6. Exodus “Yin” Tan
EXODUS “YIN” TAN
It was strange that every time Alisha Quinn hurt, I wanted to fix it.
And for the brief moment I’d known her, her aura told me she wasn’t that kind of woman. She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed me to control things.
She was the kind of woman who took a piece of wood to a man’s chest when she was angry and scared.
The kind of woman who didn’t cower in a corner, waiting for some saviour.
She was the kind of woman who braced herself, dug her heels in even when terrified only to crash later after the ordeal.
That in her reminded me of my mother.
The strength in a windstorm kind of personality.
The if you see me cry it’s because you’re about to die type.
The kind of woman that was a tower when she had to be and cried when she was alone.
The truth of it was that I wasn’t sure what was going to happen—but there was something.
I pressed a palm over my heart and allowed myself a few deep breaths.
Sam never told me spending time with Alisha was like an addiction. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but the more time I spent with her when she wasn’t worried about things in dark corners, she was an absolute joy.
Her brown eyes smiling were like rays from the moon.
What are these feelings?
“What do you want to eat?” I asked.
“Anything is fine.”
Leaning my back to the wall, I folded my arms across my chest.
“You had a crap day. You get to eat something that would actually make you happy.”
She giggled.
I melted.
I mentally slapped myself.
“So?” I asked, softer than I ever thought I could manage.
“Massam curry.”
“Thai?” I arched a brow.
She nodded and I smiled.
“Okay. Your wish is my command.”
“Exodus?” Alisha blinked. “Are you fluent in Mandarin?”
“Shì de.” I replied while nodding. “Mama Tan is?—”
“I get it—Sam, remember?”
Approaching her, I leaned in to be on eye level with her.
“I know for some women, a man who speaks a second language turns them on.” I tapped the tip of her nose, gently with a finger. “Is that the case for you?”
Her hands found her cheeks—she tapped gently before fleeing the room.
“Yeah.” I laughed softly. “I think Alisha Quinn is turned on.”
“Kitty?” I cooed loudly to get her attention.
“Bite me!”
I chortled.
“Well, in order to do that, you have to stop hiding.” I responded.
Nothing but silence.
Wandering through the house, I found that she’d locked herself in one of the bathrooms.
I knocked.
“Kitty?” I called. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine. Go away!”
“Can I at least ask you something?”
Silence.
“Kitty—”
“What?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I turned to lean my back to the wall beside the door and folded my arms over my chest.
“Are you going to stop hiding so I can actually bite you, or?—”
The toilet flushed followed by the tap running.
When she yanked the door opened, I didn’t move.
“Or were you just being a tease?” I added.
“Uh!” She lifted her eyes to the ceiling then stomped off down the hall. “So annoying!”
“Is that a no?” I called.
“Arg!”
She slammed her door.
Time passed.
Though I knew we couldn’t stay like this forever, I tried enjoying the small moments. There was no way to have the warmth she gave when happy could last forever and that thought broke my heart.
As she ate from a plate of coconut rice with the curry, I remembered what had happened the night before.
She fell asleep during the movie after telling me stories from her childhood.
I allowed her to talk not because I wanted to be social. But because she seemed content then. She giggled like a schoolgirl, hung her head when something embarrassed her and laughed.
The sound of her laughter floated through the room like my favourite song.
And then fell asleep on the sofa with her head on my shoulder.
There were very few things in the world that made a man feel stronger than a woman depending on him to protect her—to be the strength under her head.
Though I didn’t want to move her, I scooped her into my arms and was stunned when she moaned and curled into me. I sat on the sofa with her curled in on me, her warmth feeling like the most comforting thing in the world.
Turning my head, I helplessly brushed my lips against her forehead and trembled softly.
I’m in trouble.
Bringing her to the bed, I tucked her in then closed the window and drew the curtains in place.
Walking back to the side of her bed, I watched her face.
The soft light from the bedside lamp glowed over the brownness of her skin.
I ached to kiss the soft corners of her lips, the spot between her eyes, the tip of her chin. I wanted to taste that spot at her chest, right between her breasts?—
Hanging my head a moment, I smiled, shook my head and turned off the lights. Still, I hesitated a moment before exiting. I didn’t look back because I was barely holding myself together at it was. Instead, I closed the door behind me and wandered back to the living room.
In order to remain sane, I set to work.
“Squirrel, do me a solid?” I spoke when my friend picked up.
“Sure.” He was snacking. “What’s up?”
“Can you have Sam drop you over here tomorrow?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I have somewhere to go and I want you to stay with Alisha.”
Squirrel laughed. “Don’t you mean Kitty?”
“You been talking to Bambam again? I told you not to do that. She’s liable to get your ass kicked.”
“Bahahaha.”
Groaning, I hung up.
Squirrel called right back.
Deep down, I knew answering was just going to raise my blood pressure. Still, I slid the flashing accept bar up.
“Yo.” I answered the phone.
“I have something important to say.” Squirrel told me.
I doubt it,
“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”
“Hahahaha!”
“Son of a bitch.” I swore.
I hung up.
“I need new friends.” I groaned as a text message came in.
—haha—
From Sam.
—Keep this up, Sammy Boy. You’re not too old to get disowned.— Was my reply.
—The only way out of this family is death. So, nice try?—
I swore under my breath.
* * *
The next morning before the house was fully awake, Squirrel text me that he was outside. Pulling my shirt on, I buttoned it on my way to open the door to find Sam standing there with Squirrel. I pressed a finger to my lips and eased out of the way to allow them inside.
