Page 2 of Cartel King

“April showers bring May flowers.”

What the hell? That is the most asinine thing I’ve said in ages, but it’s true.

I noticed when I approached she was wearing gloves to do this work, but I’m not. Since those leaves had been up there all fall and through the winter, they were a mushy pile of mold. I don’t even want to think whatever else there is besides just the leaves. My hands are disgusting, but it doesn’t stop me from grabbing the open composting bag I see and going over to scoop up what I dropped on the ground. When I finish that, I break up the stick I fished out and put it in the bag as well.

I left her little choice but to accept my help. She watches me as I move around like this is my front yard rather than as a trespasser. I watch from the corner of my eye as she steps over the baby gate and grabs something from the garage. Her dog could’ve easily cleared the gate in one leap. He’s that well-trained he just growled instead of ignoring the obvious barricade.

Just as I put the last of the leaves into a bag, she comes out with a bottle of water, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and some paper towels. She uncaps the water but doesn’t hand it to me. It takes me a moment, but I realize she grabbed it so she could rinse my hands for me.

I stick them out, and she pours the water until everything is off of my hands. I accept the paper towels and dry them off before taking a pump of the hand sanitizer.

“You said your name is Enrique, but I was remiss in telling you mine. It’s Elodie.”

Neither of us offers a last name, and I don’t blame her. I didn’t offer mine because a quick google to make sure I’m not a psychopath is enough to prove I am. My name will come up as thejefeof the Colombian Cartel here in New York. No police or federal agency has caught and prosecuted me to prove it. It’s just known. I’m certain she didn’t give her last name because she doesn’t need some strange man looking up her life history, even though I now have her address.

Constantine’s staring up at me while Elodie and I chat. I feel as though the dog is taking stock and deciding whether I pass muster. His head tilts to the side. If he were an old man, he would sit with his thumb and index finger cupping his chin with his finger tapping his jaw.

I don’t know why that came to me. It’s one of the most ridiculous thoughts I’ve had in a long time. It’s like that old-fashioned picture with the dogs playing poker. But he once again wags his tail and wiggles. Maybe he’s not judging me, or I’ve passed.

I’m tentative, but I offer the back of my hand to the animal, and he sniffs. His tongue sticks out for a moment as though he’ll lick me, but then he looks up at Elodie as though she would give him permission. She does nothing, so the dog sits and offers his paw to me instead.

“You have a very well-behaved dog.”

“I do. It took some training, but he’s a sweet animal to begin with.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s two. My sons got him for me.”

“Your sons?”

With gloves on, I couldn’t see a wedding ring. I glance toward the house, and she smiles.

“They won’t come out and grill you over who’s talking to their mom.”

I don’t want to tell her that’s not even what I was thinking about, but that’s good to know. Since she didn’t mention a husband coming out either, I assume there’s no angry man who’ll want to know who’s been picking leaves out of his gutters. Even better to know.

We stare at each other, and for once I’m at a loss for words, so I smile instead. I’ve been told I can be charming when I smile, but it seems not to affect her as much as the way she affects me.

“Well, I’m glad I could help you. I’ve got to finish my run.”

She looks toward the street and then at me and nods. “I really appreciate it. I have to admit my heart was beating a little hard as I stretched up there. I knew I should’ve moved the ladder down, but it still wouldn’t have mattered that much. I’m not exactly tall.”

“Just being a friendly neighbor.”

Her gaze passes over me before she looks at the house next door. This is a great neighborhood with homes that cost more than most people can afford. However, I’m certain she can tell I have more money than the average family here. It’s not that I have a ton of jewelry on or have ridiculous high-end clothing to work out in. I’ve just been told I reek of money.

“It was nice meeting you.”

She pulls her right glove off and sticks out her hand. Her skin is smooth, but I can feel calluses at the bottom of her fingers pressed against the palm of my hand. I noticed the workout equipment in her garage.

It’s a three-car, and the main two-car part has a bunch of fitness gear. She parked her car in the single. I walk to the end of the driveway. I’m nowhere near done, so I turn away from the direction I came and continue my run. I’d only put in two miles before I stopped her, so I have another three to go before I turn around.

When I come back past her house, I glimpse the top of her head moving back and forth. I realize she’s on an erg. I wonder if she just likes the rowing machines for fitness or if she’s like me and rows. I’ve been a rower since I was in high school.

I don’t have time anymore to be out on the water as much as I’d like, but I go out in my single as often as I can. Being on the water is peaceful to me, and rowing by myself is one of the few times when I’m alone and no one asks anything of me or reports any shit that’s going wrong. I keep going, but the woman is on my mind the rest of the day.

I can’t explain what it is about her that intrigues me. She’s definitely attractive, and I wouldn’t have minded more time to ogle her. But there was intelligence in her gaze and kindness in her smile. It’s not that I’m lacking intelligent company. It’s just I see kindness so rarely outside my family. My sisters didn’t move to America until after I’d been here for nearly two decades. My sister-in-law, Margherita, has been battling cancer for a few years now. It’s in remission, and she’s doing better than she was. For most of my adult life, she was one of the few sources of kindness. It’s not that she’s unkind now, but she doesn’t have the same optimistic air she did for years.

---