The Devil You Know
by Angela
03-04-06
part three
The taxi stopped on a tiny side street in one of the poorer sections of Chinatown, far away from the tourist strip. Ash paid the driver, tipping him heavily to ensure that no one else would find out about this particular fare. The driver again helped him with Griff, then drove off, leaving Ash standing on the sidewalk, supporting his older brother's weight on his own.
"Hey Griff," he said to his barely conscious sibling. "Wanna help me out here? Dr. Morrow said you could stand okay." He got no reaction, but wasn't really surprised. The doctor told him that Griffin was usually unresponsive, that he would go days without acknowledging another human being. The tranquilizer probably just intensified that.
There was no way he was going to get Griff up the five steps to the door by himself. Obviously, he was going to have to summon help. He fished in his pocket for some change. "Hey Meredith!" he yelled, flinging a penny at the window. "Dr. Meredith! Come out here!" Three more coins clattered against the glass. The doctor's angry face peered from behind the curtains and Ash grinned. A moment later, the door opened.
"What is it now?" the doctor asked caustically. He came down the stoop and took Griff's other arm. "Gunshot? Knife?"
"Neither," Ash told him. "Just help me get him inside."
Dr. Meredith did as he was asked, helping support Griffin through the sparse and dingy waiting room and into his back office. Together they eased the man onto a couch. "You're Shorter Wong's friend," Meredith noted as Ash spread Griff's lap blanket over his legs. "This isn't your side of town."
He was right. It must seem strange for Ash to show up suddenly, particularly since his friend Shorter wasn't with him. Dr. Meredith was a gynecologist who specialized in abortions. His business was pretty slow, so he picked up extra cash by patching up the scrapes and wounds of the local gang members. Shorter Wong was second in command of the Chinatown group, and more than once Ash had come with him to get a few stitches or to clear up an infected cut.
"I think we can help each other." Ash was careful to avoid asking for a favor – he wanted this arrangement with Meredith to be a business deal, not something personal that might demand payback. He explained Griffin's condition, giving him the manila file he'd been able to buy from Dr. Morrow for a hundred extra bucks. He even told the doctor that Griff was his brother, hoping to cement the deal with a bit of sympathy and a feeling of trust. As he finished, he pulled out the wad of cash he still had left. It was just over a thousand dollars.
Ash threw it all on the table, unwilling to barter when it came to Griff's care. "There's more than a grand there," he explained, noting the doctor's wide-eyed expression. "That's just for agreeing. If you keep him here, take care of him, I'll give you another two hundred every week."
Meredith flipped through Griff's file. "This man has a very serious condition," he protested, lingering over a few pages. "I'm an abortion doctor, Ash. This is completely out of my area."
Ash brushed his protests away. "I know, but it's not like he can go anywhere. All you have to do is feed him, keep him clean, maybe give him a painkiller or a sedative every once in a while. Keep him safe, alive." He felt desperation rising in his throat. If Meredith said no, he had nowhere else to go. "I know you can use the income."
The doctor took off his glasses, using the hem of his button-down shirt to rub the lenses clean. "And how do I know you're good for the money? You don't exactly look like you've got a steady job."
"I can get it." Ash still had plenty of fancy clothes and jewelry to sell, and when that was gone, he could always find money on the streets. If none of the gangs had work he could do, he knew he could make two hundred a week easily by turning tricks. All he had to figure out was a way to get Dino to let him out on a regular basis. If that didn't work, he'd even stoop to asking his master for an allowance; it'd be humiliating, but Griff was worth it.
"Look," he said seriously. "Griffin is all I've got in the world. I want him to get better, but that wasn't happening in the goddamn nut house they were keeping him in. You're a good guy, or else you wouldn't patch up my friends so well. I think you'll be good to my brother. I'll get you the money, I swear. Every Sunday morning you'll be two hundred dollars richer."
"And if you don't pay?" Meredith was already collecting the bills. "What if you get yourself killed before your brother gets well? What then?"
"Whatever you want. Take him to an institution, throw him out on the street, whatever makes you happy. But I'm telling you now, that won't happen. I'll make sure you get that money every week until I can come in here and take him home myself." Ash took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He thought this would be easier. "Do we have a deal?"
Dr. Meredith nodded. "Sure." He reached across the table to shake Ash's hand. "But I want you to deliver the money in person when you can – I don't think I can cure this man if you're not around to remind him of what he has to come home to."
Now that Ash had seen his brother with his own eyes, proved that he was alive and in need of his help, there would be no keeping him away. He had a million things he needed to tell Griff – even if only the tiniest part of his brain understood, there were things he needed to know. "I'll come any time I can get away," he promised.
Meredith looked like he wanted more information, but he had the good sense not to ask.
---
The snow was coming down in big, thick flakes when Ash left the doctor's office. He glanced up at the sky, experiencing momentary vertigo as the snow swirled down around him. A staggering breath pushed out him; he closed his eyes against a dizzy swell of relief and some other emotion he wasn't sure he could name. Griff was safe. Three little words, yet somehow too much to digest in a single afternoon.
