WTC 5: Raccoons

Marco pulled up in his vintage black Mercedes at a dingy strip mall located across the street from Horseshoe Plaza, in front of the crabby front of Larry’s office. He was accompanied by his junkie errand boy, the same man to whom he made a drop-off last Friday with Theo present. As they were walking through the hall to Marco’s office, they brushed past a woman with scant clothes and excessive makeup, who gave them an aggressive look. 

“Hi Nelly,” Marco greeted her. The woman said nothing and disappeared behind the jingle of the glass front door. 

Inside, Larry was fumbling through some papers and pounding a bulky commerce calculator with his index finger. He was wearing a navy blue pin-striped suit and an expensive grey shirt with golden cuff links.

“Have a seat, boys,” he said, continuing to fumble through the papers.

“I got a big order,” Marco said as he slumped into an arm chair facing Marco’s desk. The junkie sat on a folding chair next to him. 

Marco continued: “The prospecting of that kid Theo worked. I hung out with him a couple of days ago and we talked. He turns around and asks for a big order the next day.”

“Did you find out about him?” Larry asked. 

“Yeah, right on the day of the fight. I talked to cousin Darius about Theo, and he filled me in. He had good things to say. He told me that the kid is strong, smart, and desperate. He comes from a decent family, but they are under water financially. His pops’ business went bankrupt recently.”

“Go on,” said Larry without lifting his head from the paperwork.

“He went to a local high school and most of his friends went there too. They’re all regular suburban types. Lot of them hang out at Twins Coffee up on Rutherford Avenue. He even went to university for engineering but couldn’t get a job. He developed a wild streak, started boxing and making minor trouble. He lived like a bum for a while, until finally he managed to take up the construction job about a year ago and keep it. He’s broke. At work, people make fun of him for going to university and now working construction with the rest of them illiterates. The only thing he got out of university was a load of debt he’s now trying to shake off.”

“Hmm,” mused Larry. “That sounds interesting.”

Marco continued: “Yeah. So, I decided to meet the kid right that day. Darius told me he likes to smoke a joint every once in a while, so I figured we’d pick him up and take him to my downtown apartment. Get on his good side, build some trust, and see if he’s material for our crew. I showed him a bit of our business, drove him around a bit. Couple of days later, he calls me up and places an order. I figured if he proves himself capable, I might even recommend him to the bikers.”

“What are you giving him?” asked Larry. 

“Five-k worth of white, green, vitamin pills.”

Larry put down the papers and looked up. Marco looked like a giant raccoon staring him straight and cold. The junky was rocking back and forth in his chair and staring at the floor. He also looked like a racoon, but a thin and gaunt one. A rumpled racoon.

“No way?” said Larry, “That kid really has balls! First he almost murders Kick, and if you didn’t happen to sit right in that chair when Kick came in all disfigured, and if you didn’t tell me your cousin happened to have also participated in the beating, we were going to… you know, retaliate proportionally.”

Marco did not appreciate the fortuity. “Yeah, but also you went too far messing with Raul. He knows people too, you know, he’s not some hobo to be bullied at random.”

“Just remember never to let Kick find out that you are cousins with Darius, okay?” said Larry, then continued with business: “Anyways, where’s Theo going to sell?”

“Well, good question. I asked around. Turns out he made some contacts in Pine Grove. Some bankers. Probably going to sell to them.”

“Ah! Bankers are my favorite customers,” Larry leaned back in his chair. “They pay well, they buy a lot, and they stay out of trouble. And they contribute to the economy - well arguably, haha... Who in Pine Grove? I know everyone in Pine Grove, more or less. May be our customers already.”

“Ha-ha, yeah right!” chuckled Marco. “Those are establishment folk. They’d cross the street if they saw you, bro.”

“Right, you explain to me please how things work in this town. My sister lives in Pine Grove. Her children go to school with children from Pine Grove. She brings me to country clubs in Pine Grove. Stick to the suburbs kid. And give me some names.”

“Neil McCracken.”

Larry stood up and began to pour himself a whiskey. “Don’t know Neil. You want?”

“I told you before I don’t drink.” 

“Ah right, you heartless goon. What about your friend? Is he praying? Hey, you want a drink, kid?”

“What?” The junkie slowly returned from his reveries. “Drink? Sure man. But do you have maybe some weed or something?”

“Shut up, Milly,” said Marco. “I told you, you dumb shit: you can’t have anything until you pay off your debt. And I got a lot more chores for you, you bum. You are not spazzing out yet, so sit there and don’t talk.” He then turned to Larry: “He doesn’t want a drink.”

