Mr. Dickerson goes on a date

Mr. Dickerson goes on a date

A short story by Patrick Rijnders

(c) 2003/2004

It was two months ago when Mr. Chon, proprietor of Mr. Chon's Noodle Plaza,had for the first time in his life changed the windows of his establishment. Normally he would have frowned at such an action, calling it a waste of money, because after all his customers did not come to the Plaza for the view, they came there for the food. It was his youngest daughter, the lovely Lin, who persuaded him to change the windows anyway. They had become so worn out and scratchy that cleaning them did not help very much anymore and the eaters at the Plaza were beginning to get the impression they were eating in some jail, instead of in a fancy restaurant. Now you could not exactly call Mr. Chon's Noodle Plaza a very fancy restaurant, but Mr. Chon himself was still convinced that his restaurant was among the finest Chinese restaurants in the city. It was for this reason that he, reluctantly, agreed to change the windows. And he had to admit that they did look awfully nice and that having a view while eating is not such a bad thing after all. Besides, all that daylight saved a lot of money since he now no longer had to have the lights on all day! He even promised Lin that he would change the windows more regularly now. If he had already planned to have them changed today is doubtful, but it would have to be done anyway. After all, you cannot fix a window if somebody just jumped through it.

The first man who did this seemed to have the best reason for breaking through the window. There were a few heavily armed men in the restaurant, who seemed intent on using him for live target practice. Since running towards the heavily guarded door was not an option, the man decided to smash through the window instead. The second man smashing through a window was an individual called Charlie, who was one of the henchmen of Mr. Dickerson, one of the most influential criminals in the city. When Mr. Dickerson said: "Jump in the river", you jumped in the river. When Mr. Dickerson said: "Jump off the train", you jumped off the train.

And when Mr. Dickerson said: "Jump through the window, you moron, if you walk through the door first then he will be long gone", then you wished you had jumped through that window already two minutes ago. He was followed by several others of Mr. Dickerson's henchmen, who all decided to choose random windows to smash through before they went after their target. Just as Mr. Chon started to wonder why they could not all have chosen the same window, instead of breaking through every window on the front side of his restaurant, he was approached by Mr. Dickerson himself.

"I do apologize, Mr. Chon," he said. "My men seem to be intent on showing off how cool they are by making as much noise as they can. When I was still a henchman myself, they used to teach us that you had to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. But no, nowadays they all watch too many movies and think that this is the way it's supposed to be." Mr. Chon nodded fervently, as Mr. Dickerson took out his wallet and gave Mr. Chon an amount of money that would cover the damage at least three times. Then Mr. Dickerson nodded, said his goodbyes and left through the door. As the door closed behind Mr. Dickerson, Mr. Chon was already imagining what kind of windows he could buy with this money. Two sets of new windows in two months time. His daughter would be so proud of him!

As Mr. John Dickerson walked in the direction where his henchmen had disappeared to, he was considering the options that lay ahead of him. By now his guys, no matter how incompetent they were, would have probably gotten hold of their target, whom he had always considered to be one of his best henchmen, but who had turned out to be an informant for his biggest rival. Oh, he would get both of them! First Eddie, then Bob Santini and the rest of the Santini family. As he was considering the options he had in taking care of his problems, he started to enjoy himself. He was smiling as he turned the corner, but that smile disappeared when he saw something he had not expected. Because there was Bob Santini, Eddie and a lot of other unfriendly folks, all standing there with their guns aimed at him. His henchmen were also there, but not in the state they came in when he first hired them. At that time they all looked healthy, strong and mean, now a few of them were lying on the floor, some of them were sitting on their knees with their hands behind their head, and one of them was even crying. As Mr. Dickerson made a mental note to start looking for better help, he saw that Bob Santini took his cigar out of his mouth.

"Well well," Santini said, blowing out smoke. "John Dickerson. We meet again!"

"I see you broke some of my guys," Mr. Dickerson replied. "I hope you understand that if you break, you pay!"

