Geronimo by Barry B. Longyear

Author:Barry B. Longyear [Longyear, Barry B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Enchanteds Publishing
Published: 2019-12-04T21:00:00+00:00

Back in the ten on Rivas Street with Dylan fixing Mrs. Sado’s chain link fence, my brother wanted to know what Nacho had wanted with me.

“It’s a job across the border in Nuevo Laredo. Might be some shooting. He wanted to make sure I could shoot.”

“Cartel shit?” he asked, his eyebrows up.

I nodded.

“Those guys are badass, hermano. No law and a heap of money that keeps away the law.”

“This is a cartel underboss,” I said. “In fact, I think this time we’re working for the cartel. Don Pablo has a bad smell in his basement and wants us to see what it is.”

“And if it is what this Don Pablo thinks it is,” said Dylan angrily, “He want Nacho and you guys to clean it up.”

I nodded.

“Why you, Jer? Why’d Nacho pick you?”

I thought on it for a few seconds. “I guess he wants a killer who doesn’t look like a killer.”

He held out his hands. “So, bro: You a killer? You ever kill someone?”

“Not yet,” I answered. “But I think it’s coming.”

Just then Mrs. Sada came out of her front door, the screen door slamming behind her. She was carrying a chipped blue plate with two tiny cakes on it. “These are for you, boys!” she called.

Not to take them would have made her a charity case and would, therefore, been a grave insult. Hence my brother and I took out a moment to eat the little delicious cakes that seemed like a fudge brownie filled with chocolate mousse, a chocolate orange slice on top. Dylan would not let her go until she shared with him her recipe.

While that entertainment was going on, I thought about Dylan’s question: Was I a killer? Could I become one? Creating a life would seem to be a more significant event than ending one, yet creating them was usually by accident or like winning a low-paying lottery.

A guy comes at me with a weapon or wants to do me physical harm, no problem. I could kill dozens like that and it would not bother me. Could I kill a kidnapper, if I was the one kidnapped?

I thought on it. I decided I could kill a kidnapper even if someone else was the victim. Similarly, I could kill someone stealing from my boss. I didn’t know if I could kill a target who was someone I didn’t know and whose deeds I didn’t know. “Go kill that dude because I told you to,” was a situation I hoped never to face because, in such a case, I didn’t know what I would do. Hesitation in such situations is never healthy.

Mrs. Sada came up to me, her trembling hands holding the plate with one little cake remaining. I thanked her, took a bite, my mouth was aroused with orange plus chocolate. “This is better than best, Señora Sada; delicious. Thank you very much. You gave my brother the recipe”?

“O, sí,” She laughed. “He said he would hold me hostage in his kitchen until I gave it up.

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