lieutenant.
“Bruce, my man!” Derrick hollered over the music. “You’re goin’ the wrong way. Chilly’s in the back. Come on.”
Bruce followed Derrick as they made their way through the crowd, cursing all the way. Derrick opened the door to the office and stepped aside to let Bruce go in. This is not good, Bruce thought as he looked around the room filled with everybody he didn’t want to see and one other man he had never seen before. Rocky was seated behind the desk and Chilly was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, with a young lady standing behind him.
Chilly was talking to the stranger, who sat quietly listening and nodding his head. The man looked like he didn’t belong there nor did he want to be there, and Bruce could tell that he was scared. Suddenly, the man got up and started for the door. Just before he reached Bruce, Chilly called out to him. “Jake!”
The man stopped and turned to face Chilly.
“It’s been six months, Jake. I need to start seeing some results. You understand me, Jake?”
The scared man nodded his head.
“I didn’t hear you, Jake. Do you understand what I’m sayin’, Jake?”
“Yes, Chilly, I understand you perfectly,” the scared man answered and rushed quickly past Bruce and out the door.
All eyes were now on Bruce and Derrick. “Look what I found tryin’ to make it out the door,” Derrick said.
Chilly looked up and smiled when he saw Bruce standing there. He whispered something to the young lady and she left the room. When she closed the door behind her, Chilly motioned for Bruce to come forward. “What’s up, Bruce? Come here and have a seat.”
“What’s up, Chilly?” Bruce said slowly.
“I know you got something for me,” Chilly told him. “And I’m really not in the mood for your usual list of bullshit excuses.”
Bruce reached into his pocket and handed Chilly the money he had for him. “It’s only fifteen hundred. I know I owe you four, but I just need a couple of days to get rest.” Bruce had another $1,500 in his pockets, which he would give up if it became absolutely necessary.
Chilly dropped his head. “You know what, Bruce? I knew this was a bad idea when I first started it. I should have passed you off to one of these muthafuckas years ago, but I felt some type of loyalty to you because you looked out for me with Gee when you was still working at the bank. You had a good thing goin’ there, but you fucked that up because you couldn’t keep your hands out that drawer. You’re a fuck-up, Bruce, but I ain’t tellin’ you anything that you don’t already know.”
“I’m sorry, Chilly.”
“Sorry for what? For being a fuck-up or for not havin’ my money? Probably both,” Chilly said and stood up. “You wanna know something, Bruce? It ain’t even about the money. Shit, this little four grand we talkin’ about ain’t gonna make me one bit of difference. It’s the fact that I trusted you, showed you respect, and this is how you’ve chosen to repay that, with more of your usual lyin’-ass bullshit.”
“I know I’m fuckin’ up, Chilly. But you know it ain’t always been like this. I made money for you,” Bruce pleaded his case.
“Made money for me? What, you think you the man ’cause you move an ounce or two every once in a while? Is that what you think? Shit!” Chilly screamed and slapped Bruce in his head. Everybody in the room laughed. It made Bruce feel like a fool—a fool who was about to die for four thousand dollars, most of which he and Natalie smoked themselves.
“I ain’t the man, Chilly. I know that. All I’m sayin’ is give me a few days to make my money back on what I got in the street. Chilly, please, that’s all I’m askin’ is for you to do that for me,” Bruce whined.
Chilly looked at Bruce for a long time without speaking. He looked around the room, knowing that everybody was waiting to see how he was going to handle this matter not of money, but of
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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