Adelaide Literary Magazine No. 45, February 2021

INDEPENDENT REVISTA
MONTHLY LITERÁRIA
LITERARY INDEPENDENTE
MAGAZINE
MENSAL

ADELAIDE FOUNDERS / FUNDADORES
Stevan V. Nikolic & Adelaide Franco Nikolic
Independent Monthly Literary Magazine
Revista Literária Independente Mensal EDITOR IN CHIEF / EDITOR-CHEFE
Year VI, Number 45, February 2021 Stevan V. Nikolic
Ano VI, Número 45, fevereiro 2021
[email protected]
ISBN: 978-1-954351-81-3
MANAGING DIRECTOR / DIRECTORA EXECUTIVA
Adelaide Literary Magazine is an independent inter- Adelaide Franco Nikolic
national monthly publication, based in New York and
Lisbon. Founded by Stevan V. Nikolic and Adelaide Franco GRAPHIC & WEB DESIGN
Nikolic in 2015, the magazine’s aim is to publish quality Adelaide Books LLC, New York
poetry, fiction, nonfiction, artwork, and photography, as
well as interviews, articles, and book reviews, written in CONTRIBUTING AUTHORS IN THIS ISSUE
English and Portuguese. We seek to publish outstanding
literary fiction, nonfic-tion, and poetry, and to promote Callan Preece, Leryl Joseph, Bruce Kamei,
the writers we publish, helping both new, emerging, and Thomas Belton, Christine Hand,
established authors reach a wider literary audience.
Julian Grant, Ross Mayo, Timothy Resau,
A Revista Literária Adelaide é uma publicação men- James Blackburn, Robert Parker,
sal internacional e independente, localizada em Nova Nicole Carpio, Nancy Chadwick,
Iorque e Lisboa. Fundada por Stevan V. Nikolic e Ade- Audrey Renner, Dex Campbell,
laide Franco Nikolic em 2015, o objectivo da revista é Robert Sachs, Jacob Hengen,
publicar poesia, ficção, não-ficção, arte e fotografia de
qualidade assim como entrevistas, artigos e críticas Joseph Hodges, Jaimie Eaker, Chris Viner,
literárias, escritas em inglês e por-tuguês. Pretendemos Ashley Jones, Norberto Rivera – Duran,
publicar ficção, não-ficção e poesia excepcionais assim Alexander McNeil, Daniel Pié, Alyssa Taylor,
como promover os escritores que publicamos, ajudan- Wayne Dickerson, Pamela Page Murray,
do os autores novos e emergentes a atingir uma audiên- Tailyn Augustine, Alexandra Carmichael,
cia literária mais vasta.
Nathan Sweem, Michael Riordan,
(http://adelaidemagazine.org) Jennifer Blanke, Anita Lekic, Pete Warzel,

Published by: Adelaide Books, New York Elizabeth Mayorka, Brittany Male,
244 Fifth Avenue, Suite D27 Jessica Lorraine, David Romanda,
New York NY, 10001 Anna Kapungu, Daniela Vecchia,
e-mail: [email protected] Sarah Stephens, Lora Robinson,
phone: (917) 477 8984 Michael Duke, Pavel Sfera, Terry Brinkman,
http://adelaidebooks.org Girard Tournesol, Lynette Thorstensen,
Aracelly Campo, Abena Ntoso, Lisa Molina,
Copyright © 2021 by Adelaide Literary Magazine John Raffetto, Regina Saad, Joan McNerney,
Stan Duncan, James White, Jeffrey Kass,
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written Lolita Ditzler
permission from the Adelaide Literary Maga-zine
Editor-in-chief, except in the case of brief quo-tations
embodied in critical articles and reviews.

CONTENTS / CONTEÚDOS THAT NIGHT
by Jaimie Eaker 102
SHORT STORIES STALKER
by Chris Viner 105
ME AND TIME TEMPTATION
by Callan Preece 7 by Ashley Jones 112
AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT
PAINT, WILL, CRY by Daniel Pié 114
by Leryl Joseph 12 THE MAN
by Alyssa Taylor 123
FLAMENCO THE LOCKER
by Bruce Kamei 15 by Wayne Dickerson 126
LUCKY PENNY
THE PLAY’S THE THING by Page Powers 129
by Thomas Belton 25 DEAD TO ME
by Tailyn Augustine 131
ESCORTED TO DEATH ZEN AND THE ART OF APOLOGIES
by Christine Hand 35 by Alexandra Carmichael 133

NINA HEARTS RASHAAD FOREVER NONFICTION
by Julian Grant 44 FEAR OF REJECTION CAN DROWN
by Nathan Sweem 141
AGORAPHOBIA ALEXA, PLAY RAIN
by Ross Mayo 46 by Michael Riordan 143
KEYSTONE STREET
A WOMEN OF THE PERIOD by Jennifer Blanke 146
by Timothy Resau 52 THE PHOTOGRAPHS
by Anita Lekic 148
MY PORCELAIN GIRL WEST
by James L. Blackburn 57 by Pete Warzel 150
SPEED
MEEK by Elizabeth Mayorka 153
by Robert Parker 63
POETRY
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES CONTRAST
by Nicole Carpio 78 by Brittany Male 163

WHEN THE SUN KISSED THE RIVER 3
by Nancy Chadwick 80

ME AND THE FISH
ATTACHED TO MY SKIN
by Audrey Renner 86

THE BUTTON MAKES THREE
by Dex Campbell 88

LOVE AND HERMAN COGAN
by Robert Sachs 91

CONTROL
by Jacob Hengen 96

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
by Joseph Hodges 99

Adelaide Literary Magazine

IT WILL BE OK, I LIED INTERVIEWS
by Jessica Lorraine 167
STAN DUNCAN
TRUTH Author of
by David Romanda 169 THE FIRE ON POTEAU MOUNTAIN 221

VOICELESS JAMES WHITE
by Anna Kapungu 171 Author of
BORDERS IN PARADISE and
SAUDADES RANSOMS ARE FOR AMATEURS 226
by Daniela Vecchia 174
JEFFREY KASS
ERASE THE BROKEN THINGS Author of
by Sarah Stephens 177 THE RONA DIARIES:
ONE WORLD – TWO PANDEMICS 230
MOON GIRL
by Lora Robinson 183 LOLITA DITZLER
Author of
SMILE THROUGH IT THE VIEW FROM
by Michael Duke 186 A MIDWEST FERRIS WHEEL 233

CHOIR OF ONE
by Pavel Sfera 188

CHURCH BRICK
by Terry Brinkman 190

THAT DAY
by Girard Tournesol 191

WANTING
by Lynette Thorstensen 193

ORBIT
by Aracelly Campo 198

THEORY OF RELATIVITY
by Abena Ntoso 201

SPIRALS OF SOUND
by Lisa Molina 204

ALL NIGHT
by John Raffetto 212

IN DEFENSE OF ISRAEL
by Regina Saad 215

BLOWN AWAY
by Joan McNerney 217

4

SHORT STORIES



ME AND TIME

by Callan Preece

And then we crossed a country. We crossed How you could exist as a single thing for
together—in the Corolla with him driving years and then suddenly fracture into so
because I never learnt to drive and with our many constituent parts.
stuff lodged in the backseat in such a way
that furniture would dig into your back. He We slept in hostels and reclaimed our
drove and I fiddled with the radio or talk- youth. Small and unassuming places full of
ed about the kids or looked out at the cars people where I was always paranoid that
and the road and sometimes I tried to read the car would be missing in the morning.
him things from my books—little things Places where everything was transitory
about patterns and places and people too and the people were transitory and where
distant to be real that I’d read in a mock I’d wonder what it meant to be loved by
serious voice to make him laugh. And he anyone. Places where I’d conclude that he
would laugh. Usually he’d say something must love me, where the same thought
funny too and that would sustain us for a would return in this eternal and sad and dis-
while and then we’d go back to the silence turbing way, where I found it strange how
and the watching of the road and the mu- he hardly talked as he drove and how he
sic and the way things seem to unfurl with was always so excited to arrive and never
time. A sort of rhythm to it; the quiet and to be going anywhere.
then the sound and then the quiet again;
the outlines and forms of the road. Some- I’d wanted to fly to our new home but
times we wouldn’t talk for so long and that he’d wanted to drive and I didn’t want to dis-
would bother me, make me wonder if this appoint him. Once the kids had left I figured
stillness was new or if it had always been we could both need the distraction anyway,
there—a natural thing just now revealed and so we drove and he was so excited, as
after years of screaming children. This qui- if a whole world had appeared just for him.
et that I noticed and I wasn’t sure if he no- The hostels were his idea too, and I hated
ticed, a thing that existed in backgrounds them; these small cramped hotels where
for years until it became overbearing and we slept in bunkbeds surrounded by people
everything, a silence that seemed to stoop and you had to a hang a towel over your
over you and guide the car as it drove. You bunk if you wanted privacy. All these young
wondered whether it’s the silence or the people. He’d go off alone and leave me
observing of the silence that’s wrong. there, hiding behind my towel, surrounded
by the young. He’d talk to them—try and

7

Adelaide Literary Magazine

adhere himself into their world and exist could become so angry. He didn’t yell be-
as one of them—while I hid away and tried cause he never yelled, but you could feel
to make myself small, just this sagging and the difference, the way the car would lose
aging thing. It seems after a certain age you all the magic that comes with words. You’d
have to start making room, as if it becomes know that in some way you were respon-
almost wrong to want space. I was so mad sible for all wrongs. You’d feel all that furni-
at him for leaving me and going off with ture digging into your back: the sins of the
them, it seemed he was in some way re- world condensed into physical space.
belling against a natural order, abandoning
something higher than anything we could He’d want to shout but he wouldn’t and
understand. I almost wished that he would, for things
to progress and change as opposed to this
It was part of a change I’d noticed in silence that seemed to stretch out in all
him, a change or a way he’d always been directions. It was as if it was conveying a
that had never been clear to me until now. meaning too vast for language to compre-
He seemed distant, jumpy, as if a million hend. We’d keep driving and all I could do
alchemical bonds within him were tearing was make myself small, hide away and try
away from themselves. It seemed impos- and become nothing. And then we’d arrive
sible to imagine all the things he could do. somewhere and he’d find some guests to
There was something about the journey go off with, the young ones, the ones who
that made him cold and strange, different might just get to live forever, and I’d be
from how I remembered him. And it both- alone again, wondering about him and who
ered me. It was that more than anything he used to be.
else that made the hostels so horrible.
We’d never spend more than a day or
It was easier when we were driving. two before moving on. He was restless
Sometimes we moved so fast that you could and the progress made him happy and I
barely remember the scene—just the speed suppose all I’ve ever wanted is to see him
and the way we could laugh together and happy. We’d leave in the mornings, mostly
pass sunflowers and how everything was so in silence but in a calmer silence, a stillness
fresh and alive in the way only the country born out of low energy and the hopes that
can be. It was when he drove that we’d the early hours bring. We’d try and forget
talk, about silly and inconsequential things, yesterday and all those previous yesterdays,
letting the sounds and shapes of words sit together and travel, talk about the kids
smooth over any cracks that were forming or the new house, sometimes we’d search
between us. When it was like that I’d think through the radio for all those odd stations
that this was enough, that this could be firing their frequencies across the country—
enough for anybody. I’d find a passage in a DJs shouting in foreign languages and alien
book and make him laugh. We’d talk about sounds, the pop songs that we did recog-
the kids. He was still distant, but he was nise (how pop music seemed the same ev-
manageable, and for a while you could al- erywhere now, the same patterns seeping
most forget about it all, at least until he took to the surface). There’d also be static some-
a wrong turn, or I said something I shouldn’t times far out between towns, places where
have, or the furniture sticking into our backs the wavelengths hadn’t yet penetrated, and
became too much. When that happened he there we just had our silence. There’d be

8

Revista Literária Adelaide

the quiet and the country and the way you We were halfway to our new home and it
could drive for miles without seeing a single seemed endlessly far away.
person, and in those moments I mostly
thought about him. It was becoming strange, And I tried a few things. Sometimes,
seeing him as he was then and also imag- when he’d let me, I’d go with him when he
ining him as the man before. Had he always explored the hostels; I’d speak to the young
been so angry? I wondered if you can only people and try to be unafraid, drink when
ever reveal the real you once it’s too late to he’d drink, overwhelm myself with the night
do anything else; certain songs creeping in and try to pretend with him that we were
slowly, one by one, until suddenly they’re young until the mornings came and the
all you can hear. We’d be in those points world would become shaky and painful. It
between places where static reigned and was nice being something he could enjoy.
I’d think about the him that existed inside And when we were out together I did try
of me, this unchanging and shining person, to know him—not as his imagined self
and how there was this other him beside but as he was—this searching thing, this
me now that I didn’t know, that seemed to person that seemed so desperate when
be a whole new creature that bubbled up he was around these young people, acting
in notes over the years until there was this like them, living for some possibility it was
thing that I could never understand. And unlikely he’d ever see. He was looking for
there was this perfect person and then this some future and I wanted the past and it
new person, there were all these incongru- seemed such a sin to just exist in a moment
ities that seemed to make up a mind. forever. And I couldn’t get how he could
handle these headaches. We’d drive with
Static would ebb and new songs would them and it was stupid that we’d ever tried
appear—different tunes with different DJs being something we weren’t. The hangovers
and different languages and then the same would make him angry too, and that would
pop songs again. The road stretched out add another colour to the journey, every-
and we watched the sheer incomprehen- thing becoming icy with that same silence,
sible power of space unfold through the static appearing through the radio. At our
glass screen. It’s incredible how there can next destination he’d go out alone, the one
be so much out there and there still never after that I might come with him; and it’s
be enough room. There was a person next strange, the patterns we develop. It seemed,
to me and a person within me and it was with the hangovers and the static and the
becoming harder and harder to marry those way he looked so intently upon the road,
two lives, DJs on the radio raving about things that there really was no moment you could
we couldn’t understand, everybody so angry. cling to. That there was just the constant
He wouldn’t speak to me and there was movement and repeated cycles, as if it’s the
something so wrong and I didn’t know what natural state of objects to be in motion, as
was wrong, just that there was a person here if stasis was just this odd form of protest.
that I didn’t know. It seemed that maybe the Things repeated and never arrived any-
world was just filled with the lies that your where, static in the air, and I missed living
mind wanted to see, people these disparate, in our home with our children so much and
distant things, your idea of them no more I resented him so much; it seemed ridicu-
real than the sounds that appeared between lous—so stupid to think you could exist as
places, the dead air of creaking, far off space. anything but this infernal moving thing.

