Until the War is Won
Part I
Headlines and Magazine cover clippings stuck to Damian's mirror-
Fatal Shootout was Drug Related
"Police suspect a drug deal gone awry was the motivation for a shooting that left one man dead and two others injured…." The Port Charles Herald
"Prescription Drug Abuse and Addiction on the Rise," the Sentinel
"The Soul Mate Survey! How Compatible Are You?" Flirt
"DISASTER: Is the World on the Brink? What Can We Do About It?" Newsweek
"Search Continues for Missing Girl," The Port Charles Herald
"UFOs Sighted over Western New York! The Shocking Photographs and Clues to their Alien Agenda!" the National Inquisitor
"As Mercury ascends a friend may need your protection…." Horoscope, the Sentinel
"She Walked Out, How to Get Her Back!" Black Book
"The Biggest and Best New Assault Rifles for 2009: They make it easier than ever to Kill Them All and Let God Sort 'Em Out!" Hail of Bullets
"How Do I know when it's Time to Leave Him?" Relationship, the Magazine
"Your Time Has Come," Fashion Plate
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Damian sat passively in an uncomfortable orange plastic chair. He faced Sonny Corinthos who sat on the other side of a cheap pressed wood desk littered with papers. Sonny was talking into an oversized 'old school' telephone all the while scratching his head through a greasy hair net. Damian waited patiently for Sonny to finish his call, his gaze shifting to the small black and white television set that Sonny kept turned on in the back of his office. Sonny's mumbled end of the conversation slowly receded and was replaced by the sounds of the television.
"Yeah, you know what? I'm thinking we just order a pizza. You know there's a Cubs game on tonight? No, well I dunno I guess I can live with anchovies. So listen, what are you… are you wearing? Yeah I know you're at work, so am I! Just interviewing another kid. What? No of course he can't hear me! So listen, I just wanna know a couple things, ya know, help me through the rest…."
"…ScanItAll works for you! Why pay for a security system that may work only part of the time and is susceptible to human error? Why go through the hassle of surveying your customers or spending countless hours in tedious inventory? ScanItAll does it all! Utilizing the latest in German Engineering and Laser technology secretly developed by the CIA, and thoroughly tested on humans through a volunteer program at a camp in Cuba, ScanItAll keeps track of everything your customers and employees do- when they come and go, what they buy, and even what they steal! Some even say it can read their minds! Ha, Ha! Sorry shoplifter that tin foil hat won't stop ScanItAll! You're BUSTED!"
Security Guard: 'Thanks, ScanItAll!' "Nothing and no one can get one over on the cold, compassionless, yet friendly and helpful laser eye of the ScanItAll system! Call your local ScanItAll representative today! After all, which would you really rather have- outdated and increasingly useless concepts like personal privacy, or total control and a fat bottom line?"
The commercial dialogue dropped in volume and increased in speed as a telephone number flashed across the screen. "In rare cases, some retinal and rectal hemorrhaging may occur with exposure, and the recently deceased may experience brief and violent instances of reanimation."
The commercial faded out to be replaced by a smug looking man in an expensive suit sitting in a plush office surrounded by impressive arrays of leather-bound law books. His hair was dark and thick with smudges of steely gray at the temples. The screen cut to a close up as he revealed perfect, blindingly white teeth in a smile that didn't touch his eyes.
"I'm Mac Scorpio, Attorney at Law. Have you been injured in an accident? Do you need someone to step up and take your side?"
The scene cut to a woman sitting in a hot tub wearing a revealing bikini top.
"I'm Sam, and I was injured in a freak shopping cart collision. The insurance company tried to say that I was faking, those bastards! I made one call, and Mac Scorpio got me total satisfaction! He's like a jackhammer, hammering away at injustice! I got the settlement I was entitled to and even had enough to finally get the breasts I've always wanted!" She laughed playfully and splashed water at the screen. "What, you thought these were real? Thanks Mac Scorpio!"
Now the television screen showed the image of the same man, decked out in fancy athletic wear on a tennis court, half crouched and poised to swing. He expertly whacked a tennis ball directly at the camera. Even on the small black and white screen it was obvious that his arms and legs had a dark and even skin tone indicative of a perfect tan. "You see! Justice got served! Don't get screwed over! My motto is 'everyone gets what they deserve! One call does it…."
"Hey kid, uh Damian, right? Damian Spinelli."
Damian snapped his attention back towards the man behind the messy desk. The phone had been returned to its cradle and Sonny was looking over the three sheets of paper that comprised Damian's work application.
"Yes sir."
Sonny's eyes lazily wandered back and forth from the papers to Damian. He rubbed the side of his face absently. The black hairnet had slipped down in the middle of his forehead, giving him an absurdly exaggerated widow's peak. "Tell ya what, it looks like you got no experience workin' in a grocery store or warehouse whatsoever. Why do you wanna work here, at Sonny's, at my Shop 'n' Save?"
Damian's face was neutral, expressionless. His lank brown hair hung down messily over his unblinking green eyes. His tone was even and his words precise. "I think what I'm looking for is here. Somewhere."