"I seem to remember an occasion a few days ago, where you were quite adept at breaking my stuff," Santini retorted. "And if there is one person who is gonna pay," he paused for dramatic effect and took another pull off his cigar, "it's you!" He gave a nudge towards his men, who all started moving forward, guns drawn. Eddie was walking in front, and he seemed to be having the time of his life.

"Don't break him too much, Eddie," Santini warned him. "I have a few things to discuss with him."

Another puff of smoke and Eddie lunged forward, stabbing a knife at Mr. Dickerson's abdominal area. What Eddie had not expected though, was that Mr. Dickerson's was quite nimble on his feet. He jumped out of the way and gave Eddie a strong jab in his neck, taking him down to the ground. Mr. Dickerson considered giving Eddie a kick in the stomach for extra effect, but decided

against it. Instead, he ran. As he made his way back around the corner he could hear Santini yell at his men to get him. He knew that he had only a small lead and that he would have to get in contact with the rest of his own people quick, if he was to get out of this situation alive. Running down the street he fumbled in the pockets of his coat and got out his phone. Now all he needed to do was to speed dial his right hand man Joey and everything would be just fine.

And then his phone rang.

Taken completely by surprise, Mr. Dickerson instinctively pressed the receive button and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Dad!" A cheerful voice on the other side greeted him. "It's Samantha!" Normally Mr. Dickerson's was always delighted to hear the sound of his 12 year old daughter's voice, but now it was not really convenient.

"Honey, this is not really convenient."

"Daddy, I have to tell you something!" Her cheerfulness was in sharp contrast with the grim faces of the mob following Mr. Dickerson, and he could not help but notice the irony.

"Honey, this is really not a good time..."

"I have to tell you something daddy!"

"But..."

"Are you at work?"

"Well..." Mr. Dickerson looked behind him and saw one or two guns being drawn.

"Yes I am."

"Well, you are the boss of the company, so I am sure you have some time for me." Mr. Dickerson decided it was best to get this conversation over with, so that he could get on with his business as soon as possible.

"Okay, what's on your mind pumpkin?" He said, ducking into a small alley.

"I arranged a blind date for you!"

Mr. Dickerson almost ran into a trash can as he heard his daughter's announcement.

"You what?"

"I arranged a blind date for you! You promised me I could look for a new wife for you, now that mommy has been gone for so long already." Samantha fell silent for a few moments, as Mr. Dickerson made a mental note to start listening to his daughter more instead of just nodding and saying 'hm' everytime she said something to him. He was sure it would get him out of a lot of hairy situations like this. He felt a bullet whiz past his ear, too close for comfort, and he wondered if Santini's henchmen were really good to get the bullet so close to him, or so bad because they could not even hit him when he was only a few feet away from them.

"So you arranged me a blind date, huh?" He said to his daughter as he took a left corner.

"Yes daddy! She is called Pamela, is 38 years old and has been single since her own husband died."

"How did he die?"

"Daddy! You don't really think I asked something like that! That's not polite!"

"Hm, if you say so. So where did you find this woman then?"

"On the internet ofcourse, where else!"

"Yeah. Where else..."

"In the Buffy chatroom!"

"The Buffy chatroom?"

"Daddy, you sound out of breath, what are you doing?"

"Um, I'm running... Jogging!"

"Jogging? But I thought you said you were at work!"

"Well, yes... I'm jogging with some business associates of mine."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun! When I get old I want a job like that too!"

"Yeah well," Mr. Dickerson said as he could hear his enemies get closer and closer. "Don't make a decision about that just yet." He had never gotten around to telling his daughter what it was exactly that he did and even this situation did not seem like the appropriate time to spill the beans. Even though he had made it a point never to be involved in any killings, his job was still illegal enough to land him in prison for at least 35 years.

"Okay daddy. Um, about that date."

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could meet her tonight already?"

"Tonight? But I have plans tonight!"

"No you don't daddy, I checked your agenda and it's empty."

