Tonight, Tonight, Could Be Just Any Night

I parked the Sonata behind Johnny’s jeep and stepped from the car into the hibiscus-scented heat. The night was clammy with moisture rising out of the damp land and drifting from the tropical storm that still lurked out to sea. Cicadas clicked and whirred their abdominal song somewhere in the dark.

“When do I get to meet...Lola?”

“You don’t need to snigger every time you say that, it’s her real name.”

“I know, I know. I just hope she’s got a hat made out of fruit – serious fruit, pineapples and that, never mind grapes and berries.”

“You’re headin’ for a disappointment, then. I’m up here, on the second floor, it’s a walk-up.”

“Well, there’s plenty plants growin’ in these gardens, she could always pick some flowers if she’s in a hurry, wee vine or two...Is this technically a condo? Or is it just...apartments? Or efficiencies? I could never sort out the words from the places.”

“Okay, I get your point. I’ve lived fancier places, but I’ve lived a helluva lot worse. So have you, Stevie. So have we. I used to have this great place over by Boca Ciega, but that’s a thing of the past now. This is okay – can still see the sea...water, anyway. And aye, it’s a condo. I think.”

The movement was barely perceptible, a shiver off to the right among the bougainvillea that trailed up the sides of the apartment block. Something... someone...shifted weight and the plant trembled.

Johnny was fumbling for keys, head down, as the shiver became a shudder and a flickering figure stepped sideways, half out of the shadow. No possible way to see that except as a threat. I lurched forward, yelling.

“Johnny! Down! Down!”

Instinct fought orders and instead of diving he turned towards the source of the noise – me. I caught Johnny full in the chest, arms wrapping around him and hauling him down below the level of the hedge.

Noise, now, to the right. Scuffling feet, a gasp in the silence. Then, shots.

One, two, three...then a fourth, hesitant. Around us, vegetation sings and earth thuds as the shots flail harmlessly by, velocity spent.

The sound of feet clacking on floor-tile, receding. Somewhere in the middle distance a car door open, closes, and an engine barks to life, wheels skidding on parking lot tarmac as it rips away onto the street and into the night.

Cicadas still trilled and resonated in the echoing silence left marooned after the gunshots’ passing. I eased myself off the huddling form of my brother and inhaled.

“Y’okay, not hit?”

“Nah, I don’t...no. I’m okay.”

“Good. Take a breath. They’re gone – he’s gone. Shhhiiiiit. Listen, is this the kinna neighbourhood where that was a normal night out? Or will your condo buddies be dialling 911?”

“S’fine, it’ll be fine. If the 5-0 don’t show in a coupla minutes, I’ll call them.”

“If they don’t show up in a coupla minutes? What? You worried what the neighbors might think if you called? More worried about that than gettin’ dead?”

“It’ll be okay. I dunno, I’m too...fuck, Stevie, I’m scared. I never expected that.”

“I know you’re scared. The old Johnny would’ve been kiddin’ on he was hit, just to wind me up. Christ, I’m scared...I never signed on to be target practice. Seems like you’re in even deeper shit than you thought.”

“Aye...and I thought it was already pretty deep.”

We scrambled unsteadily to our feet and breathed deeply, shivering still in the humid night.