Existence Denied

CHAPTER 5

After a brief knock, Jared strolled into Coyo's office, wondering what his surrogate father had in store for him today. Coyo never disappointed him.

His office, a throwback from the 1930s, had the old wooden desk with its padded four-legged chair. A typewriter sat against a wall—almost a museum piece but still functional. Old wooden slated blinds covered the steel barred windows, and large black filing cabinets covered one wall. The only modern piece of equipment sat in the center of the desk, a top-of-the-line computer system. The dim lighting gave the box-like room a rundown feeling.

But the old man who sat at the desk was anything but rundown.

Jared had never seen Coyo in anything but a suit, colorful ones that screamed, "Look at me!" Today's ensemble consisted of a red pinstriped three-piece suit and a florescent green tie, the matching handkerchief folded into a perfect pocket square. Everyone in the neighborhood thought of Coyo as the godfather of the area, or the OG, a slang term for someone who's authentic or plain "old-school."

The young man leaned against the door, covered his eyes with an arm, and gasped. "Somebody help me! My eyes! It's too bright." With a cheerful grin, Jared lowered his arm and bowed to the older man. "Coyo, with that Santa Claus suit on, all I can see in this dingy room is you."

The man rose, sat on a corner of the desk, and chuckled, his dark, rounded face framed with thinning salt and pepper hair. The winter white goatee Coyo insisted on wearing, as a sign of age and wisdom, was freshly trimmed. A former marathon runner in his youth, he still carried the slender build and lean mass muscle.

Most people view Coyo as ten feet tall, strong as an ox, and able to leap tall buildings, a man who earned respect by reputation and deeds. The residents knew who to call when things needed to get done.

Jared didn't know Coyo from the neighborhood but as a close family friend, the man who became his father figure at a young age.

"So, tell me what that banshee of a woman you married is doing in my joint?" Coyo's voice was gruff, but the smile on his face soften the words. "Who did she hurt this time?"

"Man, why do you call her that? Banshees scream to warn of impending death. Sweet Lorraine's only brought joy to my life." Jared sauntered over to the old-fashioned visitor's chair and took a seat.

Coyo shook his head. "Oh, I like the girl well enough, Jared. As fine as she is, I wish sometimes she would conduct herself like a lady." He leaned over and straightened Jared's collar. "You need to check your appearance, boy. You suppose to be a professional."

Jared ignored the dig. "She's an ex-cop, Coyo, and a bit rough. What'd you expect?"

Coyo frowned at him. "Stop the backtalk, boy. I took that girl in my house as one of my own. I defended her with all that I got, but it don't mean I can't complain about some of her ways."

"I'll always appreciate what you did for us," said Jared, nodding at his mentor. "If it hadn't been for you, we would've never gotten married."

Jared's family hadn't protested because Lorraine was white and he was black. Their objections had everything to do with her Irish heritage. When he had announced to the family his intentions of marrying the red-headed beauty, every Irish myth, folklore, and legend came into play.

"You know them Irish folk believes butterflies move between worlds and bring messages and warnings." Madear, his grandmother, had shaken her head, her hair the color of slate grey. "Sounds like some devilish stuff if you ask me."

His Uncle Tiny, a thick heavyset man who loved to make wood carvings, had called him to his shop on the outskirts of town one day. As Jared sat on an overturned bucket, watching his uncle fashion a wooden flower, Tiny had demanded he think it through before marrying Lorraine. "You know dem Irish have a lot of haunted castles. Abandoned asylums, people disappearing, and I heard they got an inn with a ghost tower room you can rent. Who in their right mind wants to sleep with a ghost? You need to think hard, boy."