9

Adelaide Literary Magazine

And we’d move to the next place, then inside differed from the outside, with all
the next, tracing lines closer and closer this heat inside him. The heat and the car’s
to our final destination, some home we’d heat and all the heat powering the earth far
never seen except in pictures. below—combustion and chemicals and fire
and the force of all those breaking particles.
And one night we were in some hostel Almost as if nothing can be done without
I can’t remember now; it was one of the that destruction.
good days where he’d let me go with him
on his night and we’d met some transient It’s incredible how much heat is inside
people whose names I didn’t hear prop- everything.
erly and he was telling stories—things from
before me and before the kids, sometimes To see him like that, angry and sad and
things that happened in tandem with but pathetic, so broken due to a few transient
without me. We were all drinking some- people, it was almost nice. He seemed mal-
thing hard to pronounce and bitter that leable again, easier to match to that inner
stained your teeth red, and I remember version of him inside me, both of us to-
noticing how these young people weren’t gether on the bunk and me feeling all those
finding him funny. (It’s strange how much radiating particles. I thought he might cry
lesser you can be around those you don’t and maybe he did cry. And that helped too,
know.) They weren’t finding him funny and seeing him pathetic and human. I caressed
it seemed to me that we were just old. He his palm and stroked all those thousands
kept telling stories and they didn’t seem to of particles of him. I held his hand and he
care and kept glancing away at the gate and turned to me and then his arm was around
the outside foreign air. I kept thinking what me and it was wonderful; it was us alone
it must look like—us keeping them trapped, together and being together, it felt in that
the aged feeding on the young. You could moment as if everything could be forgiven,
feel the inevitabilities in the air as the that there was nothing to forgive. We un-
red drink went round, how the transients dressed each other with a touch guiding to
started answering less and less, until there a thing long dead. Then the heat of bodies
were hardly any words anywhere, until they touching. Heat and the way your molecules
made their excuses and were gone, these contain all this heat, the way bonds form
transient people, lost somewhere out in and break and the sheer power that comes
the city. And then we were alone. Everyone from combustion. I felt him and everything
with any life in them were out to the places he was and I tried to contain him, his smell
only they know about. We were alone in and warmth and the red stained teeth. We
the usual silence with just the sound of hung a towel over the bunk to hide our-
the outside world bleeding into the inside, selves. His hand was in mine and then we
and he seemed so hurt by that, this being weren’t diverging things but a single thing—
alone, this being rejected. I think I noticed old atoms connected by older things, mol-
for the first time how small he’d become, ecules joined by ancient and sacred bonds.
such a child (this old child), seething in this Then hearing those outside and his breath
quiet, so angry and so sad at these random and feeling the exertion of using long dor-
transient people for leaving us, leaving him. mant muscles. It felt so good to appreciate
Angry at all the voices outside speaking and the sheer magnitude of a person—a knowl-
laughing and existing, angry at the way our edge of how the world was a pit that sucked

10

Revista Literária Adelaide

and dragged you down and how it was only and sound of combusting particles, and we
by the invisible chemical chains of others didn’t talk to each other; we hadn’t talked
that you didn’t plummet into oblivion. Us all morning. It’s amazing how much silence
together, our bonds bound. He took me there can be around people. The memory of
and we were a single thing and it seemed the previous night seemed to be burning
ridiculous to be anything else but there. through everything and I didn’t ask him
And it was like that, with his breath and about it and it seemed impossible to ask.
my breath and the heat of fusing particles, There was just the motion; the motion and
the towel hanging as a barrier between us the maybe unspoken knowledge between
and the world, the way bodies radiate heat, us of those tiny molecular chains that tied
reactions and hormones and the sounds of us together. All the bonds that bind. It
flesh; and then, slowly, he became tired and seems after a while those connections can
I think I became tired, our bodies showed form with anything, the world growing
that hint of decay, the ceasing of exertion, more frightening as you age until you just
and then we couldn’t continue anymore. need something to cling to over this giant
It was over and we were separate people and seething hole. We saw another hostel
and those molecular bonds were still there and I went out into the night with him again
but were hidden again. I don’t think he ever and we drank again and it all seemed forget-
finished. table. I remember I tried to be something
worth loving. Another day we drove and he
When I came back from the bathroom brushed his hand over mine and I felt those
he was already asleep, the moment gone, fusing atoms and I think he tried to do the
just another of those unclassified emotions, same. The days upon days and the way
another fleeting feeling damned by its lack things fall away from time and soon we
of symbol. I crept into the bunk above his were nearing wherever we were going and
and thought about just how terrible the in- we braced ourselves for that coming thing.
side of a mind can be. When we did laugh together it was always
wonderful. It was as if all life could be saved
In the morning we got in the car and we by the delusions formed by such small and
travelled and there was one fewer day be- isolated instants. Those inscrutable hidden
tween us and some place we’d never been bonds that bind the old together.
to. We felt the motion of the car, the heat

About the Author

Callan Preece is a writer from Birmingham, England, who
mostly tells small stories about small people that he finds
interesting. He has publications in the likes of Piker Press,
New World Writing, and the Potato Soup Journal, and he
hopes to be published elsewhere soon. Callan is currently
training to be a math teacher though he expects that won’t
last too long, economies being what they are. Mostly he’s
just grateful for anyone taking the time to read his stories.

11

PAINT, WILL, CRY

by Leryl Joseph

Leonard was always the expressive one, powder-white canvas held up by a cheap
not Will. Leonard was an artist, so expres- and splintery wooden easel, and the paint-
sion was his thing. Everyone kept telling crusted brushes next to the mason jar of
Will that it was strange he hadn’t cried yet, water and temporarily pristine primary
but crying wasn’t his thing. That, too, was colors. There were five other stations set
Leonard’s. Will was sick of everyone saying up the same way—two on each side of the
that, and he was sick of thinking of how he table, and one more at the far end, across
told Leonard to get a “real job” before they from Amy’s set up. Amy gave him a close-
hung up the phone that last time. mouthed smile as she handed him a stiff
apron and walked the length of the room
“Are you Will?” to her station. He placed it on the stool and
sat down.
“Hi. Yes, Will, for the uh, paint class,” he
said. Will couldn’t believe his life. The blinding
lights made his incessant headache worse.
“Hi Will. I’m Amy, the instructor. The rest The fumes didn’t help either. It made him
of the class is already in there, so we can sick, not because it was strong, but because
head back. Is there anyone else joining you? it tricked him into thinking his brother would
The sheet said one, but—” come shuffling out of the bathroom, buoyant
and mosaic from another day of work.
“No, just me.”
Instead, out of the bathroom tumbled a
“Okay, great.” She motioned for him to gaggle of pink, white, and giggles. He had
follow her down a dark, cramped hallway failed to pay attention to the “sip” part of
and into the aggressively lit studio. Paint the “Paint and Sip” class he signed up for,
splatters covered every surface. Mediocre as well as the “no refunds” in the fine print.
pieces scattered around the room taunted
him. The prized depictions of the world’s “You’re getting married!” four of the five
most breathtaking images depicted as women yelled in unison.
mundane scenes. Or worse, the abstract
visualizations of emotions he would never A pop sounded from behind his easel
understand. She showed him to his painting at the other end of the table, followed by
station at the end of the communal table. boisterous, high-pitched cheers. Cheap, al-
With squinted eyes, he studied his sur- cohol-scented effervescence permeated
roundings: the creaky wooden stool, the the air and mixed with the pungent acrylic

12

Revista Literária Adelaide

that he smelled even in his dreams—night- unknowingly switched from acrylic paint to
mares—he didn’t know what to call them. watercolor. He tried to blink away the illu-
sion and suddenly, he felt a drop of liquid hit
It made his stomach lurch. his bare knee. He paused.

“Miss, uh, Amy? How long is the class Another drop.
again?” He knew, but he hoped he was
late enough to hurry time along the way it And another.
seemed to always want to do for him.
His brush fell to the floor as he placed his
“An hour,” Amy said. “We’re a little behind, head in his hands and wept.
but don’t worry. This painting won’t be too
complex.” When Amy finally came to check on
him, she gasped and placed a hand on his
“Oh, okay.” Clearly, he thought, eyes fixed shoulder. “Oh, Will.”
on the pieces on the wall. Leonard would
have loved this. Embarrassment flooded his body. He
was afraid to look. The instructor’s reaction
“Don’t be nervous! You look like you have made it clear that not only did he openly cry
an artist in there somewhere,” she said with in a Paint and Sip class, but he clearly didn’t
a wink. “Okay, class. Let’s get started!” have the artist gene that she believed. With
a loud and heavy sniffle, he lifted his head,
The bachelorette party whooped and steady streams still emptying from his soul
clinked their glasses. and falling from his eyes. The bachelorette
party gathered around his station and made
They were meant to paint a house on a varying noises of surprise.
hill. Amy talked them through the basics of
mixing colors, picking the right brush, and the “Um… That’s definitely not a house on a
amount of pressure to use, all while trying hill,” one said.
to lead by example. Will tuned her out. He’d
heard this lecture from Leonard many times. “I’d love to know why this guy is even
Never asked for it, but Leonard couldn’t help here,” said another.
but wax poetic about his one true love.
Will wondered the same.
Will dipped and blended and let the
coarse hairs of the brush kiss the canvas, He finally looked up. On the easel,
and the sound of prosecco-powered giggles staring back at him was his version of his
and seemingly endless toasts faded away. favorite pair of eyes. The crow’s feet crinkle
Leonard’s voice replaced Amy’s, and for at the corners. The coffee and caramel pu-
the first time, he let his brother teach him pils that he always envied. Pure white irises
how to paint. Shapes and colors began to fill that shone with wonder.
Will’s canvas as Leonard’s voice whispered
deep inside his inner ear. “Who is it?” Amy asked, eyes fixed on Will’s
glistening easel.
The colors on the once-blank canvas
began to form a watery blur as if Will had “My brother,” Will said. Another tear fell.

13

Adelaide Literary Magazine

About the Author

Leryl Joseph is a passionate storyteller and creative thinker. She published her debut novel,
The Table, in 2017 through an independent press. Currently working as a Copywriter and
Creative Director, she continues to write and create with one purpose in mind: to help others
feel less alone. She hopes to inspire others to do the same. Learn more about Leryl and her
work on her website leryl.com.

14

FLAMENCO

by Bruce Kamei

The last two days were extremely long for experienced agents threw up. There were
Immigration and Naturalization Service Spe- even ten children, ages three to five. The
cial Agent Takeshi Tsukemoto, for the INS parents brought them to work since they
served a warrant for illegals at a sweatshop. couldn’t afford babysitters or were sick.
Eighty-five aliens were taken into custody,
and they had to be processed for remov- As standard operating procedure, a
al; he spent thirty hours on the processing briefing was held prior to the warrant ser-
floor over two days. Two sweatshops were vice. Special Agent Peter Kim was assigned
served warrants every week. the role of an Asian delivery boy to lure the
enforcers to his truck, where other agents
The conditions at these sweatshops kept would detain them. Five agents were as-
getting worse with every warrant service, signed to secure the back door so the workers
thought Takeshi. This sweatshop had three couldn’t jump over the back fence and run
enforcers guarding the entrances. After the onto the freeway. The California Highway
employees went inside, the enforcers pad- Patrol stopped freeway traffic in both direc-
locked the doors. Inside, the rows of sewing tions prior to serving the warrant. Five other
machines were arranged like a checker- agents were to climb onto the roof so people
board. Beside every sewing machine was a could not jump off the sides of the building.
piece work rack with three-foot high steel
poles in the front and on the sides so the After the warrant was served and com-
completed work could be stacked straight pleted, the agents gave money to buy toys
and consistently; only the rolling piece work and diapers at Toy R Us, and Happy Meals
racks could maneuver between the aisles. It for the children.
created an assembly line: one worker would
sew a sleeve to the body of the shirt, put it “Going to be a massive fine,” said the
on the rack, where it would be sent to an- case agent Simon Porter. “Told the owner
other worker to sew the other sleeve. The that these people can’t be employed here.”
payment for one sleeve was usually two to
three cents. If there were a fire, most would Just then, an Asian man drove up in a black
not be able to escape, thought Takeshi. The Mercedes. “I have lawyer! I have lawyer!” he
worst place was the lunch room. Picnic ta- yelled, waving his arms and stomping up and
bles were placed in the toilet area and the down.
stench was unbearable; five new and three
“These sweatshop owners need to go to
jail, not just pay a fine,” said Takeshi.

15

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Tsukemoto!” yelled Supervisory Special At eleven a.m. the next day, Takeshi met
Agent George Flores. “Have an easy Bag N Walsh at the Torrance City Hall to meet with
Tag for you. Think you can handle something Tony Kriss. His third story office was deco-
this easy? You identify and arrest, easy and rated with plaques from the Kiwanis Club,
simple. Bring Walsh with you.” Rotary Club, Torrance City of Commerce
Distinguished Citizen of the Year, and many
All the agents referred to George as Jack, others. There were photos of him in the Navy,
for his big head reminded people of Jack In and a picture of him with Governor Brown.
The Box. When Jack was not selected for
promotion, he filed a racial discrimination “Thank you for coming here today,” said
suit and wrote a memo that he wanted to Kriss. “As I told your director, I sponsored
be officially referred to as Jorge. After filing Vivo Paco Casares to give performances to
the suit, he placed plaques and awards on further showcase this beautiful dance to our
the walls and shelves in his cubicle. communities. After five weeks, the troupe
refused to perform, and Paco demanded
“A City of Torrance Councilman Tony Kriss more money. That’s when I contacted your
sponsored a Flamenco dance troupe. They director. We play golf together.”
apparently walked out on him, demanded
more money, and are now trying to extort “Sir,” said Takeshi. “Did you have a dis-
him. Kriss cancelled his sponsorship and re- agreement with him? Like artistic or other-
quested they be deported. I’ll have James wise?”
Walsh help you. Maybe you can learn some-
thing from him,” said Jack and slid a file “None. We got along great until he
across the desk to Takeshi. wanted more money than agreed upon.”