"Really? Uh, I mean I guess that's a good attitude to have. You know, it's good to have motivated employees who want a future with the company…and…stuff." Sonny chuckled softly. "Most people think it's a dead end job, ya know? But hey, that's bullshit. We're all about respect here. Everybody respects me, cause I'm the owner. Everyone has to know which side of their bread is buttered."
He looked at the application in front of him intently as if it might hold some secret, but Damian noticed that his eyes didn't seem to focus on or follow any of the print.
"Course I never really knew what the fuck that means. I like to butter both sides of my bread, ya know? A little garlic salt, toast it on up…."
Damian regarded him with a passive watchfulness.
"You like the girls, Damian?"
Damian leaned back in the horridly orange and uncomfortable plastic chair.
"Cause I got lots of pretty little girls workin' here, but they are to be treated properly. You don't dip your stick in the company oil. Ya got me? I don't need any sexual garnishment accusations, lawsuits and so forth. Okay? Understand?"
Damian didn't really, but more importantly he wasn't much interested either. He decided to continue sitting there, unresponsive.
"Right, ok." Sonny flexed his shoulders and shuffled the papers as if to indicate the matter was settled and he was moving on. "I see you got a little gap in your work history here. What were you dropped out and zoned in… doing the reefer, smoking some wacky tobacky?"
Damian just looked at Sonny, his face as blank as a stone wall.
"Sucking on the ol' bong? Was it 4:20 all day everyday? Maybe you were popping pills, trippin', riding the snake, doing the junkie dance? I bet you were baked, rolled, smoked and toked, huh?"
"No sir. I was in an institution."
Sonny flicked a knuckle under his chin a few times. "You mean rehab? I'm beginning to get a clear picture here now."
"No, I mean an institution."
"Rehab," Sonny continued as if Damian hadn't spoken, "is good. It means you had the guts to admit you had a problem and tried to deal with it. See I know 'cause I've done a few little stints myself. Of course it was for an addiction of a more sexual nature and once there was a plea bargain involved."
Sonny's gaze wandered off, he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. Suddenly he cleared his throat. "What was I saying? Look, I don't judge you for your problems with drugs ok? Just don't do any of that here, in my establishment. This is a family place… did I mention there are lots of young girls… women here?"
Damian scraped at something stuck under his left index fingernail.
"Ok look, I tell you what, you're hired. You can go find Cassius; he's probably in the stock room, though come to think of it I haven't seen him for a while. Anyway, he'll train you and show you the ropes. The other stockers can tell you all about our safety procedures. Safety is, you know, a big deal to us. We've gone two, maybe three weeks without an accident, and I'm proud of that safety record, so let's not fuck that up ok?"
"You can check your hours on the schedule, it's posted up in the break room, or it will be when I get around to making it. I'm a couple of days, weeks behind. Oh and ummm…" he glanced back at the papers, "Damian… you're not gonna bring any banned substances or weapons into the work place right?"
Damian stood. He looked Sonny directly in the eye.
"Only my gun… sir."
Sonny looked back for a long moment and then grinned and chuckled in a way that almost suggested such action was painfully unnatural for him.
"That's… that's funny. That's a good one. I think I'm gonna like you kid!"
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After a lengthy search Damian found Cassius behind the building, leaning against the wall, deep in thought, drawing on a fat joint. Cassius was a good-looking young black man whose clothes were immaculate under his stocker's apron.
After a couple of minutes Cassius noticed Damian standing next to him.
"Rut roh! What's up Shaggy?" Cassius smiled and extended the joint toward the quiet young man. Damian held up a hand to signal "no thanks."
"What, you never watch Scooby Doo? I was just taking a little break and thinking about what kind of world we live in where the Black Ranger on Mighty Morphin Power Rangers is actually a black dude. Were they trying to be ironic, or just stupid? All right, you aren't out here to smoke, so what's goin' on?"
"Sonny hired me."
"He did huh? You like the railroad, Shaggy?"
"It's Damian."
"Maybe the Subway? Cause let me tell you, you have hit the gravy train!"
Stashing the remaining roach, Cassius took Damian back inside to the stock room, where Damian assumed he would begin his training, but after exchanging a couple of jokes with passing stockers, Cassius led him away to a room filled with a couple of tables, vending machines, a discolored refrigerator and a battered microwave.
"This is the most important room here at Sonny's Shop 'n Save, or maybe a close second to the bathroom." Cassius waved his arms expansively and flopped into a chair.
Damian took an educated guess. "The break room?"
"That's the one! Hey check it out, hotness at your six!"
Two blond girls entered the break room talking urgently.
"So I told her she needed to stop shopping at Goodwill, and I know a dog groomer who could do a better job with her hair!" The girls laughed. They walked to the fridge and retrieved a few items. The shorter girl, her hair cut in a fashionable bob, deliberately chose a seat as far from Cassius and Damian as she could manage and opened a small Tupperware container filled with what appeared to be bean sprouts.
The other girl, who sported long flowing blond locks, took a hamburger out of a bag and began warming it up in the microwave.
"And how can she accuse me of trying to steal her man?" the shorter blond continued. "Everyone knows they ended it last week!"
"Hello ladies!" Cassius favored them with a casual wave.
"Hi," replied the taller girl without much enthusiasm.
