Middleman

Middleman
by
Raman Jalota

    Brahmaratan stopped in mid stride. He even forgot where he was hurrying to. This is the human I have been looking for. Isn’t he? A short muscular black man with a mustache and gold chains around the neck stood chewing a cigarette. A young white man with shaved head stood next to him.
    “And what could I do with her?”
    “Hey, hey, don’t point at nobody here. Just talk to me. You want her or not? I got other chicks if you don’t like that one.”
    “No, I want that one, the little blonde.”
    “Is that right? O.K. Tell you what. You can have her anyway you want her. Fifteen minutes ... Fifty bucks. What do you say, man?”
    “No man. That’s too much. I only got a twenty.”
    “You want to screw for twenty bucks! What do you think this is ... Iowa? You aint never gonna find someone like her. She’s got a nice mouth, great ass, great tits, she’s worth a hundred.”
    Slowly a deal was struck, Menzel gave a hand signal to the half-dressed half-naked blonde and scanned the 34th street for more Johns.
    Brahmaratan stood twenty feet away, transfixed. I must learn to talk like this man. No, not just talk, but think like him.
    He approached him slowly. “Hello.”
    “What?”
    “I would like to hire you ...”
    “You crazy. If you want a girl, I got plenty. But no boys, you pervert. You see that redhead over ...”
    “No, not for sex. I don’t care for this sex thing you have here. I would like to learn your technique for negotiation.”
    “My what?”
    “How to explain it ... The way you sell ... The way you sell sex. You are able to sell a human being, and you do it so easily; so well, so naturally. I am very impressed by this. I want to find out the details ...”
“You must be crazy man. What the hell do you mean by all that? Do you wanna hustle on my street?”
“No, no. I want to hire you for learning how you do this. I am not in the sex business and won’t hurt your business, I just want to talk ... ... I’ll pay you what you want. How much do you want? Five thousand for a day, would that be O.K?”
    Menzel was shocked. “Is that right? You would pay me five thousand bucks ... just for talking ... ”

.....

    The Russian delegate looked at the smiling dark man suspiciously. Why is he steering me away from the rest of the people? Do these stupid people not know that we are all KGB agents? He spoke in his broken accent, “Yes, that is so very correct. However, I do not see the point of your ... your words.”
    Brahmaratan whispered, “Do you see that dark haired woman by the water fountain?”
    He pointed to a tall, thin woman, dressed in a low cut blue dress, moving softly to the music of the waterfall with one arm on her friend’s shoulder; the delegate from France.
    The Russian looked at her from across the Sheraton hotel’s ballroom and looked longingly at her breasts. “Yes I do see her. She is so beautiful. What about it?”
    “She’s so beautiful. Is that right? O.K. Tell you what. You can have her anyway you want her. Fifteen minutes ... Fifty bucks. What do you say, man?”
    He licked his lips. “You don’t say? Is she a ‘prostituti’?”
    “Shhh. Not so loud. She’s one of my girls working the hotel tonight. Go up to her and take her to her room.”
    “Just like that! I don’t know ... I have never .. Well, not in this country ... In Russia, yeah, sure, but not here.”
    Brahmaratan smiled, “Tell her Menzel sent you. Pay her after you screw her.”
    The Russian slowly walked towards the girl. Brahmaratan managed to leave the hotel before he had made it halfway to her.

.....

