I’m not a morning person. I’d happily sleep my way into the afternoon rather than peeling myself out of bed to get anywhere. This morning, I learned that I can fake it when called upon.

What’s brought me out of bed is a butcher shop. A butcher shop I thought I was getting to early enough in the morning that I’d be first in line. Instead, there’s already a bunch of the geriatric set crowded around the place. They seem to like the old world charm, even though it’s nothing like the old world here. 

A couple of creaky men are sitting at a table, drinking espresso and playing a game of cards that seems like it must have been going on for years already given how slowly they move. Unfortunately for me, there’s also a decent line-up to get into the butcher shop. I may already be too late. 

I stand at the end of the line behind an old crow wearing clothes that probably predates the Great Depression. We’re supposed to have progressed past this by now, killing for the sake of eating, but some old habits die hard. Especially with this crowd. 

There’s no movement in the line yet. It’s not like the Butcher to gum up the works. Not that he doesn’t like to chat, but it’s usually a one way conversation. I’ve never even learned his name. Mind you, I don’t think I’d want to know it. We have our agreement with one another and it’s been working just fine until now. 

I look through the window to see if there’s anyone I might be able to cut in front of. I see something better. Billy, an old friend from way back, seems to be working for the Butcher. I knock on the glass. Billy recognizes me, but he doesn’t seem happy that I’m making a ruckus. He nods, letting me know he’s seen me, but doesn’t move. 

I bang louder on the glass. 

The bundled up old bag in front of me turns around and mutters something in a language I can’t understand. I’m pretty sure it was some kind of insult based on the scowl. I give her a look, but she barely flinches. I look back up to see Billy right in front of me through the glass. He motions with his head for me to meet him out back. 

I give the crotchety woman a smirk, which leads to louder muttering in my direction. I head to the alley behind the shop to find Billy lighting up a cigarette. 

“You have until I’m done with this smoke, Guy.”

“Billy! Long time. Look, do you know if Hans is in there?”

Billy takes a long drag before answering me. 

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Come on. You’re still new here, no? I haven’t seen you around. Can’t you just chalk it up to being new and making a simple mistake?”

“Butcher doesn’t allow mistakes.”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask you to stick your neck out for me if it weren’t important, but we go way back. You know this is a big deal.” 

Billy flicks the ash of his cigarette. He’s almost done - with the cigarette and with me.

“You’re right, Guy. That’s why I can’t tell you squat.” 

This isn’t going well. 

“Look. I got money. What’s it going to take to make this go away?” 

“Considering you already owe Butcher, how do you have any money to spare for a bribe?” 

“I can get it. We can settle that. But I got money for Hans. Help me out here, Billy. I beg you.”

Billy takes the last drag of his cigarette. He holds the filter in his hands while he talks, like a talking stick in a sharing circle. I shut up and listen. 

“I’m not telling you whether or not he’s here. You know I can’t do that,” He flicks the cigarette. “But I’d recommend you get back in line.”

He goes back into the shop without looking at me. I got the answer I needed. Hans is here. I just hope I’m here soon enough to help him. 

I run back to the line in front of the store. Now there’s two more ladies who recently stepped off a boat from back in time. They’re bickering with one another in another, different, but similar language I don’t understand. I don’t have time to translate, so I step behind the lady who was mean-mugging me. 

The two ladies who just arrived are having none of it. They start yelling as though I’m robbing them. I try to tell them I was already here, but I can barely hear myself over their screeching. They’ve made enough noise to cause a problem, because Billy comes out - the front door this time - to talk to me. 

“What are you doing, Guy?”

“I’m just in line.” 

The lady in front of me suddenly turns into a sweet, old lady. Billy leans down closer to hear her better. I feel like it’s ill advised to put your face so close to someone like that. She might bite. Instead, Billy sympathetically shakes his head. 

“Back of the line, Guy. No cutting.”

“But, I was just-”

Billy gives me a look that he’s serious. 

“Fine.”

I move to the back and all three women look through me as I shuffle past them. Their tone is much nicer when, I assume, they thank Billy for dealing with the jerk who tried to rightfully take his place back. 

I knew when I got the call last night that Hans was in trouble that I should have moved faster. Everyone told me not to have a hot head. I should wait and go through the proper channels. The Butcher is a businessman. He doesn’t do things for the sake of revenge or sending messages. He sets the terms and expects you to follow them. 

That includes business hours. 

I probably could have slept in the car to be the first one here this morning. I didn’t consider that these geezers would have nothing better to do but wait in line for their daily cuts. I figured I’d stroll in, settle what I need to with the Butcher and Hans would be free to settle his debts. Instead I’m stuck waiting and hoping I didn’t make a horrible mistake. 

