For years after the event, people wondered why a lowly cleaning maid, one of a cheerfully ignorant contenance, would turn on her master, an elite killer of professionals. Why she so foolishly threw away her life was thought that perhaps she tired of a life of manual labor and abject poverty. She had no friends. No one cried when she died. Only the man who bribed her would ever know why she did it.
The Hit
The Mendez family sat down at the dining table loaded with a fabulous spread of meats, salads, roast potatoes, exotic fruits and various colorful drinks in pitchers. Momma Mercedes sat at one end of the table, the two little kids Hannah and Peter sat beside each other in the middle, with pappa Mendez at the other end. It was unusual for them to be together at dinnertime, especially with pappa Mendez so involved in his social affairs.
Mendez, the most notorius and intelligent drug boss to take control of the Columbian cocaine trade since the collapse of the Cali cartel, normally spent his evenings being entertained out on the town or in his jaccuzzi by a bevy of young women he referred to as his 'kittens'. Both his family and business were second thoughts and nothing that didn't resemble the shape of a coke bottle could hold his attention for long. He had long messy dark hair, a skinny frame and wore gaudy colorful clothes in the loose, baggy style common among the people of the area. Only at night did he take off his sunglasses. A mess of black curly hair poked out over the edge of his shirt at the base of his neck.
"We're almost done, please wait a moment." Mabel was one of two hispanic maids who worked in the cottage doing all the chores required of them. Mabel was in her 20's, was thin and had a long dark braid going all the way her back. She usually went back to her family's home at night if allowed some time off, unlike Rosalyn, the second maid with the fat cheeks which gave her a permanent look as though she were upset or about to breakdown and cry. Rosalyn was middle-aged and pudgy with stubby fingers made rough from a life of labor.
Mendez was usually quiet around his family, but not always. The cocaine he snorted frequently throughout each day brought on all kinds of moods. He swung from being exceedingly kind to his family and workers one day to exploding in violent anger at seemingly nothing at all the next. Family relations were understandably icy considering pappa Mendez's unrestricted socializing habits, so they sat in silence waiting for the maids to finish preparing the meal.
While waiting for her mushroom suffle to finish cooking, Rosalyn stared out the window across the coca fields to the north of the cottage and at the coffee plantations on the low lying hills beyond. The gentle green hills covered in the little coffee bean trees with a background of the setting sun took her mind of her work. She wished she was a child again without a worry in the world and could play in the trees and... Ding! The stove timer indicated her suffle was done. She put on the kitchen mits and carried the orange colored glass pot to the table and put it on the little flowery mat next to pappa Mendez, silently praying that the suffle would not collapse before being served which might ignite his anger again. She took the lid off and saw with relief that the suffle had come out just right.
Bored with waiting, little 4 year old Hannah fidgeted with the pillow from her chair and held it over her face. Her innocent brown eyes peeked over the edge of the pillow and she proclaimed, "Smells like pus-sy."
Mercedes gasped and yelled at Mendez, "Did you hear that? That's because of you using such filthy language around the children. They're gonna grow up to be f*cking perverts or something if you don't stop it!" Mercedes was a hard woman of thirty years of age. She had put up with all kinds of abuse from Mendez, even being beaten on occasion, bruising her pretty tanned face. It was a mystery why she would stay married to such a callous man as he.
"You looking to get messed up again?" Mendez was slouched back in his chair resting his hairy forearms on the light blue tablecloth.
Mercedes sighed and looked away.
Mendez was in one of his foul moods. "If you don't like it here you can pack your bags and get lost." He looked at Hannah and said, "And you can go too if you don't like the smell of the pillows."
Mendez picked up a spoon next to his plate and took a scoop of the suffle which caused it to collapse. In an instant, he stood up, put his hands on the corners of the table and heaved it over to the side where no one was sitting. The splendid array of food avalanched off the table and onto the floor while the maids froze in shock.
