Page 1 of Red's Peril: Part 1

Chapter One

“What the fuck is this?” Manny stares in disgust at the piece of paper he’s just taken out of the now ripped envelope. As if he can no longer bear to touch it, he chucks it down on his desk. When he looks up, his eyes are narrowed.

My shoulders rise parallel with my ears, then drop. It’s self-explanatory, but seeing he clearly needs to hear it from my mouth, I oblige. “My resignation. Two weeks’ notice, as required.”

“Fuck.” Disbelieving eyes meet mine, then lower as Manny picks up the discarded letter and reads it again, as if hoping this time, the words will be different. Then, putting the paper to one side, he pushes his chair out from his desk and stands. Coming around to my side, he puts a grubby hand on the arms of my equally dirty overalls. “Come, son. Let’s go get a drink. We’ll discuss this. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

It might be considered unusual for a boss to take one of his workers to a bar in the middle of the morning, but Manny and I have a deeper relationship than normal between boss and employee. One that goes back seven years to when I first turned up at his garage, an unskilled only-just-adult begging for employment. I don’t know what he’d seen in me, but after he’d completed the formal interview—one which had been entirely unsatisfactory, I’d clearly had nothing to offer—instead of accusing me of wasting his time, he’d started to probe. Some of my desperation had gotten through to him.

Manny’s was the last of the dozens of places I’d already approached, and no one else had given me a chance. In many cases, there’d been no interview, and those which I’d had were over fast.

But Manny had sensed there was something inside me. Instead of asking what I could offer to him, he asked the simple question why. Once he’d learned of my home circumstances, he’d given me that chance.

He hadn’t gone easy on me. He’d pushed me as hard, if not harder than anyone else would have done. But I’d repaid the faith he’d shown in me tenfold. I’d gone from sweeping floors, to completing the apprenticeship he’d sponsored me for, to being, though I say it myself, his number one and best mechanic.

I knew today wouldn’t be easy. Of course, he’d be pissed at me for wanting to leave, but I’d also suspected it wouldn’t come as a complete surprise.

Removing my overalls and grabbing my jacket off the hook, I put on the warm garment then turn up the collar. Rubbing my hands together and shivering, I step outside into the late autumn chill. Looking up at the sky, I see grey clouds brooding. Rain or snow? The latter isn’t forecasted, but what do they know? It feels cold enough for the weather to turn. I grimace. I’m already running out of time.

Alongside a now silent Manny, I cross the street, heading to the bar that’s conveniently opposite the auto-shop. I push open the door and hold it for Manny, then follow him as we enter a different world, one that’s warm and welcoming, all the elements left outside.

“Manny! Red! Come on in. What can I get you?” Being handily close, we’re no strangers here.

I tip my chin toward the bartender while Manny calls out, “Two beers, Harry.” Then my boss waves his hand and indicates a table in the corner. Sure, it’s good for privacy, but I wonder why he’s bothering. Apart from a drunk in the corner, we’re the only customers at this hour. Habit, I suppose.

Manny pulls out a seat, and settles himself, giving out a grunt as he lowers his ass down. His knees creek betraying his advancing age. As I take the chair opposite, he pierces me with his eyes, and barely lets me get comfortable, before he asks, “How did the funeral go?”

I breathe deep and shrug.How the fuck do I answer? “As well as these things can, I suppose.” Yesterday I’d celebrated a life and buried a body. What more can I say?

Harry arrives and places two beer mats and then the two beer bottles down. Manny takes out his wallet, but Harry shakes his head knowingly, stating, “I’ll start a tab.”

Barely waiting for the bartender to go, Manny dives straight in. “You’re making a mistake, son.”

The weight of letting down the man who’s done so much for me bears down on my conscience. I didn’t expect him to leap at the chance of seeing me gone, but I’d hoped he’d understand. I grimace. “Done a lot of thinking, Manny. I’ve got no reason to hang around.”

He taps his fingers to a rhythm only he can hear. “Is it more money? More responsibility? I can give you that. I was thinking of retiring—”

“Manny, no.” Raising my hand, I stop him. “When I started, I only thought it was for a short time. You knew it was temporary. Then weeks became months, months added up to years—”

It’s his turn to interrupt. “And you’ve made something of yourself in the meantime.”

Have I? Sure, I’ve got a trade, a good job, and, if I understand Manny correctly, a chance to take over his business and make it mine. But begging the bank for a loan and committing myself to running an auto repair shop as I ran myself into the ground trying to pay the money back sounds like a fucking millstone I’d be carrying around. It’s not the future I’d always longed for.

“I became what I had to,” I refute quickly. “Doesn’t mean it was my life’s plan. Manny, you always knew I was going to move on when…” My mouth twists, and I shake my head. It’s hard to put into words even now. “I don’t want to let you down, and fuck knows, I can’t express how grateful to you I am. But I feel like I’ve just been motoring, stuck in the same gear, and now I’ve a chance, I want to take it and move on.”

He stares down at his beer. “Yeah, I know, son.” His eyes close briefly, then reopen. “I’d thought, hoped, maybe over the years you’d found your place.”

“I was never meant to be here,” I remind him. I’d had everything planned. I was going to finish school, join the Army with an eye on becoming a Ranger and travel the world. Yeah, I’d had big dreams and had to leave them all behind.

Manny shakes his head sadly. “But instead, life tied you down. Fuck that bitch.” He adds the last with more than a touch of malice.

The bitch in question being my mother.

Seven years back, I was set on the path I’d laid out for myself, even had the papers ready and just about to sign on the dotted line when my dad had had an accident at work. A building under construction had collapsed on him, breaking his back, and crushing his skull. He hadn’t been given long to live, his injuries considered too serious, but somehow, he’d held on. He’d even recovered sufficiently to be discharged from the hospital.

We’d thought we’d lost him, and it had been touch and go for a while, but he’d survived. I’d been jubilant. What kid wants to lose his dad? But as time went on, I often wondered whether he’d have preferred to have succumbed to his injuries. I’d never find out, as I’d never been able to ask. Left paralysed from the neck down and brain damaged, he’d never come back to himself. Rather than the strong man I’d always looked up to, my dad had become nothing more than a dependent child, unable to understand the world around him, and unable to communicate with it.

When he neither improved nor deteriorated, his wife of twenty years, my mom, had decided caring for him hadn’t been something she’d signed on for, totally forgetting the sickness part of her marriage vows. Not content with the man who’d been discharged from the hospital, she’d walked out, expecting me to go with her.

---