Antonio's concern for me is touching but it’s cost me long seconds. As I emerge, blinking against the sunlight, Wonder Boy has vanished.

Fuck!

Have I lost him?

I spin, scanning all around, seeking my quarry, ignoring the curious stares of passers-by…

… The line of parked cars…

Doorways…

… along the block…

… the other side of the street…

Zip. Nada…

Then, sprinting across the street, dodging the traffic, I make it to the corner: the clothes store I used as my lurking spot when I first came here.

How long did he hold me up?

Twenty seconds?

Thirty?

How far can the bastard have gone?

Then, I see him again, tall against the crowd.

He emerges from the next door along from Antonio’s, a small hair-salon-cum-barber-shop. Shoving something into his pocket, he turns my way…

The clothing store?

It appears Santa Claus is doing his rounds, collecting his gifts from all the little boys and girls on his list, regardless of whether they’re naughty or nice.

myself to wait, watching the

the people… Own

looking through the plate glass windows, I see him inside,

he has her trapped, enclosed between his chest and arms, and the wall. Even from here, I can see the

looking down on her, moving in on her space as he cages her with his body. But it’s different between them; easily seen for the game it really

…and accept…

… the rules.

is the real

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

ever took my daughter down, she was nine months pregnant. Even then, it took two strong men and a hypo of tranquilizer

from Wonder Boy, making for the counter, Stabbing at the

to

just try to intimidate someone who knows

smirk

It’s not the time…

adding it to my list of To-Dos: Teach Asshole

he re-emerges, again stuffing his

Always the pocket…

the

his next stop: a tobacconist a couple of

charm, but both he and the girl serving fall silent as I point to the first brand I recognise… “Vinte, por favor. E um isqueiro…” … push the coins at her, then, pocketing a packet of twenty and

packet, unravelling the plastic wrap, taking one out then, as I’m about to light up, Wonder Boy reappears. He doesn’t even

letting him get a little distance as I slip the cigarette back into the pack, when I realise there’s a beggar, rheumy-eyed, standing beside me, holding his hand out,

in the breeze. The beggar inhales deeply, smoke drifting from his nostrils, then

“My pleasure...” …

Shit!

Where is he?

nowhere in sight,

Have I lost him?

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