That's what you get for having two agenda's, Mr. Dickerson thought to himself. One for home, and one for his work. He did not really like the idea of having to tell his daughter that tonight's original plans had involved a lot of guns, a lot of threatening and a lot of people who would end the evening in varying amounts of pain.

"But does it specifically have to be tonight? Can't she make it tomorrow night?"

"No daddy. You can celebrate your birthday together with her already. You did not forget that tomorrow is your birthday huh?"

So that was what had been gnawing at his mind for the past few days.

"Besides, Samantha continued, "she has to leave town tomorrow."

"Why, what did she do?"

"Daddy! She did not do anything! She is probably just going on vacation!"

"Hm," Mr. Dickerson answered, not entirely convinced.

"So do you think you can make it tonight at 8 at the Flamingo Club?" Samantha continued.

"Um," Mr. Dickerson said, just as his assailants were about to grab him by the shoulders. "I will do my best!"

"Great! She will wear a red rose tonight so you can recognise her!"

When John Dickerson made a promise, he would do everything he could to make good on that promise. Mostly those promises were more like threats, and most of the time he had people who would take care of them for him, but he never tried to find an excuse to get out from under his promises. So when his daughter asked him to be at the Flamingo Club, one of the fanciest eateries in town, at 8, he would not let some criminal and his henchmen stop him. He did not even let a few broken ribs and a broken nose stop him.

"Boss, are you sure you are doing the right thing?" Joey asked him as his car pulled up in front of the Flamingo Club.

"Joey, I bade a bromise do my daughter!"

"You bade what?"

"I BADE a BROMISE to my DAUGHTER! Are you deaf?"

"Geez, sorry boss! But Santini and his men broke your nose, you are a little difficult to understand!"

If looks could have killed, then Joey would have been in the river with a few kilo's of cement around his shoes. Joey, Mr. Dickerson most trusted friend and ally, was never too quick on the uptake.

"So, what I said before, do you think it is wise to go out with some broad you never met before? What if it's one of Santini's people?"

"Joey," Mr. Dickerson replied, trying his best not to speak through his broken nose too much. "First of all, it's not a broad but a lady that my daughter found for me, and second of all, not everybody in this town works for Santini! I pride myself on having a little bit of people knowledge, thank you very much!"

"Um, but Eddie worked for Santini too."

On second thought, throwing Joey in the river with a pair of cement shoes would be too kind, Mr. Dickerson thought to himself. Maybe a trip to the local woodcutting factory for some thorough trimming would be a better idea.

"Look, you will not be able to stop me, Joey. I will just have a drink with this broad..."

"You said she's a lady, boss.."

"LADY! Maybe something to eat, and then go home again. What harm can there be? You and Phil just stay outside waiting for me and if something fishy happens you can help me out, okay?"

"You're the boss, boss! Where did she find this lady for you anyway?"

Mr. Dickerson took a deep breath.

"She found her on the internet."

"The internet?" Joey's eyes became big. "Nothing good ever came off the internet, boss. Hey! What if she's a guy?"

As Mr. Dickerson walked into the restaurant, steam coming from his ears, he was afraid he had to agree with his right hand man. Although the date felt like not so bad an idea, the timing was not very lucky. Only this afternoon Santini had threatened to eliminate him if he kept interfering in Santini's business, and after he had gotten home from the hospital, the first thing Mr. Dickerson had done was to order Joey and Phil (the only two of his henchmen not injured or too scared to keep working for him) to go to Santini's house and leave some bullet holes in the upholstery. Which they promptly did. He could understand if Santini was not exactly happy with him right now, although he was sure even Santini understood that this was all part of doing business. However, any worries he might have had disappeared as soon as he saw the woman he was supposed to meet tonight.

"Oh my God," Mr. Dickerson said as he laid eyes on one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was a little bit shorter than him, had bright blue eyes, long, straight black hair, full red lips and was wearing a dress that made his eyes water from all the shining knobs and buttons on it. Mr. Dickerson, who did not exactly have a reputation for being a smooth talker,

and who mostly spoke in short (mostly painful) orders, once again proved that reputation.

