knocking her over
everything she was carrying goes flying
she is dirty, hair matted, faced rough and scarred from living on the street, but with a strange softness in her eyes
she immediately starts grasping for her few precious belongings as the man apologises
the woman doesn't even acknowledge him just frantically tries to save what she can
the man realized that she lacks the skills to interact in a normal fashion
the man wonders if it is the cause of her life on the streets or the result of it
he tries to chase down some papers that are blowing farther from the woman
some newspaper clippings and pictures, possible insights into this woman's past
his curiosity is peaked, and his humanly compassion is raised
He offers to buy the woman a hot meal, and give her a break from the bitter winds
she is standing
That's just what we're looking for.
as the crowd parted just enough for him to glimpse the person on the ground he knew instantly
it was his father, laying there, crumpled in an unnatural fashion, blood everywhere, his eyes looking empty
the man ran to his father screaming, call an ambulance, tears pouring without effort
he quickly cradled his father's head, crying, "Dad I'm here, were going to get you some help.
Jeremy walked down the busy Miami street unaware of anything or anyone surrounding him.
The pending meeting, a career marker or breaker, consumed his thoughts.
He rounded the corner and found a woman in his arms.
As Jeremy stepped away mumbling “sorry’ the woman slumped to the cold hard sidewalk. Blood soaked the front of her white silk blouse. A knife protruded from her stomach.
Screams erupted “Oh my god, he killed that woman.”
Jeremy looked around for the killer and realizes it was him the crowd was staring at. “No, no,” he muttered.
He sat in the seedy hotel. His face, grainy with a green tint to it, stared at him from the old tv.
“Why had I run?” He muttered. Because that was what street kids do, he told himself.
The victim was Karla Maria Santia, the daughter of a powerful drug cartel boss.
Jeremy has the Santia family hunting for him as well as the police. With no where to go, he returns to the golden triangle and the housing project he fought so hard to leave behind. He must trust his father - an alcoholic and retired second rate boxer - and his brother - just released from prison. Tension is high between the three as past hurts and betrayals run deep.
Samuel, his brother, sees this as his chance to screw Jeremy into ground.
“Where were you when mommy was sick and needed her meds? Sitting in some fancy high raise, while I was scrapping, hustling, stealing or whatever it took to get them for her and now you tell me it was my path to choice.”
Samuel set’s up Jeremy sacrifice but realizes that he can’t go through with it. “Just once I wanted mommy to look at me with the pride in her eyes that was there when she talked about you.”
Jeremy looks at brother and then over the courtyard. Two small children play on the sidewalk outside the open door of their apartment while their parents cook meth inside. Without looking at Samuel, “I went to see her at the end when she was in the hospital. Late one night knowing you and pappie would be gone. She spit on me. Told me to leave that she only had one son - Samuel. No son of hers would turn his back on the family.” Jeremy turns to look at Samuel, “that wasn’t pride in her eyes you saw, it was disgust. She told me that night one day I would find myself alone in the world needing help. She told me I would come back to you and pappie and that you would help me because you were a good boy - you knew what it meant to be family.”
They stand in silence for a minute, “no ____ she spit on you?”
The Santia family grabs pappie - a fair deal - a family member for a family member. The debit is cleared. They call off the cops, Jeremy is cleared.
Samuel assumes Jeremy has returned to his life, leaving him to do something about pappie. He is going to try to exchange his life for pappie’s when Jeremy returns. He explains to Samuel he used some of his ‘old’ contacts and has a devised a way to try and get pappie back.
You go right ahead and dominate, Gracie.
Impressive! Terrific twists, too!
He's looking to the left, watching a well dressed woman in spike heels and a business suit, as he makes the corner to the right.
He runs into a woman, about 5 foot 4, well dressed but no spike heals - nice shoes, but not Manolos.
He almost knocks her over. As he reaches out to prevent her from falling, she reaches out to grab the bundle of books in her arms. The books fall anyway, and his hands end up where they shouldn't.
She stands upright immediately, the books forgotten, and, placing her hands on her hips, gives him a look of pure disgust.
"Can't you be more careful?" she says.
He blushes completely red, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He's not sure if she is talking about the collision, or the near term aftermath. Or both.
"I was looking - just not exactly where I was going."
She looks around, sees the woman in spike heels walking away from them in the direction he his his was turned when he made the corner.
"Yes, I can see that." If anything, this comment was more cold than the first.
"Look", he said, picking up her books and hoping to draw her attention away from his previous object of attention, "I'm sorry. I don't normally go around knocking over girls."
"Or around, I hope", she said.
"As in, I hope you don't go around knocking girls around." She paused for moment, while his jaw dropped, "Or women either. We are WOMEN, you know, not 'girls'."
"Or," she said, continuing her thoughts further down THAT road, "even up. Although, it does seem unlikely you'll get that particular opportunity, given your obvious lack of social graces."
Starting to get a little hot under the collar, and forgetting where they stood (women do that to men, you know) he said, "Look, it was an accident. I'm sorry. Here are your books." His mouth tight, he started to walk away, shaking his head in dismay and disbelief - at both his running into her, and her response.
He stopped dead in his tracks, his immediate acquiescence to her peremptory command testimony to his off balance state. Yet he didn't turn around - he just stopped.
So, alright, this is really a scene, not an outline. But as I wrote it, I expanded the story in my mind around the idea that the woman is lesbian, but not particlarly angry toward men. Just unwilling to put up with any BS. He, OTOH, is definitely hetero, and while the woman is not conventionally beautiful, her directness and obvious intelligence are very attractive to him. He thinks that she just hasn't met the right guy yet, and imagines himself as the right guy to save her from - from whatever has gone wrong in her life that she finds women more attractive than men. OTOH, he understands HOW she finds other women attractive, because women are very much attractive to him.
For her part, she gets caught up in his friendship, even though she recognizes and understands his complicated and mostly hidden (from himself) motivations. His genuine admiration for her is seductive.
And seduction is very much an integral part of the relationship. But not an obvious seduction - they find themselves in roles in which one will be dominant, the other submissive, and then, without warning, the roles will switch, sometimes without obvious change. One of them will be dominant, and then the other will begin to exert control from the supposedly submissive role. Their relationship will undergo many such reversals, each one leading to a greater understanding of what it is to be IN a relationship.
I don't know if they ever resolve her sexual orientation. Maybe she's bi, maybe not. I think the story is stronger if she sticks to her lesbian guns, and mourns the lack of attraction to men that she just can't find, even for the men who find HER attractive. Maybe he grows, and realizes that friends are friends, and sex is just icing. I don't know.