    “Why you bring this stranger to my house?” Spivelli spread his hands in the direction of Brahmaratan.
    “With due respect, I am here on behalf of the Pateri family. My name is Brahmaratan. I would like to speak for the Pateris.” He took care to not look directly in Michael Spivelli’s eyes. His eyes stayed focused at his face but away from his eyes.
    “And why should I listen to a stranger rather than my own brother?”
    Brahmaratan ignored his remark and looked towards Armand Pateri to speak.
    Armand pondered the remark for a while; making the silence almost painful. “I spoke to Antonio in the hospital. He has complete faith in Ratan. He assured me that anything that Ratan agrees to is binding to our family as if he himself had agreed to. He swears by his judgment.”
    Brahmaratan cleared his throat, “I would like to put all of you at ease, especially mister Spivelli. I am here for the Pateris but I am here for peace. There must be peace among all of us. This fighting is scaring business not only from the Pateris but also everyone else. Our customers have stopped coming back. They are scared. This has hurt our businesses very badly. We need to rebuild the peace and prosper from the goodwill that we used to enjoy.”
    “This I must agree with Mr. Ratan. There’s nothing worse than the last four weeks of fighting. And I do feel sorry for Pateri’s nephew. Antonio, he’s like my brother. And during the heat of the fighting, he got a little hurt.”
    Seven bullets from a machine gun .... and he calls it a little hurt! He was damn lucky not to take a hit directly. He had managed to turn his shoulder in the direction of the assasin saving his vital organs. Brahmaratn showed a hint of a smile.
    “And Antonio is sorry for the disruption that the fighting created. He’s sorry for the losses on your side and as a token of peace, offers to let you have control of the Cineplex area. He’ll withdraw his walkers and runners as soon as Mr. Spivelli gives the word.”
    Spivelli looked at his oldest son who nodded his head in acceptance and agreement. This Ratan guy is good. He really knows how to talk like us. Too bad he doesn’t have Sicilian blood in his veins. He could be good for the entire community. He got up and walked to Brahmaratan’s chair and put his hand on his shoulder, “Come, let’s go into the dining room and have some wine and food. Let the others work out the rest of the details. I don’t like food to get cold.”
    Brahmaratn nodded his head and slowly got up, “Is that right? Antonio welcomes back his brother.” He hugged Spivelli and kissed him on the cheek.
Spivelli patted him on the shoulder and the two moved to the dining area.
The remaining group watched the receding backs of the two; they would have sworn these two men were acting more like long lost brothers rather than enemies.

.....

    “Are you finished?”
    “No, not quite. I am not sure if I truly can deal with my assignment yet.”
    “The escee demands action immediately.”
    “Listen Destin, it’s not that easy. The supreme commander didn’t want any bloodshed and I think I can achieve that. So far I have tried my skills in two areas. The last one was a challenge ... two hostile families at war. I acted as the agent for one of them and achieved a reconciliation without any further bloodshed.”
    “What kind of families? I don’t understand what you are doing.”
    “These families own territories in which they control all illegal activities. Huge amounts of money is involved. When these people fight, usually only one family is left standing. I was able to not only convince the head of one of the families to represent him, I was able to actually negotiate a settlement. A solution good for both sides. Isn’t that what we want? Isn’t that what the escee wants.”
    Destin rubbed his chin. “Yes. The supreme commander wants avoidance of any destruction of this planet. We need to save all the resources we can. But we do need to hurry. Our need for these resources is critical. How soon will you be ready?”
    “I want to sharpen my skills with one of the biggest challenges this world faces. If I succeed, I’ll be ready to proceed without any hesitation.”
    “I’ll talk to the escee and try and get you some more time. Call me tomorrow.”
    Destin looked out over the snow covered Rockies and whispered, “God damned perfectionist!”

.....

    “Salam Walekum.”
    Brahmaratan was greeted into the tent by a man in an unkempt grayish beard wearing a checkered purple and green head-wrap.
    “Walekum Salam,” he responded and followed the man’s gesture. He sat down on the carpet and leaned his left shoulder on thick barrel-shaped pillows. The guards with the automatics withdrew to the hot dessert outside.
    The man smiled, showing his crooked tobacco stained teeth, “I have been told how you were interested in this negotiation for my people. Do you understand who and what we are and who and what we are willing and not willing to do?”
    Brahmaratan leaned forward and picked up a pinch of dirt. He kissed it and placed it on his forehead.
“I understand the sacredness of this land to you and your people. I would consider it an esteemed honor to represent the Palestinians in these negotiations with the Jews.” He spat immediately after saying ‘Jews’.
   “I am very impressed. We have been denied the land of my ancestors; the land of Muhammad, for thousands of years. For us life is nothing. We are willing to give up our life for a chance to set foot in the sacred land.”
    “That’s right. I understand the extreme devotion you and your people feel for this land and I am willing to right the wrong that has been dealt to the Palestinians. After studying the sacred Quaran and the history of the Palestine my heart broke for your people. I would consider it an esteemed honor to sit by you at the table and guide the negotiations to achieve what’s most sacred to you. I swear by the holiness of this land.”
    He put his hands on the carpet and kissed the dirt floor of the tent. There were tears in both men’s eyes. He was helped up and then embraced.
    “I declare you my brother.”
    They sat silently for a few moments. A woman wearing a long robe with a veil across her face brought a big brass bowl and placed it on the floor, between the two men.
    “Ah! The noon-meal is here. Brother Ratan join me in this feast.”
    Brahmaratan smiled showing his appreciation and followed his host’s lead, picking up a bit of rice and mutton and eating it with his fingers.

