- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 10: We Meet Again…AND Again!
"Hmmmph…" Mercedes chuckled. "Same old Tommy. I wasn't really expecting the welcome wagon anyway." She said, reaching into the pocket of her loose-fitted jeans to take out a carton of cigarettes and a plastic lighter. She removed one from the pack using her bright acrylic nails and placed it on her full lips. Lighting it with the lighter, she placed the two items back into her pocket. Of course, not even offering to share.
"Should you be smoking those?" Tommy asked with a sneer. "It could be fatal to the fetus…Unless you wanna kill another one before it's born."
Mercedes sighed heavily and took a small drag from her cigarette. Never bothering to turn away from Tommy to blow the smoke from her mouth, the last precious clouds of the drag hit him in the face.
"I didn't want to do that you know…" she said "Besides, I'm sure your new girlfriend could give you a slew of hijos if you'd let her." Tommy's facial expression changed.
"Girlfriend?"
Mercedes reached into her other pocket and took out a handful of Polaroid photos. She handed them to Tommy and stood with her hands on her hips as he flipped through the pictures. Tommy was astounded. Not only were the pictures in high-definition with zoom, but they were as expected, pictures of him and Moda together. Pictures of them when they went shopping, golfing, collecting money, even the incident at the Cherry Popper Ice Cream factory with the Haitians.
"W-what the hell! Are you stalking me!" Tommy shouted, slamming the photos on the concrete sidewalk below them.
" 'Stalking' is a term so strong…" she stated using incorrect grammar "I prefer…'watching from a distance'. After all, you said to stay far…not admire fromafar," she smirked, taking another drag on her tobacco stick.
"But WHY?"
"Because I still love you Thomas." She said, emphasizing her Spanish accent on his name as she knew he liked it. "I just don't love what you are doing right now."
"Well, be that as it may…She ain't my girlfriend." Tommy said, turning away.
"Okay then who the hell is she!" Mercedes asked, raising her voice.
"That's none of your Goddamn business!" he snapped back at her.
"Oh, when some tall, baby-faced, stick-figured, wide-hip, stuck-in-adolescence puta tries to move in on the love of my life, it is my fucking business!" Mercedes snapped back.
"That tall, stuck-in-adolescence bitch is my daughter!" Tommy blurted loud enough to scare away nearby seagulls. Mercedes' eyes widened and she gasped, dropping her half-finished cigarette on the ground.
"Yeah…Is THAT what you wanted to know! You wanted to know how she became an orphan from a fucking plane crash and how I adopted her so she wouldn't become some whore on the street or some damn…junkie in the alley doin' blow! Is that what you wanted to hear! HUH!"
Mercedes looked away in shame…Trying to think of something to say to excuse her actions.
"For your information, she's not even sixteen yet. She's been with me for almost a month now and I even got the papers. And you know what, she's happy and I'm happy, especially since now that she's what I've wanted all along. She's the one thing I've wanted in this entire world and when you had the opportunity to give it to me and complete my world, you threw it away without giving a rat's ass about me!" he shouted even louder, his voice almost about to crack.
"I said I wasn't ready!" Mercedes shouted back, tears streaming down her face.
"Well who in the fuck needs you! I've got money, I've even got the spare time! Don't you understand, not once did I object to you having a kid!"
"I-I'm sorry…" Mercedes sobbed softly, hanging her head down. "I had…no idea…All I wanted was to make you happy. I wanted the child too but I was afraid that if I were to keep it that you'd leave me. I figured that the last thing that the king of Vice City would need is some…offspring to get in the way of things."
Tommy paused, drinking in every word pouring from his ex-mistress.
"Could…could we make this right again? I could help you raise your new daughter…"
"I don't think so." Tommy spat. "Besides, she's almost sixteen…you're about ten years too late."
"But I want us to grow again. And what better way to grow than with a family?"
"Me an' the kid are enough family." He said, turning back towards the golf course, ready to hijack the Comet waiting in front of the entrance.
"Wait!" she shouted after him, reaching into her shirt and taking out a small, folded piece of paper. "At least take my number…" She said, gently placing the paper in the palm of his hand and folding it.
Tommy exhaled heavily and reluctantly placed the paper in his pants pocket. He and Mercedes parted their ways down opposite paths on the bridge.
- - - - - - - - - -
Meanwhile…At the Little Haiti Laundromat!
"Wow…" Kyra said as she looked at Moda.
"'Wow' what?" Moda asked.
"I like yo hair…and yo shoes, and yo clothes." She replied slowly. Wow, she is so beautiful… She thought to herself.
"Um…thanks!" Moda smiled sweetly. Wonder why she doesn't have such a strong French accent like the others…Moda thought. "Is there a grocery store or something nearby where I can get some change?" she asked.
