She Waits....by Kay Reynolds Published in Horrors! 365 Scary Stories
I was running up Plume Street with Manolito Wu leaving a trail of broken glass and petals. Raiding florists is not my idea of a fun midnight excursion but when a guy like Mano enlists your aid, you change your plans. Mano's awfully good with knives, you see, and very persuasive. We piled into the car. I floored it and Mano said: "Have another drink. You're looking mighty white." No joke. I am not keen on graveyards, day or night. Mostly, I don't think about them at all. But Carcosa Hills is all Manolito Wu cares about. That and Lela. That's our destination – Lela Butler's grave. I swallow another drink. And another. We pile out deep inside the cemetery, back in the section reserved for charity cases. Next we unload our floral heist and tromp over to Lela's marker. There's still a lot of stuff strewn over the ground which strikes me as odd. Especially when I see what it is – garlic braids and wild roses. Mano's been here before. Manolito does most of the work. Afterwards, he just stands there. I wanted to say something but can only come up with, "It looks nice." Mano stays quiet. So I follow up with,"Lela liked flowers, did she?" "Lela liked me," Mano says. "She was my family." I nod like I understand but that's not true. The gene pool that makes up Manolito Wu and the one that went into Lela Butler were oceans apart and on different planets. "We were both wards of the state," he said. "Both raised in foster homes. Do you know what that's like?" No. I don't. All I can do is shake my head. "Nobody wanted us." There's no bitterness in his voice, only an acceptance which chills me through. I thought about what I'd heard ... dangerous games about how the two hustled together. One would bait the fish while the other waited. Instant shark attack. Usually, nobody got seriously hurt. Mano and Lela were after money, not blood. Then one night, they picked the wrong mark – or, more likely, the mark picked them, set them up. When it was done, Lela was dead and Mano was messed up. Bad. When she was buried, he was still in the hospital. The cops are still clueless. It was less embarrassing to let Mano go. Ankle deep in garlic and roses, Mano said: "I knew he was wrong. When it went bad, I couldn't stop him. He messed me up, Bracey. Then he hurt her. And I had to watch." I started to say, "I'm sorry," but we weren't alone any longer. A tall gent had strolled up on us, very well dressed, handsome in a GQ kind of way. He smelled like old money and something else.... I was thinking that, if we're not supposed to be here this late, then neither is he ... except he looks like he belongs. "You simpleton," GQ says. He kicks at the garlic with the toe of an immaculate boot. "Do you really think this will stop me? That it will stop her?" "I don't care about stopping her," Mano says back. "All I want is to stop you." He's so fast. Something flashes from his hand and hits the guy's chest dead on. I hit the ground, rolling into a heap of floral shit. Tangled, I slide down right into this guy ... who is suddenly smelling really bad. His head rolls back. There's blood on his mouth where's he's bitten himself with exceptionally interesting teeth. But he's looking surprised, too. Right. I'd be surprised to find a wooden dart sticking out of my heart. Almost anyone would. Mano stalks over. There are metal blades in his hands now. "We've never used a pimp, bloodsucker, and we won't be using one now." He spits on this guy, although GQ – dissolved like he is – is past caring. Mano looks disappointed. "I thought it would take longer," he says. "Like it does in the movies. I thought he would suffer more." This is not the sort of conversation I'm really comfortable with. The booze is burning holes in my stomach. What I'd really like now is to throw up. "I've got to go," I said. Mano nods, waving me on. Heading back to Lela's grave. I can guess who's waiting for him there. Hysteria grabs my upper hand, the words almost come out: "Give my best to Lela. Be seeing you!" But I don't think I want to see Manolito Wu ever again. |
