Fool's Eye Page 7

  Chapter 6

  By the time we reached Ace’s apartment, he was outside waiting on us. He was standing by a black Lincoln Town Car with the back door open. The vehicle was actually a Gypsy Cab––or poor man’s limo as we called them. They were cars that stayed clean and would take you anywhere you wanted to go. The best thing about Gypsy Cabs was that they charged by the ride and not by the mile. That is, unless you weren’t from New York. Then they charged you whatever they felt like charging.

  From the flag on the cabbie’s rearview mirror, and the language he used when speaking to Ace, he must have been from Haiti.

  Ace spotted us and looked at his watch.

  “You guys are late. Malik, you know better. How are you going to spearhead an operation if you can’t make it to a meeting on time?”

  I looked at my Minnie Mouse watch. It was only 6:55.

  “But, Ace, we’re on time,” I told him. “You said be back at six fifty-five, and its six fifty-five.”

  There was no joke or charm in his voice when he spoke to me this time. He sounded like a CEO of a major corporation.

  “When you’re supposed to be somewhere at a certain time, you need to arrive fifteen minutes earlier than that. Then, you’re just on time in my book. Don’t show up for meetings at the exact time you’re supposed to be there, because then, you’re considered late--even if the meeting hasn’t already started. Now, get in the cab before we waste any more time.”

  I got in the cab with nothing to say. So did Malik. Ace said something to the driver in French or Creole, and they both started laughing. There’s no doubt in my mind they were talking about me and Malik.

  The tension over the last ten minutes had forced my body to forget about David’s hands and Malik’s kiss… Well, maybe not the kiss. I looked over at Malik, who seemed to have really taken what Ace said to heart. He hadn’t said a word since we stepped into the cab.

  “Malik, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but Ace is right. If I’m going to run an operation, I need to act more like a professional. We shouldn’t have gone to the massage parlor, and this would have never happened. Oh, by the way,” he said, handing Ace the brown bag. “Sue sent this for you. She said to make sure you take one every morning.”

  “You went to go see Susan? How is she doing?”

  “She’s fine. Linda met David.”

  “Really? Did she have a happy ending?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She must have gotten something, because she wanted to slap me afterwards.”

  I butted in. “Hello, I’m right here. Where are we going?”

  “Queens,” they replied in unison.

  “Queens? Who goes to Queens?”

  Ace smiled at me as we crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. “That’s exactly why we go there. Who would think a band of confidence men would hang out in––”

  Malik’s phone rang. Ace and Malik looked at each other. Ace nodded, and Malik nodded back. Malik then twisted to his side to face us, took a deep breath, and the play began.

  Malik answered his phone. “This is Quincy…Yeah, Linda told me you would be calling…Yeah, yeah, I’m sure I can get it. Look, I don’t like talking over the phone. Let’s say we meet tomorrow at Bryant Park at noon. I’ll have on a Cowboys hat…No, a Dallas Cowboys hat…Of course, I’m a Cowboys fan. What real red-blooded American isn’t?” He laughed. “I know. Look, you know how to get there, right...Okay, where are you coming from…Okay, so take the F-train toward uptown and get off on 42nd and Bryant Park…Yeah, it should take you twenty minutes…Okay, see you then…Yeah, how bout dem boys?!”

  They shared one more laugh before Malik hung up.

  “Good job, Malik,” Ace said. “Nice way to throw those damn Cowboys in there.”

  “I knew you would like that.” Malik then looked at me and said, “Ace hates the Cowboys. He’s a big New Orleans fan. Ace, who dat?”

  Ace smiled. For the first time, in his true country fashion, he replied, “Now dat’s America’s real team!”

  The air seemed to lighten up some since that call. Ace and Malik were back to joking and going over the plans for Simon, while I looked at Queens for the first time.

  Queens was different from the city. I had never seen so many Indian and Asian people in my life. This was where they must go whenever they leave work in the city. People were all smiles in their economy friendly cars and mini-vans. I didn’t see a lot of that in my neighborhood. Avenue D was full of frowns, gangs, and drugs. They smiled too much for me in Queens. In my opinion, people who smiled that much were always up to something. Look at Malik, always smiling and always up to something.

  We turned off of Queens Boulevard and made a left on 39th Avenue. The cab stopped and dropped us off in front of a pool hall.

  “Are we going in there?” I asked Malik as we stepped out the cab.

  “Yeah, this is our spot. The rest of the crew should be here by now. Come on. Let me introduce you to everybody. Ace, we’re going in.”

  “Okay, I should be in there in a few minutes,” he replied, still talking to the cab driver.

  When Malik opened the door for me, I almost passed out from the amount of smoke that escaped the building. I felt like I was walking into a cloud of cancer. My lungs felt tighter with each step I took. I began to cough so hard that I thought I was going to die.