Later, Takeshi and Walsh looked at the “Did you two have a contract?” asked
working file, which only contained the pred- Takeshi.
ication and synopsis. The troupe’s name
was Vivo Paco Casares. Paco was the troupe “Yes.”
leader, and Enrique Gastor played the per-
cussions. The three dancers were Sara “May we see it?”
Aranda, Carmen Baras, and Cristina Gomez.
They entered the United States only three “I’m afraid the contract is at my lawyer’s
months ago to give performances as highly office.”
skilled H-1 workers.
“Sir, what were the terms of the contract,
“Let me do the routine checks on them like the amount of compensation, schedule,
and tomorrow we can go talk to Kriss. I’ll housing costs, and others?” asked Walsh.
make the appointment,” said Takeshi.
“My lawyer said I shouldn’t divulge that
“Why do you let Jack talk to you like that? to anyone.” said Kriss.
No one has to put up with that shit.”
“Sir, you realize under the conditions of
“You know me--I’ve never been con- the H-1 petitions, you’re responsible for
frontational with my bosses,” said Takeshi. providing the cost of the tickets for them to
“Besides, it was great pleasure to tell him I return to Spain?” asked Walsh.
wouldn’t testify on his behalf that being a
minority I was being discriminated against.” “Why should I? They walked out on me?”

“But that’s what the regulations say,” said
Walsh.

16

Revista Literária Adelaide

“I’ll just have to take up that issue with hundred and fifty dollars for one person.
your director, now won’t I.” Takeshi knew he would not get reimbursed.

“Do you know where the troupe is “When are you going hook them up?”
staying?” asked Takeshi. yelled Flores, two days later.

“I hired a private detective to follow them. “Once we can get more evidence they’re
Here’s the address,” said Kriss, writing it here working illegally,” said Takeshi.
down and handing it to Takeshi. I also wrote
the address where they are performing. For “What else do you need to know other
the next two weeks they’ll be at the El Cid than their visas have been cancelled?
restaurant on Sunset Boulevard, as well as
other places. Those places should be pros- It’s a simple Bag N Tag!”
ecuted for hiring illegals.”
“Look,” said Takeshi. “I don’t even have
“Sir, as per regulations, did you file a the original file from the regional office. The
letter of withdrawal for the visas you wish last thing you want to do is not follow stan-
cancelled?” asked Takeshi. dard operation procedures. If the troupe
goes to court, and their lawyers find irreg-
“That is with my lawyer also.” ularities, you’ll be held responsible. Now,
that wouldn’t look good for your suit,” said
“Sir, is there anything else you can tell Takeshi.
us or provide us with other documentation
pertaining to this case?” asked Takeshi. “Good comeback,” said Walsh to Takeshi.

“It’s very difficult for me to tell you this. Flores stopped talking.
But according to my sources, the women
are performing lap dances at these restau- On the day Takeshi and Walsh were to go
rants after closing.” see the performance, they stopped at the
INS Western Regional Office to get a copy
“Lap dances?” asked Walsh, looking at of the visa applications. Everyone in the
the file. troupe was supposedly to be paid sixty-five
thousand for one year, three thousand a
“I made such a mistake petitioning them. month for housing, and twenty-five hun-
Please let me know what happens. I will dred a month for food and other expenses,
certainly call your director to thank him for plus fifteen percent of the total profit. The
your time.” contract also included a vehicle for each of
the performers. They were to perform five
“Did you believe that guy?” Takeshi asked times a week, once a day. He didn’t see an
Walsh outside. application requesting the visas be can-
celled.
“I looked in the file. Why would anyone
pay money for lap dances by middle aged Takeshi and Walsh went to see Dennis
women?” asked Walsh. Perry, the adjudicator in charge of spon-
soring entertainers. Takeshi gave him the file.
Takeshi and Walsh went to the El Cid
Restaurant. The Vivo Paco Casares dinner “Not Kriss again!” said Dennis after he
shows were sold out for the rest of the opened the file.
week, so Takeshi bought tickets for the week
after; it wasn’t cheap, thought Takeshi, one “You know him?” asked Takeshi.

17

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Last year it was the group of Russian and introduced themselves one by one.
dancers and an Irish band, and the year be- Then the dance started, slow at first but rap-
fore a group of Japanese singers. He tried idly speeding up. Paco played the guitar and
to cancel his sponsorship just like this one. sang, and Enrique played the drums. The
These sponsors always try to get INS to de- dancers started off by dancing individually,
port these people so they don’t have to pay then together. It didn’t seem like an hour
them. It’s a civil case!” and a half when the performance ended.

“Can a person just say they wouldn’t be The crowd gave a fifteen-minute standing
sponsoring someone just like that?” ovation, with three curtain calls and the au-
dience chanting, “Paco!” “Paco!” “Paco!”
“No, they can’t. There has to be an ap-
proved request for termination. And the After the dinner and performance,
withdrawal has to be legally binding, usu- Takeshi and Walsh conducted surveillance
ally done by an attorney. So, it’s not a valid from the parking lot across the street. Fif-
withdrawal. Bet this Kriss didn’t pay them?” teen minutes after the performance, the
troupe members came out. Walsh radioed
“Flores wants a Bag N Tag on them.” the license plate and found the vehicle
was registered to a Juan Talega of Burbank.
“You mean Jack? I told him several times Takeshi and Walsh followed the vehicle until
you can’t just go arrest these entertainers it arrived at the address Kriss provided. All
without the proper paperwork. I certainly the lights in the house turned off twenty
wouldn’t hook them up unless there’s an minutes later. They conducted surveillance
approved withdrawal. The Japanese singers for the next two hours, but no one came or
hired some big-time attorney and sued us left. The surveillance was conducted for the
for wrongful arrest and detention. In fact, next two nights, with the same results.
it was the immigration judge who told the
singers to sue the shit out of us.” The next morning, Takeshi and Walsh went
to the Burbank address. They could hear a
“Why do we let people like Kriss keep pe- guitar playing. Besides the pair of handcuffs
titioning people with his record? Can’t you each carried, Takeshi put three more pairs in
flag the Krisses of the world?” his bag. Just in case, thought Takeshi. “Hello,
anyone home?” asked Takeshi. A man whom
“We did, but all the rights groups and Takeshi recognized as Paco came to the door.
the American Immigration Lawyers Asso- “Does anyone speak English?”
ciation threatened a lawsuit that flagging
them would only deter cultural exhibitions “I do.”
from being introduced to the American
public—that’s their line. Then they called “My name is INS Special Agent Takeshi
every politician in their pockets to cancel Tsukemoto, and this is Special Agent James
the flaggings.” Walsh. May we come in to discuss a matter?”
asked Takeshi, showing Paco his badge and
“Did our lawyers do anything about that?” handing Paco his and Walsh’s business
cards.”
“You mean the jellyfishes!”
Paco looked at the cards. “We have been
The dinner started at six o’clock. The expecting you. Please enter.”
dance started at seven o’clock. EL Cid was
filled to capacity. The troupe came onstage

18

Revista Literária Adelaide

The others came out to the dining area. “Pretty interesting background,” said
“Inmigracion,” Paco said to the others. “No Takeshi. “I wanted to be a college English
te precocupes.” Do not worry Paco said to professor. I respect anyone who has a pas-
the others. sion and commitment for his art, unlike
me. Now back to the situation at hand. Ac-
Sara and Carmen started to cry. Cristina cording to Kriss, you stopped performing for
ran into the bathroom and could be heard him after five weeks? Can you explain why?
throwing up.
“Everyone here was to make sixty-five
“Officers, please come sit down at the thousand a year, three thousand a month
dining room table,” said Paco. for housing, twenty-five hundred a month
for food,” said Paco pointing to items in the
Enrique sat at the table with Takeshi file. “Each one of us was supposed to get a
and Walsh. Costumes hung on three long car. That never happened. He has not even
garments racks like the ones usually seen paid us at all.”
in factories. Three guitars against one wall,
and several small drums next to them “How often were you to get paid,” asked
Walsh.
“Sir, do you know a Tony Kriss?” asked
Takeshi. “He petitioned you and the rest to “Every month, along with the other pay-
perform Flamenco dances.” ments. We were planning to get separate
places, but no one has been paid”
“Kriss did indeed petition for us. We had
a contract, but he would not adhere to all of “Have you questioned Kriss why he hasn’t
the stipulations of that contract. “Por favor paid you and the others?” asked Takeshi.
ve a buscar los documentos del contrato,”
Paco said to Enrique. “Por favor obtenga una copia del poster,”
asked Paco to Enrique.
Enrique came back from a room and
gave Paco a one-inch thick file folder. Enrique came back with a box of 24 x 36-
inch posters of the troupe, along with dates
“Please exam it,” said Paco. “I’m sure and places of the performances.
you’ve seen this file before.”
“Kriss said that if we could not fill up au-
“How would you know that?” Takeshi ditoriums and make money, we would not
asked, recognizing the file as the same one make money too. I believe he only sold
he saw at the INS Regional Office. thirty tickets for the first scheduled six
shows. I informed him that we had a legal
“I was for a short time a Madrid police contract binding for both the United States
officer.” and Spain.”

“Why did you quit being an officer?” “What did he say to that?” asked Walsh.
asked Takeshi.
“He told us to help with the marketing.
“I started playing instruments as a child He suggested we go to community centers
and took up Flamenco when I was ten. I was to give small performances to entice people
not a good dancer, but I loved Flamenco so I to buy tickets. I told him that he had agreed
continued as a musician for the dance. You to do the marketing,” said Paco, pointing to
get paid as an officer, not as a musician. I a sheet in the file. “Then he said we should
used the money to take classes.”

19

Adelaide Literary Magazine

perform in parks and on major street cor- issue,” said Takeshi. “Do you know a Juan
ners to attract potential ticket buyers. I told Talega?”
him that we are professionals, not animals
in a zoo to have people stare at us.” “This is his house. We have known each
other since childhood and trained together.
“What did Kriss say when you refused? His troupe is highly respected in the United
asked Walsh. States and Spain. He was kind enough to
provide us this place and car without pay-
“He started yelling and screaming, waving ment when I told him of our situation. A
his arms and stomping up and down.” kind and generous friend. What will happen
to us?”
“I told him we might go to a lawyer and
sue him.” “This is a civil issue. We’re not enforcers
for people who can’t get their business af-
“How did he react?” asked Takeshi. fairs straight. You have nothing to worry
about from us. We better go now. Call me
“He yelled that he has nullified the con- or Agent Walsh if you have any questions.”
tract so he is no longer responsible for
paying us,” said Paco. “That is when he “Vamos a ser arrestados y deportados?”
started yelling about being golf partners asked Carmen.
with the highest-ranking immigration officer
in the Los Angeles area and that he will re- “No,” replied Paco. “She asked if we were
port that we had absconded, and we will be going to get arrested and deported.”
deported.”
“Gracias,” said both Carmen and Sara,
“How are you making ends meet now?” crying.
asked Takeshi.
“No te preocupes . No tienes nada que
“You must already know that we do per- temer de nosotros,” replied Takeshi. “If she
formances at Spanish establishments that didn’t understand my Spanish, tell her not
feature entertainment. We would have to worry.”
gone back to Spain already, but we needed
to make money here to pay for the flight “Where did you learn such good Spanish?”
back, food, and other everyday expenses.
Just the expense of moving here depleted “All Migras have to have a working knowl-
our savings. We get more into debt every edge of Spanish,” said Takeshi.
month. The Spanish business community
has helped us tremendously. I know that “Thank you for your kindness. We were
working here without a permit is not legal. worried since the Spanish media here tells
Are you going to arrest us and the business us that all Migras here physically beat those
owners for giving us employment?” who speak Spanish,” said Paco.

Takeshi and Walsh looked at each other. “Don’t believe any of that. Your perfor-
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’re all mance at El Cid last night was incredible.”
independent contractors so they have no
legal obligations to determine if you’re legal “What the fuck is going on, not arresting
or not. As for your troupe, you still have them!” yelled Flores.
the H-1 visas, which haven’t been revoked,
so you’re okay. Besides, this is a domestic “It’s a civil case, a domestic issue,” said
Takeshi. “I’m not going to be a strong arm
for Kriss. He’s the problem, not the dancers.

20

Revista Literária Adelaide

Kriss couldn’t sell enough tickets so he an immigration attorney, Ellen Lee. He ig-
didn’t pay them. Now, Kriss is doing his ‘I’ll nored Flores and came to Takeshi’s desk.
call INS on you’ crap.” “Let me shake your hand,” said Hudson. “Last
night Entertainment Tonight aired a rather
“I’m giving you direct order to arrest long segment on the Flamenco dancers. The
them. If you don’t, there’ll be hell to pay.” troupe leader Paco talked about how he was
exploited by this character Kriss and threat-
“Jorge, you are giving an illegal order. ened them with deportation. Initially, when
Talked with Perry at Region. According you and Walsh came to see him, he thought
to Dennis, you gave similar order to Her- about how you and Walsh would arrest and
nandez, and we got the shit sued out of us. beat them as portrayed in the media. He
He told you that you can’t put people into said you and Walsh were extremely kind,
removal proceedings without an official, professional, and compassionate officers.
legally binding order, and an approved re- Now that’s the type of image we need to
quest from the sponsor.” portray to the public! Good job!”

“What does he know, he isn’t an agent.” “Thank you, I’m glad to you say that since
Look at all these awards! If I didn’t know Supervisor Flores wanted me to Bag N Tag
what I’m doing how could I have been given them without a legal withdrawal notifica-
all these?” tion.” Takeshi saw Flores’ right hand shaking.
“In fact, I went to Region and Section Chief
“Is that why Perry is a fourth line super- Perry said such an action was illegal.”
visor, and you’re only a first line? Besides,
most of yours are for administrative and “Director Hudson,” said Flores. “What
community awards.” Others agents at their does Perry know, he’s an adjudicator?”
desks started to giggle.
“I started off as an adjudicator! I‘ve also
“How dare you talk to me like that!” known him for forty years. He’s highly re-
yelled Flores. “Kee, Vancio, Hernandez. Go spected in the Service.”
arrest these dancers!” yelled Flores, waving
his arms and stomping up and down. Ellen was shaking her head.