.....

    “Yes, the Golan Heights are strategic to you. We understand strategy. You must understand that Golan Heights ares much more than strategy to us. It’s sacred land that Muhammad walked on. It’s land that belongs to our ancestors. It must not be touched by blood of men engaged in war; only the blood of sacrificial goats may stain this land. Our reverence for peace and sanctity of this land is greater than any need for strategy that you will ever have.”
    Abdul Farook’s eyes were moist as he stared spellbound at Brahmaratan. He tapped the papers lying in front of him.
    “I could not have described our feelings for this land any better than Ratan. He represents not only me and my people but the heart of Palestine.”
    Moshe David silently nodded his head, “We understand the importance this land has and would like to express that we have the same concern for the holiness of this land. I represent the Israelis but I also understand what you are saying. I will be willing to allow control of Golan heights to the Palestinians if ....”

.....

    Abdul Farook embraced Brahmaratan, “When you first came to my tent, I thought you were possibly a traitor to our cause or if not a traitor; perhaps dangerous in some way to me or to us. However I felt, having you by my side was something that I could easily overcome if such a need came. Talking to you these last few days, I have felt the fate of Palestine was well cradled in your hands. Today’s negotiations have convinced me that you are a messenger from Muhammad.”
    “Is that right? I am honored by your acceptance and praise. I’ll try and carry it through the rest of the week’s negotiations.”
    “I have never said this to anyone. But you ... you are someone that I have not seen anyone like. Me, my people, my resources are available to you anytime you wish, in any manner you wish. Your command will be considered my command.”
    Brahmaratan smiled and walked towards the dining hall.

.....

    “Destin, I am ready. Tell escee we can proceed.”
    “What exactly did you do that you think you are ready now?”
    “I settled a seven thousand year old dispute between two nations. In the end each of them gave up their lands and accepted the needs of the others as equal to their own. You should have seen the signing ceremony. The Israelis and Palestinians embracing each other and calling each other brothers. It brought a tear to my human eyes.”
   “O.K., exactly what do we do now?”
    “Contact the Special Counsel to the President and tell him that we are from a foreign land and want to speak with the president on a matter of national ... no world safety. Arrange our meeting with his closest aides and tell them ....”

.....

    President Wilson swung his Tennis racket practicing an imaginary rolling, topspin backhand, “Are you serious Jimmy?”
    The special counsel stood in the oval office, facing the president and his ten-year-old son, both with Tennis rackets, freshly back from their morning session. “I wasn’t sure at first, but when I found that they will be bringing in Brahmaratan for the talk, I could not doubt their authenticity.”
    “Is this the same, mysterious Brahmaratn who negotiated the peace between the Isrealis and ...”
    “Yes, the same guy Mr. President.”
    “How come we don’t know anything about him? Can’t our secret service get us any information?”
    “All we have is extremely sketchy. He appeared out of nowhere in New York first and then in Palestine. I believe he must be some sort of a master criminal, who has assumed a new identity and somehow erased his past completely.”
    “What about his family, his wife, kids, parents?”
    “Nothing. No trace of anyone.”
    “Well, I guess, we can talk. When are we going to do this?”

.....

    Wednesday morning was partly cloudy. The white-house looked clean, almost septic. A group of aides stood on the steps, looking at the sky from time to time, waiting for somebody to arrive.
The president’s special counsel was whispering, “Yes, he declined to tell me how they would come. He didn’t want a diplomatic escort. He said they won’t come by land. He also said they will bypass our radars without a problem. I thought a helicopter.”
    At precisely 10.00 A.M. a gasp went up from the group. A cylinderical object, twenty-feet long and nine-feet in diameter slid noiselessly in front of the white-house steps. As the gull door swung up, Brahmaratan and six others walked out of the space craft.
    Brahmaratan smiled at the special counsel, “We are here.”
    “The president is waiting.”
    The group walked into the main floor meeting hall and settled down.
    President Wilson: “I welcome all of you to the white-house for this extraordinary meeting. I have been told you came by some sort of a flying cylinder. Is that correct?”
    Brahmaratn slowly relaxed his shoulders.
    “Mr. President, my name is Brahmaratan. The fact that we landed undetected on the steps of the white-house in our space craft is symbolic of our immense technology and power. We are not interested in destroying this planet. We want to preserve it. I am here to negotiate the surrender of the United States as a first step towards a peaceful coexistence with us.”

The End    2736 words

Copyright © 2004 Raman Jalota. All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

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