Maria sat in Louis' study trying to finish reading, Sense and Sensibility. Solono stuck his head in the study and said, "I'll be in the barn."
Earlier that day, Solono had broken into Louis' desk where he kept all his important documents and found the home address for Michael. He went to the barn and grabbed a sickle with a five-inch blade that the landscapers used to cut grass. After surveying it, he put it in the inside pocket of the well-worn blue jean jacket he was wearing. To stay stealth, he waited until the sun had set and started his journey on foot towards Michael's home.
During the ten-mile walk he passed cottages with rusty steel roofs. Children inside the dimly lit homes laughed and played and that reminded him of his childhood. At one home a young boy around the age of five or six sat on the front porch throwing rocks at a tree. The boy's father exited the home to announce it was time for supper. Reaching for his father's hand, the boy entered the cottage. As the father closed the door, he and Solono made eye contact. The man grabbed a long black shotgun that rested on the porch and firmly shut the door.
After forty-five minutes of walking in the hot, humid, air, he reached Michael's home. A light was on, music played and there was chatter with the occasional giggle. He grabbed the doorknob, turned it softly, and was surprised that it was unlocked. Quietly, he stepped into the front room. The door squeaked but was drowned out by the music. Solono was sure that the old wooden floors would squeal with every step, so he stayed put a few seconds.
While eavesdropping on the conversation he could clearly hear what the chatter was. Michael had another young lady in the kitchen and had prepared a dish for her.
"The dinner was delightful, Michael," she said.
"Thank you. My grandmother taught me that recipe hoping one day that I'll pass it on to my children," Michael said.
"I can't believe this piece of shit!" Solono thought.
Before he could get his thoughts together, Solono found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Michael's eyes grew large and he dropped his fork. He leaped from his chair with his skin as pale as a ghost.
"Sit back down Michael! There is no need to be alarmed." Solono said.
Michael froze.
Solono glanced at the young lady sitting across from Michael. "What is your name young lady?"
"Margret Blanco," she said, looking at Michael, then Solono.
"The Blanco's who own the cornfield about five miles up the road?" "Y es."
"You come from a wonderful family, Margret. Do you know what Michael had in store for you?"
Solono looked at Michael.
"Michael, be ever so kind and interrupt me if at any point I'm incorrect. Will you please?"
Solono slowly walked around the table and stood behind Michael while gently massaging his shoulders.
"Relax, Michael. You seem very tense! There is no need to be. Did you invite Margret over this evening for ropa vieja? Did you tell her you got the recipe from your grandmother?"
Margret looked at Michael, frowning.
"Do you plan to give Margret the same surprise you gave my sister?"
By this time Michael's brain was racing. He knew why Solono was there. He knew, especially with Solono standing directly behind him, he was defenseless. Only option that he could think of was to blurt out his side of events.
"She wanted it!" Michael yelled.
"She wanted what?" said Solono.
"She wanted me. Why else would she come to my house?"
"No, Maria did not want you. That's what 'No, get the fuck off me' means."
Margret sat quietly as she began to realize that Solono was not there for her but for Michael. She still wasn't a hundred percent sure if she was completely out of danger.
Solono's grip became a little tighter as Michael frowned in discomfort. He clenched Michael's hair in his fist, pulled the blade out of his jacket pocket and slowly cut his throat from ear to ear. Margret screamed.
"I need you to be silent," Solono said.
Michael's lifeless body slumped over the plate of food he had prepared. A river of blood flowed to the floor and towards Margret.
"Margret, I know your family. They are very good, hard-working people. Michael did something he was not supposed to do. I saved you from something horrible. Please trust me. You are free to go, but don't utter a word about this to anyone. Do you understand?"
Margret nodded.
"Goodbye. Be more careful who you have dinner with." Margret darted out the front door into the darkness.
He raised Michael's head from the plate that it rested on and gazed in Michael's lifeless eyes. After a moment, he stabbed Michael repeatedly.
"You hurt someone, you pay," Solono whispered.
He made his way back towards the Presidential Palace by taking back roads to stay undetected, but instead of going inside, he headed towards the barn. Off in the corner near the skylight on the upper level was a small bundle of hay. It was peaceful for him to lie there and stare at the stars, listening to the animals below. He curled into the fetal position on top of the hay and burst into tears.