Over the past seven years Saul Jones had, by his own reckoning, taken the lives of twenty-one individuals. When the insurrectionists needed someone removed, Jonesy was one of the people they turned to.
His neighbor knew nothing of his occupation. They knew Saul Jones was a reasonably handsome bachelor in his early thirties who tended to be out late most nights but was always friendly and rarely drunk. Most of the tenants were aware on some level that he was a practicing Jew, and a handful were aware that he was proud of it.
His faith and his occupation caused some dissonance in Jonsey's mind, but he believed in both causes too strongly to forsake one for the other. When asked by his fellow insurrectionists how he was able to reconcile the murders he committed, his standard response was "I've never had a dull Yom Kippur."
Jonsey came in the front door of his apartment around 6:30 in the morning, just as his downstairs neighbor Lydia was sending her son Tommy off to school.
"Morning, Jonsey." said Tommy. The kid was twelve, perhaps thirteen by now.
"Mornin', big fella." he said. The alcohol from the previous night had left his system some time ago, restoring Jonsey to his normal, charismatic self. "Where's your mother?"
"Inside." Tommy jerked his head towards the open door to room 102.
Jonsey poked his head through the doorway. "Hey, how's my favorite shikza?"
"Good morning, Saul!" called Lydia from behind her kitchen counter. She stood up, holding an empty plastic container. Lydia Crown was a few years past thirty and had long brown hair. She'd been raising Tommy by herself since before Jonsey had moved in three years ago. Jonsey didn't know what Lydia did for a living, only that it was a government job. For her part, she though he was a Human Resources director in an up-and-coming organization (which Jonsey reasoned was a possible interpretation of his occupation). As for Tommy's father, Jonsey couldn't blame the guy for impregnating a woman like her, but he had a few choice words for anyone who'd force her to raise the kid alone. Apparently she'd kicked him to the curb after he knocked her up and then got himself locked up. Other men in Lydia's life was not a topic Jonsey was intent on pursuing.
"I see you're sending that fatherless boy off to school," said Jonsey, smiling. "When are you going to get that boy a good male role model?"
"I don't know, Saul. I guess he'll just have to settle for you in the meantime."
"You wound me, Miss!" Jonsey clasped his tattooed hands over his chest.
Lydia's bearing changed just enough for Jonsey to notice it. "Well, I think I should make it up to you. Does Friday sound good to you, perhaps around seven?"
So there it was. The invitation he'd kept himself from extending for more than a year now. She'd got tired of waiting and just thrown it out there herself.
Jonsey's cheeks darkened slightly and he averted his eyes. "I can't. I've got this big thing at work, this man-eater of a client. They don't know when he's coming in, just that it's sometime this week, and they'll kill me if I'm not there whenever he decides to mosey in."
Lydia's face fell. "Oh, right," she said. "Sorry." She shook her head as if answering an internal monologue.
The story wasn't a total lie. He did have a very important job later this week that he didn't have an absolute time slot for. Keyes had been adamant about it. But Jonsey realized how unlikely it must have sounded to Lydia. He decided that this was not the scenario he wanted.
"Can I get a raincheck, though? It's only Tuesday, this big guy may have come and gone by Friday night. Or maybe next week if he hasn't."
She hesitated, but only for a moment. "Okay, sounds good."
He smiled, and so did she. She glanced at the kitchen wall clock. "Hey, I've got to get to work, but I'll see you, right?"
"Oh, sure. I'll let you know about Friday night as soon as I can."
"Sounds good. I'll see you, Mister Jones."
"And I'll see you, Miss Crown."
As he climbed the steps to his room, Jonsey realized his heart was fluttering like a teenager's.
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