The Wizards of Central Park West: Ultimate Urban Fantasy by Arjay Lewis

Author:Arjay Lewis [Lewis, Arjay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arjay Entertainment, Inc.
Published: 2018-03-04T22:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Six

Luis found it hard to keep his eyes open as he sat in his parked car in the late spring air. Eddie had gone into the townhouse hours ago, and after the strange man and woman went in, little had occurred.

Luis noticed some strange coruscation in an upper window at one point, like someone taking flash photographs, and the curtains fluttered and bucked as if from a breeze. But, the movement had not been enough to give him a glimpse of the interior, even with his binoculars. Strangely enough, droplets of water appeared on the glass, as if a storm occurred inside the house.

Luis sat back in his seat and thought it would soon be time for a cup of coffee and a restroom break.

His cell phone rang.

“Vasquez.”

“Luis, when are you comin’ hoooome?” whined Maria in his ear.

“Maria, I’m on stakeout. I tol’ you I was workin’ a case tonight.”

“Luis, you promised to take me out for dinner two weeks ago. I’ve been cooped up in this house with your children…”

As Luis recalled, she had been a healthy participant in the act of creating their six kids, but he also knew it would be foolish to mention that at this particular moment.

“I know, baby, I know. But a big shot got himself murdered, and we all got to work overtime. You know I can’t talk about it, ’specially not over the phone.”

“I don’ see you no more! And what do I tell the kids? They want their papa. You know how the boys get when you’re not around.”

Luis, in spite of himself, felt a lump in his throat. He missed the children, too. His four-year-old, Rosita, was one of those dream children everyone wishes for. No matter how bad his mood when he got home, she would climb into his lap, give him a hug, and his cares would vanish.

He also missed the rambunctious boys: Manuel, who was ten, Roberto, eight, and Julio, six. Each was a handful, but they looked up to him worshipfully as if he was an ancient god arrived from Mount Olympus. They loved their mother, but he was the one who kept them in line.

Luis was familiar with how quickly their attitudes became snotty and their chores slovenly if he wasn’t there to remind them how men should behave.

Lastly, the littlest girls, Bonita, two and-a-half, who he called Bonnie, and Cerista, about to be one, named in honor of his partner’s wife.

Six children, all under the age of eleven. He and Maria would have a blessed event every two years or so, which made the priest of their local church in the Bronx claim that they were good Catholics.

Luis didn’t mind. He came from a large family and adored each child, but he knew how it could overwhelm Maria. Always one child in diapers, usually one on the breast, and all of the falls and hurts and arguments, while he spent his days finding killers in the city’s dark underbelly.

Luis knew that despite their mutual hot tempers, they each saw the other as an oasis from their difficult jobs.

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