"Um," he said as he had approached the woman and stood there with his mouth open. The woman graciously stepped off her barstool and extended her hand in Mr. Dickerson's direction.

"Mr. Dickerson? Hi, I'm Pamela! But you can call me Pam. What can I call you? Your daughter did not give me your first name."

"Um," Mr. Dickerson repeated, awkwardly taking the woman's hand and staring at it like he was afraid it might fall off any moment. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what can I call you? What do people call you?"

"Mr. Dickerson."

"Okay, but what do your friends call you?"

"Um, they also call me Mr. Dickerson."

"Right, but then what does your daughter call you?"

"She calls me Daddy."

Without missing a beat or looking surprised the woman continued.

"Well, I am not going to call you Mr. Dickerson all night, so do I call you Daddy as well or do you actually have a first name hidden somewhere?"

Mr. Dickerson stayed silent for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he was imitating a fish. Finally, he seemed to have reached a conclusion.

"John. You can call me John."

And so she did for the rest of the night, which was in many ways a bigger success than Mr. Dickerson could have hoped for. Not only was he totally taken by his date, who dazzled the room with her looks and who turned out to be the funniest, smartest and sexiest woman Mr. Dickerson had ever met, but apart from that he tried so hard not to say anything stupid again that he forgot all his worries for a few hours. He did not want to admit it, but for the first time in a long period, Mr. Dickerson was enjoying himself.

There had to be a catch.

This thought entered Mr. Dickerson's head about halfway through the evening and it stuck there. Every time the thought came up, he tried to counter it.

"There has got to be a catch."

"Don't be stupid. This woman is gorgeous, how can there be a catch?"

"You just said it. The woman is gorgeous. Why would she try to find someone on the internet? Maybe she is a freak!"

"A freak? Will you look at that wonderful smile? And she is so smart and well spoken!"

"So, a smart and well spoken freak then!"

However much he tried to counter the bad thoughts, Mr. Dickerson could not shake the thought that there had to be a catch. Things did not normally go this smoothly in his life, and besides, the woman seemed interested in him. How was that possible? He could not control himself.

"Is there a catch?" He flubbed out before he realised it himself.

"Excuse me?" Pamela countered, for the first time this evening seeming to be lost for words.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid remark. It's just that, lately, I have been having a very difficult time. To run into a woman as beautiful as you and not have her walk out on me after half an hour is a little hard to take in for me."

Pamela laughed hard at this remark, and looking at her laugh Mr. Dickerson could feel his heart skip a beat.

"Oh John, you are so funny! Why wouldn't it be possible for two people to meet in this way and have fun together?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that this is all very unexpected for me. I only heard about this whole date earlier today when I was being chased... When I was jogging with my business associates."

"Yes what an incredible story! Your daughter called you while you were jogging and you did not pay attention to what you were doing and ran into a telephone pole. What bad luck!"

"Yes, sorry about that. You must think I look hideous."

"No! Not at all! If you already look this cute with a broken nose, then I cannot wait to see what you look like when your nose is healed!"

Were those butterflies in his stomach? How was that possible? Normal people had butterflies in their stomach, but surely not Mr. Dickerson, the most feared gangster boss in town!

"John," the woman continued, "you should just try to enjoy this great turn of events. Finally something happy is going on in our lives!"

"Yes, I heard, your husband died, I am sorry."

"No need to be sorry, that was already years ago."

"Was he sick?"

"No he was murdered."

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe you heard the story. He was that popular radio dj Francis Boyer."

"Yes, I heard about that, it was all over the news! That must have been terrible for you."

"Well let's not go into it any deeper." Pamela took a sip of her wine and for a second it seemed like she was going to cry. Mr. Dickerson reached over and took her hand, after which they shared a long look into each others eyes.

