Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Al Luciano sat in the shadows that blanketed him in the 'Sacred Elephant Yoga Studio' stockroom. He could feel the heat from the shit he was in, and was trying to look as ashamed as he possibly could. His eyes were on the floor, and his posture was wretched. If only Al could appeal to his uncles sense of honor, perhaps he could buy some more precious time. Across the room from him, in a cloud of smoke, sat his cousin; lodged between two monsterous heavies that stood as still as statues with the same flinty qualities to their gaze.

"Uncle Frank, I really appreciate the loan that you fronted me, but I'm going to need some more time. I'm not getting as many clients as I thought I would with this thing, you understand. It turns out that female Yoga instructers are more appealing to both sexes, and I don't have enough on the payroll. I hate being in this position! I never want to owe anybody money, you understand...hey, do you mind putting the cigar out, by the way? I try to keep this a smoke free environment. I burn incense every morning, but there's only so much the scent can cover up."

"Let me tell you what I understand. I understand that there's a vig on this loan, and I've been giving you too much time to pay it. Let me help you understand now: you make me come here again like this and waste my time, and we're going to drop this uncle/nephew shit, and my friends Brother John, and Crazy Vic here are going to put their cigars out on your face. Don't fuck me Al. You've got two days to make things right. Then it goes to collections, and you go to some dump with a hole in the back of your head."

Uncle Frank was standing now, and shuffling his bulk towards the door. He had a lot of girth, but an aged gracefulness and awareness of himself, like one of those Golden Era Cinema crooks like Boris Karloff or Orson Welles. His goons slipped out first, and Frank hung back for a minute to throw a frightening smirk over his shoulder aimed in Al's direction.

"I want you know that you really missed a pretty heavy roughing up this time. If it didn't so happen that I liked your old man, then you'd probably be in an emergency room right now. Think it over, the next time you plan to disappoint me."

When Frank slammed the door, Al felt the reverberation through his whole body. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, and then dropped them down to his trembling hands. He had to calm his body down quick. There was another class in his studio in fourty five minutes, and he was the only teacher available to lead it. He stood up, and put his hands together in the beginning of a Vinyasa Yoga pose that would progress to one leg balancing on a knee, while his arms reached upwards in an attempt to mimick tree branches. He was thinking of introducing the class to Mudras today, and he needed the benefits of one of them now to align his spirit with his mind. He alternated back and forth between the Buddhi and the Shuni until he could hear people grunting outside, and the slapping sound that the rubbery mats made when they'd hit the polished floors. Al inhaled, and tried to put on his most beatific smile before he ran out onto the floor, and greeted the five or six clients who showed up with a booming 'Namaste', which was parroted back with equally rambunctious vigor. Al hooked his Cd player to the wall and found track three, before going into his spiel, and starting the guided meditation that was customary to his class. He tried not to look at the clock, and he tried not to think of his uncle. With considerable effort, Al stayed fixed in the present moment for the rest of his class. Julie Prio, a student that had been catching his gaze the past couple classes, shot him a quizzical look today as if she could tell that something was wrong with him. Al resisted the urge to gaze at her masterly shaped buns, and heavenly curves, and just winked at her dismissively as he pushed through the routine. He just wanted this day to be over without any distractions, despite her being one of his most tempting. After seeing his last client out the door, he bolted to the bathroom and vomited for twenty minutes. He still had no fucking clue what he was going to do about the money.

©

2018

Bunny Villaire

(To be continued...)