  Malik patted me on the back. “You okay?”

  “No! I thought it was illegal to smoke in a public place of business?”

  “This place is not open to the general public. It’s a members-only kinda pool hall.”

  I coughed a few more times before I was able to stop. When the smoke cleared, and I was able to breathe again, I took a second to check out the place. It was a small pool hall––so small that I would actually call it a bar with a couple of pool tables in it. It had a 50-inch TV by the front door and one near the bathroom in the back. The walls were covered with pictures of famous people, like the mayor, actors, and baseball players. In every frame was an old, white, gray-haired guy smiling. He had the same pose in every picture. He was grinning from ear to ear and had his arm around some unlucky celebrity. I guess he thought that, since he posed with somebody famous, everybody would think he was famous or at least someone you would like to meet. The gentleman was no doubt the owner of this cloud of smoke.

  The area where the drinking customers sat was more occupied than the pool tables themselves. When I took a closer look, I noticed people I’ve seen all the time in Times Square.

  I tapped Malik on the shoulder. “Hey, those are the Asians who draw people’s faces with animated bodies. And, those Africans are the ones who try to get tourists to take one of those sightseeing rides. Hey! That’s the Michael Jackson impersonator.”

  “Yeah, all great ropers. You will work with them from time to time, but you need to meet our family. That is who you will work with the most.”

  Ropers, inside man, marks, tales, set up, play, shills, store manager. All of these words had been thrown on my plate. I was trying to mentally digest them all, but my mind was getting full. Hell, I didn’t know what half of those words meant.

  I walked with Malik to the far end of the bar, where the air was clearer. He started introducing me to his people.

  “You’ve seen a couple of the guys already. Here we have Mr. Big Mike.”

  I shook his hand and said hi. Big Mike was a big fellow, but he was more muscle than fat. He had a kind voice and didn’t seem as intimidating up close. I liked him right away.

  “And this gentleman here,” Malik continued. “You met him earlier today. This is Jim Payne.”

  I stepped back. “You’re the other guy from the library.” I blushed at the frat boy…Well, the fake frat boy.

  “So,” he said. “Can I have your name now?” He laughed and gave me a hug. “You did a good today. We’ve been trying to rope old Simon for a minute now, but you hooked him in good. It’s going to be fun working with you.”

  That’s when
it hit me. “So you guys set me up. That’s how you had his file and knew who he was before I told you. That’s pretty messed up.”

  Ace walked up behind me. “Actually, that was your audition. Malik talked you up so much that I’d figured we might as well put you to the test. You passed with flying colors.”

  For some reason, it felt good to have Ace’s approval. I hardly knew the man, but his presence made me respect him. Ace, much like my father, walked and talked with pride. He was the kind of man who made you want to make him proud of you. Almost to the point where he would pat me on the head, say ‘good girl’, and I’d start panting my appreciation like a little puppy. No matter how big you think you are, there will always be somebody you will try to live up to.

  I met a couple more members of the family, and then sat with Ace while Malik and Jim Payne played a game of pool.

  “The boys really like you, especially Malik,” Ace said to me. “I’ve never seen him take to anybody the way he has to you.”

  “Except you. He loves you more than life. You’re more like a father to him.”

  “I wish I was that boy’s father. I would be a very proud man. That boy has a remarkable talent. One day, he will run this family. Do you know why?”

  I shook my head.

  “Because everyone here respects him. He has repeatedly proven that his loyalty lies with this family and nowhere else. In addition to that, he’s a quick learner. He’s the only student I’ve ever had who I could teach something to once and never have to worry about teaching him the same thing again. He always got it the first time. Well, that was until you came along. You two will make a great team.”

  “He’s a good guy, but he smiles so damn much.”

  Ace and I shared a laugh, and he told me that Malik’s mom had the same smile.

  Had? Does that mean Malik’s mom is no longer living? I wondered to myself. That’s why he said Ace is all he's got. Well, from the looks of it, he has me, too.

  I watched Ace as he stared into space.

  “Ace, you okay?”

  Ace looked down at me with a wary grin. “You know what? I’ve been in this game too long. I feel my time is near for retirement. Can you promise me something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Promise you’re going to take care of my boy once I’m gone.”

  I didn’t answer him. I tried to look deep in his eyes to see if he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “Ace, are you okay?”

  “Of course, I am, but a man can’t do this forever.” He drifted for a second and then said to himself, “White sandy beaches and see-through water.”

  I stared at him and wondered how long he’d been doing this. Where did he start? How did he start? That white-looking black man was more of a mystery to me than David's happy ending massage earlier.

  Ace looked over at me “Do you know when a con is good?”

  “When you get the money?”

  “No, when you almost start to believe the con yourself. That’s what you have to do tomorrow. You have to make yourself believe that whatever you say and see is real. Because at some point, the mark will look for that one lie that could blow the whole play off. You understand?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Well, don’t think too hard out there. Just let it flow and you’ll be fine.”

