Twenty minutes later I was tapping my finger on the side of a coffee mug, trying to put together what sounded so familiar about Harbor Hill's story. Maki and I had grown up in similar contexts; both Little Tokyo and Chinatown had, when we were children, been the backdrops to a series of bloody, on-and-off gang wars. But by the time we were in our teens, they had stabilized into two of the safer neighborhoods in the city.
Harbor Hill on paper was nothing like Little Tokyo or Chinatown. It was larger than both combined, more populous, poorer, and far more ethnically diverse. The timeline was off too. In the late eighties and early nineties, a full decade prior to the Yakuza's and Triad's internecine wars, the neighborhood's criminal underworld suffered a total collapse. And rather than reach a new equilibrium in the over thirty years since, it had only remained in chaos.
"Can I ask why you wanted to know all this? I get you live here, but you do have your own gang problems to worry about."
"I must concur with Marianne, James. I hope you're not adding too much to your plate. You do recall that the Yakuza have expressed some interest in killing you."
There was no use explaining to Maki the difference between an invitation to fight potentially to the death versus an outright duel to the death, I thought. The priestess would not understand.
I looked at the women, confused and concerned by their ignorance. "They're all directly related to each other, aren't they? Most thugs aren't robbing and stealing on the blocks that they live in." I continued, seeing that they weren't quite following the logic. "Sure, they'll fight for territory to sell illicit drugs and services, but no one is snatching chains from their neighbors. Those people know where you sleep. Idiot kids aside, of course, no accounting for teenage stupidity."
Marianne frowned. "I wish that were true, but I've known plenty of people who've been robbed by fellow Hillers. I'd never say this to Darius and Shaun – I don't want the boys to fall into the wrong crowd – but a big reason I stay on this street is because Papes and his men keep the peace on the block. I mean, the people who tried to take Shania's groceries live in the Chauncy Projects, not ten minutes' walk from here."
I should have killed those two. Stealing food from neighborhood girls in broad daylight, they were worse than roaches, at least those would scatter when you turned on the lights. Chauncy Projects, eh? Maybe I'd stop by for a classic, Daredevil hallway fight scene against a mob of mooks—
The artificial sunbeams coming from the open door to the meditation chamber grew warmer upon my face. Kill them, what was I saying? As if wantonly cutting down a dozen dumbass petty criminals would do anything for the general safety in a neighborhood with four-hundred-thousand people in it.
"One sec."
I let the faux sun warm the back of my head as I turned to the Hakkotsu no Ha, still sitting innocently in my umbrella stand. There was no roll required to call it telekinetically to my hand, the white blade was all too eager to come.
I disrespectfully lobbed the wakizashi into the mediation chamber and slammed the door shut. "Sorry about that. Where was I?"
"Right, it's all related. Chauncy's ten minutes' walk away, right? Well Chinatown's a ten-, fifteen-minute bike ride. The Underworld is a delicate ecosystem – you literally cannot meaningfully change one neighborhood's balance of predators and prey without affecting every other, and not only those in Black Harbor or New Jersey. One of the instigating events before the last big gang war in our Chinatown was when the Tigers consolidated control of Manhattan Chinatown. It flooded Flushing Chinatown, Philly, and us with displaced shooters and veterans looking to reclaim lost face and territory."
I studied my black reflection in the coffee mug. In the dark brown tones of the cheap pre-ground bean juice, I was older, more Alan than James. "What's bothering me, is that the story makes sense to a point. The Haitians lose control of Harbor Hill in the early nineties, thus beginning a free-for-all for the neighborhood. The violence inevitably spills out, destabilizing Little Tokyo and Chinatown enough that by the late nineties cold wars start getting hot. Then, somehow, twenty-plus years later we've reached a point where almost every neighborhood in Black Harbor has seen huge improvements in violent crime rates except Harbor Hill? For God's sake, they're building condos in the Foundry! Luxury condos in the Foundry. So, thirty years ago, Harbor Hill was enough a part of the broader Underworld that war here could precipitate conflict across the city, but now the violence has no apparent effect outside its borders? Something must be happening to keep that the case."
Maki was skeptical. She alone out of us three had the luxury of growing up at a healthy distance from any gang violence. Well, my parents had tried their best, but Dad was a thief and Ma was Ma. They kept Crystal and me as clean as two people waist-deep in mud could.
