Premier Paso: La Paliza

                                        

                                              
Malcolm's mother was insisting he be home schooled and somehow he didn't even find it in him to argue over it. What the hell would he need with schooling right now? How in the devil's pointy beard would knowing how to geometrically determine the angle of a triangle help him avenge Adrianna's murder? Unless he was resorting to killing them with his impressive intellect, it was going to be a miserable waste of his time. The Barrio Boys thought it was too but Carlitos threatened them into compliance. And when Malcolm tried to complain to his mentor gangster the man shut him up with a snide comment.
                              
"Don't act like a dick, it won't make yours any bigger." Carlitos hissed and shoved the young man down into his seat to study.
                              
So in the daytime Malcolm duked it out with chemistry and maths, learning as much english from his television as he did from the books. His mother made ruthless use of Adrianna's old school books and every class was a silent torture as he saw her doodles in the margins, her scent lingering in the pages of her favourite book.
                              
But he never gave into the grief curled tightly inside him, blunted by the numbness that filled him nearly all of the time. Even his first hangover had been anticlimactic. He felt like battered hell but after throwing up and drinking a pot of coffee, he got on with his day. You did what you had to do, so suck it up and stop bitching, it was quickly becoming Malcolm's personal mantra.
                              
"You're going to have to be aware of everything around you. We'll take it simple at first, a little walk through the market. Then you'll tell me what you saw and what you can remember. Use all your sense, not just your sense of smell. And I want you to focus on the people as much as the things around you." Carlitos instructed. The street tough own Malcolm's nights until the moon set.
                              
The lack of sleep had Malcolm developing a disturbing caffiene habit, where he was always drinking those boosted drinks and coffee. And Malcolm was glad for the distractions to keep him awake because when he slept he remembered and that was always heart wrenching. He felt it was better to forgo all emotions to avoid bearing the weight of his grief and his silent stillness took away his laughter.
                              
Walking through the market Malcolm saw the bright white of a freshly washed and hand made blusa, probably the first time the girl wore it and a date. The fading odor of the morning fish still fermented the air, competing with the tang of olives and the musk of oil and garlic. His nose crinkled when he caught a lungful of cigar smoke, still not willing to inflict that slow death by toxin on himself. Though he had the feeling that his liver would soon hate him so much, but that was an issue he might not live long enough battle. The lifespan of Spain's Barrio Boys was often is months not years.
                              
 His mouth watered when the smell of grilled meat and vegetables drifted past his nose and with a soft grin, Carliots bought the young man a few kabobs of beef and chicken, anything to shut up the growling monster that was a pubescent male's stomach growls. It sounded like a honey badger and a ground hog trying to fight in a backpack. His mentor had him explain all these little observances to him as they walked around and he wondered what the point of this day's lesson was supposed to be. He already knew to be aware of the things going on around him. He knew where all the escape routes in a place were and could peg a possible threat from quite some distance, most of the time he just kept that awareness off of his face. It's not hard to be overlooked when you're a fourteen year old who looks like he doesn't have the softest clue. Instead he had a razor sharp intelligence and a burning need to do something drastic to break the pain inside.
                              
It was a Friday night and although it was rather late, the streets were teeming with people, most of whom gave the two men a circle of space, the lines of worry and fear marking their faces. Carlitos laughed without humor when Malcolm remarked on that.