Spice & Ice

Silence reconstructs from place to place. It’s like silence plays our roles depending on where we are. Vera Idalia stood still, looking around the lounge to collect her coat and boots. Two doors connected the lounge - one leading inside the bustling Asian restaurant, the other leading outdoors towards the lively streets. Her shift finished an hour ago, but it looked like they were not going to close anytime soon. She had decided to stay back to help the owner and her best friend, Aadiv. The restaurant she worked in as a cook served authentic Indian food with a wide variety of Asian cuisine - her area of expertise.

She met Aadiv during her final year in cookery classes. A rover by nature, moving from place to place to learn anything about culinary arts. His Indian ancestry helped him to understand spices, flavoring, and pickles. He was so obsessed with food that he sold everything back home, deciding to travel. According to him, it was an eye-opener. He did odd jobs at various restaurants gaining experience, also saving enough to go to culinary school.

And that was where she met him. As a foodie, She was intrigued by the uncomplicated concept of dishes with simple ingredients and their zest for making one so satisfied that it lifts the soul to another level. They found they shared similar tastes and gustation. Both had the same dream of opening a restaurant- a vision made true six months ago. Aadiv put all his savings and bought a former Italian restaurant, going out of business in the city of Milan - the capital of fashion and design. She invested whatever money she had from her part-time jobs, got a joint loan from the bank, and financed the restaurant. It was not easy to start anew in an establishment where it already housed enough Asian restaurants, but Aadiv’s unique knowledge of spices from India did the trick. Though they commenced with a rickety start, it turned out to be a unique eatery that sold varied flavors that selected not to just eat, but to make sure each customer left with a satisfied simile.

“Don’t forget your umbrella,” a steady voice reminded her as she was about to leave. Vera turned with a smile adorning her face, lifting the umbrella in her hand, “Already got it.”

“Take care on your way home,” He warned with a stern smile, “Remember to catch the train, not walk off romanticizing with the rain.” Vera rolled her eyes at his admonition to open the front door, finding that the insistent downpour had leveled down to drizzle. She smiled back, “Why? would you like to join me?” She teased. Aadiv frowned, “I would if not for...” he paused, opening the door he was leaning against sufficiently to reveal a full house eatery, with patrons still demanding food. She chuckled, “They’re all your’s” she waved bye, closing the front door, standing by the porch to tug open her umbrella.

"Life begins at Night,” a quote from one of her favorite novelists, made a lot of sense at that moment. The chilled air blew around her raising her mid-length hair. She lifted her head, gazing up into the black sky - of course, it was covered with dark clouds, threatening to break open anytime, but not once did the people around seem to be concerned about the showers. The cobbled streets lit up to their prime, and red lanterns hung along the streets, surrounded by bustling shops selling silks, leathers, and other tea shops. It was, without a doubt, an ethnic enclave with the oldest Chinese community in Italy. She turned left, peaking back into the window of her restaurant, where Aadiv was busy serving and entertaining the guests. She was glad they bought such a neat place without any nuisance, locals around were generous and quite humble.

As she made her way through the brightly lit streets surveying all the families and friends enjoying the evening meals, Vera remembered her own family. Being orphaned at 12, and transferred to a few adoptive homes, stirred her sadness. Added to the fact that she was unable to click with any of the new families. Her aloof, distant character often made it impossible to communicate with them. She preferred keeping to herself and was not interested in anything, but there was one element that called her - Food. The second family she moved to always had take-outs, mostly Asian cuisines. The distinct ethereal tastes made her conscious of many cookeries.

She was glad her interest finally flared at something, and she started to explore more of the other foods. Her last adoptive parents before she was finally free from the system were Chinese. Call it luck or fate; they owned a restaurant from where she learned a lot. It drew her interest more to cookery arts, which she decided to pursue. Walking towards the Metro service as her thoughts grew deeper on two other adoptive parents she had lived with. The other parents were not bad either, but life was more strained. Her images gradually dragged her to her birth parents. Their appearance came into her view for a second, sending her reeling into her past, “No!” she vehemently shook her head, trying to dispel the images of her family she didn’t want to remember.

“No, No, No...” she cursed out loud and started racing blindly into the narrow streets, wishing that only running could make her forget her former life to escape from her memories. She did not want to remember them. She had run away from everything and did not desire any of it. So lost in thought, She had made a blunder by taking the longer route home.

Usually, it took just 15 minutes by train to reach her apartment in Brera or twenty to thirty minutes by walk. That morning, the picture of her hometown was so scenic that she chose to walk, deciding to come back home by train as it was always late when she left. No one could have guessed, the day’s work would be more hectic than usual. It’s the weekend when everyone desired to stay out as long as possible. It would not have bothered her, but considering her oversight of missing the time, it was almost midnight by the time she had reached the deserted side of her route, Which she only uses when driving her bike.

Taking a deep breath she kept walking, sticking to the lights, and keeping a watch out for any unusual sounds. It was usually safe, but tonight with all the showers and not much of people milling around, giving the place an eerie feeling. The Gothic architecture adoring most buildings amplified the spooky feeling building up inside her. Quickening her steps; She was almost halfway through, cursing her absentmindedness when she suddenly heard gunshots.