“No way,” said Kee. “Ellen came to me this morning and told
me about the segment last night on En-
“I heard enough. It ain’t right,” said Vancio. tertainment Tonight. At eight o’clock this
morning, my office was getting deluged
“Already been sued once, thanks to you,” from entertainment promoters who would
said Hernandez. be willing to sponsor them.”

“Will anyone follow my orders?” yelled “I have three other immigration attor-
Flores to the rest of the agents. “I’m going neys, as well as myself, who will represent
to fuck up your career, Takeshi. I’m going them pro bono,” said Lee. “Also, two law
to write you up, suspend you, and fire you!” firms that handle civil cases have agreed to
represent them pro bono.”
Everyone at once left the room.
“Wow that’s great! I’ll give Paco a call
“Never heard you talk like that before,” to have him contact you, Ellen. They’ll be
said Walsh. “You’re always so calm, even dancing all night.”
when Jack talks down to you.”

The next day, INS District Director Danny
Hudson came to Investigations. He was with

21

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Flores! Did you really order a Bag N Tag?” “Paco give me your business card. He
asked Director Hudson. asked me to call you.”

“What I meant was a ‘modified’ Bag N Tag.” “Are the clowns talking?”

The other agents started booing. “They’re confessing their sins and blaming
a character named Kriss. They know if they
“Never heard of a ‘modified’ Bag N Tag,” talk, they’ll get a good deal. They’ve been
said Takeshi. You stood right there and or- in the same spot before,” said Officer Rand.
dered me to conduct a Bag N Tag. Remember,
you were screaming at me.” “What can I do?” asked Takeshi.

“What the hell is a ‘modified’ Bag N Tag?” “Go talk to them. The detectives will
asked Director Hudson. ‘In my office in one present the case to the district attorney’s of-
hour! We’ll have a conference call with fice. They’ll arraign these clowns and go ar-
Dennis Perry. Go find a box to put your stuff rest Kriss.”
in. And better bring your lawyer!”
Takeshi went inside. Enrique was picking
“Bye ‘Jack!’ ” Takeshi yelled, as Flores ran up the damaged instruments. One of the
out of the room. Then he heard all the other guitars was broken into three pieces. The
agents cheering. costumes on the racks were on the floor.
The women were all crying on the couch,
“Wow!” said Walsh. “Never heard you the female officer talking to them in Spanish.
talk like that. When you get even, you’re
pretty nasty.” “Thank you for coming,” said Paco, sitting
on the kitchen table.
The next day, at three a.m., Takeshi re-
ceived a call from Burbank Police Officer Lynn “The officers will be arresting these thugs
Rand at three in the morning. “I’m leaving my and Kriss,” said Takeshi, as Walsh came in-
place now,” said Takeshi. side.

Thirty-five minutes later, Takeshi arrived “I’ll brief the officers about what’s going
at the troupe’s residence. There were six on with this case,” said Walsh,
patrol cars and two unmarked cars. Three
men, handcuffed behind their backs, were “I don’t know what to tell you,” said
sitting on the sidewalk, guarded by five Takeshi.
officers. All of the handcuffed men had
on Harley Davidson t-shirts and wore mil- “They broke the door down, starting
itary style boots. “What happened?” asked yelling ‘Get out of my country.’ Two of
Takeshi to Rand. them picked up the instruments and started
stomping on them and smashing them on
“Home invasion, destruction of property, the walls and floor. Then they took out
and terrorist threats. They came in and knives and started cutting the costumes.
started to destroy everything. Our detec- Enrique and I tried to stop them, but they
tives are taking statements from the vic- were too big. Then they started calling the
tims. They’re pretty shell shocked. We have ladies awful names. The one with red hair
a Spanish speaking female woman officer wanted Sara to perform a lap dance. Please,
calming the women down.” help Enrique and the ladies. As a former po-
lice officer, I have encountered these types
“How did you know to call me?” before, but they haven’t and are in shock.”

22

Revista Literária Adelaide

Juan Talega arrived. He went to speak other troupes? And you don’t have to worry
with Paco and hugged the ladies. “Thank about immigration issues.”
you for being so kind to my friends,” Juan
said to Takeshi. “Let me be here with my “They have helped us enough. I can no
friends.” longer impose on them.”

Takeshi knew that intimidation was the “If you’re gone, who’s going to testify
norm in sweatshops and factories where against Kriss and his gang?”
illegals worked, but he had never experi-
enced a situation where a sponsor would “You and I both know getting them pros-
send thugs out to intimidate people whom ecuted could take years. I know that they
they once sponsored. Could he not have have hired highly paid lawyers, and like in
done something to have prevented this sit- Spain, they can delay the process for years.
uation? Should he have known this might Years that we cannot afford.”
happen and taken precautions?
“Paco, without your cooperation, they’ll
Kriss pled not guilty, and the thugs later be let go to do this to others,”
refused to cooperate. Their attorneys were
all high-priced criminal defense lawyers. “That sounds like what I used to say to
Kriss must be paying for them, thought victims when I was an officer,” said Paco gig-
Takeshi. gling. You said you wanted to be an English
professor. It is like having your books and
Takeshi went to Burbank one week later, notes destroyed. Years of research take time
for Paco wanted to talk with him. to replace.”

“What!” said Takeshi. “What do mean by Two weeks after Paco and the others
you’re going back?” left, Agent Porter came to Takeshi, now an
acting supervisor replacing Flores. “I sub-
“Officer Tsukemoto. We can no longer mitted a fine of sixty thousand dollars on
perform here. All of our costumes and in- my last sweatshop.”
struments are all gone. The ladies are still
in shock.” “Very nice,” said Takeshi.

“Can’t you get new ones?” “Steve Butcher, the head of that unit, said
the company was dissolved to they can’t be
“All of our costumes and instruments fined.”
were handmade, custom made for us. You
just can’t get them here, only in Spain by “What!”
master craftsmen. We are artists, and we
need the proper tools to conduct our craft. “Butcher said the company was a corpo-
Even if we could get the tools, we don’t ration and now that they do not exist, they
have enough financial resources. Those in- can’t be fined.”
struments and costumes represent nearly
ten years of our work. It is not something Takeshi and Porter went to Butcher’s of-
that can be quickly replaced.” fice. Butcher also had a lot of plaques and
awards in his office.
“From what I understand, sponsors are
waiting in line to help you. You’ll be making “Why can’t you fine them?” demanded
money. Maybe you could get help from the Takeshi.

Butcher swiped his hair from the side
to cover a bald spot. “The company is no

23

Adelaide Literary Magazine

longer a corporation. That means they no “Get out!” yelled Butcher, waving his
longer exist. You can’t fine something that arms and stomping up and down. “Get out!”
doesn’t exist.”
“You’re just a fucking jellyfish. That’s
“You know they’ll just set up another en- what all the defense lawyers call you,” said
tity down the street and incorporate again. Takeshi while Porter grabbing his arm and
Can’t they still be held to answer?” pulling him out of the office.

“Technically yes, but that would take a lot “Dude, you need to calm down. What’s
of work, and we may not win in court. They with you lately?” asked Porter.
also hired the Fragomen law firm, the best.”
Takeshi went to the New Otani hotel two
“Can’t you even try? Isn’t that your job?” blocks away. There was a Japanese garden on
asked Takeshi. the roof. He often went there relax and calm
down. It was tranquil, with cherry blossom
“You’re not a lawyer, so you don’t under- trees, a fountain, Bonsai trees, and a Koi
stand.” pond. Birds were always chirping. He sat on
a stone bench. At least, the sweatshops don’t
“Hey ‘Butch Head,’ how many times have mask what they’re doing. “Raiding two
you said that to me!” yelled Takeshi. “Why sweatshops a month. Are we pursuing the
do you fine the shit out of small mom and real bad guys?” said Takeshi to himself.
pop businesses who can’t afford a big-time
lawyer, and stick your tail up your ass at
those big employers who can afford firms
like Fragomen.”

About the Author

Bruce Kamei: After receiving an MFA from Wichita State
University (long time ago), he spent twenty-five years as
a U.S. immigration special agent, an enforcement branch.
Being a Migra, he experienced and saw situations that
many could not even imagine, and how it affects both the
immigrants and the agents; no one escaped unscathed.

24

THE PLAY’S THE
THING

by Thomas Belton

In the first act, you get the hero up a tree, in the second you throw rocks
at him, and in the third act you get the poor son-of-a-bitch back down.

George S. Kaufman

He knew he had to get out of the business. Dictator Batista as the Wizard and old Fidel
It was eating his brain like a lovesick gerbil Castro himself as monster Caliban. Billboard
running a squeaky wheel through the small shouts “Bay of Pigs Leaves Lovers Lost on
hours of the night. He kept mining his sub- Shore.” Nah, he thought, been done. They
conscious, hooting for ideas in the backyard got Richard the Thirds boogie-dancing on
of his Id, looking for the playground where Broadway, and Hollywood’s got women
all the goodies were, but all he got was playing him in reverse drag. He needed
midnight flashes of his ex-wife throwing his something new and more daring.
clothes out of their apartment window, or
his Shelly Winters look-alike mother making Writer’s block wasn’t anything new to
Eggs Benedict naked in front of the stove at J.T. He’d a serious affliction with creative
two in the morning while he looked on in ennui in ‘84 when he’d sat for month in a
disbelief from his pull-out bed in the hall, bathtub of a friend’s Chelsea Hotel apart-
or his lawyer’s disembodied head floating ment swilling Colt 45. malt liquor and eating
above him in a Robin Williams shtick telling nothing but thin mints, trying to cook up an
him to “Shit or get off the pot!” idea for a MacArthur Grant he’d already
spent from the previous Fall. Surprisingly,
J.T. Williams had to admit his playwriting the spell broke when his prune-skinned
and producing career was on the rocks or body was forcibly removed from the tub of
at least lost in a hurricane off the Bahamas self-pity by two house painters who’d been
with no land in sight. Maybe there’s an idea, commissioned by his slightly deranged
he thought. A remake of Shakespeare’s hostess to paint a series of life-size nude
Tempest set in 1950s Havana. That that murals in the bathroom depicting WWII

25

Adelaide Literary Magazine

pin-ups of Greta Garbo and Hedy Lamar Ruby Williams snorted at her easy suc-
with the heads of cartoon ducks supplanted cess for knocking JT down a peg, even be-
on their bodies. fore she’d said what was really on her mind,
then added, “Where’s my money, JT? I go
Jumping up, he grabbed his trusty type- out to the mailbox and look for my check.
writer and hacked out a hundred and twen- I open the door and what do I see. A note
ty-two pages of his next play entitled “The from my son with a tiny bit of green appre-
Mallard’s Revenge,” a social satire set in ciation for all the years I spent cleaning his
the Hamptons involving two bed-hopping soiled pants, nurturing his creative genius
society girls named Signet and Floyd, as with my constant employment while he was
they traipsed through the drug and martini out in bars till God knows when. ‘Seeking
infested mansions of the post WW II robber inspiration!’ he tells me. Inspiration at the
barons, eating caviar and sleeping with bottom of a bottle of Bombay Gin, I’d say.
whomever gave them the biggest orgasm. Hanging out with no good whores and
The Times hailed it as “A Canard Crossed pickpockets. Too good to even stop round
Tale of Back-Biting Bimbos” whereas the and see yer’ Ma while I’m laid up with the
more plebeian NY Daily News simply stated shingles. Like a cripple, I am, covered with
“Ditched Broads get Plucked.” blisters, which I got by the way my doctor
tells me from the same chicken pops I got
The phone rang on his desk and he from you. And here they come back to
picked it up, looking out of his sixth-floor haunt me twenty years later, pops covering
office window at the gaggle of sightseers in me with these crudules, looks like I got a
front of the “Ripley’s Believe It or Not Mu- ring around my middle like a dirty bathtub
seum” just across the way on Times Square. and all I want is a little support in my dying
years. ‘Cause that’s what it is JT. I’m dying!
“Yeah?” he asked into the phone. And what for? What do I have to show for a
life of slaving, never thinking about myself?
“Hello Shirley,” a rough tobacco-laden I got bupkis! Nada! Nuts! from my worth-
voice said from the other side of the line. less Broadway mogul of a son. When am I
gonna see some goddamn money, JT?” she
“Fer’ Christ’s sakes, Ma,” he answered, finished, her voice rising to a hissing vol-
“will you cut it out with the Shirley shit.” canic scream.

When JT’s mother was vexed with some- “Ma! Ma! It don’t work that way and you
thing JT had, or hadn’t done in her myopic know it. Come on,” JT whined. “I’ll get you
view of maternal rights, she always called some money come the end of the week; I
him Shirley to remind him of his seminal promise.” Then hearing a snort at the end
dramatic experience at PS 103 up in Wash- of the line, which JT knew was his mother’s
ington Heights. That’s when his third-grade monumental chest sucking in a snoot-full
teacher, Mrs. Powers, chose him to sing of hot air to blast into his ear, he quickly
“The Good Ship Lollypop” in a Shirley Temple feinted by muffling the phone with his
wig, puffed skirt, and black patent leather hand and shouting, “Hey Johnnie! How’s it
shoes. A so-called emergency when Mer- going?” as he slammed his desk drawer in
cedes Esposito fell sick from eating bad oys- a poor mimic of his office door opening and
ters and was home shitting her brains out closing. “Got to go Ma,” he said cheerfully,
as JT wowed them up in Harlem with terpsi-
chorean footwork and an unfeigned falsetto.

