Free In the Shade of the Monkey Puzzle Tree by Sara Alexi Page B

the safety of the iron gate as he picks it up, mouths open, the man in front of the woman. The old lady looks him straight in the eye, her stance set, her mouth taut, her chin tucked in as if she is ready to growl.
    Theo stares into the depth of her eyes, notices the sky taking on a brilliance behind her. His rage bubbles until he can no longer hold it in. The branch raises up, above his head, he looks right at her. His hands tremble, his biceps spasm. With a branch this size he could bring it down on her head and drive her feet into the pavement, like a mallet hitting a peg. Deeper and deeper she would go until only her head remains above ground. He twitches as if to move, the branch feels too destructive, but if he lets go of the branch his hands would seek her neck. Snap it like a dried twig, so thin and scrawny the way it protrudes from her dress. His grip on the wood tightens. He marches backwards a few paces. The old lady sneers at his retreat. She has no idea how destructive he feels. The sun glints off one of the windows and dazzles him, the end of the branch is level with the pane. The old woman sucks in a breath and Theo sees her fear. It wouldn’t take much, with all his weight behind it, one swipe at the upstairs windows and they would shatter. The shards flying inwards, spraying across her private domain, the wooden muntin between the panes of glass splintering.
     
    The old lady would gasp then, blood draining from her arrogant features. Her movements jerky, hobbling towards him as quickly as she could.
    ‘ Ha.’ Theo expels, taking joy in smashing the next window, grinning at the effect of the demolition on her features before he turns the corner to lay waste to the front downstairs window, and then the ones beside the door.
    Someone comes out from the shop across the road to watch the drama, calling someone else to join them. The cat is with them, winding around their ankles. ‘Has that old bag been pulling her “room for rent” scam again? Should be locked up,’ Theo hears him say. He glares at the old lady, who stares back with gritted teeth and the watchers begin to applaud him. Shutters open and more neighbours witness his retribution and each in turn shouts ‘bravo’ and claps until the whole street is celebrating his actions, cheering and whistling.
    ‘ And that,’ Theo pants, ‘makes us just about even. Should cost you five week’s rent to replace that lot.’
     
    The couple who have come to rent the flat mutter to each other.
    ‘ She is a con artist,’ Theo calls to them. ‘She took two weeks in advance, two week’s money for damages and a week’s rent, then allowed me to stay five days …’
    ‘ Seven.’ The old lady cannot help herself.
    Theo briefly looks at her and raises his eyebrows. ‘Five,’ he says firmly at the couple, ‘before kicking me out for not having a copy of the contract she never gave me.’
    The couple cross the road and scuttle off. They pass the man, still outside his shop who tells them they are best off somewhere else.
     
    Theo refocuses back to the present, sweat running from his forehead, out of breath with adrenaline, the branch still in his hands but his feet have not moved, the windows remain intact but his need to vengeance, justice, somewhat satiated by his thoughts. The prospective tenants peek around the gate behind the old woman.
    Theo’s briki of rage is off the boil but not gone. He takes a deep breath and drops the branch at her feet. His rage was powerful, but he controlled it. He feels proud of himself. The fear in the old lady’s eyes diminishes.
    ‘ Put that by your front door.’ He points to the branch. ‘It will remind you every time you answer the bell that if you con the wrong person they may not control themselves as well as I have.’ With this, he turns to leave. The man across the street, whose nose was pressed against the inside of his shop window returns to the shadows. The cat runs across the road and in the open shop