Read Online Angel Baby: A Novel by RICHARD LANGE - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: RICHARD LANGE
Tags: thriller
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Baldy points at Jerónimo and gives the thumbs up. The tower guard waves his rifle again. Baldy moves back inside the cellblock and closes the door.
Jerónimo pauses for a few breaths of fresh air. The sounds of a Tijuana night rise over the wall and drift across the deserted yard. A car honks, music plays, a mother shouts for her children to come inside for dinner. The prison festers right in the middle of the city, surrounded by houses, restaurants, and shops. During the riot, people with loved ones inside climbed onto the roofs of neighboring buildings and tried to catch glimpses of their fathers, sons, and lovers when the assault team finally herded the surviving inmates onto the yard.
Jerónimo sets out for B Block, walking across the basketball court and the weight pit. It’s a hot night but still a relief from the swelter of the cellblock. And he can see the stars out here, faint in the purple sky, at least until the tower guard decides to fuck with him by shining a spotlight in his face. Jerónimo raises a hand to block the beam and keeps his eyes on the ground, not missing a step.
When he reaches B Block, he pushes a button next to the door that sounds a buzzer. A guard appears at the window in the door, and another twenty gets Jerónimo inside.
He met Irma at the pharmacy where she worked. He liked how classy she looked in her white coat and pants, but she cut him off with a cold stare when he tried to flirt with her as she rang up his chewing gum and deodorant. Catching a glimpse of his shaved head and tattoos in a mirror on his way out, he couldn’t blame her. A woman like that could do a lot better than a thug like him.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He found himself remembering her eyes while he ate lunch and mooning over her dainty hands as he drove to a barbershop to squeeze a payment for El Príncipe out of the owner. He returned to the pharmacy the next day for more gum and asked Irma if she could recommend some vitamins, said he’d been feeling a little run-down. She came out from behind the counter and spent ten minutes with him, explaining the different pills and what they were supposed to do for you. When he asked if she knew of anything that’d make him better looking, she smiled the faintest of smiles and said, “You’re a funny one, aren’t you.”
“I’m trying,” he replied.
He replayed this exchange over and over for the rest of the day, searching for deeper meaning in Irma’s every word, every gesture. And then, that night, as he once again tossed and turned in his narrow bed, feverish with visions of his bleak future, it came to him as suddenly as a bullet to the head: He loved her, and loving her was the only thing that would save his life.
He began to court Irma with all the desperation this realization inspired, showing up at the pharmacy every day with a small gift and a compliment. After two weeks she agreed to have coffee with him, two weeks later, lunch. Every time he was with her, he found something new to admire. There had been other women in his life, but none like her. Her sincerity and kindness seemed to alter the composition of the air he breathed and transform the chemistry of his blood.
He told her the truth from the very beginning, that he was a murderer, a thief, a weapon in the hands of evil men.
“But there’s something good in me,” he said. “It’s growing every day, taking over.”
Irma told him later that his honesty had taken her by surprise. She’d been expecting gangster posturing and crude boasts, but instead was moved by the tears she saw in his eyes when he expressed his desire for a new kind of life. After a month of listening to him lay himself bare, she finally reached across the table and took his hand.
“That’s enough looking back,” she said. “From now on, we only think about the future.”
This was all the encouragement Jerónimo needed. He met with El Príncipe the very next day to tell him that he’d
Jerónimo pauses for a few breaths of fresh air. The sounds of a Tijuana night rise over the wall and drift across the deserted yard. A car honks, music plays, a mother shouts for her children to come inside for dinner. The prison festers right in the middle of the city, surrounded by houses, restaurants, and shops. During the riot, people with loved ones inside climbed onto the roofs of neighboring buildings and tried to catch glimpses of their fathers, sons, and lovers when the assault team finally herded the surviving inmates onto the yard.
Jerónimo sets out for B Block, walking across the basketball court and the weight pit. It’s a hot night but still a relief from the swelter of the cellblock. And he can see the stars out here, faint in the purple sky, at least until the tower guard decides to fuck with him by shining a spotlight in his face. Jerónimo raises a hand to block the beam and keeps his eyes on the ground, not missing a step.
When he reaches B Block, he pushes a button next to the door that sounds a buzzer. A guard appears at the window in the door, and another twenty gets Jerónimo inside.
He met Irma at the pharmacy where she worked. He liked how classy she looked in her white coat and pants, but she cut him off with a cold stare when he tried to flirt with her as she rang up his chewing gum and deodorant. Catching a glimpse of his shaved head and tattoos in a mirror on his way out, he couldn’t blame her. A woman like that could do a lot better than a thug like him.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He found himself remembering her eyes while he ate lunch and mooning over her dainty hands as he drove to a barbershop to squeeze a payment for El Príncipe out of the owner. He returned to the pharmacy the next day for more gum and asked Irma if she could recommend some vitamins, said he’d been feeling a little run-down. She came out from behind the counter and spent ten minutes with him, explaining the different pills and what they were supposed to do for you. When he asked if she knew of anything that’d make him better looking, she smiled the faintest of smiles and said, “You’re a funny one, aren’t you.”
“I’m trying,” he replied.
He replayed this exchange over and over for the rest of the day, searching for deeper meaning in Irma’s every word, every gesture. And then, that night, as he once again tossed and turned in his narrow bed, feverish with visions of his bleak future, it came to him as suddenly as a bullet to the head: He loved her, and loving her was the only thing that would save his life.
He began to court Irma with all the desperation this realization inspired, showing up at the pharmacy every day with a small gift and a compliment. After two weeks she agreed to have coffee with him, two weeks later, lunch. Every time he was with her, he found something new to admire. There had been other women in his life, but none like her. Her sincerity and kindness seemed to alter the composition of the air he breathed and transform the chemistry of his blood.
He told her the truth from the very beginning, that he was a murderer, a thief, a weapon in the hands of evil men.
“But there’s something good in me,” he said. “It’s growing every day, taking over.”
Irma told him later that his honesty had taken her by surprise. She’d been expecting gangster posturing and crude boasts, but instead was moved by the tears she saw in his eyes when he expressed his desire for a new kind of life. After a month of listening to him lay himself bare, she finally reached across the table and took his hand.
“That’s enough looking back,” she said. “From now on, we only think about the future.”
This was all the encouragement Jerónimo needed. He met with El Príncipe the very next day to tell him that he’d
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