in the Federal Building gave her access to offices which Abner convinced her to take photos of items left on desks. Like a fool, she did as her man asked, knowing her actions could land her in prison where she die from a broken heart. Not that it really mattered; she’d died inside a long time ago. Tonight, with the assistance of One Way, she was going to die with her body.

  He arrived at the Mulroney home, just past eleven, letting himself into the back door. Mrs. Mulroney had fallen asleep in a ratty pink robe, tattered slippers which had seen better days and the television blaring loudly to keep her company while she thought she was waiting up for her husband.

&nbs
p; One Way didn’t bother to wake the woman. His knife moved like butter over her throat, silencing her scream as her eyes popped open and she gripped her skin. The dark covering over his face didn’t allow her to see the person. It was better this way. He placed a finger to his lips holding up his hand, as if he were asking her to keep calm as she died. He truly didn’t like histrionics and honestly, it was too late for her to do anything. The documents he sought were behind the painting on the wall of dogs playing poker. Two taps of his hammer and a drop of acid on the mechanism, opened the wall safe and he removed the documents Abner asked his wife to steal.

  The sound of keys jangling in the front door hastened his movement as he snatched all the papers in the safe and headed out the rear of the house. A loud scream was heard from whomever found the body, but he continued to walk down the alley, blending in with the night.

  At midnight, the documents were dropped at the federal building in a night deposit slot. It was too late to call the kid. Instead, he sent a text that he’d call in the morning. Luckily, in his tool box, he maintained several charged pre-paid phones. He used one to call his cell and passed it to the kid.

  “Keep a low profile and I’ll have a workable solution for you guys when I get back, if it means I’ll take you to Louisville myself,” he said. “Be back as soon as I can.”

  The idea of going home to someone who was waiting for him was an odd sensation. One that had visited him several times over the past few months and he was rapidly reaching the point of having to make the decision to continue, or retire his traffic sign. In a few days, he’d have to make a decision, one way or another. The woman and boy were only a blip on his radar of ugly shit coming his way, but like any problem, he’d think about, and work out a solution for all involved.

  It was what he did best.

  ****

  Just after ten in the morning, and two blocks away from where he needed to stop next, and Lord knows he truly didn’t want to, he pulled into a parking lot to call the kid. He located the number in his phone and dialed, waiting for the kid to answer. In some ways he didn’t want to hear the kid’s voice, in another way, he needed to know they were alright. The boy answered with a tentative hello.

  “Hey Cool Guy, how you doing?”

  One Way nearly heard the sigh of relief in the phone and could almost feel the kid smiling. The conversation would be brief if he could help it. One Way wasn’t much of a talker. He saw no reason to start changing up his habits now.

  “We’re good. You on your way home?”

  It was the way the kid said home that struck him hard on the chin like a sucker punch from a guy almost a foot shorter. He expected a punch but didn’t think he’d feel it as much as he did. He touched his chest trying to stop the tug at his heart strings.

  “No yet, got a few more things to handle,” One Way said, “are you guys okay? Your Mom didn’t go out running through the woods and ended up with a poison dart in her eyes, did she?”

  “Whoa! You have poison darts out there in the trees like Rocket the Raccoon and those guys who worked for the blue dude with the bad teeth?”

  “What?”

  “You know, the Guardians of the Galaxy,” the kid said.

  “Ahh, hadn’t seen that one,” he answered, trying to change the subject, “hey, make sure the Woman stays out of my room.”

  “Too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “Too late to tell her to stay out of your room.”

  “Why is she in my room?”

  “She changed the sheets, washed your pillows, dusted, cleaned your bathroom, did your laundry,” he said, “she just wants to repay you that’s all.”

  “That woman is a menace.”

  “She means well.”

  “Well-meaning people have ruined a great number of things in life,” One Way stated through gritted teeth, “Tell her to leave my things alone.”

  “Will do,” the kid said, pausing. “Are you okay? Is work going alright?”

  “What?”

  “Your job, is everything going okay...are you safe?”

  One Way didn’t know how to answer the question. The kid, who didn’t know whether or not he was going to throw them on the street when he returned home, was actually asking him if he was safe. He didn’t know whether to be offended or to think of it as endearing. Good grief, he mused. He was an assassin. A bad ass assassin with nearly fifty jobs under his belt. A thirteen-year-old without a pot to piss in or a window to throw the piss out, was worried about his safety.

  “I’m good,” was all he could muster.

  “Okay, I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I kind of like you,” the kid said. “Hey Mister, you want to talk to my Mom?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “If I talk to her, she’s going to think I kind of like her, and I’m not sure if I do,” he grumbled.