26

Revista Literária Adelaide

“It’s Johnnie Shoemaker. Big prospect. “Yapp,” cried the Shih Tzu and took a
Wants to invest in a musical I’m working lunge at JT’s hand as he offered a gentle
on, ‘The Last of the Mohicans.’ Gonna be touch of guidance to the lady’s back. JT
a blockbuster,” and then he hung up with a snapped his mitt back before the dog could
loud bang of the receiver and hastily fell to take off some fingers at the nub and walked
his knees and pulled the phone jack from briskly over to his own chair behind the
the wall before his Mom had a chance to desk shaking his hand and taking note of
hit redial on the red luminous Donald Duck the digits still present.
phone he’d bought her at Disney World for
their last vacation. “I’m sorry if Ming The Terrible was bad
to you. Aren’t we wittle one,” she added
But then, as if on cue from one of his kissing the pooch on the nose? “My name
cheap plays, the office door swung open is Amelia Caprio,” she said, offering her
and in walked a beautiful blond wearing a white gloved hand across the table while
mink coat over a red velvet dress too short delicately holding the dog’s snout back so it
for that time of year, actually too short for couldn’t get another bite at the apple.
any time of year, but JT took it in anyway,
savoring the view from his spot on the floor. “Charmed!” JT replied, reaching across
A set of ‘gams’ that started at her ankles the expanse of his long planked wooden
and ran like a NASCAR speedway up to her desk.
knees, calves he’d fight a cornered cat to
sit on, and a waist he’d love to circle with “I would like to commission the produc-
whipped cream and a giant spoon, but tion of a play,” she said breathily, as if she’s
then he got to her monumental chest and been practicing the Marilyn Monroe shtick
noticed the Shih Tzu glaring down at him for ages. And she’d gotten it just right, JT
with bloodshot glazed eyes and wearing a thought, tilting his head to get a better peep
diamond collar that shimmered against her at her over his spectacles, realizing she’d
bosom. probably invested ten grand in the cos-
metic surgery to make the Marilyn appear-
“Are you JT Williams, the Broadway pro- ance even stronger, bosoms and cleavage to
ducer and playwright?” she asked in a sweet boot as she pulled the fur mink rug off her
low voice. shoulders and juggled the dog from hand
to hand. Looking at her coif he figured the
“Yeah! Yes, yes,” he added, rapidly getting platinum wig had once adorned the head
to his feet and dropping the phone into the of a nice Scandinavian junkie who was now
wastebasket by his desk. “Let me get you a probably shooting dope with the proceeds
seat,” he said, shuffling across the room to somewhere on skid-row in Copenhagen.
a high-backed leather contraption that he
shoved behind her. It looked a little like the “Well you’ve come to the right place,” he
hot seat up at Sing Sing prison. The chair, in replied exuberantly. “We have a long record
fact, had once been a prop for the Old Vic of winning shows here at JT Productions.
Touring Company for its rendition of King Just look at these,” he added, spinning in
Lear. A chair he’d covetously shoved off the his seat to offer her an open-palmed appre-
loading platform and into his Pontiac 88s ciation of the rows of theatre posters that
mammoth trunk for subsequent introduc- adorned the walls around his desk like giant
tion into his own abode. postage stamps of dead thespians.

27

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Wil- The whole disheveled fiasco came run-
liams, you don’t need to convince me of ning back into JT’s mind with a flood of
your successes. My mother was in one of un-pleasantries as he sat there looking at
your shows years ago, and told me all about Amelia Caprio. Her mother Sussa Phone
you.” along with Bermuda Schwartz “She’s hotter
than hot pants,” Pearl Harbor “She’ll sink
“You mother was in one of my shows?” he your ship,” and Sue Veneer “Come see her
asked, a confused crooked smile creeping trinkets,” all decided to join the boys on the
across his face. picket line and wear their more presentable
costumes; that is halter tops and hot pants
“Yes, Holly Downton,” the babe said, instead of the usual pasties and a G-String.
pulling a gold cigarette case and lighter from The local press loved it! The Philly cops ar-
her purse. “She worked for you at the Tro- gued over who’d get assigned to control the
cadero Burlesque in Philadelphia in the six- mobs that showed up each morning coming
ties. Of course, her stage name back them out of Reading Terminal to the awesome
was Sussa Phone - The Babe with the Boobs spectacle of these hot babes hooting their
of Brass. I do so love those names you made stuff for free down Arch Street.
up for your dancers, Mr. Williams.”
“Your mother got me fired from that job,”
“Oh, oh!” JT thought, as the light started JT said.
to illuminate his worst momentary lapse
of judgment. The Trocadero affectionately “Yes,” Amelia crooned, “but in the most
known as the Troc to the sailors from the pleasant way.”
South Philly Naval Base had its fair share of
loud vociferous clientele. It opened in 1870 “You call being locked in a walk-in refrig-
near the Reading Terminal train shed where erator by three mopes from mobsters anon-
commuters could get a little bit of topless ymous pleasant then yeah I guess you could
fantasy before heading home to the Missus. say it was a frozen fart-filled delight.”
The Troc was closed for obscenity every
time Philadelphia’s Quaker Fathers wanted “Well, the way mom told it, if you hadn’t
to flex a little muscle and was busted for supplied a lot of body heat she would’ve
bootlegging repeatedly during Prohibition. never made it through the night,” Amelia
In 1968 JT was the acting stage director replied demurely pulling a cigarillo from her
while waiting for a chance to move into gold case as she plopped the fluffy mutt on
legit drama over at the Forrest Theatre on his desk where it walked around like it was
Chestnut Street when the Troc musicians looking for a fire hydrant to take a leak on.
went on strike. It seems Pasquale Caprio,
the general manager and six-fingered Stretching across his desk to light her
member of an Italian secret society known cigarette while simultaneously poking Ming
as La Cosa Nostra in South Philly, tried to fire the Terrible with a letter opener to keep it
two union musicians claiming the business from sinking its fangs into his forearm, he
could only afford three. Pasquale or ‘Fat Pat’ replied with a stupid grin, “What’s a fella to
as he was known to his fellow secret society do, Ms. Caprio? But that’s ancient history.
members was doubly surprised when the Your Ma was a good egg.”
musicians went on strike, along with some
of the strippers. “No mom supplied the good egg,” she
said. “It was you made it an occasion. And
voila, nine months later there I was.”

28

Revista Literária Adelaide

It took JT a few moments to take in this the Mohicans! Gonna be a big blockbuster,
last statement. He’d exited Philadelphia so huh?” she added, mimicking my lie across
fast in ’68 after escaping the meat locker the phone. I should have known better
that he’d never looked back. The reason that to believe she’d let it go. Ma was like
for his disappearance was twofold, a dead a terrier on a rat once she’d gotten it into
striking clarinet player and one dead Ber- her head that someone owed her money.
muda Schwartz. He liked Bermuda; she “Who’s this bimbo then?” she asked, glaring
was one nifty brunette who invented lap at Amelia’s Marilyn getup, “Princess Tickle
dancing before there was a name for it. Feather come to play hide the salami with
They’d both been found dead, thrown from my no-good cheapskate of a son.”
the balcony of the Troc onto the stage like
busted marionettes. So, he’d never given a “Why Granny Williams,” Amelia said with
second thought to Holly Doonton, aka Sussa a syrupy charm that could have melted the
Phone, the Babe with the Boobs of Brass, or shoes off of anyone back at the old Troc.
their one-night stand making love on top of And JT realized right then and there that
a burlap bag filled with frozen peas. For the she wasn’t lying, she was definitely Holly’s
first time in his life, JT was speechless. The kid. But there had to be some con going
most that he could get out was, “Gaaahh!” down here. Why would Holly send her kid
to him? And how much did Amelia really
And then as if on cue his office door know about that last night in Philly when
swung open and in stomped JT’s mother two bodies were retrieved from under the
like Brunnhilde descending with her Valky- Troc.
ries onto a battlefield. She has a pot-shaped
hat on, which looked like one her three- “Granny, is it dearie?” Ruby said real low
dozen cats had sat on it, a coat made of down with this grumbling sound deep in-
rag-rug material that she’d picked up at a side like an eruption from her colostomy
Flea Market somewhere in Jersey and sup- was about to blow itself free.
posedly crocheted by the Daughters of the
American Revolution, Militant Wing, and “Now, now girls,” JT intervened getting
underneath it all a dress she’d fought a little up from his seat. “Ma, take it easy will you.
old lady for at Loehmann’s Department This is the daughter of an old friend of mine
store, a silver lame’ deal with tassels made from Philadelphia. She says she wants to
of aluminum shaped stars of David. put some money in a play. A commission,
Ma,” he added significantly, steering her
“Johnnie Shoemaker, indeed,” she bel- towards the only other seat in the room, a
lowed, pointing at Amelia. And as the smallish affair used by Wendy in the Lost
Shih Tzu took a flying leap at her extended Boys hideout from the American Sign Lan-
hand, she snatched him out of mid-air and guage touring company of Peter Pan. JT
pitched him across the room and into a lightly tripped her, forcing her to squeeze
trash can upon which she adroitly plopped her bulky derriere between its two ex-
a saddle-sized handbag, trapping the little tended arms, where she sat with her knees
bastard in like a corked bottle. “Big pros- protruding like twin cannons from a battle-
pect,” she continued, turning her venomous ship caught in dry dock.
glare upon us both. ‘Wants to invest in a
musical I’m working on, huh? The Last of “Miss Amelia Caprio, meet my mother,
Ruby Williams. ‘And lay off the granny stuff,’”

29

Adelaide Literary Magazine

he whispered sotto voce to Amelia, as he kindergarten seat, sending the imprisoned
walked past her and back to his desk. dog into a yipping frenzy, so Ruby smacked
the side of the trash can with her foot stifling
“Why no offense, Mrs. Williams,” Amelia the mutt into whimpering bleats that brought
said with a flowery voice that seemed a shout of disapproval from Ms. Caprio, “Hey
more like a demented Blanche Dubois from lay off the dog will you. It don’t bite.”
Street Car Named Desire than a South Philly
bimbo. “It’s just that you remind me of my “Oh, you’re a cheeky one,” Ma said,
grandmother, although I’ve never met her, glaring at Amelia. “Don’t sass me girl. I’m
and have only my mother’s description to doing us all a favor keeping that cretinous
what she looked like,” she added as a con- vermin in there. I got bit once by one-a-
fused expression dropped over her face like them rat dogs, near killed me with the ra-
a late curtain on a bad play. bies it did. I had the sucker put to sleep and
I don’t expect no worse for your mutt, he
“I remind you of your grandmother? comes after me. But I won’t wait for no SPCA
And you say you’ve never met her?” Ruby this time. I’ll put his lights out right here and
replied with a squint catching ahold of her now. You hear me?” she added, shaking her
left eye, a twitch which I knew by experi- fist under Amelia’s nose for emphasis.
ence meant Ma knew Amelia was lying, but
then again you didn’t need a degree in psy- “Yes, yes, I hear you!” Amelia Caprio re-
chology to know that her last loopy state- plied, looking at Ma in shocked disbelief. JT
ment was about as nuts as you could go. figured her euphoria at fingering him as her
dad was dying a slow death at the thought
“I think what Amelia means is that IF she that she might be related to Ruby.
had a grandmother, which she doesn’t,” he
added for emphasis, “And based on her dear “Wait a minute,” I said reading quickly
mother’s description, she’d look just like through the play synopsis and then glancing
you. Isn’t that right, Ms. Caprio? But more up from the title page. “You said you wrote
to the point, you say you want to commis- this about your dad. The dedication here
sion a play. Do you have an author in mind? says ‘To Pasquale Caprio.’ Your father is Fat
A musical, comedy, straight drama?” Pat Caprio from the Philly mob?”

“Why yes,” Ms. Amelia said, handing him Smiling now but in a different, sly way,
a slim manuscript, which she extricated Amelia seemed to be appreciating his dis-
from within the confines of her discarded comfort as he finally caught the jist of the
coat and one of those inexplicable pockets shakedown. She replied, “My mother mar-
that women use to hide essentials upon ried Pat after you left town. Being in a family
their persons, everything from lipsticks to way after your torrid encounter in the freezer,
Uzi machine guns. “I wrote this about my fa- she had no choice but to find any port in a
ther. It started out as a novel-memoir but I storm, and that port happened to be on Fat
turned it into a play. It has too much vibrant Pat Caprio’s lap, mob enforcer and Daddy
dialogue to let some fifth-rate Hollywood Dearest, whose raised me as his own but
director get his hands on it and turn all that doesn’t know that you’re really my father.”
raw emotion into blurry cinematography
with gauzy red sunsets and hot sex scenes.” Then for the first time in his life JT saw
his Ma speechless. All she could get out was,
“Ha, here we go, another half-baked bit “Gaaahh!”
of trash out of Philly,” Ma yelled from her

30

Revista Literária Adelaide

There comes a time in a man’s life when “I hate to break up this little love feast,”
he has to admit to himself that he’s just a he said, “but I don’t get it.”
smidge in the eye of God and God is rooting
him out with a smudged finger. That’s the “You don’t get what?” Ruby asked, extri-
way he felt looking from Ruby to Amelia as cating herself at last from the little chair and
the newly acquired member of their dys- pulling the lid off the wastebasket to free
functional family outlined in all the gory the whimpering mutt as a peace offering to
details how Holly and he had survived the Amelia.
great Trocadero Mob Massacre of 1968 by
hiding in the freezer. Watching how she “This!” he said waving the play in the
handled herself, he half wanted to believe air. “What’s it all about? And why me after
Amelia was his kid because if she was Pat all these years.? Your mother didn’t care a
Caprio’s, he couldn’t see it. Fat Pat had cracker, so why should you?”
barely made it through the sixth grade be-
fore graduating prematurely into the Philly “Simple,” Amelia said picking up the
Youth Detention center for hijacking and ex- pooch as she circled my desk and sat on its
tortion. That’s where he did post-graduate edge facing me. “Revenge!”
work in knuckle-walking and chest-beating.
Amelia was smart, in spite of the bimbette “Revenge and money, I hope,” said Ma.
appearance, which he assumed came from “Vengeance has no wrath like a goodly stroked
surviving on South Philly turf, as they lis- palm you ask me.”
tened to her describe her upbringing as a
mob princess; going to Saint Maria Goretti “Oh, there’s money in it alright,” Amelia
High School; throwing rocks at police cars replied with a devious smile that definitely
come into their neighborhood uninvited; reminded me of me. “For all of us, but only
helping Fat Pat move cartons of loose money if you help me.”
into the garages he owned all over town as
storage vaults for his purloined goods; and “OK, what’s it about, Amelia?” JT asked.
how poor Holly patiently put up with him for
years waiting for a chance to get even for his “I want you to help me whack Fat Pat.”
cruelty, especially after her looks went.
“Ha,” he cried incredulously. “I knew it.
Amelia pulled out a picture of her You got to be kidding me. Whack a made-guy
mother and JT almost swallowed his tongue. in Philadelphia. The last time someone did
Holly had grown to meet the challenge of that it was ‘Chicken Man’ Testa and Harry
living with a big man. She must have put ‘the Hunchback’ Riccobene got hit, and blood
on two hundred pounds since the last time flowed for weeks. Whole generations of Si-
he saw her naked in that frozen walk-in cilian bloodlines died out over lasagna and
freezer under Arch Street. In the photo, bread sticks in the ‘City of Brotherly Love’.
Holly and Fat Pat looked like a pair of ele-
phants hovering over Amelia at a Chucky “No, No, I don’t want you to do it. I just
Cheese restaurant, Amelia being hugged by need your help in finding someone local
Chucky the giant birthday rat surrounded by to contract for me. I can’t roll on Fat Pat in
screaming pimply kids in party hats as her Philly. Every wise guy within a hundred miles
parentals scarfed down doubled pizza slices would be on to me in a minute.”
over her bobbing curls.
“Girlie, I got to admit, I like your style,”
Ruby said with a gleam of grand-maternal
pride in her piggish eyes.