Each time another creaky fossil walks out of the shop with bags of paper-wrapped meat, I feel my stomach sink. They’re buying such large amounts. They must not know what they’re doing. The suffering that went into their chops and cuts. They must think this is all normal. Or they just don’t care. 

Fortunately, the line moves relatively fast. Relative to how fast these old cranks can move with their walkers and canes. I should have been through here already if Billy didn’t take me out of the line to tell me nothing. If anything happens now, I blame him. I can’t blame myself. I’m here to get Hans out of trouble. 

Not that I can really convince myself I’m free of blame. I sent him to the Butcher. I believed the hype. He’s just a businessman. He’s not like the loan-sharks you’d hear about that break your legs and expect you to continue making money to pay them back by pulling a rickshaw. The Butcher knew that if he didn’t keep everyone alive and healthy, he’s taking a loss. 

People nowadays don’t respond to ‘messages’ anyway. Not the way the movies would have you believe. They think it’s not going to happen to them anyway. Everyone thinks they’re following the rules. That’s why the Butcher makes the rules extra clear for everyone. It makes it very difficult to make a mistake. 

Unless you have an idiot friend who convinces you otherwise. That maybe you can be late on a few payments if you can prove you’ve made the right investments and you cut the Butcher in on it. He has no reason not to go for it, you’ll tell him. There’s nothing to worry about. Then that friend will be stuck outside the shop waiting with a bunch of old birds to make their purchases so he can talk to the Butcher while he’s open to talking. 

It’s my fault. I know it. I just need to make it right. 

I’m finally allowed in the shop once another two ladies squawk past with their bags of fresh meat. It’s a lot cooler than outside. That’s part of the reason we’re stuck waiting out there. That’s at least what the Butcher tells people. Doesn’t want to pay extra for air conditioning when everyone brings their body heat into the place with them. Or maybe it’s just easier to keep an eye on everyone if there aren’t so many people at once. Maybe it’s easier to spot a cop or a rat if they’re just one of a couple of people. 

Billy is at the door. I give him a look, knowing he can’t say anything. The look he gives me back tells me I still have time. I think. He can be a hard read, but he doesn’t do anything explicit to tell me I don’t need to be here.

The Butcher takes the order of the lady in front of me with a big, fake customer service smile. That turns into a genuine one when he looks past her and sees me. 

“Look who it is. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Butcher, I’m here. Am I too-”

He cuts me off with a hand in the air. 

“You’re after this fine lady. You’ll have to wait your turn.”

I stand behind her, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m trying my hardest to wait patiently while the old crow is terribly indecisive about what she’s going to order. 

Then I hear it. 

Hans. 

“No! No Hans. You can’t.”

The old bag turns around and I grab her by the shoulders. She starts to scream. Before I know it, I feel Billy with his hands on my shoulders. I hear the Butcher calmly, but loudly, telling him to get me out here. To give me some air. 

Billy drags me out. Once we’re out of the front door, he slaps me across the face. 

“What the hell are you thinking?” 

“This is bullshit. All these stupid rules. What the hell am I supposed to do here? Just watch it all happen?” 

“You had your spot in line. All you had to do was stand there and shut up.”

“I know, but if she-”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re still next. I just had to stop you before you did something really stupid.” 

I start to calm down a little bit, but I’m still a bit jumpy. I have to convince myself I’m doing what I can. I’m doing the right thing. 

“Thanks, Billy.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

It’s not just a turn of phrase. He means it. 

He goes back inside and I’m left there for what feels like forever. I was so close. Everything was going right. I have no idea what to do with myself. I bounce in place. 

The battleaxe I assaulted in the store finally comes out with her bags. She gives me a look as though she’s ready for round two, but keeps walking past me. Billy holds the door open for me, waving me in. I don’t like the look on his face. 

I go right for the Butcher. 

“How can I help you, Guy? You got something for me?”

“I’ll have it.”

“Oh, don’t disappoint me now.” 

“Do you have Hans? What’s he going to cost me?”

“Depends on the cut.”

“You know what I mean, you asshole. I want him unharmed.”

The Butcher smirks and leans over the counter. 

“You should have come here sooner.” 

“No. I-”

“I tell you what. Since you guys were friends,” The Butcher throws a slab of meat on the paper on the counter. “I’ll give you a discount.” 

I lose it. I lunge for the Butcher, but Billy catches me before I get the chance. 

“That’s two strikes, Guy. Don’t make a third,” The Butcher says, leaning over the counter. “It won’t end well for you.”

My jaw is clenched so hard I can’t speak. I want to kill him.

“If you’re not going to buy anything, you can leave. We’re done. Just give me what you owe. You’re going to get it, right?”

“You’ll get it.” 

“Good. Billy, let him go. I don’t want him to get too tough if he doesn’t pay up. Customers don’t like that.”