Chapter 5
Salone Valonte
"I told you, I am not good vith cooking! You do not shoot sings vith a spoon! You stir them! I am a shooter, not a stir-er!"
Alex was definitely right about that. This was the first time I had ever had soup worthy of a fork's attention. If I hadn't been here to watch him make it, I'd thought he was trying to poison me. Didn't they have Home Economics in Russia? I had never had anything like it before. The bits of carrots were burnt. How do you burn carrots in soup without setting the soup on fire?
Nikole wasn't having a good time either. She had on a brave face, but I could tell she didn't like it. And as much as she talked, that's about all I could tell from her. She swallowed a bit of charred beef down before trying to say something in a hoarse voice.
"On second thought...I'll cook next time."
I blinked. She was offering to cook? That was...odd, to say the least. I clearly remembered her saying she wouldn't. Or maybe, she was going to poison us? Nah, that couldn't be it. Maybe it was a joke, and she couldn't cook either...yeah, I bet that was it. It'll be so horrible, we'd have to eat Alex's crap. I looked over to him. Clearly, he was not enjoying the attention his chef skills were getting. He tossed the pan he was using for a soup bowl across the floor, getting up and picking up his gun as he walked out the double set of doors.
Nikole gave me a stare. It couldn't have been anything I said...all I did was choke. I returned her look, shrugging.
"Whaaat? What do you want me to do? He can't cook, means he can't cook."
She let out one of those exasperated sighs. You know, for a female, she was extremely ornery. Maybe she was one of those freaky people that loved hurting others? Or at least being mean to them. Yeah, that sounded about right. But so far, she hadn't done anything except shot down Alex's soup. And from the look she was gving me, she wanted me to do something about it. I tried not to groan as she opened her mouth.
"Salone, you're an idiot. I can tell you don't like him. Something about his country, isn't it? Something about him being Russian?. And you know what? You're an ass for being like that. Other than being a bit slow, he's not that bad. You should go out there and apologize, and stop being such a racist prick."
I reeled my head back. Holy...maybe it was better if she didn't talk at all.
"Holy shit, since when do you say over five words an hour?"
"Salone?"
"Yes Nikole?"
"Don't make me shoot you."
I rolled my eyes as I got up. It was girls like Nikole that made guys turn gay. Er...not that I was gay or anything. I looked out the double-door windows before moving them. Alex was outside, that machine gun perched over his shoulder. By the angle of his head, it looked like he was looking up at the moon. I quietly opened the door, walking the short distance to stand a bit beside him.
"Hey, Listen, um...look...I uh...I wanted to apologize for me being an ass man...I guess I shouldn't be, with everything like it is."
He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye before looking back up.
"In Russia, things are a lot 'arder than they are here. Eet ez a deemocracy now, but still a very poor country. Not only vas my family on ze poorer end of the spectrum, but my fathyer vas an eediot, and made the mistake of borrowing money from a local mafia setup. My entire family had to vork day and night to even hope of paying eet off. When I was five, my parents had opened a gunsmith and gun shop. Almost my entire life worked there, keeping the place going. Ze Mafia vas never satisfied vith what ve could provide them. though. Zey started keeling people. A deeferent one every veek. For years, ve had to go into hiding. Finally, about a year back, I could not take it anymore. I escaped ze country, and took a boat here. I came here to escape my problems. I came here for freedom. But you Americans, you have none! You do not care about anyvone or anysing. Eet disgosts me. I came here to get away from my country's problems...but now it seems that this one has it's own set..."
Hearing all that had made me feel bad. The guy wasn't bad I guess...just rough on the edges. I'd be the same way too if I owed some slimey bastard money who killed my family. I looked over at Alex. His gaze was now directed at the ground. I felt like I should say something...but I didn't know what. I let my brain pick the first thing that came to mind.
"Hey, Listen, um...about the soup though...it really wasn't all that bad."
He gave me another side glance.
"Salone?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't make me shoot you."