Cardio for the Confused

It was 9:00 AM and I was going to be late to meet my cousin for breakfast — again. He despised tardiness. He that said being late was an abomination to efficiency. Then I told him his booger lime green crocs were an abomination to his love life— or lack there-of of one.

I grabbed my leather jacket off the floor and was about to head out the door when I suddenly saw someone in my sister’s granite kitchen.

“G’morning, Jolene!” Chirped my sister’s twenty-six-year-old meat head former frat boy of a boyfriend, Kale. He stood in the kitchen all broad shouldered with a pink apron—my pink apron— that barely tied around his muscled body as he cooked something on the stove. “You want bacon? I’m making Jane some breakfast in bed.” He knew how much I wanted him to evaporate from our lives, so he was trying to wither away my distaste of his existence with a peace offering of bacon.

My older sister’s on-and-off again boyfriend was like an annoying splinter in my eye. Their two year relationship had been nothing but ‘oh-babe-take-me-back-I’m-sorries’ and ‘don’t-touch-me-ever-agains.’ I never understand why she didn’t just dump the deadweight.

I gave him a blank stare. “Isn’t your place like,” I flicked my wrist as if shooing away a fly, “six blocks not here?” Of course, I didn’t say it loud enough for him to hear over the sizzling pork.

He turned his head, waiting for my answer to his earlier question. I glared holes into the profile of Kale’s face as I told him in a monochromatic tone that I didn’t want any and that I had to go.

I zig-zagged through a crowd of men in suits who had cellphones strapped to their ears that were marching down the crosswalk. A man yelled at me to ‘watch it’ as I almost scuffed up his Armani dress shoes. I quickly apologized as I sprinted past him to the mom-and-pop diner in the middle of a modern down town.

The three jingle bells on the door welcomed me as I entered the buzzing diner; practically all the booths were taken and the single seats at the long counter were filled, too. I spotted my seventeen-year-old cousin sitting at a booth by the window looking out to the bustling city streets and plopped my body in the seat across from him.

“How’s it going, cousin?” I greeted.

He looked up from the newspaper with irritation reflecting in his irises. “My mother named me, Irwin, how do you think I’m doing?”

I put my hands up in a mock defense, “woah, feisty— what’s up with you this morning?”
My baby faced cousin closed the newspaper and set it off to the side, “Stacey registered me into this lame-o golf camp with her daughters this summer.”

Stacey Collins: Irwin’s new step-mother.
Occupation: Trophy wife to a newly elected mayor I called, Uncle John.

I suppressed a laugh, trying to act sympathetic. “Oh, come on, you used to love to golf.”
He cleared his throat, “hence used to— past tense.”
I shrugged my small shoulders and told him the golf camp could be a great way to bond with his two new younger twin step sisters. Or maybe it could have been another form of a deluxe summer suicide.

Irwin began to argue, but was interrupted by a male stranger filled with bravado. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but are you Jane’s sister?” The intruder sported a light blue polo shirt with the collar popped underneath a black peacoat.

“Hi,” I skeptically greeted with a tone where it sounded like a question.

“I’m Chet, one of Kale’s friends.” I should have known a guy who looked like that was cut from the same cloth as Kale. “So I have this package for him and—“ He stopped mid sentence to look around the restaurant. “—I was wondering if you could do me a solid and drop this off to him. I um—“ He looked around again. I began to grow suspicious. “— it’s a package that really needs to get to him pronto.”

If it was a package that needed to get to Kale pronto, then why didn’t Chet rush his hiney-ho to him earlier? Good for nothing waste of muscle.

I reluctantly agreed to deliver the package and Chet was glowing. He took off the messenger bag I hadn’t noticed earlier and handed it to me. I assumed the package was in the bag so I began to lift the flap, but Chet stopped me. “No, don’t—“ Before he could finish his sentence, he looked over his shoulder again. “—uh don’t open it. I-I got to go, thanks again, I um— I totally owe you.” With that, he placed the straps into my outreached hand and swiftly turned on his heels to rush out of there.

Irwin and I looked at each other with one of our brows arched; then we looked at the bag skeptically. “Well, that wasn’t weird at all,” Irwin said sarcastically.

I sighed and shook my head, “I swear to God, Jane needs new friends.”