Bean sprout girl arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and her brilliant blue eyes flashed. "Hello Cassius, is that your new cologne I smell? Ode de Ganja?" She shook her head dismissively and picked at her sprouts in apparent annoyance.
"Lulu, Maxie this is our newest employee, Damian. Damian this is our customer service department aka Lulu and Maxie."
"Excitement!" muttered Maxie under her breath.
LuLu looked over and met Damian's gaze for a moment. He nodded slightly toward the girl. She quickly looked away and retrieved her burger. She took a seat across from the elfin Maxie.
"Customer service is also the complaints department, so if you got something to bitch about, you might just as well put it in your blog or something, cause these girls aren't having any of it." Cassius grinned.
"Very funny Clashus! Could that shirt match the rest of your outfit less?" Maxie rolled her eyes and vengefully stabbed some bean sprouts.
She seemed to suddenly notice Lulu's burger. "Um LuLu, gross! They say you are what you eat. Can anybody say cow?" Maxie uttered a gleeful little laugh at her own joke.
LuLu looked at the burger and bit her lip. Her head sank a little.
Damian took a second look at the girls. They were both young and very attractive. LuLu had a slim appealing build and was not overweight by any definition.
Maxie was almost painfully thin, her sleeves hung loosely on her tiny arms, but she appeared vibrant and her cheeks weren't hollow.
"What does that make someone who eats nothing?" Damian asked quietly.
Cassius's eyes opened wide in shock and a slow grin spread across his face as he looked back and forth between Damian and Maxie.
Maxie's bright blond hair bounced as her head whipped around and she fixed Damian with a look so disdainful that it passed into real hatred for a moment before she collected herself. "Ew! It talks!" She looked back at LuLu, her pale features now set in simple imperious superiority. "LuLu it talked to me."
LuLu tried to change the subject. "Anyway what were we talking about before Maximus Interruptus butted in?"
Maxie eyed her companion skeptically. "LuLu, you can be such a dork!"
LuLu accepted this reprimand silently.
"I don't know what we were talking about now, but between your grease burger and the aroma of the coma I've lost my appetite. I think I'm getting zits just sitting too close to all this junk food. Let's get out of here."
Damian noted that LuLu immediately sprang up and disposed of the offending burger. Maxie didn't wait for her, but with the air of someone who knew she would be followed, stalked out of the break room. LuLu cleaned up Maxie's Tupperware and placed it back in the fridge. She turned and hurried to follow her friend when she bumped lightly into a newcomer entering the room.
The young man blushed and took a step back. He reached out with one hand to steady LuLu, but seemed to think better of the gesture and pulled it back. "Hello, hey, sorry!" He sputtered.
"Yeah, hi, don't worry about it. Probably my fault," LuLu replied while smoothing down her clothes. They both tried to step out of the others way only to block each others path again.
"Oops, um hi!" said the young man again, turning a shade of red that didn't seem humanly possible.
"Oh my god! Hello already!" LuLu pushed past him and left the room.
The young man turned and looked wistfully after the retreating figure.
Cassius was laughing hard with one hand to his stomach. "Ohhh…ouch! Real slick Dillon. I think I might start calling you the Operator!"
Dillon looked down and grinned sheepishly. He ran a hand through his shoulder length unkempt blond hair. "Yeah, right, how may I direct your call?" He laughed a little, still embarrassed. He looked over at Damian. "Hey man, I'm Dillon, um, Ashton." Dillon quickly grabbed a lunch sack from the fridge and an Orange Slice from one of the vending machines. "I'm a price-changer here. You're new?"
Damian nodded. "No one has exactly explained to me yet what it is I do."
Dillon sat and took a snack out of the bag. "Um, well, I'm sure they'll get around to it," he offered vaguely. "So, um, you are welcome in our domain Damian." A shy grin flashed across his angular face.
It occurred to Damian that the kid wasn't bad looking, he just wore rumpled baggy clothes and his hair had never met a comb that it liked. To top it off he was extremely awkward, but now that it was just guys in the room he seemed to relax a little.
"Thanks."
Cassius brushed a few crumbs from his apron and looked at Damian. "Look, you want to know the story of Sonny's Shop 'n Save, this existential, paradoxical hell in which we find ourselves like the souls of ancient Greek heroes wandering Hades aimlessly filling and refilling shelves of canned goods and crappy Chinese products, and you wish to know your place in this sick, sad little universe?"
"Wow that was… poetic!" A few crumbs escaped the side of Dillon's mouth.
"Knowledge is power," Damian offered cryptically.
"Right, I'll take that as a yes. Here's the deal. People in this neighborhood generally aren't rolling in the Benjamins, so every Sunday they get their paper and they clip their little coupons. Then they pack the screaming brats into the minivan or the eco-friendly hybrid SUV, and they roll on down to the Shop 'n Save where they wander the aisles like 'Mid-Life Crisis of the Living Dead' and pick up their little groceries and products, seventy five percent of which they do not need- and half of that is poisoning and killing them slowly as they stumble on their sad little hamster wheel lives. Our job is to make sure that all the crap and shit that they don't need is sitting nice and pretty on the shelves when they get here. We also have to answer about a hundred stupid questions a day like 'uh excuse me person wearin' a giant-ass Shop 'n Save apron, do you work here?' And, 'Hey where's the French Fried Onions?' While they are standing two feet from the three rows of French Fried Onions cans, right on eye level, and right next to an eight foot sign that says 'get your fuckin' French Fried Onions right here with a giant-ass arrow pointed right to the three rows of cans at eye level two feet from them."