“Kitty’s still sleeping.” I glanced at my watch while closing the door. “I’ll be back to take her to school, but right now I have to go meet Tha’lab.”
“What are you up to?” Sam asked as he poured himself some coffee.
“I wanna go talk to a connection. Tha’lab is my backup.”
“I worry about your secret connections.” Squirrel rested his ass on the arm of the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. “You sure you don’t need more backup?”
“I’ll be fine. If I need anything I’ll call Bam.”
“I know this woman is amazing, Yin.” Squirrel pointed out. “But what’s she going to do from her toilet somewhere?”
Sam laughed.
“Some questions, you shouldn’t’ ask, brother.” Sam explained. “The answers could get you killed.”
“Well, damn, brother.” Squirrel groaned.
Shaking my head, I turned to get my wallet, helmet and phone.
“See you later.” I waved over a shoulder.
The morning was dusky with the sun hiding behind some clouds that seemed unsure if they wanted to disperse or explode.
A colder than usual breeze floated through the trees leaving a strange, soft wooing sound. And while all I wanted to do was go back to bed, I found myself zig-zagging through traffic, along the Don Valley Parkway to meet up with Tha’lab on the ass side of town.
“Incoming call—from—Yang.” The automated voice in the helmet spoke. “Accept or decline.”
“Decline.”
The helmet chirped.
I couldn’t concentrate on my brother right then and I made a mental note to call him back.
Slowing to veer right off the highway, I paused at a stop sign to check traffic before turning ahead of a slow truck.
Climbing off the motorcycle, I removed my helmet and hung it on one side of the handlebars. Turning, it was in time to have Tha’lab approach me. Her face was set, a serious knot of the spot between her eyes, her posture telling me she was ready for business.
Together, we walked across the lot from where we parked and climbed the front steps.
I reached for the door handle but paused.
During this breath, Tha’lab tucked her badge now hanging from a silver chain into the neck of her shirt. She unclipped the safety on her holster but tugged her oversized hoodie down over it and felt against the edges of her hijab.
It was her way of making sure her hair was all tucked away.
Habit, I supposed.
When she pressed her lips into a determined line and offered me a nod, I gripped the doorhandle, rough with years of caked on grime and let ourselves inside.
It was a shithole.
She sneezed as a scent I couldn’t describe filled our nostrils. It was a mixture of unclean.
Dust, stale booze, cigarette, weed—is that cat piss?
Breathing through my mouth didn’t help.
A man sat at a corner booth, so drunk, he was leaning dangerously to the side. The only thing keeping him on his seat was sheer will or a prayer.
“It’s barely nine in the morning!” Tha’lab mumbled to me. “How is he that drunk already?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, I suppose.” I offered her a one shoulder shrug while my eyes adjusted to change in lighting.
Lester, a staple of the place, sat in a far corner of the bar—the same corner he’d been in for fifteen years—staring into a plate of too much bacon, eggs and what I was hoping was home fries.
“Yeah.” Thab’lab muttered. “Whatever you have in mind, let’s do it and get out of here. It smells like death.”
She then walked away from me taking up position to back me up if I needed help. She ordered a drink but didn’t move to pick it up when it was delivered. I cleared my throat and moved across the crusty floor to sit on the stool beside Lester.
He looked up at me as if I was the bringer of death and he was ready—he was over the fear of the darkness and was ready for whatever came.
“Do you know this man?” I slid my phone across the greasy counter toward his plate.
His old greying eyes scanned the image then went back to his food.
“They call him Spinz.” Lester explained. “Don’t know his real name—didn’t care because I figured he wouldn’t last ‘round ‘ere. Haven’t seen him in a while, though.”
“When you say a while, how long we talkin’ here?”
“Years.” Lester answered. “Had a baby. I thought maybe the kid mellowed him out. Put him on the straight. Sobered him up. I didn’t think he was built for the life—talked too much.”
“I see. What kind of man was he?”
“Always had more mouth than brains—you know the type?”
“The type?”
“Gambling.” Lester chewed on some of that suspicious carbs and swallowed. “Gambling—hard. That would have been bad and not too bad, but he wasn’t any good at it. Didn’t stop him none.”
I made a sound in my throat.
“Too bad.” Lester belched. “If you’re looking for him, that means he’s in some shit.”
I opened my mouth to speak but Lester held up a hand to silence me.
“I don’t wanna know. Follow the money. I can’t tell you how many times his old lady showed up to drag his ass out-ta here. He had a problem so bad, he itched. That doesn’t just go away.”
I stood and dropped a fifty on the counter.
“When you gonna to stop eating this shit, Lester?” I wanted to know. “It’ll kill you.”
“When you lose a fight.”
I laughed.
“Besides,” he said. “We all gatta die of somethin’.”
“I hear that.” I agreed. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Mhm.” Lester groaned as he shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth.
Tha’lab and I exited the bar and stood by her car. She relatched the safety over her gun then unzipped her hoodie to expose a Might Mouse t-shirt underneath. After resting her hand akimbo, she looked up into my face.
“You really think this is about the father after all these years?” She wanted to know.
“Mama Tan thinks so.” I responded folding my arms across my chest. “And I don’t have any other leads.”
Tha’lab sighed, heavily.
Aside from the fact she’s never wrong, there was this feeling in my gut. It was the same kind of feeling one got from eating gas station sushi.
Dirty money always attracted some bullshit and underground gambling was dirty.