Irwin and I finished our breakfast and started heading to a park where we liked feeding the ducks at the central pond. It was a Saturday morning tradition we never broke. I hung the bag Chet gave me over my right shoulder with my personal bag over my left.

“Dang this thing is heavy,” I complained.

Irwin fell silent for a moment and then his blonde head ducked down low. “Okay, don’t freak out, but I think someone’s following us,” he cautioned with tremor in his voice. I quickly looked over my shoulder and sure enough, there was a man in a black suit a couple feet behind us. I recognized him from the diner when we left it a few blocks back. He was tall and lean, but I could tell he could easily throw a punch that’ll knock a brother out. Why was he following us? Maybe he wasn’t and Irwin being Irwin was just being paranoid.

The wind blew against my skin, whipping my hair in all directions. I took the liberty to look back at the man again just because. The man was still behind us, but I took a double take when I saw something metal and shiny at the guy’s hip. He buttoned up his suit as the wind reached him, shielding the gun.

I swallowed hard and nudged Irwin’s arm. My heart began thumping against my ribcage, wanting to break loose as I spoke to Irwin in a low voice, “when we turn this corner— book it.” He peered over at me and nodded. I looked over my shoulder again to only see that the man was running straight towards us. I whipped my head to my cousin, “uhh—or book it now!” I grabbed his wrist and we started sprinting down the street. We zipped through tourists and cut sharp corners, but the big scary man in the suit was hot on our tails.

I lead us into a street market by the bay, hoping to lose suit-guy-with-a-gun somewhere between the rancid fish and rotting carrots. Merchants all around called us out to slow down or to watch it as Irwin and I jumped and dodged all things living and inanimate.

We started to slow down to a jog near the produce section when I couldn’t see the man anymore. “What—“ Irwin huffed, “does this guy want with us?”

We kept a steady pace, still mazing our way around the market. I almost slipped on a banana peel, but caught my balance before answering him that I didn’t know, but bet it had to do with something that was in the bag.

I heard a women gasp far behind us and I turned to see that the suit man had run into her kid. She started to hit him with her Mary Poppins looking purse and he held his hands up in defense, profusely apologizing.

I yelled at my cousin to run again, but not before he slipped on a piece of lettuce on the ground, holding me back. “Ahh!” He sat on the ground, holding his ankle, “leave— go without me, I’ll be fine!” He shouted with his free hand reaching out, pointing to an onward direction.

I unamusingly rolled my eyes,“ugh, stop being dramatic and let’s go!” I grabbed his outreached hand and heaved him off the ground.

We began to run down the street again, almost out of the market.

“Hey!” The suit man yelled behind us.

He was closer than I expected and I started to push boxes and trash cans behind us, making obstacles for him. He deftly jumped over all of them.

We were almost at the last stretch before we’d enter the city again, but I skidded to a stop in front of a toy shack that had foam swords and other knickknacks. I spotted a sling shot and a large rock on the ground. “Excuse me—“ I said to the shack-keeper.

I grabbed the sling shot from the stand and slipped the rock in front of the band, aiming it at the running suit that was headed towards us. I released the rubber and the stone flung straight to the man’s forehead, sending him stumbling to the ground as he held his head

I grinned.

“Woah, nice! Where’d you learn to do that!?”

I scoffed, “I don’t know— Mafia Camp?” I bonked Irwin on the head, “let’s go!”

We continued to run until we couldn’t anymore and ducked into an alley. My wheezy relative and I hid behind a dumpster, trying to collect our thoughts. He panted hard as we collapsed to the ground, tucking our knees into our chests. “Seriously, why is following us?” Irwin whispered in a pant.

I ran my fingers through my hair and looked down at the bag that still hung on my shoulder. “Screw it, I’m opening it.” I flipped open the flap and unzipped the bag. I pried it wide and was greeted by a dirty smell— the dirty smell of porno magazines.

“What the eff— it’s a bunch of naughty magazines!” I yelled out in frustration and confusion. “I’m so— wha— what!?”

Irwin was about to add in his two cents when his confused face suddenly turned into a face of realization. He cleared his throat, “Okay, so don’t freak out, but…”

I eyed him down with a menacing stare, “what.”

“I um…You know how my dad has this new controversial campaign? I just remembered that he said he’d send a body guard for me and you totally just pelted him in the head with a rock.”

And that was when I hated my cousin more than my sister’s boyfriend.