The Assassin
The loud vibrations of my phone against the nightstand sent my eyes popping open, ripping me right out of my sleep. I grabbed it before the sound could wake Simone up. She was sleeping on my chest, her face relaxed from good dreams for once.
I looked at the screen between narrowed eyes. I didn’t recognize the number, so I reluctantly scooted out of bed and left the room to answer it.
“Hi, is this Mateo Anderson?” A woman’s polite voice rang on the other end. Behind her voice, I could hear the chatter of other voices and the trills of other phones. At this hour there was only one place she could be calling from.
“Yes,” I replied, continuing into the living room.
“This is Dr. Washington from Pittsburgh General Hospital. I treated your father during his time in the emergency room this evening.”
“Is he alright?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Anderson passed away a few minutes ago.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What? How?”
“When he arrived, he was experiencing a very severe case of cardiac arrest. While we were treating him, his heart stopped. We did everything we could, but unfortunately we couldn’t get his heartbeat back. I am so sorry for your loss.”
Her words faded in and out, sometimes right in my ear and others far away. Focusing on the details was hard, but it was part of the role I needed to play. “It’s alright. Um, thank you for trying to get him back. What, uh…what happens now?”
“You’ll need to contact a funeral home for the collection of the body. We’ll store it here in our morgue for the time being. Would you like me to refer you to some businesses in the area?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I went into the kitchen, grabbed a pen and paper, and jotted down some of the information of the businesses she listed off.
Footsteps padded down the hall as she finished explaining the next steps. I glanced up to see Simone walking into the room with my wrinkled tee thrown over her body. She rubbed her eyes as she approached me.
“Okay. Thank you,” I told the doctor before hanging up the phone. I couldn’t contain my sigh as I tossed it onto the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Simone asked. She wrapped her arms around my torso from behind and lay her head against my back.
“Nothing,” I replied, my voice tight. “You should go back to bed.”
“Hey,” she tried to turn me around. “Talk to me.”
I hesitated, the words clogging up in my throat. “Ares…he…he died.”
“What? How? He seemed fine when we had dinner last month.”
“He’s been sick for some time. Heart disease.”
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll need to drive to Pittsburgh in the morning. Make arrangements for cremation.”
Simone grasped my chin and turned my head towards her. “Is it too soon to ask how you’re doing?”
“Yeah. Ask me tomorrow night.”
She rubbed my back. “Okay. Let’s get you back to bed.”
I let her lead me back to the bedroom, but I couldn’t fall asleep once my body hit the mattress.
After all the people I’ve lost in my life, I thought grief would be easy by now. I’ve learned to welcome the heaviness in my chest and the burn in my throat. Yet, even with open doors, they still raced inside with hammers and knives, determined to tear every inch of my walls down.
The only difference now was no tears accompanied the pain.
Those dried up not too long after Ares took me in.
One of my first lessons was that emotions were an assassin’s worst weakness.
Getting attached or invested in a target or a job was essentially a death sentence.
So, it was best to put all of them in a box and lock them away in the deepest depths of your psyche.
Easier said than done, of course - especially at my young age. I barely knew how to cope with my emotions, much less suppress them.
Ares taught me how to compartmentalize after the first kills.
He usually made me sit in a dark room alone or take solo walks, telling me it was the only time I’d get to sit with my emotions.
Once he opened the door or I returned to the house, all of it needed to be flushed from my brain.
It wasn’t long before I didn’t need alone time at all. It just came naturally.
Grief was no different. Although I felt the agony of the weight on my shoulders, I didn’t let it bother me. I couldn’t. Not when the weight of my new responsibilities were heavier.
Maria didn’t even blink when I told her the news in the morning. She just nodded, eyeing the frown on my lips. I’m sorry, She signed. I know he meant something to you.
“It’s fine,” I replied with a shrug. “It was about time he retired, anyway. He was getting too old for this shit.”
She smiled. And let me guess: he handed you the mantle.
“Yeah, don’t remind me.”
On the drive up to Pittsburgh, Simone handled the calls to the funeral home while I drove. Neither of the women wanted me driving, but I needed the distraction. I didn’t really want to sit with my thoughts right now.
At the hospital, the charge nurse handed me the bag of the personal items Ares arrived with. The only thing inside was a wallet, thick with contents I’d sort through later.
“Would you like to see him?” She asked.
Not really, the words almost came out of my mouth. I had to remind myself of the role I was playing. Just because I didn’t want to see another dead mentor didn’t mean the grieving son wouldn’t want to see his loving father. Feigning a mournful frown, I gave a slow nod.
She led me across the hall of the emergency department towards a small, quiet room.
Inside, Ares’s body lay still on a cot with a fresh gown and blanket over him.
One arm was tucked inside and the other wasn’t.
His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, but his chest wasn’t moving.
A cloak of paleness was draped over his skin, what little color he had stripped from him.
“Did he feel any pain?” I asked the nurse.
“Yes,” she admitted. “But I don’t believe it was for long.”
I nodded.
“Would you like a minute alone with him?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
I waited until I heard the click of the door to walk towards him. I sat in the chair beside his untucked hand. Closing my eyes, I folded my hands against my lips and murmured a short prayer. One my mother used to say with me before bed every night.
I didn’t know if it’d do any good for him considering all the sins he’d committed in his life, but I hoped it’d bring his soul some comfort.
If not, at least it bought some to mine.