31

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Are the two of you nuts?” JT said. “Why about. And even if I did, it’d take a lot of juice
should I help you, and besides what makes to pay someone to go after another hitter.”
you think I’d know someone put a heavy hit
on a player in Philadelphia?” “But that’s what I thought too,” Amelia
said excitedly. “That’s why I got Fats to fi-
“Ma said you owed her on account of you nance the play,” she said reaching for her
leaving her there to take the heat with the coat. “I’ve been pulling his strings for a year
Capo, Carlo Luna.” before Ma died on how I wanted to write a
play and get it produced on Broadway. He
“Wait a minute,” he said getting up and gave me a hundred thousand dollars to go
pacing the floor between the two of them and find a producer. He wants to make me
as the little Shih Tzu yipped along besides happy. I think it’s this Catholic guilt thing
him like a Border Collie, “I never even over Ma coming to own him.” At this Amelia
came onto Holly before that night. She pulled another package out of the myste-
was so dipshit as to believe she could go rious bottomless pit within her fur coat and
on strike against the mobbed-up owners dropped a mound of freshly wrapped hun-
of the Troc and her dopey girlfriend, Ber- dred-dollar bills on my desk.
muda Schwartz, is sleeping with the trom-
bone player AND Carlo Luna at the same Ruby lit up and walked towards the green-
time. You tell me how stupid can you get? I backs like a zombie, her hands twitching with
wasn’t taking sides publicly with a bitch that the need to caress, to stroke that lonely
humiliates a Don? I just pulled Holly out of money into her pockets.
the way and into the freezer to hide when
the button-men came to do their number; “Wait a minute,” he shouted pushing her
Fat Pat and some other asshole named Two away.
Fingers.”
“Son of a bitch, JT,” Ruby cried. “This girl
“Look,” Amelia said pointing a long pink needs us. She’s family and besides,” she
lacquered nail at JT, “Mom and I spent our added wistfully looking towards my desk,
lives with this creep. I spent my whole ad- “Look at all them presidents needs us too.”
olescence watching her turn into a blimp
from depression and Fat Pat groping me “Are you both crazy,” he shouted. “I can’t
like I was one of his girlfriends, like he must whack Fat Pat and I don’t know anybody
have known I wasn’t his. I’m ready to serve that can.”
up some serious hurt on his gut. Holly and I
talked about it and agreed you ought to be “Wait, wait, I got an idea,” Ruby cried
the guy to help us. Ma said you’d have all throwing both arms out like a traffic cop,
these Hollywood contacts that must know glancing from JT to Amelia with this crazed
how to take someone out, guys who didn’t look in her eye like there was a door opening
move in the same places as Fat Pat. in her head and something gruesome was
coming through, “What If I told you we could
“Amelia,” he said very softly. “I’m sorry, get Fat Pat hit and never lift a finger to hire
but I didn’t know about you until this very a killer. Maybe keep this money all to our-
minute and to be honest your Mom was a selves,” she added looking gleefully down at
nice lady, as I remember. But I don’t know my desk.
anybody in this line of work you’re taking
“How could you arrange that?” Amelia
asked, intrigued, as she picked up her

32

Revista Literária Adelaide

precious dog and settled back into the over- let it be known in Philly that you’re arguing
sized chair. with your dad. It’s him that wants to put
on the play and you’re just going along for
“These mob guys are real secretive ain’t the ride. When the smoke clears, you’ll be
they?” Ruby asked. “Real suspicious of any- home free. The Capos won’t stand for it. Fat
body lets outsiders know their business, Pat won’t last a week and not a shot will be
right? Anyone does, they maybe think that fired from our end. Just the thought of the
person is wired or talking out of school?” play will do him in. We won’t have to cast it
or produce it, just set it up like we’re ready
“Yeah, I guess,” replied Amelia. “But what’s to go and walk away after the whack. You
your point?” get what you want Amelia and we split the
money.”
“What say we put on your Play. Call it
‘The Mobster’s Revenge’ and announce it’s For a long moment, they sat there. JT
been ghost-written by Fat Pat Caprio, a Cosa looked at Ruby and saw the glow of the
Nostra insider, who knows what he knows. Muses on her brow. Ingenious! He looked at
Say we take say ten thousand of this,” she Amelia and it seemed as if a veil had lifted
said, sweeping a small pile of bills to one from her face revealing a subtle smile like
side of my desk, “and use it to pay for ad- she hadn’t really thought it could happen
vertising and a publicist. Get all the papers but all of a sudden there it was like a ‘Dum
in Philly in on it. Put flyers up all-over Little Dum’ lollypop in the candy store just waiting
Italy. Then we split the remainder,” she for her to pick it up and lick it clean.
added. “To you,” she said pushing a pile to-
wards JT. “To you,” she added pushing a pile “Let’s do it,” JT said fingering one of the
towards Amelia, “and to me,” she finished neatly bound bundles. “To paraphrase
creating a little hill of hundred-dollar bills in Shakespeare, ‘The play’s the thing wherein
front of her like a mini Mount Everest. we’ll make the mobster sing.’”

“Then we sit back and wait,” she con- “Ha! Hamlet, right?” Amelia cried, as JT
tinued. “Amelia, you go into seclusion on smiled, and Ruby pulled the pile of dough
account of your working on the play but we into her purse along with the yipping dog.

About the Author

Thomas Belton is an author with extensive publications
in fiction, poetry, non-fiction, magazine feature writing,
science writing, and journalism. His professional memoir,
“Protecting New Jersey’s Environment: From Cancer Alley
to the New Garden State (Rutgers University Press)” was
named an Honor Book by the New Jersey Council for the
Humanities. More recently, his Young Adult novel “The
Bargeman’s Daughter” won the “best first chapter contest”
for the literary journal, “Meet Me @ 19th” an imprint of

33

Adelaide Literary Magazine
Arch Street Press (12/28/20). http://www.archstreetpress.org/bargemans-daughter/ This
story “The Plays the Thing” was a winner in Writers Digest, “2017 Popular Fiction Awards for
Crime: Best Short Story.. His mystery short story, “The Murderous Wood,” featuring T.S. Eliot,
Sir James George Frazer, and Robert Graves as sleuths was published in “Mystery Weekly
Magazine” in 2019. He has also published short stories in the Young Adult literary magazine
“Cicada” and the arts magazine “Art News.” In non-fiction he has many publications including
a recent essay in Superstition Review, the literary magazine of Arizona State University on
climate change titled “Sea Level Rise and the Two Cultures.” https://blog.superstitionreview.
asu.edu/2020/11/17/sea-level-rise-and-the-two-cultures-a-guest-post-by-tom-belton/
He is also a frequent Op-Ed writer for the New York Times, The Baltimore Sun, and The
Philadelphia Inquirer.

34

ESCORTED
TO DEATH

by Christine Hand

‘Hurry up Gertie, we’ve got heaps to do; your had been good looking in their prime and
dilly-dallying is not going to get us through still were; and decidedly intelligent as well.
the day, is it?’ Age had given them a graceful demeanour.
Being identical twins, it was difficult to tell
Bianca, better known as Binky was al- them apart barring a few give-away signs
ready buckling herself up in the driver’s seat such as their voices, a slight difference in
of the slightly battered Volkswagen which hair colour and their style of dress. Binky
was desperately in need of a good wash and was by far the more organised and decisive
wax. of the two.

‘I’m coming, Binky, I’m coming,’ cried out It was a half hour drive to Colchester so
Gertrude as she hurried down the drive and Gertie made herself comfortable in her seat.
jumped into the passenger seat. Bianca had They passed the entrance to farmer Green’s
already started the engine and they took off property, waving to him perched on his
down the bumpy dirt track that led to the tractor at the far end. His cows were grazing
road. They turned left heading for Colchester. across the road, also part of his farm. The
daffodils were in bloom along the roadside,
Gertrude and Bianca were twins. Neither their vivid yellow contrasting with the lush
had married and now aged forty-five, they green cushion of the grass. All in all, it was
lived together in their parental home which a fabulous summer’s day with a bit of sun-
had once been Watson’s Farm. The farm shine and a host of wild flowers that would
was decidedly too much of a burden for the lend anyone a spring to their step.
two women to manage after the death of
their father. They sold the land and livestock The two women made this trip every
to their neighbour, farmer Green retaining fortnight to stock up on their food supplies,
only the cottage and a small allotment sur- generally all the things that they could not
rounding their residence. It was a mutually acquire locally. It made a nice break from
beneficial deal. the work week and had become more of an
outing rather than a dutiful shopping chore.
The local villagers were a bit surprised
that both girls had remained single, they

35

Adelaide Literary Magazine

Lunch in Colchester was usually on the ‘How about we make both? That way, I
cards but not today they had a big evening can still enjoy my sillabub,’ piped in Gertie.
ahead; they would have to busy themselves
preparing a super dinner for three to enter- ‘All the same to me, as long as you make
tain their visitor. both, Gertie,’ said Binky.

Gertie rummaged in her handbag and Gertie not only loved cooking, she was
pulled out a rather lengthy shopping list. rather fond of eating as well and Binky was
There were two parts to it, one consisted more than happy to indulge in the nev-
of the usual items that they purchased and er-ending recipes that Gertie would try her
the other was what they planned to get for hand at. Good food was something they both
the night’s supper. enjoyed.

‘Mm, Dover Sole, baby potatoes, spinach, They had arrived at Sainsbury’s car park;
mushrooms, it all sounds so good. I’m get- it was simply a matter of finding a good
ting rather hungry looking at this list. Per- spot. Binky was always particular about
haps we should stop off for a coffee and a that, wanting to be close to the lifts or the
cake before we do the shopping, just in case ramp leading to the shops. Gathering their
I feel faint with hunger.’ Gertie was obses- shopping bags together, the two sisters
sive about food. walked down the High Street eager to try
the newest coffee shop in town.
‘That sounds like a very good idea, Gertie.
Shall we try that new coffee shop we The aroma of fine teas could never
spotted last week? The cakes and pastries compete with the overwhelming smell of
in there looked fabulously sumptuous,’ said fine coffee and home baking. Yet, when it
Binky as she veered left into the turn-off came down to taste, it was tea that the two
for Colchester. ‘You know, we still haven’t women relished the most. Gertie decided
made up our mind about pudding. We were on an apple and almond flan while Binky
playing around with chocolate blancmange went for a blueberry Danish pastry. They
or sillabub. Any thoughts on that? We’ll would always choose different items from
need to get some ingredients while we’re the menu and then share.
here.’
‘This is absolutely divine,’ said Gertie
‘I’m all for sillabub. You know it’s my fa- as she cut half of her flan and slid it onto
vourite and I’d be happy to make it. So, shall Binky’s plate. Binky reciprocated. For a good
we say that’s settled?’ remarked Gertie five minutes the two were engrossed in
while making a quick note of what had to simply enjoying their cakes and tea.
be purchased.
‘I do hope Hugo is going to enjoy the eve-
‘Yes, sillabub it is then,’ said Binky ‘and you, ning with us,’ said Binky in a thoughtful kind
dear sister will be making it on our return.’ of mood. ‘It’s been a while since we last saw
him. He’s such a charmer, no wonder the
‘Well, that’s settled then,’ chirped Gertie, ladies fall for him! I bet he’s in high demand.’
happy at getting her way.
‘He certainly is charismatic, no denying
‘On second thoughts, not everyone likes that. I’m almost certain that he’ll like the
syllabub, perhaps we should go with the fish we’ve planned on, Binky, so put your
blancmange… just in case,’ remarked Binky. worries aside. He did say that he loved fish

36

Revista Literária Adelaide

and we can’t get any better than the fish They purchased a kilo of Dover sole and
monger here in Colchester. They say he’s half a dozen oysters and decided on half a
the best for miles around.’ kilo of prawns as well before leaving the
fish mongers. This was going to be a ver-
‘Yes, you’re right, I shouldn’t keep wor- itable feast and both sisters hoped dearly
rying. Anyway, changing the subject, you re- that Hugo was going to enjoy it as much as
ally did well with those outfits you ordered they would. They made a quick detour to
for us Gertie. I simply adore them and I’m the bottle shop for some champagne, wine
sure that Hugo will too. How on earth did and port for afters and it was back in the
you find that outlet’? queried Binky. car heading homewards to a very busy af-
ternoon.
‘Oh, it only took a little searching and
comparing on the web. I’m only glad that By the time the cooking was finished,
the sizes fit us so perfectly. We make such a Binky and Gertie felt exhausted and fam-
picture together in them; perhaps we should ished. A quick fruit salad of berries from
ask Hugo to take one of us together, or better the garden and a strong cup of tea pro-
still, one with all three of us… him in the vided the much-needed pick-me-up. It was
middle of course. I’m sure he’d manage to such a lovely afternoon, even Fuzzy the cat
organise that easily enough.’ was having a snooze on one of the garden
chairs while butterflies of every hue hov-
‘Oh yes, that really would be something ered around, moving gently from flower
to reminisce about in years to come,’ re- to flower. The two women could not have
torted Binky with a romantic sigh. dreamed of moving away from this idyllic
country hideaway, so far removed from a
‘Shall we then?’ remarked Gertie, noting busy suburban sprawl of houses where
that Binky had taken her final sip of tea. The neighbours could just look over the fence
coffee shop was a buzz with people waiting to see everything that happened next
for seats when they left. door. That was certainly not for them. They
counted their lucky stars they were able to
They had a busy day of shopping and hold on to what they treasured most in life,
cooking ahead. A quick walk through the their privacy and a quiet life.
aisles of Sainsbury and they had their
trolley load of the usual things that they The clock was ticking. Binky went in-
purchased except for a few specialities for side the kitchen and reappeared with two
the evening. It was quickly unloaded into glasses of champagne.
the boot of the car before trekking off to
the fishmongers. ‘Here’s to tonight,’ she said. ‘We want this
to be the best evening ever and that’s just
Trade was busy, it gave the two women what it’s going to be,’ she said handing a glass
time to look at the huge variety on display. to Gertie.