  Ace went over everything I was supposed to do the next day. He told me that everybody had a role and to just make sure I played mine to the script.

  When I made it back to Manhattan that night, I had a lot on my mind. For one, I questioned if I was cut out for such an operation. Could I really make a person just hand over ten thousand dollars to me?

  I thought about my kiss with Malik. I could still taste the sweetness of his tongue. I laid in my bed and rubbed my hands over my body, imagining that they were his hands. I pictured him smiling down at me, lowering himself to plant another one of his wonderful kisses on me. Then, my phone started vibrating. It was Jessica, texting me.

  While Malik fizzled into thin air, I read her text. She wanted to meet me for lunch. I still couldn’t get over how she transformed herself. That motivated me. If she could do it, then so could I. One day, she would see me, and I would be the one turning my nose up at her.

  With Ace’s help, I would be the woman every girl in the city desired to be like and not like that wannabe bitch Jessica.

  Chapter 7

  I arrived to Bryant Park at 11:30, thirty minutes before the meet time and fifteen minutes early. I sat on a bench facing Bryant Park Hotel, watching the rich people enter and leave. I watched a woman dressed in dark designer jeans, a royal blue silk shirt, and shoes that probably cost more than my parents’ monthly rent. As she walked, the wind blew, causing her blonde hair to have that bounce I’ve only seen in movies. I think God designed rich people hair to do that. Where I’m from I’d never seen a girl’s hair––Black, White, or Hispanic––do that. Besides the designer glasses, the only other accessory the rich blonde had was her little Yorkie, the dog of the season.

  She waited patiently as the doorman, who was dressed in all black, opened the door. I watched the woman stand by the curb kissing her dog as that same doorman damn near threw his body in the middle of the street to wave down a cab for her. Unlike me, she didn’t seem surprised, amazed, or moved. It was expected.

  As she slowly walked to the cab, the woman slipped the overzealous doorman some money. Probably five or ten dollars. Whatever it was, he didn’t look at it until she was securely in the cab and out of sight.

  He eyed the note, nodded his head, and hurried to the door to start the process all over again.

  That will be me one day. I will be the woman with bouncy hair. The woman who will have men waiting on her hand and foot ready to give whatever my heart desires, opening doors and fetching cabs. I will have my entire day planned with spa baths, pedicures, and manicures. I will make all the exclusive clothing boutiques close for me, so I can shop in private, while sipping on some expensive champagne. I will live that life. But, first things first. I’ve got to make this money in order to do that.

  I shook my head lightly to regain focus. I surveyed the park again to see if Simon had arrived. When I trained my eyes back toward the hotel, the doorman was opening the door again.

  This time, a young male came out. He was very clean cut. He had on an orange polo shirt with tan khaki pants and brown penny loafer shoes. He walked like he owned the world and everything in it.

  The man kept one hand in his pocket as he spoke to the doorman. The doorman seemed to be asking him something, but the young guy waved him off and pointed in my direction. He then shook hands with the doorman and started walking my way. I noticed that the doorman look at his hand again and smiled as he waited for the next guest to come.

  As the clean-cut man continued my way, I put my head down. If anything went wrong, I didn’t want anybody to say they saw me. I tried to guess by the speed he was walking when he should pass by me and when it would be safe for me to look up again. When I did, he was standing in front of me.

  “Linda, is that you? Hey, it me, Simon. What are you doing here? Where’s Quincy?”

  I raised my head higher to look at his face. “Simon? Hey, I didn’t recognize you. Umm, wow! You clean up nice. What are you doing coming out of there?”

  Simon looked a little embarrassed. “Oh, I didn’t want to get lost or be last to arrive for my meet. So, I looked up nearby hotels, and this one popped up. I took a cab over here last night. I also needed a break from my roommate.”

  “A cab? Why didn’t you just take the train?”

  “Where’s Quincy? I thought he was going to meet me here.”

  I stood up. “He was, but something came up. He asked me to come and get you.”

  “Why? Do you have to take me somewhere? Why didn’t he just give you the answers to give to me?”

  “That’s what came up. While he was hacking into the school system last night, so
mebody hit him with a virus. He’s been up all night trying to fix his system. He said he’d have it fixed by the time we get to his place, though. I’m not so sure about that now, since you’re so early.”

  Simon looked at his watch. “It’s eleven forty-five. I’m on time. My dad always said to arrive fifteen minutes before the time of your meeting. He said it shows good business. So, actually, I’m on time.”

  “You know, I keep hearing that.” I looked at my Minnie Mouse watch. “What we can do is take the train to 14th Street, and then take the bus from there. We should be at Quincy's place in less than an hour. Hopefully, he will be up and running by then.”