"Uh-uh…" Kyra shook her head. "But I do got some extra quarters in my pocket." She said, retrieving the said quarters from her pocket.
"Oh, thank you so much!" Moda smiled, showing her teeth. She dumped her bags of clothes onto a large table and began to sort through the colors and the whites. Kyra too dumped her clothes on the table across from her, also separating her laundry. After several minutes of silence, Kyra looked up at Moda and said:
"Coco?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you…a supermodel or somethin'?" she asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
"Actually, no I'm not…" Moda chuckled out of flattery. "Why do you ask?"
"Because you really tall, you skinny and you really pretty!" the child said rapidly.
"Oh…Thank you…But no, I'm not a model."
"Well, you should be!" Kyra smiled, her ears tingling from the sensation of hearing Moda's proper speech. Once again there was silence.
Kyra continued to admire Moda's being and was starting to admire her load…Of clothes that is. As Moda folded, and sorted through her clothes, the small child couldn't help but gaze upon the chic and trendy designer gear that Moda had. From the dress she wore to the Malibu to the more punky mini-skirt outfit she wore on her day out. She also couldn't help but wonder, who exactly was she, why hadn't she seen her before, and how was a Haitian from this area able to afford such pretty clothes.
- - - - - - -
After the two had finished their laundry, Kyra offered to help Moda stash her clothes into her Blista Compact. She was shocked to see that the speedy little car had no scratches, dents, or cracked glass. It was truly a car fit for such a princess.
"Well, thank you so much for the quarters, the company and the help Kyra." Moda said as she got into the car and started up the engine. She looked out the window to see a very sad Kyra waving goodbye to her. This sparked a little bit of pity and guilt inside Moda's heart.
"You know what? Since you've been so nice to me, you wanna go grab somethin' to eat?"
Kyra nodded her head and hopped into the car, stashing her bag of laundry in the back seat.
"But first, I need to drop my laundry off at home." She said. Moda shrugged her shoulders and listened to directions given by the child to her home.
- - - - - - - -
"This is it, right here." Kyra said. She instantly jumped out the car before Moda parked it across the street, grabbed her back and literally threw it to the door of her shack of a house. She ran back to the car but was called to a screeching halt by a deep, Haitian voice.
"Wher'ya tink ya goin' girl?" said the rather handsome male standing in the doorway, wearing a ragged lavender Haitian gang shirt.
"I'm going with my friend to get sump'in to eat. I finished the laundry like you said." Kyra muttered with her head hanging down.
"Don' lie girl, you know yo ugly ass ain't got no friends." Snapped the man.
"There she go! In the car!" Kyra shouted, pointing at the car in the driveway where Moda was sitting, biting her fingernails in boredom. Kyra ran to the car and asked Moda to come out just so she could verify her story. She came back across the street with Moda in hand and presented her in front of her brooding relative.
"This is my new friend. Her name is Coco." Kyra declared proudly.
Moda, being nervous in front of the muscular Haitian male, only gave a soft wave and a smile.
"Damn. I guess you told me, huh." He said then sneered at Kyra. "Just don't be out too late or you know what's gon' happen." He said. The two turned away to walk back to the car.
"Wait, wait bay-bee girl…" he cooed to Moda. "How come I ne'er seen your pretty self around here?"
"Oh…I…um…" Moda stammered "I…just moved here."
"Well I hope to see more of such a sight." He said seductively, licking his lips. To Moda's surprise, it turned her on and she felt a sensation of chills going down her spine.
"Yeah..um…maybe. Don't worry, I'll have her back in time." She said and quickly walked back to her car.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Tommy's P.O.V.
Tommy did as was promised in the last chapter and hijacked the banana-yellow Comet waiting in front of the golf course entrance as scheduled. He turned the station to Espantoso because a sappy love or rock song was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. He was thinking about maybe going to get a drink but instead decided to head straight home.
Outside the house, he stepped out the car and slammed the door, cracking the passenger window. He wanted so much to relieve stress but rocket launcher ammo was not cheap.
- - - - - - - - - -
Claude's P.O.V.
Claude was in the kitchen eating the last of the peanut butter and jelly and nearly jumped upon hearing a car door slam. He thought about the chance of it being Moda but decided not to take it should he have been wrong. He scrambled to the lobby but saw a hairy, Caucasian arm reach through the door so he ran back into the kitchen.
Panicking and searching for an effective place to hide, Claude used his short stature to possibly one of his biggest advantages. He opened the cabinet of the breakfast bar, praying it was empty and climbed inside.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! He cursed to himself as he heard heavy footsteps parading around the lobby. If I get caught I'm swear I'm gonna put Ben-Gay in her underwear drawer…
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Moda's P.O.V.