‘Binky, look at those oysters! They look What better way to start the evening off!
fabulous. I know we aren’t keen on them but The champagne was drunk rather hastily;
I recall Hugo mentioning how much he loves they needed time to get into their fancy
them. Shall we get a few… just for him?’ outfits that came with matching tie-around
dress coats. Gertie’s was blue and Binky’s
‘Yes, why not? Let’s get some... After all
it’s a special night for all of us so let’s make
the most of it.’

37

Adelaide Literary Magazine

was green. Both looked bewitching with their ‘Ladies, that cooking is smelling divine, I
black silk tights. The women often dressed hope it won’t be long before we start tucking
in look-alike outfits as they had done in their into it? I’m developing a rather roaring ap-
childhood days. It was now simply a case of petite with that fantastic aroma wafting out
waiting. All spruced up, the two women re- of the kitchen.’
laxed until they heard the screech of tyres
at the front door. It was just a few minutes ‘We have some oysters just for you
before six; as always, Hugo was so punctual. Hugo,’ said Gertie as they were sat around
the dining table a few minutes later. ‘I think
Binky had decided that she would be we’ll let you tuck into those first before the
the one to open the door and show him in main course.’
while Gertie would wait in the sitting room
beside the little trolley that held the drinks She placed the platter of oysters and
and champagne for the evening. a little container of lemon butter sauce
in front of a most ecstatic Hugo. The two
‘Hugo, how lovely to see you after all women sat facing him, entranced by the
these months,’ remarked Binky. ‘We have gusto with which he ate them. They were
missed you so much. Do come in and make happy relishing their champagne, looking
yourself comfortable. Gertie is simply dying forward to the main course and desert. In
to see you.’ due course, an exquisite home-cooked meal
was wiped clean off the plates.
Hugo gave Binky a kiss on each cheek.
‘That ladies, is absolutely one of the best
‘My word, you are looking rather well. feasts that I have had in a long time. Who
I must say I have missed you as much as needs to go to France for good food when
I hope you have missed me?’ Hugo was it is right here on my doorstep?’ Hugo knew
ushered into the sitting room where he re- how to flatter the two women to bits.
ceived a most joyous welcome from Gertie.
‘I might just nip upstairs to the toilet while
‘Hugo, I have missed you so much. How the two of you enjoy the clearing up,’ he stated.
long has it been now since we last saw you? ‘I know I’ll only get in the way of it all anyway.’
Almost four months, I believe,’ said Gertie. Hugo knew his way around the house.
‘Yes, that’s right, four months or a little bit
over. Do tell us about all your adventures. ‘We’ll see you upstairs in a little while,’
You said that you were off to the south of piped Binky with a little wink aimed at Gertie.
France on that wine tasting tour. How was it?’
The women were fastidious about
‘Superb, Gertie, just superb,’ replied cleaning up thoroughly but they were also
Hugo after having given Gertie a couple of quick with it. With a nifty wipe of the hands
pecks as well. ‘One must say that the French on the tea towel, the aprons came off and
do know their wines. Let’s see now, you they hurried upstairs to get ready for Hugo.
seem to have got some rather nice cham- He was going to be in for such a surprise!
pagne here, pink as well. I love the pinks, Both women were giggling as they took
they give such a warm feel to the drink,’ re- their dress coats off to expose their next
plied Hugo, examining the bottle carefully. layer of clothing; one in green, the other in
blue, it was erotic underwear. And what had
Gertie passed the drinks around and appeared to be black silk tights were in fact
they made a toast to celebrate. black silk stockings held up with black lace

38

Revista Literária Adelaide

garters. They were delighted with how they ‘Shall I open the door’? asked Gertie of
looked and twirled around in front of the her sister. Binky gave her the all clear with a
mirror complimenting each other and mas- nod. ‘Hugo, we’re just a bit concerned about
querading in naughty and inviting poses. you not answering. We’re going to open the
door and come in,’ she said as she turned
‘Binky, Hugo is really going to love this,’ the handle.
whispered Gertie. The bathroom was only
two doors away and they did not want him Both women gasped and put their hands
to hear them. to their mouths in horror as they saw poor,
dear Hugo lying face down on the bath-
‘I’ll be damned if he doesn’t. I mean, room floor. The awful odour of fishy puke
just look at us! We couldn’t look any sexier, hit them hard in the face. Their immediate
could we?’ commented Binky. reaction was to try not to breathe anymore.
Hugo had been sick all over the floor and
It was one more round in front of the there was still a small trickle saliva dripping
mirror, and the two women fell into the out of his mouth. His eyes were closed and
luxuriously made bed. Binky had made this his face looked as white as chalk.
her labour of love, a deep blue satin cover
with lots of multi-coloured satin cushions. It ‘Hugo, speak to us,’ said Binky as she tried
felt like heaven lying on it. The two sisters to shake a response out of him. There was no
held hands as they both went into their own response, no movement. ‘Hugo, are you all
worlds of imagination. How would Hugo right? We’ll get you to a doctor, don’t worry.
react to seeing them? Would he go abso-
lutely wild and jump into their midst? Would Gertie, help me to turn Hugo round, will
he say anything and if so what? The ques- you.’
tions passed through each of their minds.
They managed to get him lying on his
‘Gertie,’ said Binky in a soft voice. ‘Isn’t back. It was not a pretty sight. The bath-
Hugo taking rather a long time in the bath- room floor was covered in volumes of puke
room?’ and he looked far from alive.

‘Hm, I suppose so. How long has he been, Gertie broke into uncontrollable tears.
then?’
‘Oh Binky! Look at Hugo, I don’t believe
‘Almost half an hour. I think we’d better he’s alive, do you? I think Hugo’s died on us,
go and see what’s going on,’ said Binky as leaving us in all this silly stupid underwear.
she shot up from her reverie. Something And he never got to even see us in it!’
didn’t seem quite right.
She tried desperately to feel for a pulse
Both girls scrambled out of the bed on Hugo’s wrist. Binky had gone ashen
leaving it looking rather dishevelled. They white while she watched her sister try one
ran down the hall and started knocking on wrist and then the next. No luck.
the bathroom door.
‘It must have been that fish. No. We all
‘Hugo, are you all right? We’re just a little ate the fish, so we should be sick too. Oh,
worried about you.’ There was no answer. Binky, it must have been the oysters. He’s
the only one who ate the oysters. Let’s call
There was alarm on the women’s faces Doctor Perkins,’ said Gertie as she tried to
as they looked at each other. They tried leave the room to get to the phone.
again; no response. The panic set in.

39

Adelaide Literary Magazine

‘No, Gertie. We can’t call doctor Per- A plan was hatched. The two women
kins. Don’t you see the predicament we are quickly climbed into their gardening clothes,
in? We, two longstanding and respectable pulling them over their fancy underwear and
young women from the village having an then the hard work started. Binky grabbed
escort for a threesome! No. We most defi- Hugo by his feet and Gertie had him under his
nitely can’t call doctor Perkins. Our reputa- arms. It was a slow climb down the stairs, then
tion will be in tatters and we’d never be able into the garden. Getting Hugo into his car was
to live it down for the rest of our lives. We’ll a challenge but they finally had him propped
have to think of some other way, something up in the passenger seat. Binky decided it
a little more creative.’ best that she drive his car while Gertie would
follow her in theirs. Thankfully there were no
Binky rose slowly, went to the basin and street lights. The wind had picked up and the
ran the tap; both girls washed their hands and lightest of rain could be felt on their cheeks.
scrubbed up a bit. Gertie was still sobbing.
‘Who was that?’ shrieked Gertie just as she
‘Now Gertie, calm down. Try to not be was to get into the driver’s seat. She jumped
emotional. We have a dead body on our back only to tread on poor Fuzzy’s tail.
hands. An escort for that matter. We must
in no way be associated with him. So… how ‘You’re getting jittery for nothing Gertie.
are we to get out of this mess? Put your Stay calm and do as I say. There’s no one out
thinking cap on and we’ll have to try and at this time of night. Are you ready then?
get him out of here but to where…?’ Just follow me.’

‘How can we get out of such a mess? We They drove slowly. No headlights, not
are responsible for his death. We fed him until they reached the main road anyway.
oysters that were off,’ wailed Gertie. Once again, they were heading on the road
towards Colchester but this time, they
‘Hush, now Gertie. You’ve made a slight would be taking a detour into Church Lane.
mistake there. We bought the oysters from That was the next left. It was very much an
the fishmonger. It’s him who’s to blame for old country road dotted with potholes. The
poor Hugo dying, not us, Gertie’. Binky was drive was arduous, Binky had to either pull
always very level-headed. She grabbed a Hugo towards her or push him away from
towel and wiped Gertie’s tears away and her depending on the bumps.
let her have a good blow to clear her nose.
The little church was soon visible and
The two women made their way into the Binky sighed with relief. They had decided
bedroom and sat down on the bed holding that they would park Hugo’s car with him in-
hands. side, beside the church. That way, hopefully
he would be found first thing in the morning
‘It’s time to think now Gertie. We must and all going to plan, he’d be taken care of
not be associated in any way with Hugo, so sooner rather than later. There was a sharp
we need to get him away from the cottage. jerk as Binky jammed on the brakes. She was
But where to is the big question? We could not used to driving such a posh car; it had
leave him somewhere along the roadside… I rattled her a bit and she almost fell out of
suppose…? Oh, don’t forget we need to get the driver’s seat. Gertie drove up alongside
rid of his car as well so we’ll have to drive and Binky jumped into the passenger seat,
his car, and ours as well so that we can get relieved to be away from a very dead Hugo.
back home…’

40

Revista Literária Adelaide

‘Carry straight on Gertie. We can turn back garden when she heard the knock on
down Potter’s Lane and get home that way. the front door. Binky answered. Two cops
I want to be away from this place as fast as stood outside.
I can,’ wailed Binky, finally feeling the full
force of the night’s events. ‘Colchester constabulary Ma’am, this
is sergeant Black, I’m sergeant Robertson.
Gertie reached out and patted her on May we come in to ask you a few questions
the hand. The two sisters always stood by regarding a recent death in your area?’
each other, whatever the situation. They
both knew it would be a long night of scrub- ‘Yes… yes of course,’ said Binky opening
bing and cleaning. the door wider. She felt the blood drain
from her head, and had to use immense
‘I hope no one saw us… or heard the car…’ willpower to maintain her composure.
remarked Gertie.
‘Do come in…, take a seat. I’ll just go and
‘No, I believe we have indeed been very get my sister… she’s hanging the washing…
lucky.’ I.., I suppose you’d want to speak to both of
us…?’ muttered Binky as she dashed out; it
It was a sleepless night even after the afforded her the time she needed to gather
cleaning was over. Binky, as always took her thoughts together and she’d have to
charge of the situation, reminding Gertie to calm Gertie before they faced the cops.
act as normal as possible the next day. They
both had the day off work and just as well; Anyway, what did it have to do with
it would give them time to compose them- them? Nothing. The cops were just ques-
selves. Yet, neither could get much done, try tioning everyone in the neighbourhood.
as they did. It was seemingly endless cups Standard procedure, pure and simple!
of tea. They listened to the local news; the
vicar had discovered the parked car with ‘Gertie, it’s best you let me do the talking.
Hugo but nothing further was divulged. Just sit there and be polite and smile at them.
I’m sure it’s just the usual door-to-door.’
The late evening news gave more infor-
mation about the body being found and the ‘So, it’s Ms Gertrude and Ms Bianca
possible cause of death being food poisoning. Watson. Sisters, I gather?’
The sisters heaved a sigh of relief. It appeared
as though the whole thing would blow over. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Said Binky. ‘We’ve lived
On Friday, both girls would be at work and here all our lives.’
people were bound to talk about the strange
events. They would have to do their best to ‘Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about the
pretend interest but no knowledge as to what body that was found in a car by St Augus-
might have happened. Gossip was always tine’s church… we’re just wondering if either
flapping around; no one tired of it. They got of you saw or heard anything on Wednesday
through that day and finally felt able to relax evening, say, between the hours of nine and
with a glass of champagne on Friday evening. midnight?’
It was a late night after their favourite quiz
show and life was back to normal. ‘No… no, I don’t believe so. It certainly
has shocked the neighbourhood though. I
Saturday dawned bright and beautiful. wonder what he was doing by the church
Gertie was hanging the washing out in the anyway? Seems rather odd,’ remarked
Binky with a questioning look.