Dillon laughed and choked a bit on his snack. He took a swig of Orange Slice that seemed to help.
"Sounds great," Damian intoned with a straight face.
"Oh it is, and all of this is happening with less and less frequency because the folks 'round here, in their never-ending quests for good deals on shit they do not need, have been flocking more and more to Quartermania down the street. The discount store where they like to say everything's a quarter, but everyone knows that's bullshit, you can't sell nothin' for a quarter; but people don't complain because the canned goods and the Chinese crap is still cheaper there than it is here."
Dillon suddenly looked wary. "Hey I should get back to it. Those prices won't change themselves!" He threw away a wrapper and the empty can of soda. "See you guys. It was nice meeting you Damian, if there is ever anything I can do to help you here, just, you know, ask."
Damian's eyes narrowed, as he seemed to think that over. "Right. I'll remember that."
Dillon hesitated a moment, almost as if he wanted to take the offer back, but then he shuffled out of the room.
"Mmm, mm. Boy desperately needs to get laid!" Cassius slapped Damian on the shoulder as he rose from his chair. "Come on Mister Personality, we got things to do."
Damian stood and followed the lanky stocker. "Does my training start now?"
"I'd say it's more like you are about to get schooled. How's your jump shot?"
An image rose in Damian's mind of jumping through the air in a dark building, firing his pistol over and over as shadowy, twisted shapes screamed and went down. "Very accurate, actually."
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"Am I on the clock?" Damian bounced the basketball across the rutted pavement behind Sonny's Shop 'n Save. A pole with a basketball net was a few feet away and there was a chalk outline of half of a basketball court on the asphalt.
"Have you seen a clock around here?" Cassius took off his apron and draped it carefully on the lid of a nearby dumpster. "We've been writing in our time cards for a while now. There is a time-clock, but me and a couple of others make sure that it pretty much stays in a continual non-functioning state!"
"Kinda like you, huh Cassius?" The newcomer's voice had a bit of a southern drawl. He and another young man, both dressed in Shop 'n Save attire approached from an open doorway.
Cassius laughed. "Aw Hayes, hate the game, not the playah!"
"Logan Hayes." The young man introduced himself to Damian with a short confident nod. He had dirty-blond hair worn nearly in a crew cut. He was tall, lean, and athletic; it was obvious he was muscular under his apron and clothes.
"Damian Spinelli." Damian returned the introduction with a slight raise of his chin.
"How sweet!" Logan's companion spat sarcastically. "If you girls are through making nice why don't we play a little two on two?"
Cassius' grin looked a little forced. "I'm okay with that Diego. What do you say Damian?"
Damian regarded the dark haired young man next to Logan, and felt a tightening in his stomach. His instincts were telling him there was something 'off' about Diego. He looked normal enough-wavy hair and a strong chin, well built, but his eyes were cold and the gaze he turned on Cassius and Damian was full of scorn. "I'm in."
Logan looked Damian over, as if sizing him up. His expression seemed to convey that he wasn't too impressed with what he saw. "I don't know, doesn't seem like much of a fair match up. Diego why don't you team with Cassius?"
Diego was shaking his head emphatically. "Fuck fair! This is survival of the fittest, bitches!"
Cassius seemed to agree. "Well, Diego it's obvious you are the fittest bitch out here."
Logan covered his mouth to hide his smile at this comment. He placed his other hand on Diego to restrain him since he seemed to be considering stepping in close to Cassius.
"But it's all right," Cassius continued. "You guys are gonna need all the help you can get to compete with all my fine blackness and the white shadow over here! Damian here was All-State in high school until he tweaked a knee, right Damian?"
"No," Damian answered, but no one seemed to be listening to him.
"Pre-school maybe!" Diego laughed. "Let's do this, and why don't we make things interesting? Whoever loses has to choose one from their team to get on the store intercom and tell LuLu Spencer that you love her."
"Is that it?" Cassius took the ball from Damian and threw it hard into Diego's chest. Diego reacted quickly and caught it with a grunt. "Cause I'll do that right now! That girl's fine!"
Logan tried to get things back into focus. "Come on guys. It's me and Diego, and Cassius and…."
"Damian."
"Yeah. So first to twenty, new guy can shoot for first possession." Diego seemed ready to protest but Logan shot him a look that said, "stow it!" Logan and Diego walked a few feet away and began taking off their aprons and stretching.
Cassius took Damian aside, and the shadow of the basketball goal fell over them. "Ok Damian, Logan is a real good athlete so I'll stay on him and try to trip him up a little. Diego's in good shape, but he's from Portugal or some shit. I think they just play baseball and soccer where he's from."
"What's this got to do with being a stocker?" Damian asked steadily.
"Everything! You let guys walk on you and you won't be at the bottom of the totem pole 'round here, you'll be under it!"