The sun was low in the sky, and Ash remembered his promise to Blanca. Back by nightfall. He didn't have any money left for a cab, not even enough for the subway. He glanced at the door he'd just closed, wondering how Dr. Meredith would react if he begged a few dollars.
"Ash Lynx, were you really planning on coming all the way down here without stopping in to see me?" A lanky Chinese boy in a puffy down vest leaned on a lamppost, arms crossed against the cold.
"Shorter?" Ash was surprised and delighted – he hadn't seen his friend for far too long. He hopped over the railing and grabbed Shorter's shoulder. "How'd you know I was here?"
The older boy laughed. "You think a pretty white boy like you can drive into my neighborhood without anyone noticing? I was just wondering how much longer I'd wait out here for you before breaking down Meredith's door. It's fucking cold, man."
Catching up on all the weeks apart, the pair walked briskly down three blocks to Shorter's family's restaurant. Ash realized that hanging out with Shorter wouldn't help him keep his word to his teacher, but it had been hours since breakfast and it didn't look like he had too many ways lined up to get back to New Jersey anyway. He supposed he could call Blanca after dinner; his teacher wouldn't be too surprised that he ended up in Chinatown, no matter where he took Griff.
The bell over the shop door tinkled brightly as the boys trudged into the busy restaurant. Ash inhaled the scents of kung pao chicken and pepper steak, his stomach growling. "Shorter! It's about time you got here! I had to bus all the tables after lunch – don't think I'm lifting a finger to help you for dinner." Nadia's scolding voice greeted them before they had a chance to close the door. She came out from behind the counter. "Oh, Ash." Her voice instantly dropped to a soothing octave. "I didn't realize you were here. Are you hungry?"
The boys sat down near the kitchen, hoping the heat from the stoves would help thaw them out. "Shorter," Nadia called over her shoulder. "I'm not serving you. Get your tail in here and help me."
Ash laughed at his friend's pained expression as he got up. "You don't know how lucky you are," Shorter joked. "One day I'm running off and leaving this crummy restaurant forever."
His mother, a tiny woman who wore her grey-streaked hair in a low knot, swatted her son as he hopped over the gate that blocked off the kitchen area from the dining. She reprimanded him in speedy Mandarin, gesturing wildly even while holding a tray. Ash watched fondly as his friend apologized, his bold posture folding into submissive bows and nods. Shorter claimed his parents spoke nearly perfect English, but Ash had never heard a word of it.
He liked being here, surrounded by Shorter's family. It was only the four of them, and his father barely spoke at all, but somehow they had all the noise and energy to fill the place; it was almost like the family was large enough that they barely noticed the addition of their son's blond-haired, green-eyed friend. Nadia brought Ash a steaming bowl of won ton soup, winking flirtatiously as she handed him a spoon. Ash blew her a kiss. She was too old for him, obviously, but it was fun to play along. In a year or two she'd probably be married off and he'd never see her again.
Shorter sat down across from him, complaining loudly about the treatment he got whenever he came home. He whipped a pack of cigarettes from inside of his vest. Ash raised his eyebrows. There was no way he'd get away with smoking in front of his family. Shorter shrugged comically and slid the pack back into his pocket. He reached across the Formica table, unwrapping Ash's chopsticks and twirling them between his fingers.
"So where have you been all these months? I asked around, but no one's seen you for ages."
Shorter didn't know about Dino. He didn't know most of Ash's history, about searching for his brother or turning tricks or killing that guy when he was eight. Ash liked it that way – it kind of put them on even ground, one guy to another. Shorter ran with the Chinatown gang, a far more organized pack than most of the others in New York. So far, he was just a nobody, but he was well-liked and had potential to rise in the ranks. Ash wondered what it would be like to have a gang – a group of brothers dedicated to taking care of each other. It sounded almost like family. Since the first time he and Shorter talked about it, Ash secretly vowed to find a gang to run with as soon as he figured out a way to leave Dino.
"Ah, I've been here and there," Ash responded carefully. "Out of the city, mostly. I found someplace to stay in New Jersey."
"They making you go to school?" Shorter asked. He was in the tenth grade at a public high school and he hated every moment of it.
Ash shook his head. He hadn't been to school since third grade. "Nah. But I do have a teacher. He's a real pain in the ass sometimes."
At that moment, as Ash was swallowing another gulp of soup, the front door opened, the bell ringing brightly. Ash glanced up. His face went pale.
Blanca stood in the doorway, looking even more enormous than usual. "Welcome!" Nadia greeted him cheerfully, grabbing a menu.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ash demanded furiously, slamming his bowl onto the table and standing up. His chair fell with a clatter onto the wood floor. Nadia froze in her tracks and the kitchen bustle became suddenly still. "I told you not to follow me, you bastard!"
