Time & Space (Short Fiction Collection Vol. 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

revenge–especially to women.”
    –Francis Bacon
     
    Marcela jogged along the Westside biking trail in the park, initially wishing Peter was with her. But he was packing his things at the apartment, their relationship over. She’d come back home unexpectedly early this afternoon and found Peter in their bed with another woman. She had no idea who the petite blonde was, but it didn’t matter. Bottom line was Marcela would be living alone now for the first time in seven years, since leaving her native Dominican Republic to attend school here in the City of Angels.
    Marcela scoffed at the ridiculous nickname. Peter certainly hadn’t turned out to be an angel; that was for sure. Far from it!
    Even though Marcela didn’t like to run by herself at night, she’d hoped it would be cooler this late, and she couldn’t really stand the sight of Peter. Besides, she asked herself with a flippant sense she didn’t really feel, what self-respecting low-life would be out here, now, in this absolutely sweltering sauna? Being from the Caribbean, heat never really bothered her, but she hated the humidity and stifling smog LA afternoons were famous for. And it was indeed muggy, regardless of the late hour: her light green tank top and shorts were soaked with perspiration already, and she hadn’t run a quarter mile yet.
    Marcela sighed, speeding up slightly.
    She didn’t need a man in her life right now, anyway. Not with the demands at the office–she was very close to being offered an associate position. She smiled wryly, thinking that maybe this would work out better for her, after all. She’d have more time to do work at home, instead of sitting around fretting about Peter, when he was out supposedly playing three-on-three basketball but actually seeing a girlfriend. In any event, she was resigned to the decision. And really, the idea of being alone didn’t seem quite so frightening, now; Sandy was next door, if she needed company.
    Maybe, I’m going through some kind of transformation here, Marcela told herself, wiping a wrist sweatband across her forehead. Yeah, finally growing up.
    It seemed to suddenly grow darker as the trail curved away from 10th Avenue into the heart of the park. Scary–
    That’s when she saw them ahead standing in the path, instantly realizing they were wrong, all three wearing black windbreakers in the muggy heat.
    Marcela slowed to a walk, eyeing them warily.
    As she got closer the three black teenage boys aggressively maintained their position, actually blocking her way on the bike path. Now she could see the funny caricature of a grinning skull on the breast of their jackets, and they were all wearing black satin bandannas on their heads, like defensive backs in the NFL. But she didn’t think these boys were playing a game. No indeed.
    She came to a halt about ten feet from the three young men, reaching up and nervously stroking her good luck charm hanging around her neck: the tiny silver ball pendant, a smooth and shiny sphere with a hole drilled through the middle.
    Well, Marcela thought with forced confidence, maybe those two nights a week studying karate at The Divine Wind will pay off, now. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that though. “Can I pass, please?” she asked, with fake bravado, trying to keep her voice from breaking.
    “No, momma,” the biggest boy said, with a kind of half apologetic tone, shaking his head. “Go ‘head, tell her why, Silk.”
    The smallest boy took a step forward, holding out his hand. “We collectin’ toll,” he said, an evil smirk on his face.
    The big guy nodded at Marcela. “Tha’s right, momma. Hope ya’ll holdin’ somepin’ in tha’ little purse.” He pointed with his left hand at the blue waist purse that contained her apartment keys, a few dollars, and some change, his right hand unbuttoning his windbreaker, revealing a pistol stuffed in the front of his pants.
    Oh, my God, she thought, her heart hammering her ribs as the grim reality of