"I'm not questioning your expertise in the Martial World, but don't you think that you're confusing correlation with causation? If the events were only tangentially related to begin with, then nothing has changed."
I shook my head. "That's plain ridiculous, I'm sorry. Listen, there's a square mile in Harbor Hill with sixty-six thousand people in it, and a lot of those people live exceptionally violent lives, kind of a self-perpetuating cycle sort of thing where they drag each other in. If I know one thing for certain, as sure as the sky is blue, there are some bad motherfuckers in that square mile."
"Maki," I tapped my temple, "think about everything you know about martial artists. If left alone, we will find reasons to fight each other. In thirty years, at least one real monster should have been able to claw themselves out and make a name for themselves, shake things up. But that hasn't happened; therefore, we are not being left alone."
"I," she quirked her head and grimaced, "don't have enough information to dispute your argument." With her body language she added, 'But, I'd like to.'
"Maybe that's a good reason to not stick your neck out," offered Marianne tentatively. "What do all these bad motherfuckers know, that you don't, right?"
Maki scoffed. "Don't bother. James's neck grows longer every time he has a heroic thought."
"Yeah…had to try though." Marianne was being careful with her expressions, holding back some opinion.
I could have made an Insight check, but it was much easier to ask. "What's on your mind? You're the local."
She mussed her hair and groaned. "Tell you the truth, James, I've been conditioned not to think too hard about the topic. It's always another tragedy, nothing ever changes – just sad, sad, sad, every day. I think a lot of us treat it like the weather, you can't do anything about it, but you try to keep an ear out for when it's best to stay inside."
A weariness settled upon her features, familiar to her I thought. It looked to be at home weighing on her, sagging her shoulders and gaze lower. Rather than aging her, it had a reverse effect, reminding me that she was only ten years older than me. At thirty-two, she was a young woman by most standards. It was unfair that she'd had to live so much life in so short a time.
"What you're saying makes enough sense to me though. When Shania was born, I used to be so jealous of Little Tokyo, and this was before the big renovations. The violence was as bad as the Hill, but it almost never touched innocent people, the Yakuza kept it to themselves for the most part. I used to think, 'What the fuck is wrong with us that we can't do that?'"
Hopelessness did not become Marianne. "I'm going to change that," I said. "At the very least, it will be safe to walk around Harbor Hill during the day. That's an achievable goal for me, and I'm going to make it happen. It'll make it much safer for me as well. The more secure the Hill is, the less likely outside gangs are to launch an assault in the neighborhood."
She didn't believe me, but I could tell that she wanted to. "Not having to cling to my teenage son when I want to do my laundry would be nice. There are some items of clothing I'd rather he didn't see me cleaning. I'll help however I can to make that a reality."
"Thanks. It's nothing dangerous, and I'll make it up to you however I can. You have a lot of family in the neighborhood, right?"
"That's the only reason we still live here."
"I want you to ask around for me if that's not too much trouble. Tell them that James Li wants to know what the current state of affairs for the Harbor Hill crime scene is. Don't reach out to anyone you're uncomfortable with, of course."
Marianne let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "James, if I don't reach out to anyone I'm uncomfortable with, you aren't going to find out anything at all."
Maki explained for me, having followed along. "That's fine. He just wants the word out around the neighborhood that a powerful martial artist transplant is beginning to investigate its Underworld. Fox hunting, I assume, James."
"Yep, flush 'em out. First thing anyone interested is going to do is go to Papes', the information broker who knows me. I'm planning to have made a deal with him by the time that starts happening."
Marianne was startled. "Information broker? I thought he was a pimp."
"He is. Natural companions, those careers."
"Ah. Well, I can certainly ask around for you but," she smiled, returning to her mature, confident disposition, and asked, "what was that about making it up to me?"
"Hey, name your price. Anything for you, Marianne."
Her eyes flickered to Maki. She checked the time as nonchalantly as she could. "I should probably get going. I want to put together a sandwich for dinner, otherwise I end up getting fast food with the other girls. Walk me out?"
Maki pulled out her phone and conspicuously distracted herself with it as I got up to do so.
Marianne stopped at my door, leaning her back against it, and gave me a 'come hither' with lidded eyes. I did as she commanded and stepped in closer, pinning her against the door.
