Scrambled Eggs in Venezuela

By Cindy Hossain

Tony finds himself trapped in a desolate existence, following the loss of his beloved wife. Desperate for a change of scenery and seeking solace, he embarks on a journey to the vibrant land of Venezuela. However, fate takes an unexpected turn when Tony gets abducted by a ruthless local gang. Amidst the chaos

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warrioress Publishing
• Release date: Nov 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088039007

Book preview

Chapter One

Chapter Separator

From dust we were formed, and to dust we shall return, the priest says, concluding his address to the mourning crowd gathered around the grave. He closes the black-leather-bound Bible and presses it against the buttons of his purple cassock before nodding to Tony, signaling him to proceed to the mound of earth next to the grave.

It has been a month since the east coast saw rain, and the soil feels completely stripped of moisture as Tony takes a fist full. He feels some of the loose grains trying to escape from the gaps between his fingers and tightens his grip. Standing next to the grave, with his arm stretched out above the dark oak casket–he feels unable to unclench his fingers.

Go on, son, the priest encourages, detecting Tony’s hesitation. He clenches his jaw at the priest’s words; for he is no son of the church, nor does he want to be. Elizabeth was the one who said all her Hail Marys, yet here she is about to be buried– and he, the heathen, is left standing.

Tony finally unclenches his fingers, and the breeze carries away some of the grains but most of it makes its way onto the casket, narrowly missing the white petals of the lilies in the casket spray. Sorrowful moans erupt from the crowd gathered around the grave as the metal rotating poles lower the casket. Some women in the crowd find their grief too much to bear, and their sobbing bodies are comforted by those around them. Tony frowns as he stares at this display, for he knows soon they will return to their lives, and the memory of Elizabeth’s existence will be just that – a memory. However, his soul will bear the scar of Elizabeth’s absence, like the earth bears the scars that war trenches leave behind.

Although Tony could afford to hire any venue in Manhattan for Elizabeth’s wake, he chose Byrne’s Pub. In a narrow alley, wedged between a Greek restaurant and an apartment block, hangs the pub’s illuminated four-leaf clover sign. Inside, the floor is covered with faded-gray-vinyl tiles and the walls embellished with framed Irish rugby jerseys.

You were good to her, Elizabeth’s father, John, says, raising his half-full pint glass where he sits opposite the small table from Tony.

She was the best thing that ever happened to me, Tony says, raising his glass and gently knocking it against John’s. I wish it was me who died instead, Tony says after a long silence.

So do I! John says. He pushes his chair back and gets up, before spitting towards Tony. Satisfied with the disgust shown at his son-in-law, he joins some of Elizabeth’s relations at the other side of the pub.

Asshole, Tony mutters to himself, as he stares at John with animosity. John objected to Tony and Elizabeth’s relationship from day one. He wanted his only daughter to marry someone of equal or greater status, marry something that Tony was not–not back then, anyway. However, surely after all that Tony had accomplished, he earned some respect. He gave Elizabeth everything money could buy, and he loved her more than he loved his own life. Now that she’s no longer here to curb her father’s behavior, it was evident that John didn’t feel the need to partake in the peace charades anymore.

* * *

Tony looks down at John’s saliva puddle, next to one of the ring stains on the table. He uses his index finger to trace the white circle, where moisture tattooed the wood, as he thinks back to the first time he laid eyes on Elizabeth in Byrne’s Pub.

Hey, dickhead, you’re not listening to me at all! Paul said as he jokingly slapped his hands on the table, to regain Tony’s attention.

I am, I am! Tony yelled.

What’s so interesting, anyway? Paul asked as he turned around in his chair and followed his friend’s stare. Oh, I see, Paul grinned.

At the crowded bar sat a young, willowy blonde. Her ringlets were loosely tied up with a red- silk ribbon, exposing big silver hooped earrings. She playfully twisted an escaped curl around her finger as she giggled at what the broad-shouldered man, wearing a leather biker’s jacket, next to her whispered in her ear.

Why don’t you go talk to her? Paul suggested.

Nah, he said as he