Part Two
It's a long walk to the shop, all right, but it gives us plenty of time to settle ourselves down and not look too suspicious by all these so-called 'well to do' lewdies. By this hour, there's got to be hundreds of 'em walking around for the morning, most off to their jobs but a handful like us off for a little shopping.
I can't help but glare right back at all the scumbags who don't think twice about frowning at our pockmarked faces and ragged clothes. The brat doesn't notice any of this just yet, but I know they're doing it because the fucking State-run media tells 'em to. Probably hard for 'em not to ignore all these messages they stick in the programs and the newspapers and everywhere else, there's so much of it. Still, doesn't make it any less painful.
'A spotless appearance equals a spotless conscience.'
'Dress well, do well.'
'You are what you wear.'
Fine words, even though it's just a bunch of bullshit. If there's anybody not to be trusted, it's those sods. After all, they're the ones who can make up their rasoodocks one way or another about reporting you to the rozz-shop. Don't tell me to lick their shoes. Don't you dare.
Anyway...
Some time later, we've reached the part of the city where most lewdies seek out old Ivanov by name. Most of the time, his clients are the same pack of Russians that followed him over most of Europe and across the Channel. Not today, though. Today, he'll have no problems dealing with a gent from the old neighborhood, just as long as his memory hasn't been torn to bits by that big family of his. As long as he still understands that we used to share the same fire escape, everything else should be just fine by me.
It's Billy-boy's first kill today, so of course, he gets to be the one to knock a few times on the door to get that butcher's attention. It's barely a minoota later when I see that half-swollen litso like turning the corner to peer out at us both.
"Eto vash syn?"
"Not mine, boyo," I tell him, laughing just a little. "I got that chance taken away from me after the war, remember? One of my sluts brought this bastard into the world, believe me."
I can tell old Ivanov's a bit curious about the brat, but of course, he doesn't say it out loud. Instead, he just moves aside and pulls the door wide open so we can both find a way in.
"Nothin' like a good back room deal to help you get things done," I say out loud, like making myself heard over the whirr of the meat grinders and the slicers and everything else this shop puts to use. Billyboy doesn't say much to answer me, because he's too busy watching the usual beef and hams get sliced up one piece after another. He'll come to learn this nice and clear eventually, though. Sooner or later, all the malchicks of the East End have to learn.
"This way, please."
We leave that neat and tidy shop floor behind us, and then it's off to the back room itself, a bit more dingy than the other place but still just as disinfected. It's not the paint peeling off the walls or the musty smell in the air that any of us need to worry about. Instead, the spotless preparation table and the grinder right beside it soon draws our attention away from everything else.
"Now, if you'd be so nice, boy, just...leave your catch over in the corner sink there. Khorosho."
The little bastard might have mouthed off to me once or twice, but he knows not to go doing the same to old Ivanov. Not when it's rumored he's got a boy of his own hiding around the shop, and one that just might agree to a game of checkers sometime.
"D'you really have to wash it first...?" he whines, staring down at the bloody mess with something like hunger roaming around in his glazzies.
"I do if nobody wants to get sick off of what they eat," Ivanov answers, turning on the taps and pouring on a little Safe-Soap. "Nothing personal, boy."
Billyboy just nods and watches in return, although I'm more than just a little bit sure he's staring at the blood going down the drain with a sort of sick fascination. I ought to know all about that, all right, because I know I also had to go through the same thing when I was young.
A/N: ...I might have hemmed and hawed about this for months, but I'm glad to have finished this installment in fifteen minutes. There's just one more installment to go as of this moment, so...I hope you all will leave me some feedback, and then stay tuned for when the end comes. Thank you and goodnight.