"This is why I always go out for dinner. Damn maids might be good at cleaning but they can't cook worth beans." And he walked out of the room, slamming his heels into the wood floor in case anyone had any doubt about him being angry.
The Hit
The Mendez family sat down at the dining table loaded with a fabulous spread of meats, salads, roast potatoes, exotic fruits and various colorful drinks in pitchers. Momma Mercedes sat at one end of the table, the two little kids Hannah and Peter sat beside each other in the middle, with pappa Mendez at the other end. It was unusual for them to be together at dinnertime, especially with pappa Mendez so involved in his social affairs.
Mendez, the most notorius and intelligent drug boss to take control of the Columbian cocaine trade since the collapse of the Cali cartel, normally spent his evenings being entertained out on the town or in his jaccuzzi by a bevy of young women he referred to as his 'kittens'. Both his family and business were second thoughts and nothing that didn't resemble the shape of a coke bottle could hold his attention for long. He had long messy dark hair, a skinny frame and wore gaudy colorful clothes in the loose, baggy style common among the people of the area. Only at night did he take off his sunglasses. A mess of black curly hair poked out over the edge of his shirt at the base of his neck.
"We're almost done, please wait a moment." Mabel was one of two hispanic maids who worked in the cottage doing all the chores required of them. Mabel was in her 20's, was thin and had a long dark braid going all the way her back. She usually went back to her family's home at night if allowed some time off, unlike Rosalyn, the second maid with the fat cheeks which gave her a permanent look as though she were upset or about to breakdown and cry. Rosalyn was middle-aged and pudgy with stubby fingers made rough from a life of labor.
Mendez was usually quiet around his family, but not always. The cocaine he snorted frequently throughout each day brought on all kinds of moods. He swung from being exceedingly kind to his family and workers one day to exploding in violent anger at seemingly nothing at all the next. Family relations were understandably icy considering pappa Mendez's unrestricted socializing habits, so they sat in silence waiting for the maids to finish preparing the meal.
While waiting for her mushroom suffle to finish cooking, Rosalyn stared out the window across the coca fields to the north of the cottage and at the coffee plantations on the low lying hills beyond. The gentle green hills covered in the little coffee bean trees with a background of the setting sun took her mind of her work. She wished she was a child again without a worry in the world and could play in the trees and... Ding! The stove timer indicated her suffle was done. She put on the kitchen mits and carried the orange colored glass pot to the table and put it on the little flowery mat next to pappa Mendez, silently praying that the suffle would not collapse before being served which might ignite his anger again. She took the lid off and saw with relief that the suffle had come out just right.
Bored with waiting, little 4 year old Hannah fidgeted with the pillow from her chair and held it over her face. Her innocent brown eyes peeked over the edge of the pillow and she proclaimed, "Smells like pus-sy."
Mercedes gasped and yelled at Mendez, "Did you hear that? That's because of you using such filthy language around the children. They're gonna grow up to be f*cking perverts or something if you don't stop it!" Mercedes was a hard woman of thirty years of age. She had put up with all kinds of abuse from Mendez, even being beaten on occasion, bruising her pretty tanned face. It was a mystery why she would stay married to such a callous man as he.
"You looking to get messed up again?" Mendez was slouched back in his chair resting his hairy forearms on the light blue tablecloth.
Mercedes sighed and looked away.
Mendez was in one of his foul moods. "If you don't like it here you can pack your bags and get lost." He looked at Hannah and said, "And you can go too if you don't like the smell of the pillows."
Mendez picked up a spoon next to his plate and took a scoop of the suffle which caused it to collapse. In an instant, he stood up, put his hands on the corners of the table and heaved it over to the side where no one was sitting. The splendid array of food avalanched off the table and onto the floor while the maids froze in shock.
"This is why I always go out for dinner. Damn maids might be good at cleaning but they can't cook worth beans." And he walked out of the room, slamming his heels into the wood floor in case anyone had any doubt about him being angry.
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