It was very convenient that Pamela had a room in the hotel across the street, as this meant they did not have to spend a lot of time getting there. What followed was the most incredible two hours Mr. Dickerson had spent in longer than he could remember, and for the first time that night he forgot all his suspicions and worries.

They came right back, however, in the middle of the night, as Mr. Dickerson woke up with a shock. He could hear Pamela's soft breathing next to him, as he slowly crawled out of the bed and got his mobile phone out of the pocket of his coat.

"Boss, what's wrong?" came the worried sounding voice from the other side of the connection. "Do you need more condoms?"

"Condoms?" Mr. Dickerson hissed back, trying desperately not to wake up the beautiful woman in the bed beside him. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, me and Phil are still waiting outside boss. We saw you going into the hotel and were figuring you were (Mr. Dickerson could hear muffled snickering noises) getting busy!"

"No, you idiot!"

"You were not getting busy?"

"Yes I was... That's not the point!"

Mr. Dickerson counted to ten.

"Joey, do you remember that radio dj Francis Boyer?"

"Yeah boss, I remember him, always used to listen to his show. He was really funny. Until he got killed of course."

"Yes, I remembered that too, but my mind is a bit sketchy about this and I am worried I have this mixed up with the murder of that movie star that happened in the same year, Louis Ostermann. Wasn't one of them rumoured to have been killed by his wife?"

"Yeah boss, that was Boyer. They had to let her go on a lack of evidence, but if somebody was ever guilty of a murder, it was surely that broad! Why?"

Mr. Dickerson could hear a clicking sound in his other ear.

"Boss, why do you wanna know?"

"Joey, I have to go, thanks for the info."

"Boss, what's wrong?"

Mr. Dickerson put down his phone and turned around, looking straight into the barrel of a rather big gun. A rather big gun that was in the hands of Pamela Vanderbeek, former Mrs. Pamela Boyer.

"I guess there was a catch after all," she said with a little smile on her face. "Sorry."

"I should have known. Beautiful women like you don't go shopping for a man on the internet. Unless you are a guy yourself ofcourse."

"I was instructed to leave you alive until we arrive at our destination, but if you want I can save you the trip, funny guy. Now get dressed, we are already late."

After Mr. Dickerson had gotten dressed, he and Pamela got into her car, which was parked at the back of the hotel, and went for a ride. Mr. Dickerson sat behind the wheel, so that Pamela could keep an eye (and the gun) on him. The trip was mostly silent, but the silence was broken by an anxious Mr. Dickerson. He did not mind so much that his own life was at stake here, but the thought of his daughter being on the verge of becoming an orphan was too much for him.

"How much is he paying you?" He asked Pamela as they took a turn.

"What do you mean?"

"How much is he paying you? I will double it and triple it if you will kill him instead of me!"

"Who says that my client is a he?"

Mr. Dickerson was puzzled by this.

"Are you playing with me?"

"Playing?"

"Yes! Trying to deny that it was Bob Santini who sent you to kill me."

"Bob Santini? Didn't you hear the news? He was shot by a professional assassin only a few hours ago. That's why we are a bit late for our appointment now." She winked at him.

"You killed Bob Santini?"

"Who said anything about killing him? Let's just say that he has been put out of the running for at least a couple of months. Can't have him pestering you and breaking your nose." She patted Mr. Dickerson on his cheeks. "Poor guy. Well at least having your nose broken by criminals sounds better than running into a telephone pole while you are jogging. That was not one of your best lines tonight, if I might say so."

"So who did send you?"

"Now, we don't want to go and spoil the surprise, do we?"

Even when she was being ruthless and mean, Pamela was breathtaking. Mr. Dickerson could marry a woman like her, as long as she did not kill him first.

"So how much is this 'woman' paying you then?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Are you joking me?"

"Nope."

"You are trying to tell me that you are doing this for free?"

Pamela nodded."It's a favour for a friend. And there she is right now."

"Where?"

"There, in front of your house."

"My house?"