"So, where do you wanna eat?" Moda asked Kyra who surprisingly was quiet.
"How about the pizza place around the corner?" she replied.
"Nah…You know what, we're gonna go downtown and eat!"
The child's eyes lit up and she squealed with joy.
"Ooh! I've never been downtown before!" she exclaimed. Moda smiled at the excited child as she stayed glued to the passenger window, examining the beautiful early-evening landscape of Downtown Vice City. Beautiful women srutting the streets in their business suits, bright neon-lit signs of Taverns and nightclubs, the sharply-dressed drug dealers that stood at every other corner, the breathtaking-yet-completely-psycho Love Fist groupies. It was almost too much for Kyra to take in at one time.
"So…who was that?" Moda asked, referring to the Haitian that just tried to hit on her.
"Huh? Oh…he my brother. My step-brother kinda." She replied, never looking away from the window.
"Step-brother?"
"Um…Yeah, I'm adopted."
So that's why she's not as dark or ghetto-Frenchy like the other Haitians.
"Really? Coulda fooled me…" Moda lied.
"Too bad I can't fool everyone else." Kyra said, turning away from the window to stare ahead through the windshield. "Look at me, the other Haitians have that smooth, dark skin. Mine got pimples and scars all over. My eyes ain't light-brown like most of the Haitians, they ain't even got no color…"
Moda turned down the volume of the radio so she can fully hear the child.
"I hate the way I look…I'm fat, I'm ashy and…I'm…ugly!" she said, bursting into tears almost. "That's why I have no friends. Nobody wants to be friends with somebody fat like me."
"Don't say that!" Moda exclaimed, showing sympathy.
"You jus' sayin' that cuz you don't understand. Cuz you pretty, skinny and you got nice skin and hair. You prolly got lotsa friends and boys after you..."
At this point, Moda burst out into laughter. Tears fell from Kyra's face as she stared at Moda questionably with wide, wet eyes, sniffing periodically.
"I-I'm not...laughing...at you..." Moda said, gasping between laughs and speech. "Girl, please. Do you have ANY idea what I went through back in the day?" she asked. Kyra shook her head.
"People used to call me 'Lollipop', 'Balloon-Girl', 'ET'...They always called me that because I was really skinny with a huge head."
Kyra frowned, huffed and sat even lower in her seat. Wow...you really WERE tormented...She thought sarcastically.
"The point is, that...no matter how tall, short, ugly, pretty, thin or pleasantly plump you or anyone else will be, there will ALWAYS be someone who will talk shit about you." She spoke and smiled. Kyra looked up at her, smiled and wiped her tears away.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Hey kid!" Tommy shouted, flicking on the lights in the kitchen. "You in here?" he asked again. Tommy leaned on the breakfast bar where Claude was hiding under. Claude underneath was sweating and getting claustrophobic, making it harder for him to intake oxygen into his tiny lungs. This resulted in a raspy breathing, which was easily heard amongst the background of the kitchen's resounding silence.
"...The hell?" Tommy asked, slowly walking around the kitchen. His ears perked as he heard Claude's raspy and distressed breathing. Approaching the breakfast bar and kneeling down to open the very same cabinet containing the pocket-sized youth, he was startled by the harsh ringing of his cell phone. He jumped up and hit himself on the top of his head.
"Arrgh! Gotdamnit to fucking hell! Shit!" he yelped, rubbing the crown of his head. While in pain, the cell phone's ringing had ceased and Tommy had missed the call. Jesus Christ! Oh…Where is that kid! It's almost nighttime…
- - - - - - - - - -
"Coco, I wanna know more about you." Kyra asked, stuffing her face at a downtown taco restaurant. Moda nearly choked on her taco.
"Well…um…that is to say…"
"Do you got a family? Any bruthas or sistas?" she inquired
"Well, I do have a…brother…" Moda lied, then instantly remembered something important. Claude! She thought, almost having a panic attack. Tommy's probably back already and is most likely holding him hostage! I gotta get the hell outta here! "You know what…It is starting to get like, real late and I promised your brother I'd have you in before dark."
Kyra looked out the window next to her and saw the sun, barely touching the water. She then turned to a clock hanging on the wall. "It's only 7:00…" she said nonchalantly.
"Yeah, and then there are things I need to do…Y'know." Moda said, jumping up and hurriedly clearing the table they were sitting at.
"But wait, can I finish eating?"
"Take it with you, c'mon we need to go." Moda said firmly so that the child would get her point and stop asking questions.
- - - - - - - - - -
Ah-ha! The plot thickens! I'm sure that the MercedesXTommy discussion didn't make too much sense but hey, I never was that good at writing serious, climatical plotlines! Oh yeah and to those requesting to hear more Tommy in the story, I'm working on it…working on it…