"Cassius, I don't know if it matters, but I don't think I've ever played basketball before," Damian explained in a matter-of-fact tone.
"WHAT! Oh Shaggy, you're killin' me! You don't think? You don't think?"
Damian shook his head. "I don't think so. I remember the rules and the idea, but I'm not sure if I've ever even seen a real game."
"Oh sweet baby Jesus, how do this white boy not know? Shaggy you've got to be the whitest white man I've ever seen. I bet you never danced either, huh?"
"No."
"You see? Lord this boy is whiter than liquid paper!" Cassius threw up his hands in exasperation. "Ok well, we work with what we've got, but we could sure use a miracle. When the game starts you just keep passing the ball to me, understand? Just throw it to me and then run away and maybe Diego will stay on you and that'll open up the lane. Ok this is gonna be ugly, like the Alamo or some shit, but it's too late to back down." Cassius handed Damian the basketball. "Go on. Go back to that line. Throw it at the hoop. Up there with the net." Cassius waved one hand in the direction of the goal.
Damian took the ball and walked over to the line Cassius had indicated. Diego and Logan stopped their preparations to watch. Damian eyed the goal. He hefted the ball in one hand and launched it like a missile in a direct line. It struck the outside rim of the goal with a loud clang and shot away, leaving the rim vibrating for several seconds. Damian's eyes narrowed. "I miscalculated the trajectory," he said softly under his breath.
Logan and Diego exchanged incredulous looks, and then Diego burst out laughing so hard that he almost fell to the pavement. Logan smirked, but his expression became serious as he approached a dejected Cassius who had retrieved the ball. "I think that's ours."
"I know I'm not high enough to deal with this," Cassius muttered.
The game began and Logan, after checking the ball with Cassius, immediately drove to the hoop and executed a perfect lay up while Cassius lagged a step behind. Diego whooped and immediately began trash talking.
On their first possession, Cassius stepped back and fired a three that slashed through the goal with a satisfying swish. Cassisus started to hum and waggled his head. "Mmmm brown sugah! How come you taste soooo gooood!"
Diego got the ball and took Damian to the hole, he sprang into the air and shocked everyone with a vicious dunk that carried through the hoop and bounced off of Damian's head. "Oh no!" He exclaimed in mock concern. "What happened All-State? What happened?"
As they retreated to the backcourt Cassius muttered darkly, "Just my luck, that boy's been drinkin' his Gatorade and eatin' his Wheaties too!"
Diego overheard the last part of Cassius' utterance. "I ate your mom's Wheaties this morning!"
As the game continued Damian calmed his thoughts, and began to systematically call up every memory he could muster concerning basketball rules and strategy. He also carefully observed the other players, their actions and movements. As he had been instructed, Damian made sure that Cassius always had the ball, but it didn't take long for Diego and Logan to figure out that Damian wasn't going to shoot. They began concentrating their efforts on Cassius, who was having a hard time getting off a shot with both opposing players on his heels.
Logan played the game with methodical precision. He was careful with the ball, never leaving it exposed for a steal. When it was advantageous, he passed the ball to Diego. He never took a shot unless he was open or felt he had a good look.
When Diego had the ball, he invariably drove to the basket. His ball handling was sloppy, and he arrogantly tried a lot of fancy dribbling and turned the ball over often. At first he went for spectacular dunks, but he quickly tired and began missing them, sending the ball ricocheting off the rim and out of bounds. He began to settle for short jump shots, but Damian had been studying his opponent and had quick, tireless feet. He stayed in front of his man, not giving Diego a good look at the basket. Diego always took the shot anyway, and this resulted in a lot of misses. Logan and Cassius were left to battle for the rebounds, and they were just about splitting them. After each of his misses Diego would curse bitterly whether his teammate recovered the rebound or not.
The game continued for several minutes and the score was 14 to 5 in favor of Logan and Diego. Cassius called a quick time out and both sets of teammates withdrew to opposite sides of the chalk court.
Logan wiped his brow with the back of a perfectly toned arm even though he wasn't really sweating. "Hey Diego, you know you could pass the ball once in a while when you don't have a look. Cassius is just leaving me and setting up for a rebound cause he knows you won't pass the ball to me even when you're covered."
"We don't need to pass," Diego sneered while he tried to catch his breath. "We're killin' these chumps. And that scrawny fuck couldn't cover me with a blanket!"
Logan frowned but didn't bother to express his obvious disagreement.
"Hey ho, remember the Alamo… Damn Shaggy, I'm getting tired. I used to be able to catch my breath a lot faster." Cassius bent over and rested his wrists on his knees.
"Excessive smoking can lead to diminished lung capacity," Damian commented almost absently.
"Please don't remind me that I could be catching a buzz right now!"
"Cassius, I've been watching, and I think I can score if you pass me the ball. Diego is leaving me wide open."
"Yeah he doesn't believe you can do it so he's committing to the double team every time."
Damian nodded calmly. "I can do it."
"You can? Shaggy?"
"It's simple kinematics."
"It's what?" Cassius rubbed his eyes.
"Physics- displacement, velocity, acceleration… If there are several forces acting on a point, you must find the vector sum of the forces. It is the net force that compels the mass to undergo acceleration. Then there are 'time' versus 'displacement' issues to consider…."