Mr. Dickerson had not been paying much attention to the road, since his brain had been frantically looking for a way out of this nasty situation. But they were indeed in front of his house. And in front of his house was...

"Stephanie?"

His daughter waved at him and ran towards his car.

"Daddy!"

Inside the car Mr. Dickerson looked at Pamela.

"Can I..."

"Of course! It's not very polite to keep your daughter waiting!"

Mr. Dickerson got out the car and hugged his daughter, wearing a puzzled look on his face.

"Um, hi Stephanie."

"Hello Daddy! Happy birthday! How did you like your present?"

"My present?"

She pointed at Pamela, who was now standing beside the car as well. She smiled.

"I'm sorry that I did not put a bow tie around my head, but you did not seem to mind too much when we were in the hotel room together."

For the first time in at least 20 years, Mr. Dickerson was blushing.

"Did you like her, daddy?"

"Like her? Stephanie she is a professional killer!"

"Yes, cool huh?"

"Cool? She killed her husband and now she is going to kill me!"

"If I may interrupt, I was not planning on killing you, actually, though I did kill my husband, yes. But it was purely self defence."

"Self defence?"

"Yes, he was actually trying to kill me when I told him I had found out he was having a sado-masochistic relationship with the man living next door. He could not have that news being spread of course, and although I would never have told anybody, he tried to kill me anyway. That's when he found out I was not really a kindergarten teacher." Pamela shrugged. "Oh well. Then again, I am not the only person here with a secret identity. Or at least, somebody who thinks they have a secret identity."

"Yes Daddy, it's sweet that you were trying to protect me by not telling me you were a dangerous gangster, but mommy had already told me about that years ago."

"She did?"

"Yes, right before she passed away. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. Which I did, with the help of Joey."

"Joey?"

"Yeah, hi boss." It was only now that Mr. Dickerson saw that his henchman was standing in the doorway of his house. "I am sorry that I have not told you anything about this, but I wasn't allowed to. And you can never spurn a woman, my mother always told me. Oh well, now it all doesn't matter anymore."

"What do you mean it does not matter anymore?"

"You are not a gangster boss anymore, boss."

This day was getting more and more weird by the minute.

"What do you mean I am not a gangster boss anymore?"

"You promised mommy you would stop being a gangster boss on your 45th birthday, Daddy."

"Yes but..."

"But what? Haven't you always taught me to never break a promise?"

"But, it's what I do! What else can I do?"

"You don't have to do anything, Daddy, you made more than enough money to just sit around and relax all day. Even after you donated half of your fortune to charity."

"What do you mean I donated half of my fortune to charity?"

"I figured that you would not need all that money anyway, and I met this guy in the Buffy chatroom who is kinda handy with hacking bank accounts."

"Again that bloody Buffy chatroom? I am thinking we should be cutting down your internet time young lady!"

"Oh Daddy I love you!" Stephanie gave her father a big hug and without being able to help himself, Mr. Dickerson's face turned into a big smile. This was not how he had imagined his 45th birthday to turn out, but it wasn't that bad in the end. After all, his daughter was right. He had promised his wife to stop his 'business' at 45 and though he had more or less forgotten his promise, he was glad that his daughter had reminded him. He had always had big dreams and now he would finally have the time to try and make them come true.

"So that's it?" he said as he put his arm around her shoulder and started walking inside the house. "I'm not a gangster anymore?"

"Nope. And in case you might stray off the right path, there is always Pamela to persuade you back to the good side."

"You and all the other people in the Buffy chatroom huh? So our date was not that bad after all?"

"I think I won't mind keeping my eye on you for some time." Pamela said as she wrapped her arm around Mr. Dickerson's waist. "At least until I see what you look like when your nose is not broken anymore."

"And hey boss, me and Phil have retired from the gangster business too. Maybe we can all go fishing together some day."

"Yeah Joey, maybe we can." And as Mr. Dickerson walked inside the house and closed the door behind him, he knew that was a promise he was going to keep...

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