Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was an unusually warm and sunny day in April. Birds were chirping outside, people were walking their dogs; it was the kind of day that just made people feel good. Bernice woke up to the soft kisses of the suns rays on his face at around 12:30pm that morning. He got out of bed, put on his boxers, and went to the kitchen for some sweet O.J. He noticed his roommate, Drake, had already gone out for the day. Bernice walked over to the window and looked outside at the beauty the sunshine created; still, Bernice did not feel good about today; he knew what today was, what he had to do. He downed the rest of his O.J., walked over to the stereo, set the station to 93.5, jacked the volume and then headed into the bathroom.

He went in to the bathroom, turned on the shower, dropped his boxers and stepped into the bathtub. He just stood there for a while; letting the water from the showerhead hit his face and trickle down the rest of his body. He finally put some soap on his cloth and began to clean his body.

Bernice got out of the shower, wiped the condensation off the mirror, looked at the light scruff that had been developing on his face, and decided he just wasn’t in the mood to line it up today. He wrapped his towel around his waist, and went into his room to get dressed. He came back into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he put on his fangs, then he went into the living room to grab his H&M jacket and his skateboard, then he was out the door.

The elevator doors opened, and Bernice stepped out.
“Morning Tom.”
“Oh Hey, Morning Bernie… Hey Bernie those two big guys came ‘round here again last night, ‘round 9pm, I told them you wasn’t here.”
“Thanks man.”

Tom was probably in his late 50’s. Typical superintendant look; gray hair, round stomach, out-dated button-up shirt tucked lazily into a pair of worn-out denim’s, and an accent that no one could quite place. He lived in the first apartment to the left with his wife, Linda. Tom was an all-around nice guy.

“Uh, Bernie, could I step out of line for a second?” Tom asked as Bernice was at the door.
“That depends, Tom.” Bernie was slowly easing the door open.
“What exactly is your relation to those two meat-heads who keep –“
“Not today, Tom. I gotta go.” He was out the door.

Just as Bernice got to the crosswalk, he felt a vibration at his side. His cell phone.
“Shit.” He said under his breath.
He checked the caller ID. It was only a text message.
2:15pm
Don Mills Park
@the spot
DON’T be late.

He closed the text message and checked the time, 1:57pm.
“SHIT!” Bernice started jogging towards Spadina Station.

He got off the train at Don Mills Station and moved past the crowd as fast as he could. He got upstairs just in time to catch the 25 Don Mills bus Southbound. He sat down in an empty seat and pulled out his cell phone, 2:20pm. Bernice began to panic.
“Next stop, Don Mills Park, west side stop.” He pulled the stop request, and got off.

Bernice got to the spot. No one was there.
“Yo Slash!” Nothing. “Damn.” He heard a beep from his cell phone. He took it out. 7 missed calls. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. All from Slash. “Shit man!” He pressed call back. He heard a familiar ringtone behind him. Before he could turn around, there was a sharp pain at the back of his head.

He turned around quickly, stumbling a little from the force of the blow to his head, he began swinging his fists with everything he had, not even knowing who he was swinging at. A hit to the gut and Bernice was down. Someone came and lifted him aggressively, keeping Bernice’s hands tight behind his back.
“I told you not to fuck around with me little Bernie.” A figure came out of the shadows of the trees and emerged through the men surrounding Bernice.
He wore jeans, a black Lacoste hoodie, and a black tuque with his braids freshly done underneath. He had a scar leading from below his eyebrow to the beginning of his cheek.
“Slash.” Bernice whispered under his breath.
“Ha-ha. Look what happens when young brothas like you don’t listen to the wise and experienced.”
Slash laughed to himself knowing that he could do and say whatever he wanted.
“I said I’d get it to you Slash. You know I will. I just need a little extra time.” Bernice said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
“Let this fool go boys.” The Brass Boys let him go. “I’m watching you Bernice. You’d better know I’m watching you. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to start getting others involved over your stupid mistakes.” He laughed to himself again.

The Brass Boys shoved Bernice into the bushes forcefully, and spat beside where he lay. Bernice didn’t even bother trying to get up, his mind and his body were too exhausted.
Slash and the Brass Boys all walked away laughing. Bernice lifted his head and looked around to see if anyone had seen what had just happened. There was no one in sight. He picked up his fitted, which had fallen off, and brushed off the Cincinnati ‘C’.
“Damn, these guys really got me,” he got up and brushed off his pants, and his Creative Recreation shoes. He lifted his hand, and felt the gash on the back of his head.
“Damn!”
He reached in his pocket for his phone. He needed to make a few phone calls; but he couldn’t feel his phone.
“Shit! Can anything get worse? Where the hell is my phone?”

The bush. He thought to himself. “Friggin bastards.” He crouched down and started feeling through the bushes. It could have bounced out of his pocket and landed further down, so he moved along. He finally found it. He got up, took one step and tripped on a vine. He fell through the bushes and onto the parks path, where he was greeted by a push from behind. He turned around and as he was about to say something, he looked down … and saw her.