  “It’s cool, she does take some getting used to,” the kid said. “Will you call me back tonight, before you go to bed?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Please? I need to know you’re okay,” the kid pleaded.

  “Cool Guy, you’re not acting cool,” One Way warned, “you’re acting needy.”

  “I am needy,” the boy answered. “I want to learn things that you can teach me and for some reason, you give me hope. Hope is pretty much all I got right now, so be nice, call me tonight, and let me hope.”

  “Fine, I’ll call tonight,” One Way said, looking in the rear-view mirror at himself. He imagined driving to South Carolina to find Mr. Exit and kick his ass for letting that little Unicorn Girl touch him. Now he was feeling stuff and liked the idea of him, of all people, giving somebody hope. Most times in his life he felt like the Angel of Death anointed to issue a speedy death to offenders to the government of the good ole U.S. of A. One the other end was a 13-year-old that didn’t know what he did for a living and didn’t care. He simply wanted One Way to come home and to be safe.

  “Thanks Mister, and have a good day at work,” the kid said and ended the call.

  It took him fifteen and a half minutes to process the emotions and allow everything to flow through him before he started the car and put it in gear. His next stop was going to take everything he had to not only remain stoic, but not kill the person he needed to see.

  ****

  He arrived at a quarter to eleven, pulling into the drive way, parking behind the pink Cadillac. It had been years since he’d seen the man and often tried to avoid him as much as possible but One Way needed professional help. He also needed guidance from an unofficial member of the Southeast Construction Crew, who served as a liaison when shit got sticky and clung to his butt hairs. One Way parked the Tundra, dragging himself from the truck and up the front porch stairs. He rang the doorbell and waited. The wait wasn’t long as the man came to the door with his mouth wide open and eyes bucked wide.

  “Well, smack my ass, ride me hard and call me Sue Ellen! If it ain’t the one and only Uriel Tamagotchi!” Tim Johnson cried out.

  “Hey Tim,” One Way said, “can I come in?”

  “Hell yeah,” Tim said opening the door to reveal himself in a pink full-length kimono and matching pair of Geta shoes, with the hard wooden bottoms. “Don’t tell me that all these years later, you’ve decided to come out of the closet and I’m going to be your first and teach you the ways of love?”

  Before Tim got the word love out of his mouth, One Way was half way down the front steps, getting the hell out of Tim’s house. Tim kicked off the shoes and followed him out of the house, standing on the front porch yelling at One Way.

  “Bitch, get your ass back in here and tell me what you need,” Tim shouted, ducking after he saw movement of One Way’s hand, knowing he was throwing a ninja star at him, which landed in the wood frame of the screen door. “Oh no the hell you didn’t either Uriel! I will come down there and beat the Asian off of you!”

  “I’d like to see you try,” One Way said, planting
his feet shoulder width apart.

  “I seem to recall kicking your ass when we were kids,” Tim said. “I can still kick your ass...wait, hold up. Is my cousin okay? Did you come here to talk to me about Yield? Oh Lord, my cousin. Is he dead? Dear merciful Jesus. I need to call his Momma.”

  “Oh my God, shut the hell up before I cut out your loud-mouthed tongue,” One Way snapped. “I haven’t seen or hear from Brody, so I guess he’s fine.”

  “Then what in the fuck do you want if this ain’t a boodie call and my cousin is fine,” Tim said, smacking his lips and placing his hand on his non-existent hips.

  “I needed some help outfitting a woman and a kid,” One Way said. “I’m not shopping for them and I don’t have time to drive all the way to Pennsylvania to see Brody and get clothing from his lending closet. I wanted to pay you to shop for the woman and kid while I went and did some work today.”

  “You want me to go shopping for a woman and kid, for you?” Tim said, blinking several times.

  “Yes, and I was planning to take you to dinner tonight for your troubles,” One Way said, regretting opening his mouth.

  “You want to take me to dinner. In public. In front of people and stuff?”

  “Stupid me thought maybe a steak, a bottle of good wine, we talk, but you make everything so difficult,” One Way growled at him.

  Tim was still standing there looking at the man as if he’d grown a second penis that was suddenly waving at him from an open zipper.

  “Budget?”

  “I have about a grand,” One Way said, “they need everything, including...Lord help me get through this, lady products, hair products, shoes, underwear for both. Well, the boy doesn’t need any lady products.”

  “You getting hitched too?”

  “No, they were in trouble,” he explained. “I’m just trying to get them a solid set of clothes and maybe get them to Bleu Neary. Tim, I don’t know. I was hoping that over dinner you could provide me some counsel. I don’t want to call Gabe. So far, the other members of the crew who called him ended up married. I’m not ready for that, and I don’t think I like the woman.”