Chapter 8

Matilda leaned against the bedroom door jamb with her arms folded and her ankles crossed. She surveyed Leon, sitting Indian-style on the floor with his back against the bed. Next to him lay the open weapons suitcase and his cleaning materials. He cleaned every millimeter of the pistol in his lap, piece by piece, inside and out. His extra care told Matilda it was the one used in the alley and the Russian's apartment. When done, he placed it in the suitcase and retrieved another pistol. Matilda knew he was going to clean and oil all his weapons. This was Leon's solitary time.

Matilda shrugged and left him alone. They had not spoken about what transpired in the Russian's apartment and it was apparent to Matilda they never would.

She wandered around the apartment, humming and patting her thighs to the beat. Spotting a comic book on the kitchen counter, Matilda brought it to the table and plopped into a chair. She had read it many times before and soon finished it. Then she played with the yo-yo. She felt close to her dead brother when she played with it. Not as much as when she held his bear, but the bear was on the bedroom dresser and she knew not to disturb Leon. Matilda smiled knowing it would be right-side up. But her smile faded and her brow furrowed. She turned towards the bedroom and stared, not focused on anything as thoughts flashed through her mind -- fragmented thoughts, confusing thoughts.

Glancing up at the clock, Matilda jumped. It was late. She scurried around the kitchen preparing dinner. She threw on a couple of steaks and baked two potatoes. When the food was ready, she peered into the bedroom. Leon was sitting on the floor leaning against the side of the bed. The suitcase was closed and put away. He just sat there staring at nothing.

"Dinner's ready," she said only loud enough for him to hear.

Leon's head slowly turned. He stared at her with a vacant expression. And then he became more focused. He seemed to want to tell her something. However, all he did was nod and stand. Matilda waited at the door, but Leon brushed by her without saying a word. He went to the kitchen and sat in his usual seat. Matilda followed and served dinner.

They ate in silence.

After the kitchen was cleaned up, Matilda went into the living room. Leon was on the couch. He looked up when she entered.

"Did he hurt you?" Leon asked.

"Yes. He pinched my nipple and hurt my butt. And he, um, choked me. I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die."

"Come here." He patted the couch cushion next to him.

Matilda sat down, leaning forward with her forearms on her thighs. Leon tapped her on the back. She turned with a tilted head. His arm was in the air. Matilda studied his face and then leaned back, snuggling against his side with her head on his chest. His arm lowered around her and held her tight. They remained like that for a couple of minutes, and then his fingertips caressed her arm. Matilda listened to Leon's heartbeat, the only sound in the room.

Matilda broke the silence. "Why didn't you tell me what was going to happen?" Leon's hand stopped and she felt him stiffen.

"It was not supposed to be like that."

"But--"

"Shush."

"But--"

"Shush." Leon hugged Matilda's body to his. "It went wrong. Why must we talk about it?"

Matilda lifted her head, but Leon cupped it with his hand and guided it back to his chest.

"No more," he said. "We are done talking about it. It is over."

Leon's hand slid lower, his fingertips teasing Matilda's cheek with a tender touch. She snuggled closer to his body and sighed. His fingertips moved all over the side of her face, and when they touched her lips she snatched one finger into her mouth. She sucked it like a baby on her mother's teat. Leon held it there for a while and then moved his hand to her shoulder, sliding it down her body until it settled on her little tit. Matilda sighed again and pushed her chest out against his palm.

"I'm sorry he hurt you," Leon said while moving his hand in a circle. Her nipple stiffened. "I will take care of you."

"Do you love me?" Matilda asked.

Leon's hand stopped moving. "Love?"

"Yes, love." Matilda was tempted to twist her head and look at Leon's face but she forced herself to stare forward. Her eyes darted from side to side.

"I have never loved anyone?" he said.

"What about your parents?"

"I never knew my father."

"But you loved your mother."

"She was a prostitute. She did not love me so I did not love her."

"I hated my family ... all except Bobby. I loved him. I once loved my mother but she ran out on me."

"She did not."

Matilda's head shot up and turned. "What do you mean?"

Leon hesitated and then said, "Your father killed her."

Matilda wrenched from his grasp and backed away, now sitting straight-backed. "What?! How would you know that?"

"Freddie told me."

"How would he know?" She stared at Leon incredulously.