“What’s wrong, eh?” Larry laughed. He sat back in his armchair and put his feet sideways on his desk. He measured Milly with a smile. He shook his head: “Maxed out your credit, didn’t you, Milly? Kids these days! They walk around acting all tough, listening to all that rap, acting like gangsters. Yet you flip them upside down and shake them by their feet, and you can’t shake out a penny out of their panties. You can’t be a bum like that Milly! You hear me?”

Milly was apologetic: “Yeah, man, it’s just that I had a rough time lately, that’s it. My old man took my cash man, he said I gotta pitch in on rent. I was stressed out and Marco hooked me up with some dope, but now I gotta pay him back.”

Marco stooped down to look into Milly’s downcast face and lightly slapped him on each cheek. “Damn right you have to pay me back! And remember that fifty percent interest adds every Friday. You’re getting a paycheck next Friday, right? You know how to count right? Mister Larry can let you use his calculator if you can’t.”

“Yeah man, I’ll pay you next Friday.”

“Next Friday, and the Friday after that, and the Friday after that!” said Marco. “You will never learn to save up ahead of time!” He slapped Milly on the cheek again, and shook his head too, then looked back at Larry.

Afternoon sun was piercing through a greasy set of Venetian blinds. Larry leaned back in his leather chair and sipped on his whiskey. The front door jingled, and his bodyguard Kick came in with a couple of bags of fast food. He was stitched and bandaged on the head and face and had one arm in a cast.  

“Got the burgers,” he said to Larry. 

Larry handed burgers to himself, Marco, and Kick. There wasn’t one for Milly. 

“Ah man, seriously?” Milly complained. “That sucks, I was feeling like a burger. Yo, can I at least have some fries?”

“Take my fries you bum,” said Marco, “I don’t want you passing out on me. You look like you’re about to. You know what, get the hell out of here. Wait for me by the car. Go!”

Milly got up with the fries. As he hastily turned and walked towards the exit he bumped into Kick, who was standing by the door. Kick then pushed him violently into a steel cabinet.

 “Watch where you are going, you dumbass! Can’t you see how injured I am?”

As Milly slammed into the cabinet, he spilled his fries. 

“Pick those off my carpet!” Larry yelled. Milly began picking the fries back into the paper box. He then left the room. Marco twisted his facial muscles into a semblance of a smile and Larry chuckled and shook his head. Kick chuckled too, once he saw his boss do it.

“What a weak, weak man,” said Larry. “Can’t believe people can get so weak... This could be something with that new kid. Let him have the goods on credit. Needless to say, make sure Milly is the one to hand them over to him. Give him the most premium stuff, for everything – and tell him to charge premium, too. These are high-end customers. Then put some pressure on him, keep the payment terms short. Keep an eye on him. Let’s see how he performs.”

“Yeah, I know some people,” said Marco.

Soon after, Marco walked out of the office and got back into his Mercedes. Milly, the junky, was waiting for him sitting on the kerb, still eating his fries. The sun was setting on top of the roof of the plaza building across the street, blinding Marco from looking that way. He could not see two figures sitting on its roof, having a coffee and donuts. One was the long, lanky torso of Raul smoking a cigarette, and the other was that of Theo. 

“I know that, guy. He’s a drug dealer,” said Theo.

“You don’t know shit,” said Raul. “And you better don’t. There are all kinds of people coming in and out of that office.”

“Yeah, there are also whores. Saw one earlier.”

“Get back to work, kid,” Raul said brusquely. He got up and began to put his harness and tool belt back on. As he was preparing for the last bit of work for the day, he lectured Theo: “And keep your cat eyes away from those people. You don’t want to know anything about them. You are not supposed to know anything about them. Your job is to work - they do stuff that people like you and I can’t fathom. Not everyone can pull off the stuff they do, let me tell you. I’ve been fixing their properties for them for four years, and I’ve never fixed the same plaza twice. You know what I mean? And what do you got? What do I got? You are just a young punk who got lucky they didn’t pay you back for that dog. And his dog. And you are just a dog in their eyes, too. Just a reckless punk.”

“Those people were going to rob you of half your paycheck if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yes, and that’s why you are fired. So, get over behind there before they see you. Fix the wires and make this your last day.” Raul then trudged away in his massive work boots across the rooftop gravel and disappeared behind a row of glistening HVAC shafts.