Cassius shook his head as if to ward off a bad dream. "What the fuck?"
"Cassius, they are wearing you down. A new strategy is in order."
Mumbling incoherently under his breath, and with a blank hopeless stare, Cassius straightened and walked back onto the court. The others joined him and Damian noticed that a small crowd had gathered. The two blond girls he had met in the break room earlier had been joined by three other girls, and they were all talking excitedly among themselves while simultaneously trying to appear less interested in the game than they actually were. It was apparent from their prolonged glances and giggling which team they were rooting for.
Dillon Ashton was also watching from a safe distance, shifting his feet uncomfortably whenever the girls would laugh.
A few other employees and even some customers had gathered to watch the slaughter. The back lot bordered a neighborhood street, and as Damian lined up across from Diego to check the ball, he noticed a girl dressed all in black watching intently from the sidewalk. Their eyes met across the distance for an instant, and for that moment Damian forgot the game as his senses elevated to a state of high alert. The girl quickly placed dark sunglasses across her eyes, and the spell was broken.
Damian checked the ball and quickly passed it off to Cassius. Diego immediately headed over for the double-team, and Damian sprinted, unhindered toward the basket. Cassius got off a perfect pass between the two young defenders and the ball bounced on an ideal course to meet Damian two steps from the goal. The ball settled into Damian's hand perfectly in stride, and he lifted it in both hands as he jumped lightly toward the basket.
He could hear Diego cursing as he rose, his body and the ball becoming one in a graceful arc born out by the numerous equations running through his head. He released the ball, already envisioning it's smooth journey off of the backboard and down through the basket and net.
The ball bounced off of the backboard, circled the rim and shot away. Diego raced back and recovered the rebound, laughing as he taunted Damian.
The group of girls cheered Diego. Dillon clenched his fists without realizing it. Unmoving, the girl in black watched from the sidewalk.
Damian hurried to get back on defense as Diego retreated behind the three-point line. He could hear Cassius muttering, "whitest… white…boy…ever!"
Diego glanced at the assembled audience. Logan slipped past Cassius, who seemed flat-footed and out of the game. Diego could pass the ball to Logan for an easy score, but Damian knew that he wasn't going to do that. He knew Diego wanted to show off. 'Know your enemy,' he thought.
Diego began to drive in for the score, and Damian knew exactly where he was going. He had made the same move over and over again in the game already. Damian beat Diego to the spot and set his feet. Instead of passing or pulling up for the shot, Diego lowered his shoulder and smashed into Damian sending him reeling back. Damian tucked himself into a controlled roll and regained his feet in time to see Diego jump up and dunk the ball.
The group of girls erupted into an ecstatic cheer, their pretense of disinterest abandoned.
"Sixteen to five! Oh yeah!" Diego gloated as he walked past Damian without showing the slightest interest in any injury he may have caused with the reckless collision.
"Hold up now," Cassius complained, "that was a charge all the way. Shaggy got there first! That's a foul!"
Diego spat on the pavement. "No blood, no foul. Suck it up Cassius!"
Logan looked distressed. "I didn't see it."
Diego shouted, "It's done, I scored! It is what it is!"
"According to the letter of the rules," Damian stated dispassionately, "A charge is committed when an offensive player illegally contacts a defensive player who has established position or is stationary. It was a charge. But if you two can live with the amendment of 'no blood, no foul,' then so can we."
Cassius groaned, but that seemed to settle the matter.
Damian spoke quietly in a confident tone to Cassius as they walked slowly up the court. "Cassius, I think I have this figured out. We need a turnover. If you can get us one steal, I think I can hit the basket now."
Cassius groaned in disbelief. "Dude, are you crazy?"
Damian's reply was simple. "Yes."
"Damian, it's sixteen to five! Sixteeeeen to five!"
"Cassius, it's the first one to twenty." Damian's cool gaze locked onto his teammates.
Cassius walked over to Logan muttering the whole while. "He's crazy, I'm crazy. We're all crazy. Check."
Logan took the ball in and tried to shake his defender, but Cassius seemed to have caught a second wind and cut him off. Logan looked for Diego and shook his head in annoyance when he saw his teammate with his back to the action, trying to talk with the group of girls.
In that instant Cassius lunged, fully committing his body to a defensive move for the first time in the game. He tipped the ball away from Logan, and it bounced directly over to Damian where he stood behind the three-point line. Damian took a moment to rotate the ball in his hands, and then in one continuous, fluid motion, he shot the ball. A couple of seconds later came the 'chuck' sound as the ball hit the bottom of the net.
"Yes," said Dillon, under his breath.
"Sixteen, eight," Damian said evenly. "Our ball."
The group of girls fell into a shocked silence, and Diego whirled around to see Logan glaring angrily at him. "What? What happened?"
"Thank you Lord!" said Cassius.
The game turned at that point. Logan and Diego couldn't seem to get on the same page and began to bicker. Damian hounded Diego, who still refused to pass, stealing the ball from him again and again. Cassius was suddenly confident and couldn't miss. Damian began hitting lay ups, and he easily blew past Diego who had spent most of his energy on flashy moves early in the game.
