THE SHADOW WALKERS2: PLANES OF THE UNRULED by ERICK T. RHETTS

Author:ERICK T. RHETTS [RHETTS, ERICK T.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Blue Ink Publishing
Published: 2021-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

9

It wasn't until later that Sunday afternoon, after attending church with her parents and having lunch at a diner, both on Main Street in East Islip just west of the arboretum, that Alicia caught up with Carnelo. He slept-in having worked until midnight, calling her on her cell phone a little after one. Telling her parents where she was off to, something she did more for their peace of mind than necessity, especially following the 'incident," she went out the front door. "I have my cell phone," she confirmed. That, too, gave them peace of mind.

Out of the house, she walked down to the end of the street. Carnelo was waiting on the next corner, the same one he was on when she saw him that first time. It made her smile.

As it was drizzling, and had been for most of the day, they walked back to the house in which Carnelo stayed with his aunt—she was renting the basement apartment—and went around the side of the house to the back gate. They sat together on the patio beneath the aluminum awning on two lawn chairs, side-by-side. The drizzle pinged steadily overhead.

Their small talk, started during the short walk from the corner, naturally gravitated to Carnelo's social issue. Alicia did no prompting. "There were only two texts, both yesterday," he told Alicia, opening his Razor and going to the screen. "The first one was around four. Cuchillo." He showed her. "He asked if I was home yet. Like he knew I was working or something. I didn't answer, just like you said." As she watched, he thumbed further down the screen, a handful of texts but not many, all from other contacts. He stopped. "Then there's this one. He sent it at seven-thirty something." He let her read it: "Time to go meet your shorty." Then the line below it: "I'll do her extra hard, just for you, cabrón." Carnelo gave Alicia a moment to finish reading.

In all earnest, she asked, "Who's your shorty?"

Carnelo leaned back in his chair, the legs grating at the sand on the patio brick. "He means my girlfriend."

Alicia nodded. It was accompanied by an expression etched with restrained attitude but obvious. "Just because I'm a white girl in a Catholic school doesn't mean I don't know what 'shorty' means."

Looking straight out into the backyard, Carnelo took in a quieting breath, his upper teeth biting on one side of his lower lip. He was giving thought to what he was going to say and how he wanted it to sound. He didn't want Alicia thinking he was jumping to any conclusions. They'd never used 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' with each other. And he didn't want to come across as making any type of accusation. What exactly would he be accusing her of? It wasn't like she actually spoke to Cuchillo. It just wasn't possible. Was it? She didn't have his number, didn't even know his real name. He took the safe way out, changing the tack without changing the course.

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