Blanca didn't flinch at the words Ash hurled at him; he didn't even blink. "I believe it's Monsieur who pays my salary," he said evenly. "Not you."
That hurt. All day they'd been partners in crime, united against Dino and the world; at least, that's what it felt like to Ash. To have him come out and say that Ash was just a job to him, a responsibility that came with the paycheck, seemed like a deliberate jab. "Fuck you, Blanca," he snarled, his voice heavy with emotion. Not even looking back at Shorter or his family, he shoved past his tutor and out into the snow.
He heard Blanca apologize to the Wongs and then the door fell closed. Ash put his head down, jamming his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. He walked faster, his eyes burning.
He'd gone only a few yards when Blanca grabbed him. "Come to the car," his teacher demanded, his grip strong and solid on Ash's arm. "It's too cold for this."
"Fuck you," Ash said again, trying to pull his arm free. He'd been homeless in winter before. He would manage.
Blanca didn't let go. "Now," he said softly. His tone left no room for argument. "You know that if you're not home when Monsieur returns, he will send Marvin or Gregory to find you. Isn't it best to come home with me?"
---
At least Blanca's car was warm. Ash tried not to appreciate the hot air blowing on his hands and feet as he stared straight ahead, unwilling to speak to his teacher. To his surprise, Blanca didn't scold him. He hadn't said a word since they got into the car.
The lights of the city were diffused by the snow, making the streets seem soft and almost welcoming. People were walking home, as usual, bundled against the cold but seeming to enjoy the snow nonetheless. Ash wished he was out there with them, not going to a house that would never be a home. Shorter had it so good; he had a real family and, as if that weren't enough, a crew of guys who looked out for him as though they were his family. All Ash had was a teacher who betrayed him for the sake of his damned job.
"Have you thought about what I said? About retiring?" Blanca said suddenly, a few blocks from Dino's. It was out of the blue, but somehow perfectly appropriate, as though the subject had been between them, lingering since the day before.
Sure Ash had thought about it. He'd spent so much time trying not to think about it that it seemed to seep in around the edges as a constant presence. It felt a whole lot like Blanca was abandoning him, even though he'd known all along that their relationship couldn't have been what he imagined it to be. "Do I look like I give a shit what you do?" Abandonment was a powerful emotion – one he was better off denying.
His teacher didn't flinch, didn't seem to register Ash's words at all. "I've advised Monsieur not to get you a new teacher," he said evenly. "You've been an amazing pupil – I think you'll progress far better on your own than under the supervision of another like me."
Ash was surprised. He didn't think he'd been doing so well. Right away, however, the glow of pleasure faded and changed to bitterness. "So you're done? That's it? Why leave now when the hard work's finished? If you stick around and pretend to teach me, Dino would keep your bank account ridiculously full."
Sighing, Blanca glanced at Ash, then back to the road. "At one time that might have been a decision I would make, but not anymore. I'm tired of it, Ash. I'm not designed for this kind of work. It's like I'm playing a role, like I've been playing it my whole life, and I'm done." He laughed, short and sarcastic. "I've earned more money than I can spend in one lifetime, and honestly, I'd like to live long enough to try."
Ash tried to understand. He really tried. He could tell that this made sense, from a distance, but he was too close. All his life people had walked away from him, first his mother, then Griff, and now Blanca. "Do what you like," he said, gritting his teeth. "It's not like it's any of my business if you want to waste your life drinking fancy margaritas on some beach."
Blanca stared straight ahead, his black leather gloves clamped tightly around the steering wheel. "It's for the best." His voice was different, somehow more real than usual.
Ash felt tears sting his eyes. "Fuck," he cursed, looking the other way so Blanca wouldn't see him cry. "Don't you realize that you're the only person in that goddamn house who treats me like a human being?" His voice pitched high and wild, and it sounded alien even to Ash.
"Then come with me."
At first Ash didn't even know how to respond. He couldn't look at Blanca, not with tears on his face. He almost didn't believe his teacher could mean it, but it was just as unlikely that he'd say anything that insincere. Not trusting himself with his true feelings, Ash laughed. "What – you think you're just gonna walk out with the old bastard's most prized possession?"
Blanca pulled into the Golzine mansion drive. "Why not?" he asked, pressing a button on the dash that opened the wrought iron gates. "Monsieur wanted me to train you because I was the best – who's he going to hire to bring us back? He wouldn't dare come after us; he knows he'd never survive if I put him in my sights."
He parked the car and for a long time the only sound over the hum of the engine was the squeak of the wipers against nearly-dry glass. Ash stared at the falling snow illuminated by the beams of the headlights, aware that Blanca was waiting for a reaction. The trouble was, he didn't have one to give.
Wanting something to be true and really believing it were two distinct things, and Ash wasn't ready to risk his life because he couldn't tell the difference. He glanced at Blanca only briefly, then left the car.