She draped her arms around my neck and just stared up in silence, a small, satisfied smile on her face. "I've been dreaming about you. Shania has too, I'm guessing."
"You still want me to…"
"Yes. I know it's a little weird, but I can't think of a better man. She needs someone to break her out of her shell, and we can't afford therapy."
"No need to justify it to me." I gestured with my head back to the living room. "I'm about to fuck my adopted sister – got no room to talk."
Marianne barked a laugh. "How could I forget, a ghost made you his heir after you rescued him from another evil ghost. My life's going to be a lot more interesting with you in it, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately."
"You're alright. It's been interesting for all the wrong reasons so far. Getting pregnant at fourteen sure wasn't boring, I can tell you that." Marianne rested her cheek against my chest. "Maki's nice, a bit sharp around the edges, but I'm glad she's looking out for you. You really think you two can fix Harbor Hill? It's a big place with a lot of problems."
"I know I can, and with a little help, I will. Speaking of, you've got me curious how I'm paying you for your part."
The nurse purred, and her hands began to travel across my sides and back. I got a mental picture of the network of scars left behind from my fight with the Egui as she did, her palm feeling different, slightly muted, to my scar tissue. "You mean for the extremely difficult job of texting my friends and family, and only the ones I'm still in regular contact with?"
"Shit, it'd take me half the day to do the same. I'd charge too."
"True, definitely going to be navigating a lot of 'you hitting that' conversations for the next few days." She pulled back away as best she could with our waists still pushed together and started to count off. "One, the boys are away on Friday so I told Shania she could have a sleepover with her best friend. They want to see a movie that ends after it's dark, think you could escort them to and back?"
"Sure. You want me to—"
Marianne held a finger to my lips. "Oop, stop right there. Shania's friend, Aminah, is from a very religious family. All I'm going to tell them is that I've arranged for the girls to have a neighbor escort them to and from the theater, and that I'm going to check that they're being good when I get back from work, a little after midnight. That's all I'll tell them because that's all I'm planning to know, got it?"
I nodded. "I'll keep them safe and make sure they have a good time."
"Thanks." She gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Personally, on an unrelated note, I think that having your first sexual experience with your best friend there for support would be empowering and sweet. And it would keep one of them from getting jealous of how far the other's been and rushing things to try and keep up. You got to watch out for that with shy girls."
"Completely unrelated, of course."
"Of course. And two, you start training pretty early – would it be alright if I start sending the boys over before school a few days a week for lessons? I worry about them."
"Sure," I shrugged. I liked teaching kids, that was no trouble at all. "Send them by whenever."
I got another kiss in reply, this one a bit longer than a peck. "Thank you so much." She hesitated and reached for the doorknob behind her. "I should get going for real now."
I caught her wrist. "Oh no you don't. No one starts to count off on their fingers if they only have two things to address. Let me hear that third request, Marianne. What can I do for you?"
"It was silly. I don't know if I'll even ever have time for it on my end."
"Great, I love silly shit. Let's hear it." She bit her lip and looked embarrassed. "Look, if it can't happen, it can't happen. No harm in throwing it out there though."
She sighed. "No judgment?"
"Do I need to fuck my adopted sister in front of you for you to believe me? Woman, the list of people I got the room to judge dwindles by the hour."
Marianne laughed. "Fine. There's this cocktail dress I bought right after my ex and I split up. I was depressed and splurged on it with my tax return. It's been years and I've never worn it. I was going to ask if you'd take me out somewhere to justify it." She added quickly, "But, it's honestly way too slutty for me to wear out anyway. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Oh my god. Did you think that would convince me not to agree? You're dress being too slutty, are you…kidding?"
She groaned, but I could tell I was winning. "Okay, bad argument. There's still timing—"
"Send me your schedule. Ah—" I put my finger to her lips. "Too late, I'm like a dog with a bone, Marianne. It's happening. I need to see this dress in action."
"You're a wanted man…"
I waved it off. "We'll go somewhere bougie downtown, get a hotel there. The Tigers are not running a spontaneous hit at the Ritz."
"…alright," she said in a quiet voice. "That does sound fun."
"It's a deal?"
Marianne pulled me down for another, longer, kiss goodbye.