The carpet silenced our footsteps but the man in green still turns around to greet us with white teeth.

"Please, take a seat. I'll let you know when all the details are sorted." Maurizio raises his arm to point all five fingers at the couches in front of fireplace. The tone and smile reminded me of when he spoke to Enzo.

After receiving a nod from me he took a step left to his desk, sat down, and brought up his notebook from his pocket.

I picked the spot in front of fireplace, vertical to both Italians. My left arm on the handrail, right arm stretched back behind the sofa, the side of my jacket was dragged to the right as well. Zipper close to my holster that it poses no obstacles if I'm to use it.

I sat. Leather made a small squeak from materials kneading. A chill ran up my spine to the back of my brain and it made me put a smile on my face. A believable one, as little as it means to act.

If that wop takes longer than five minutes I might start shooting.

***

"It's been what? 2 years?" Left leg crossed on another, Enzo asks.

"Might be longer, might be shorter."

"A long time either way. So, how've you been?" Taping a three-note play on his knee with the slim fingers of his left hand. "Up your head in the thick of it all as usual?"

Two light, three rapid taps on the knee.

"Ain't got the slightest clue who you took me for." I grin a deprecating smile and wave my head in the smallest motion. "All I do is booze and some harmless favors lately, nothing major."

Three heavy taps.

"And did you drink yourself into a rehab for the past months?......" The edge of his eyes trails into two straws of crow's feet that tilt in the opposite direction of the edge of his mouth.

"Which part of me conveys the message of 'I want to get sober'? No, I was off town for some...... simpler pleasure." He mouths an O shape, with his brows tilted.

Two rapid taps.

"Which is?"

"Vacation. Day off. Escape the concrete jungle. See the rest of the fucking world. That kind of thing." His blue eyes seem bleaker than normal, with a plain boredom and a bit of annoyance in them. They swirl inside of his eye sockets before he tilts his head and lets out a hum in response.

One rapid, four heavy taps.

"And did you take pleasure in that?" He asks in a voice like timber on sawmill. I shrug and lean back into my seat.

"Sure did. A bit of relaxation never fails to lubricant the soul."

"Than......." One heavy tap. "Why did you come back?"

***

Her eyes filled with life and beaming a contagious brown like the shell is not enough to hold the weight of her soul. No matter how the world treated her, no matter how she treated herself. Their eyes never failed to convince me she resent no one and blames nothing.

And now. Filled with fear and a certain level of confusion, I don't see any of them.

***

Did I let it slip? Or was it a lucky guess? Either way, the blue oceans in his eye socket now reflect glints of mild interest as he spotted the faintest sign of reaction from me.

"Some old friend reach out, asking where the fuck I've been and if I'm interested in some honest work." I shrug and collect my composure. "Plus, whatever kind of......exotic scenery you fancy." Letting out a chuckle, I scratch the edge of my face with my right hand. "Sooner or later will get dull since there ain't nothing you haven't seen in Faust."

Two light taps.

"That so....... Well, I hope that was a good trip nonetheless?" The seam between his lips was vertical, his eyes remained half-heartedly interested and bored. I let out a mouth click and crack the knuckles of my left finger with my thumb but keeping it available for disposition.

"It was. Good for body," Wounds. "Good for your soul.” Until it doesn’t. “You should try it." I said while letting out a mocking smile, with my brows slightly closing on each other.

For the first time today, I see genuine amusement in his eyes while he laughs in the sound of a ball-gagged horse screeching. Clapping his hands hard and leans his head back for a second, and when he tilts it back the laugh and frown are all gone. But a hint of amusement still lingers in eyes.

"Sto bene, Grazie." A loud crack, like plastics colliding rang from my left before it became a slow and steady machinery noise. Though I didn't notice Maurizio leaving his seat, the coffee maker on the shelf had started working. I take two more glances at Maurizio and the oozing machine before turning back.

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"Well, then. Enough about me, what about you? How are.......things going in the past months?" I ask while leaning my body forward, upper arms on my knees. "I heard the old man want you fellows to behave like disabled kids standing at the edge of the playground while the others are getting bruised up in sand plays." He smiles to himself upon my inquiry.

"That's a way to put it." Enzo tilt his brows in an exaggerated way and the muscle close to his left eye tensed for a moment. I let a slight smile drag my cheeks.

"You got some to get off your chest?" I turn my head towards him like I'm waiting for gossip. His blue eyes were now laced with a sheet of caution, to covered what was underneath those emotions.

What an exciting time to be alive.....

"The old man gave the order. It’s a smart one of course..... and since I ain’t got much good things to say about the chinks. Or the mobs so it's best this way. Besides, all this fuss..." He gestures towards the ceiling and front door. "Seem pretty goddamn personal to me. Like an old couple quarreling ." His mouth clicks before he leans forward like I do. "But a bit noisier than normal that's true."

"You don't think it's going to happen?" Enzo's eyeballs roll towards me as their sapphire blue filled with callous disdain. Then, he speaks in a low but pithy tone.

"You do?" His nostrils subtly widen as he exhales a long breath. "Haven't you given a single notion of thoughts into why? This has been dragging on for five years hmph?" Brows raised, Enzo opens his mouth to continue but stops mid-sentence and curls up a smile while looking past me. Both of us are fixated on the topic that the static noise in the background had stopped seconds ago.

"Sorry for the disturbance," Maurizio states in an apologetic tone though the fixed lines next to his eyes show contradicting demeanor.

"Not at all."