41

Adelaide Literary Magazine

‘Yes, it’s not often one drives oneself to know what needs doing. Let’s make this
church to die. You weren’t by any chance swift,’ remarked Binky.
expecting a visitor that evening?’
She gave the officers enough time to
‘No, not at all. We live a very quiet life disappear into the distance before heading
here and I believe Gertie and I retired rather into town. Binky explained to Camille, their
early that night. Wednesdays is usually an travel agent, what they were after.
early night for us.’
‘Yes, two tickets please. That’s right,
‘You don’t perhaps know anyone by the Kingston, Jamaica.’
name of Hugo Bertram?’
‘I can get you both on a flight tomorrow
‘No… no I don’t, that is… we don’t,’ re- morning if that suits you? So, you have an
marked Binky. aunty living there? How exciting. Well…I
mean, not that she is so seriously sick, but
The cop redirected the question to to have a reason to go over to such a para-
Gertie who reaffirmed in the negative. dise… I do hope you get to have some fun
while over there… no shortage of sunshine
‘Should you remember anything that anyway, but I would advise you to get your-
you might have seen or heard over the past selves a couple of good brollies. It’s an awful
few days, anything that seemed out of the lot of rain with that tropical heat.’
ordinary, please get in touch with us. We
feel that there is a particular connection ‘Thank you so much Camille and we do
with this parish so we’ll more than likely so appreciate you taking care of Fuzzy for
be back for another chat.’ They took their us. We’ll hope to see you when we get back,
leave, looked curiously around the side of don’t know when, but Aunt Meg would re-
the property and drove off. ally have to be well before we leave her. Be-
sides, we do intend on having a bit of fun
The sisters went inside and sat down on as well.’
the sofa.
Camille was rather taken aback by the
‘It’s just routine, it must be, but I feel unusual destination requested. The sisters
that those coppers have something on us,’ had never before mentioned an aunt in Ja-
remarked Binky. ‘Put the kettle on Gertie, I maica!
need an extra strong cuppa. I feel absolutely
drained.’ Binky got back to the house in high spirits.

The cops did not look back until they had ‘We leave tomorrow, Gertie, in the
got into their vehicle. morning. Isn’t it wonderful! It’s just what
the two of us need. A clean break to forget
‘There’s something odd about those two all this dreadful business.’
women, Black. I almost feel that they are
somehow connected with this affair. It’s ‘Tell me all, Binky. I can’t wait to get away
good we didn’t mention that the body was from here right now. Tomorrow morning
strangely in the passenger seat.’ The two of- sounds perfect… and I’ve got the bags
ficers got in their car, cast a suspicious eye packed with everything.’
back at the house and then moved on.
‘Let’s not forget a couple of brollies, Ca-
‘Right, Gertie, I’m off to Colchester. mille did say that it’s awfully wet out there…
Shan’t be too long. In the meantime, you

42

Revista Literária Adelaide

it’s that tropical weather and the monsoons, perhaps to rob him, who knows? But we’ll
you see…’ jolly well nail them…’

Next morning, the taxi picked the girls up The police car sped on towards the vil-
at eight thirty and two very relieved and ex- lage, only barely avoiding a collision with
cited women chatted excitedly about their a taxi going in the other direction and dis-
imaginary aunt and a long deserved, open- tinctly over the speed limit as well.
ended holiday as their cab raced them on
to Heathrow. ‘What’s a taxi doing around here?’ re-
marked Black. ‘One doesn’t see taxis in this
‘Eh, come and take a look at this, Black,’ backwater? What’s the world coming to
said Robertson. ‘This report says that Hugo these days?’
Bertram worked as an escort for that agency
in town, the one called Utopia. Further- ‘Indeed! Good question, …you know
more, on the night in question… Wednesday, Black, that’s about the most sensible thing
they were booked in for an appointment, you’ve said in the past week.’ Robertson
and guess where? At none other than Wat- and Black had just pulled up at the now
son’s Farm, with those two bloody women… empty Watson’s residence.
Who would have guessed? Two respectable
women in a sleepy little village, booked in Binky and Gertie were just about to take
for a threesome and all! …And the agency off on their plane.
says that Bertram never made contact after
that engagement.’ Black burst out laughing ‘Binky, do you think that we are in any
and was still ripping his sides as Robertson way liable for Hugo’s… Hugo’s demise?’
dragged him towards their car.
‘Well, technically speaking, they could
‘Those two women had everything to do prove that to be the case if they find out
with Bertram’s death. I mean, if it was food our connection with him, …and they surely
poisoning, why didn’t they call the doctor? will, once they identify him.’
They didn’t, because they murdered him,
‘What a good idea this holiday is!’ Gertie
sighed contentedly as the plane took off.

About the Author

Christine Hand is a Brisbane-based academic and has worked
in many parts of the world. She writes short stories and is
currently working on a novel. Christine was frequently
published in the “Korea Times”. She was also a regular writer
for an online platform “Suite 101”. Submissions were of an
academic nature and covered topics of a diverse range, mainly
socio-political, financial, and historical. Christine also covered
current affairs, book reviews and biographies.

43

NINA HEARTS
RASHAAD FOREVER

by Julian Grant

I flipped over the page I’d picked up to see favorite song as ‘Never Gonna Let You Go’
the scrawled note that Ms. Johnson (hopeful- as my neck tingled at her obsession with
ly soon to be Collins) had added to the front Rashaad that kept getting tighter and deeper
of the folded message. I’d found her paper and I figured that Rashaad had gotten the
on November 14, 2020 and she’d poured her note and tossed it. But that was a helluva
heart out on September 9, 1999. She’d even time for it to be in the wind and it would
scribbled down the time (11:05 am) and that have been long gone.
she was in English class at the time she had
written it. Here I was, a decade later, trying A large black oil-stain blotted out the fur-
to figure out if this was an old letter recent- ther message scribbled on the page – small
ly found and thrown out – or had it never fragments left to be figured out – “shit to
been sent? Had fear and possible humilia- do”, “beat my ass”, “be good”, and the most
tion stopped Nina from sending it and she’d telling, “when you get out.” It was that last
found it recently or something else? fragment that flashed me back to when I
worked next to a juvenile offender’s fa-
Water spotted and torn, I’d dug the dec- cility. I’d find torn-up letters like this lying
laration out of the trash that collected on a by the trashcan or stuck on the bus stop
regular basis in our front yard. All kinds of shelter windows. Teenage declarations
garbage smashed into the ripped patch of of love, crude fuck poems, simply written
lawn fronting our home. I’d thought it was and barely legible forget-me-nots all lost or
just another piece of junk that normally thrown away. I figured Rashaad had prob-
I’d just bag and toss it - but it was folded ably been locked up too.
with writing all over it and I’m nosey by na-
ture. Three-holed, bleached white by the So, I kept Nina’s last letter because
weather, it had been kicking around in the someone should remember that she loved
wind for a long while. Rashaad forever even if he didn’t know or
care. Her letter promised eternity and I felt
Nina had covered both sides of the page I owed her some kind of memory and that
with her tight writing even listing their someone should care enough to value her

44

Revista Literária Adelaide
teenage love. She’d sent her heart over the
wall and Rashaad probably tossed it in the
street when he finally got out. Maybe he
was one of my new neighbors? I hope Nina
didn’t mean what she wrote and had moved
on – not wanting to wait for him after all. He
might have forgotten her or given up on her.
I hope she’d forgotten about him and they
hadn’t stuck it out.

About the Author
Julian Grant is an animator, an educator, and author of strange and unique short stories plus full-
length novels/ non-fiction texts and comics. A tenured Associate Professor at Columbia College
Chicago, his work is enjoyed worldwide. Find out more about him atwww.juliangrant.com.

45

AGORAPHOBIA

by Ross Mayo

Every day in today’s world is chaotic. Most time, they are only separated by a voice
people are either riding on a fast-moving or face over a phone. Those phone calls
train or are in desperate need to catch a throughout the day accompany two events
ride on one. Whether it be an occupation that bookend their everyday lives. Every
or leisurely pursuit, that fast-moving train morning, Kyle calls Kelly and asks her to de-
of life is an addiction whose rush is sought scribe the morning since his apartment has
by those who believe it will fill the voids no windows while hers does. At 8 o’clock
in their lives with the hope that it will give p.m., both Kyle and Kelly would sit as far
meaning to it, at the same time swearing outside their doors as they are mentally
by their pursuit as if it were a religion. All able to and roll a baseball to each other for
the while they never realize that they do in- thirty minutes hoping that it would encour-
deed have a choice in the matter. For Kyle age them to overcome their fear. Either by
and Kelly, the condition that they are afflict- fate or coincidence, they found each other
ed with forces limits in their life preventing two years ago, both with the same condi-
them from having the choices so many of tion, and both in close proximity to each
us take for granted. They cannot see over other. From that moment on, this would be
the mountain that many of us make of life, the way that they would share their lives.
but instead, both are forced to live in the
valley below. It is a bubble that they can- 8:00 a.m.
not escape, and in fact, it is all they have
ever known. They both know and accept “Describe what you’re seeing as you look
this, but what has made their acceptance out your window this morning, Kelly?” Kyle
palpable is that they have each other, even asks her on the phone, a question Kyle asks
though they are only separated by a short every morning.
distance. Thirty floors high in an apartment
building, Kyle and Kelly live three doors “Today is a rainy day, and the clouds are
down from each other on opposite sides of shielding me from the sun. When I look
the hall. Even though they never leave their down below, I can see the empty benches
apartment because mentally they are un- and people walking by each other carrying
able to, they are always connected to each umbrellas.”
other because technology enables them to
be connected to each other. Most of the “Nothing special, then, huh?”

“Not at all. I may miss the song of the
birds this morning, which would ordinarily

46

Revista Literária Adelaide

fill the air of a sunny sky, but the rhythm of down together leads them towards greener
the rain more than makes up for it.” pastures when it comes to their emotional
state. In a strange way, they not only have a
“Your ability to see the glass half full is life that they live alone, but they also have a
something that I admire about you, Kelly.” life that they share together, albeit in spurts
throughout their typical day. As a result of
“It doesn’t do me any good in life.” this arrangement, when they are not talking
to each other, they are working. Kelly
“We both know that’s not true.” works from home as an accountant. Kyle is
self-employed as a web site developer. Both
“Maybe. At least we have each other.” professional occupations, but also counter
to the chaotic world around them, as they
“That’s enough for me.” try to build their individual lives as much as
possible in a bubble that they both know
“Me too.” that they can never leave.

“May I ask you a question, Kelly?” 11:30 a.m.

“Go ahead.” Kelly opens the door to her weekly de-
livery of food, but after she picks it up, she
“Do you ever get tired of me asking you forgets to close the door behind her. Not
the same question every morning?” realizing that her door is open, she follows
her usual routine and proceeds to fill up
“Never. It reminds me that every day is dif- her cabinets and refrigerator. Once every-
ferent, and every time I look out my window, thing is in place, she turns around, and in
I see something different. At the same time, her rush to close the door, she knocks over
every time I look out my window, I see a table. A small box of personal items on
something special. Besides, Kyle, I would that table falls to the ground. All but one
miss that question if you ever stopped item falls in place. The most important item
asking me it. My mornings wouldn’t be the among them, her mother’s wedding ring,
same without you. I would miss your voice. rolls out the door to the opposite side of
I would miss you,” Kelly replies. the hall. Kelly hurries to the door but strug-
gles to exit in order to retrieve her prized
“I would miss you too, Kelly, and it’s heirloom. She closes her eyes, takes in a
not because you’re my eyes and ears to deep breath of air, and makes an earnest
the world. Believe me when I tell you that attempt to walk out of her apartment and
you’re incredibly special to me in ways I’m recover the ring. As much as she might try,
afraid to admit to you.” she continues to succumb to her condition.
After a few minutes, a teenager runs down
“You don’t know how good it makes me the hall. Kelly captures the young girl’s at-
feel you telling me that.” tention and asks for her help. What initially
seems like a stroke of good luck turns out
“It’s the truth.” to be a turn for the worse as the girl picks
up the ring. The two women’s eyes lock,
“I know it is, because I feel the same way.” and in that instant, Kelly knows what the

As usual, the spirits of both Kyle and Kelly
are lifted after the call ends. Their solitary
lives in their apartments do not lend well to
generating positive feelings as confinement
without human interaction usually leads
down a darker road. The phone calls they
share ensures that the road that they walk

47

Adelaide Literary Magazine

girl is going to do. Kelly can do nothing but person is when we roll the baseball back and
watch as the girl absconds with a symbol forth between us. If it were more often than
of her family’s generational treasure. Kelly that, I wouldn’t look forward to it as much.
slowly closes the door with this incident in I’m afraid I won’t look forward to seeing
the forefront of her mind as an example of you as much. That fear is what I cope with
what she perceives as her strongest short- every day. At 8 o’clock every night, we sit as
comings as a human being, something that far outside our doors and roll the baseball
is as immovable as a mountain. back and forth to each other in the hopes
that it might help us overcome our fear by
“I have so much promise within me, but I giving us the incentive to go further outside
have the incapability to offer it to the world, our apartments than we’re usually capable
not to mention my inability to act in my own of. For me, the ball roll is more than just
self-interest, or another’s, and that is my therapy to help us cope with our condition.
greatest failing,” she says to herself. For me, it’s personal.”

2:30 p.m. “I mean that much to you?”

“What’s wrong, Kelly?” “Yes, you do, Kelly, so if it’s such a burden
for you, you don’t have to go into detail. You
“Nothing.” can tell me in broad strokes. It might make
you feel better.”
“Yes, there is. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Something happened today, and I failed
“Maybe a conversation for another time.” to act the way I told myself I would act if a
situation presented itself like that ever oc-
“We’ve known each other for two years curred.”
now. A friend knows when something is
wrong.” “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. These
things happen so we can learn from them.
“Is that all I am to you; a friend?” The next time something like that happens,
maybe you’ll act the way you’ve always
“Let me put it this way, even though wanted to. It’s like climbing a mountain.
we’re talking to each other on the phone You don’t get to the top in big leaps. You get
right now, you’re someone who I can’t get to the top in small steps. When you finally
through my day, even life itself, without reach the top, that accomplishment will be-
knowing that you are somewhere close. I long to you, and it’s something no one can
don’t feel like I want to do anything unless ever take away.”
I know that you’re here, near me. I can
hear you on the phone. I can see you on “But I lost something that meant a lot to
the phone. It’s at 8 o’clock every night that me. I wish that time would have been then.
I look the most forward to, because I can I have to wonder out loud if I’m ever called
see you in person and know for sure that upon to act again whether I’d be able to act
your there.” despite my condition.”

“We could see each other more often “When the time is right, I’m confident you’ll
during the day than just at 8 o’clock every find the strength to do what you couldn’t.”
night,” Kelly replies.
“How can you be so sure, Kyle?”
“I wake up every morning. I eat. I do my
job. I talk to you. The only time I see you in

48