Vera gulped, slamming herself back to the walls of the nearby building, taking a look around cautiously. There was no one around, but she was sure she heard them. She listened again and almost fainted when she saw two vehicles rushing towards her. The one at the front was a sleek Lamborghini Aventador, being chased by what looked like a camp jeep. Two or three men were leaning out of the Jeep windows and firing shots at the racing Lamborghini. The makers of the car would practically drop dead seeing the state of the multi-million dollar car, with its bright blue paint coming off, it was also missing a door. Just when she ducked into the alley behind her, the said car skidded against a bumper flew into the air about a few meters, landed on its sides, rolled a few times, and came to a stop right next to the alley she was hiding.

‘Talk about coincidence,’ Vera cursed silently, sliding behind the dumpster. The driver’s door kicked open, and someone crawled out, slumping down near the wheel and wheezing for air. His suit was bloodied and torn, pieces of glass stuck in his arms and face. Though he was wounded, He leaned back- alert and ready, waiting for the people from the other Jeep to come near him. That’s when Vera realized he had a gun hidden behind him. Vera couldn’t see his features, which were showered with grit and blood.

Her heartbeats were jittery, and listening to the sounds of boots approaching, made Vera more agitated, praying her tremulous sounds wouldn’t give her away. It was silent for a few seconds. Unable to bear her curiosity, she peeked and counted five hooligans surrounding him. None moved except staring at him. One of them was speaking on the phone, “Yes! Sir, He is right here.”

He listens for a second, “Okay! It’s done.” He pockets the phone back, “Looks like you are out of luck, Mr. Alviso, Our boss wants you dead.”

He took out his gun and aimed at him while others did the same. “Oh my God! Oh my God!...” panicked Vera. She did not know the guy, but it did not mean she couldn’t help him. She stood scared like hell but was not going to allow someone to die right in front of her. Searching her bag, she silently took the foldable pikestaff she always carried around. It was a gift from Aadiv on her last birthday. The staff’s actual length was around five feet, but it can be folded in three’s which fits perfectly into her handbag. All she had to do was position it back to its original size using a hard thrust. She thanked God she had the sense not to refuse her friend when he compelled to teach her a few self-defense techniques from his native land.

As she crept slowly forward, the injured man looked in her direction, his eyes narrowed at her stick, and shook his head. Vera blinked, ’Was he warning her not to come? ‘What an idiot,’ she thought. The man with the gun got closer and aimed at his head. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the injured man shot him in the head, and a second later, shot the other man right behind the leader. He was too fast, the thugs were surprised by the first shot but recovered as soon as he shot the second hooligan. Before they fired, Vera jumped into action, She held her stance and thrust the stick right in the middle of two hooligans, parried left and then right between their legs side by side. The move hit their shins making them lose balance, yelling out.

The distraction provided enough time for the injured man to shoot the last hooligan standing. The move shocked Vera, “Did you have to kill them?” she gasped.

The injured man gave her an exasperated look, aiming the gun at the two other hooligans she had injured. “No, wait...” before she could finish, he fired without remorse. The cold look in his eyes made her bones freeze, her breath was coming in short gasps as he aimed the gun right at her. ‘What had she done? Did she save the wrong guy?’ As soon as the thought rang out, she backed away shocked, ‘What if the guys he volleyed were the good ones when in reality, he is the Devil?’

The frightened look on her face seemed to amuse him, as he let out a short laugh. Vera saw red, “You stop making fun of me,” She yelled pointing to the end of the staff at his face.

The injured man snickered moving her staff away from his face, “Help me up,” he commanded. Vera fumed, ‘Even when he is down, he just commands.’

“Stop cursing me in ur’ head and help me up,” The dark look in his eyes was all Vera needed to drop her stick, rushing to help him to lean back in the front seat of his car. Assisting him to remove his coat, made her lean forward, her face inches from his own. So close their breathing interlaced, she smelt his cologne and frowned, ‘Why does it smell so familiar?’ Looking into the dark grey eyes, she froze remembering him. His eyes flashed recognizing her as well, “You...?” he spat.

“Holy Shit!” Vera gasped, backing away from him.

“You...You stop...right there,” He barked trying to get out of the car, holding on to his injury. His breath came up short as he was losing a lot of blood. He could hear the sounds of other cars rushing up toward them. “Finally...” he breathed, and his men were able to reach him, ‘Now he only had to make her stay long enough for his men to capture her.’

Vera’s eyes widened when she recognized the sounds of many cars reaching them - No doubt his backup. ‘Damn it!’ She cursed, picking up her staff, and calculated the chances of her escape without getting caught by his men.

“You cannot escape this time,” he snickered. Vera started hyperventilating. With the mounting tension, she did the one thing she never dreamed of doing to a man as powerful as the one standing before her. She raised her staff and pushed her wrists forward striking hard on his head, enough to wack him to take a short nap. If not for the seriousness of the situation, She would have had a hearty laugh seeing the stunned expression on his face, as he slid down the sidewalk unconscious.

Vera immediately backed up towards the alley and ducked back against the dumpsters she had hidden earlier. And just as she hoped, his men ganged up on him in a protective stance, clearing the area of all the bodies in a matter of minutes, leaving without a trace.

Vera sighed, leaving after waiting a few more minutes to be on the safer side. She reached her apartment ten minutes later, bolting her door and rushing to bathe immediately, hoping not to be plagued by the nightmare from seven months ago.