"None to be sorry for." Both me and Enzo replies at the same time. With the same professionalism on his face, Maurizio places two gold ceramic coffee cups on blue and gold bordure saucer on the table between us. The edge of black reflects a brown luster as small traces of steams flow upwards lazily.

He then gave both of us a nod which we returned with a smile before he retreated back to his desk. I hold the delicate trinket by the edge and take a sip. While the sourness of passion fruit and raisin and the bitterness of burnt shit made me question if my taste buds are poisoned, Enzo gives it a side eye and leans back to the previous position. With a collected tone he says.

"Let me tell you something. The prime criteria of a war, of any conflict. Is that someone has something to gain, or someone has the drive to hate, to march soldiers ff a cliff just to kill what's under it..... That kind of hate is rare and usually not from a man of power...."

I will slaughter every single one of them! The savages, the traitors, the dishonest! The maozi and hanjian! I'll give no quarters, just as they did to me and my family....... The recording of that old fuck came to my mind as a gentle reminder not all follows common logic.

"But reality seems very much like your unlikely scenario. Shit started from the arms business and reasons to hate had been stacking up for five years." I shrug and put the cup down. Enzo lets out a mocking smile that shows his teeth.

"Precisely. Stars are aligned for five years. So ask yourself Lee...... why the fuck hasn't it happened?" He opens his palms like a clergy giving blessings, eyes shining with malignant glint. "You have all the reasons and means to start a war, why don't you? I couldn't care less for them but even I can see the inkling."

I study his eyes closely to see if I can find any signs of..... whatever the hell that he's working here. But the sheet of caution from earlier is gone. He's not hiding anything, the sea water seems as clear as a creek on high mountain, you can see the bottom of it is a sense of condescending towards the world, the truth of him.

"What are you getting at?"

"Only the most perceptive to what's in front of you......" He lets out another long exhale to my question as he closes his lips momentarily. "...whichever side, got a group that has been keeping total confrontation at bay for as long as the dispute was there. And if they can keep it this way for five years...... that means they're the real voice of this war."

One can only fathom how the fuck did this asshole guessed it right. I take another sip of the coffee and start to understand why Enzo doesn't even touch his.

"Quite a theory you got." He let out a loud and hoarse laugh that echoed the silent tailor shop. Leaning back on the sofa with a leg over another, the ocean had closed. What's underneath sinks back to the sea bed while he looks identical before the conversation.

"I wouldn't call that a theory. At best just…… getting thoughts off my chest." He sings as his left-hand starts tapping the three-note melody again.

Before I can think of something to brush it off, Maurizio silently returns with the same blue and gold bordure saucer and a small pyramid made of sugar cubes place on it.

"Mr. Lee." He placed the saucer carefully right next to my coffee and gave me a very slow nod with the biggest smile today. "All details are confirmed, as...... challenging as it is, I'm sure I can manage. We'll be contacting you when the suit is done. Again, thank you, for visiting the establishment." He extends his right hand to shake mine again before he turns to Enzo.

"And Mr. Pisano. We can begin once you're ready." To that Enzo smiles wordlessly.

As Maurizio disappears to the back room again. Enzo finally picks up the coffee cup only to put it down after a whiff.

Four light taps, he checks his watch in a lazy motion and stands up.

"You had a payday?" He asks in a plain tone as he fixes the wrinkles on his blazer.

What?

"Why?"

"Just a hunch." He shrugs and loosens the collar a little. "And wouldn't want you sleeping on the street for an outfit." He tilts his head towards the saucer....... with seven sugar cubes.

Shit.

"......7 Large?" He laughs

"Always nice catching up with you." He sings as he strides past the sofa towards the back, leather shoes making no sound on the dark color carpet. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

I combine the cash in last two envelopes and added 5 more from my wallet. Placing it under the coffee saucer than took one last look around the quiet front of tailor shop. I found myself wanting to get out more than ever.

4:20 I pull the door open and let the half-setting sun land its final spite on me before the horizon of concrete and glass swallows it and the neon lights take its place.

I put the shades back on and fish out my smoke in jacket pocket. The idea of smoking indoors crossed my mind a couple of times in the past hours but considering even Enzo kept his hands off it, the place probably got some serious prohibitions.

Two tries, some sparks flicker my thumb red. I lean on the burnt umber color wood next to bay windows and inhale as deeply as possible. A breeze came from my left, along the street, and purposely made the end burn faster and brighter. When I breathe out a lung full of smoke, the taste of mint, nicotine, and an itching at the end of my throat urges me to cough my organs out. Half of the cigarette is now ashes hanging by the wrinkled warp paper.

God I fucking needed that. Passerby slowly changes from students and young couples to nine to five dragging their feet. Two men in black and yellow lock their gaze on me as soon as they see me from the other end of the street, I hold the cig between my index and middle finger and salute them. Drawing a wisp of smoke between us.

The guy closer to me lets out a hum, his eyes wander up and down on me while the other hangs both his hands on his vase.

Is it month-end assessment or what? I thought to myself as I put the cig back into my mouth and brought up my wallet to confirm that I’m strapped.

The next two places are own by some folks I really don't want to owe from even if I could. Information brokers can sometimes be the most morally bankrupt of our bunch. As the cig burns steadily brighter by the increasing west wind, I take two more puffs and flick it to the nearest corner.

Get off the wall, stretch my legs, pick up the violin case and hit the road again. Two blocks and a very long fucking traffic light later, I walk down the subway entrance of dark green fences. Train to the lanes are four minutes late as usual.