Cassius and Damian went on a run while Logan got more and more angry with his teammate who was now sulking. In minutes they had pulled ahead and the score was 18-16. It was game point.
The crowd had grown much larger.
Maxie was checking her text messages. "LuLu I can't follow this game, it's boring. What's going on?"
LuLu sneered while Maxie's attention was on her phone. "I think the pot-head losers are beating the jocks." She hid her smile when Maxie glanced up.
"That can't be right, LuLu. You must have it wrong."
Cassius grinned at a fuming Logan as he dribbled the ball in.
Logan glanced around at the people watching and felt his injured pride swell. "This is ridiculous!" He lunged forward and stole the ball from Cassius, took it behind the line and then drove through both Cassius and Damian who bounced off of him like pinballs. With a snarl, refusing to be denied, he jumped up and put the ball in the basket. "Yes!" He pumped his fist. He grinned as he looked over at the assembled group of girls, but his smile quickly faded when he saw that Maxie wasn't paying any attention to the game.
"It's eighteen all," said LuLu her voice tinged with excitement.
"Mmm, hmmm," droned Maxie as she texted someone.
Logan took the ball behind the line. Cassius and Damian looked at him warily.
"It's my turn to bring the ball in." Diego gestured for Logan to hand the ball over.
Logan relinquished the ball with a sigh and a shake of his head. "For crying out loud, Diego. Friggin' pass the ball this time if you don't have a good look!"
"Logan, I don't owe you shit. I've carried your sorry ass for this whole game, so go bitch to someone who cares." Any charm Diego had possessed was long gone. His eyes darted wildly. Sweat had drenched through his clothes and left his hair a limp tangled mass framing the flushed skin of his face.
Logan actually laughed as he walked over to the side of the court and folded his arms. "All right then. Bring it on home stud! I'll just stay out of your way. I wouldn't want to drag you down."
Diego ran onto the court, dribbling toward his favorite spot. Cassius made a dive for the ball but missed and crashed to the pavement. Diego pressed on and Damian was waiting for him. Again, instead of pulling up for the shot Diego lowered his shoulder to brutally knock Damian out of the way, but this time there was no feeling of impact. Damian Spinelli seemed to melt in front of him, and without the resistance he had expected to encounter Diego lost all sense of balance. He felt hands and limbs against him, directing his motion, using his strength and momentum against him. He sailed through the air and collided violently with the ground. All the breath was knocked out of him. He turned his head as he struggled to find air, and could only watch as Damian walked over to the basketball, picked it up and almost casually banked it off of the backboard and into the basket.
"Twenty, eighteen," Damian's soft voice was heard by everyone in the stunned silence of the lot. "Good game."
Cassius began to laugh as he rolled on the asphalt.
Dillon hopped up and down clapping, until he realized people might notice him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiling, disappeared back into the building.
Maxie shut her cell phone. "This isn't any fun," she declared and promptly turned on her heel and stalked into Sonny's Shop 'n Save. Most of the girls followed her. For once LuLu lagged behind, her eyes on the new employee who stood motionless, his face an expressionless mask. 'What did he just do?'
Logan walked over and helped Cassius up. "Good game."
Damian turned and looked at the distant sidewalk, but it was now empty. The girl in black was gone.
Diego struggled to his feet as the crowd began to disperse. "Wait, that was a take down! That was a foul! A foul!"
"I didn't see it," said Logan with a smirk.
Cassius looked Diego over. "No blood, no foul."
"But it was a foul!" Diego whined as he stretched his hands out looking for an ally. "Logan?"
"Go bitch to someone who cares," Logan said as he left the chalk and asphalt court. Cassius followed him, chuckling.
Diego turned to Damian, his eyes barely containing a smoldering hate. "That wasn't basketball. That was a fucking take down!"
Damian stepped in close to Diego and matched his fiery glare with green eyes that had suddenly gone as cold as ice. "It is what it is," he said quietly.
Diego looked down, turned and stormed away.
Inside Cassius tied the back of Logan's apron. "Back to work huh?" Logan asked.
"Yeah right." Cassius tone belied his words. "What'd you think of the new guy, Texas?"
"Who, uh Derek?" Logan was running a comb through his short hair.
"Damian," Cassius corrected him, snickering.
"Yeah, whatever. He got in a couple of good shots. I don't know, he seems harmless enough."
.
.
.
Two AM, Somewhere across town.
The sign outside the building read, 'Trevor's Garage- Home of the Last Honest Mechanic.'
Johnny liked blow torches. The unfortunate man in the mechanics jumpsuit didn't seem to care much for the one Johnny was holding way too close to his face for safety regulations. The fact that Johnny had the man pinned against a hydraulic lift meant that there was little he could do to express his dislike of their current arrangement, except sweat and beg. He had been doing both in prodigious amounts for the last few minutes, but Johnny remained unmoved.
"Ok it's time to cut the shit Trevor! I talked to some people who were there at the shooting last week. You know the one where some low life dealers got aced. They tell me that two of your employees were seen double timing it out of there as the bullets were flying. Now I come to your garage and find you and the same boys putting in an all nighter on some junkers."
He pressed down with his elbow into the man's windpipe to make sure he had his full attention. Trevor's couldn't tear his gaze from the blue flame dancing in front of his face. "You're using this garage as part of a drug operation Trev." It wasn't a question.
"Johnny! Drugs? What?" Trevor managed to half speak, half gurgle. A curl of smoke wafted up from his hair.
"Don't you deny it! Don't you fuckin' deny it!" Johnny pressed in on the man all the harder. "My father's money kept this garage going when you were ready to give up and close the doors, and this is how you repay him? He would shit his sick bed if he knew you were using this place to bring drugs into the neighborhood he loves!"
"Johnny please!" Trevor wailed. In desperation he had caught a breath from somewhere. "My 401k took a dump this last year. An old man's got to put some coin aside from somewhere to see to his family!"
"Fuck you, and fuck your family!" Johnny snarled. "You PIECE of SHIT!" In his rage he brought the blow torch closer to Trevor's face. A low mewling sound emanated from the pinned man.
Two men in mechanics coveralls ran into the garage and stopped cold when they saw the tableau before them.
"Johnny for crissakes, calm down!" One of them called.
Johnny didn't spare them a glance. "Mind your fucking business!"
"Hey! We're calling the cops if you don't let him go!" The other newcomer yelled.
"Call 'em!" Johnny laughed maniacally. "I'm sure they'd love to hear this sob story!" Johnny collected himself and pulled the torch back several inches. Trevor sighed in relief, and pooled sweat blew from between his lips.
"Listen up Trev. Here's the deal, and it's the only one you get from me. My friend's gone missing. I need to find him, and I don't have time to fuck around with this shit. Now he left behind all this stuff, newspaper clippings, notes, about that shooting last week. The one your boys here were involved in. You assholes know the one," he called over his shoulder. "It's like he was obsessed, or maybe he witnessed something that fucked him up. Was he there? Is Damian hiding from your guys? Is he running for his life because he saw something? You tell me what I need to know, and I'll forget all about your garage and your bullshit operation, just like it doesn't exist." Johnny began to inch the torch closer again, and Trevor squirmed helplessly. "What happened? Where's Damian? I swear to God, if you've done anything to him!"
"He was there," one of the men called out.
"What?" Johnny froze. Trevor could only gape at the torch poised over his face and wait.
The two mechanics exchanged glances and one shrugged. "Your roommate was there, but he didn't witness shit. More like perpetrated. He was the shooter, Johnny."
Johnny felt a rush of cold spread from his gut and through his limbs. It felt like the world wrenched on its axis under his feet. "Bullshit!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth. "Damian's got a heart, he wouldn't hurt nobody! If you're lying to me…."
"He's not lying," the second mechanic chimed in. "And your friend wasn't out to hurt anyone, he was shooting to kill. He didn't try to jack product or cash. He was there for blood. The dude is crazy!"
"He's not crazy," Johnny growled.
"It was like he declared war on our operation, and he wasn't taking prisoners," the first mechanic added. "We don't know where he is now Johnny, but he started this. If we see him again…."
Johnny leaned back and Trevor slumped down from the lift. He grabbed the older man's coveralls with one hand and flung him in the direction of his two lackeys. They ran to Trevor's side, but choking and gasping, he shoved them away angrily. "You useless motherfuckers! Now you help?"
Johnny took the torch and walked over next to a pallet loaded down with canisters of compressed air. He grabbed some greasy rags and a batch of papers from a nearby bench and threw them onto the pallet. He then casually tossed the lit blow torch onto the pile. The rags and papers immediately burst into flames and began to burn down onto the canisters.
"Johnny!" Trevor struggled to his feet. He looked even more stunned and alarmed than he had earlier. "You promised! You said you'd forget all about my operation!"
Johnny turned and looked at Trevor as the flames shot several feet into the air behind him. He smiled. "Just like it didn't exist… and now it won't." He nodded in the direction of the door behind Trevor. "Your boys have the right idea. Better run Trev."
Trevor whirled and saw that his minions had already fled. He didn't need any more prompting- arms and legs pumping, he hightailed it out of there, Johnny's laughter dogging his heels.
Johnny turned back to the greedy flames and he spread his arms as if to embrace the fire. 'So much heat. Why do I feel so cold?'
The flames spread to the ceiling, to the nearby workbenches; they arced and danced like demons at play. They licked the sign on the wall- WARNING contents HIGHLY FLAMMABLE DANGER! Johnny knew that hidden somewhere in the garage and in the panels of the various cars were drugs- cocaine, heroin, amphetamines; it hardly mattered. They were materials just as dangerous, just as deadly, but they didn't come with a warning sign. They would burn just like the rest.
"What have you gotten yourself into, D?" Johnny began to back toward an exit, but he hesitated, entranced by the sight of the spreading conflagration. Smoke billowed everywhere, making it hard to see, hard to breathe. "Are you at war, Damian? Then I guess we're at war. I'm in, whether you wanted it that way or not. I promised Miriam that I would protect you. That's what I'm gonna do. No matter what. Don't worry D, I'm gonna find you."
Trevor's Garage, the home of the last honest mechanic, made an impressive fireball as it hurled the last burning pieces of its life high into the morning air.