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| The Keats Papers | Started by: MacLeod on Dec 21, '08 15:38 |
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Strolling out on the streets, MacLeod holds a large bundle of papers. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen. Initially I was reluctant to do this, but after further consideration and a couple discussions with people I have a great deal of respect for, I've reconsidered. I've discovered some of my father's writing that he had hidden away- it may be familiar to some of you if you diligently perused the streets while he was alive. If it is, I apologize for the redundancy. With that acknowledgment, it's also true that these shores have seen many new bloodlines appear in the extended time since this was first published. The fact that it has been out of circulation, combined with the positive reception it received by some people long ago, has led me before you today. I'll be publishing this story in four parts, as I work to edit and restore the somewhat damaged text. Part I is found below": The first thing I remember seeing was her hair, flowing out from under a wide black hat, trailing down behind a matching black overcoat. I was just strolling through the streets like usual, stopping to listen to an occasional speech, but never contributing. It wasn't that I was trying to be quiet- I just didn't say anything for a long time. Didn't feel like it, I guess. Then I saw this bobbing brunette hair, long and dark and straight. She was walking in the other direction. For a minute I was glad. There's nothing worse than seeing a woman with beautiful hair, or a nice ass, or whatever, and then having her turn around and the sight of her makes you cringe just a bit. Not that there's anything THAT wrong with her, of course. But no one can ever live up to your imagination. Maybe that happens with women too- I wouldn't know. Anyways, maybe I was just bored that day. Maybe I had a tiny cramp that my brain thought I should work out. Who knows how many thousands of variables go into any given thing that happens, but I decided to follow her. I put my hands in the pockets of my coat and shoved off the wall I found myself leaning on. At least I'd dressed up today. Black pants, shoes, jacket. Brand new white shirt. And my deep green tie. Not only was it my lucky tie, it also let everyone know that I wasn't planning on going to a funeral. I checked my interior jacket pocket for the cocaine I was carrying and walked briskly down the road after the woman. Her hair looked like it was floating on the ocean, with the clear blue sky surrounding it. For a moment it looked like she turned back my way, but she must have been looking at something else, since she soon looked straight ahead and kept walking. Then I followed her around a corner and she was gone. I was able to stand around like an idiot with a puzzled look on my face for about three seconds before I felt the muzzle of a gun against the back of my head. I froze, and heard the low, musical voice of a woman say "Why were you following me? Are you one of Johnny's boys? Or just some creep?" Well, neither option seemed all that attractive to me. "Neither, ma'm. I was just wondering if you'd be interested in a poem..." For the first time, I heard her laugh. It reminded me of when I was a young boy, fishing with my father and hearing the stream's gentle murmur as it would glide over the rocks and continue on its way. Not wanting to end up like my father, who was sleeping with those fishes, I offered a chuckle of my own. This was promptly met with pain, as her pistol cracked down on my head and I heard her yell. "What kind of idiot story is that?! Johnny's boys are getting dumber and dumber." I felt the pistol against my head again, and I heard a deep intake of breath, as if she was steadying herself to pull the trigger. Then an exhalation, and she continued to speak. "You don't... look like one of Johnny's though. His are usually pushing forty and ugly as sin. Do you have any way of proving yourself?" Slowly, I began to fish through my pockets. I found an old, old poem from long ago that somehow wound up crumpled in a ball in my coat, and my business card from my boss out of town. I handed her the card and the poem, which was just a stupid little thing, but I figured it'd be better to deal with embarrassment than a bullet. To my chagrin, I heard her read it out loud. I heard her laugh again, and couldn't help but smile. I felt the gun move away from my head, and took a chance by slowly turning around. I was chuckling at my dumb little poem, but I promptly shut up. She was beautiful. |
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Part II: Her eyes were green and shining and her face looked like it was chiseled out of marble thousands of years ago by a Greek on whatever version of LSD they had back then. And her smile- some people just smile with their mouth while their eyes stare out at you like a fish, but she smiled with her whole face, if you get what I mean. I like to think I only stood there with my mouth open for a split second, but who knows. I eventually collected myself and checked her out. Because I was trying to figure out who she was, you know. I snapped my eyes away from her body as I heard her laughter die down. She had the gun, so you would think she'd be the one to ask questions. Couldn't help myself, though. "What's your name? And who's this Johnny?" Abruptly I saw her cut off her laugh and look seriously back at me. Finally lowering her gun, she started walking back out toward the street and talking. I quickly followed her. "My name is Luciana. Johnny is someone I don't want to talk about. What's your name?" "My name is Keats." "That's a funny sounding name", she said with a smirk. "It suits you." We walked together for awhile, with a comfortable silence stretched between us. I kept looking at her out of the corner of my eye and seeing her smile. Then I'd catch her looking at me and I'd smile. After a few minutes of walking I stopped in front of a little Italian place and addressed her with what I still like to believe was a wry, engaging smile. "If we're going to smile at each other, we might as well do it over a good meal. I'm starving." "You're the one smiling at me- I'm still laughing about your poem." She pushed by me into the eatery, and even though the smile stayed on her face, I could see her eyes coldly sweep over the patrons of the restaurant as her hand slid down to her leg and inch towards her gun, which was in a small holster at the small of her back. After we were seated I brought it up. "You know, I've never seen someone wear their gun on their back like that. How'd you come up with it?" "Just seems handy. I run the holster through my belt and angle it so it doesn't bother me when I'm sitting down. I tried wearing it under my shoulder once, but it's a lot less noticeable for a woman to make a move for her gun if it's away from her chest. Men always seem to stare, as you know." I snapped my eyes back up to make eye contact with her and gave a condescending shake of my head for my weak-minded gender. I kept up with the questions to hide the fact I was blushing, even though her smile seemed to signal I wasn't in trouble with her at all. "Why do you need a gun for anyways, Luciana? You almost put a bullet in me earlier, and when you walked into this place you looked like you were scouting out a warzone. What gives?" Her smile broke on her face, and my heart burst as I regretted asking the question, seeing the look of sadness that crawled over her face. "It's fine- I wanted to tell you, anyways." She took a deep breath, as our meals arrived, and began to speak as we intermittently picked at our food. "Well Keats, it's a long story. Hope you've got time...my father got mixed up in the mafia. My mother and my sister- we were hungry. There was no work for him. So he started doing jobs for this man Johnny Friendly. Johnny's a capo for the Don- a real asshole. Johnny, not the Don. He must have been bullied when he was younger, since he just throws his power around to seem like a big man. My father wasn't anyone important, not even a wise guy. But he was on a job with Johnny's cousin about a week ago, and Johnny's cousin wound up getting killed. I was visiting a friend across town... Johnny and his thugs came to my house. They set it on fire and the neighbors could hear Johnny shouting at my father, yelling about his cousin. My father ran out of the house, yelling that his wife and daughter were inside, and they shot him. Shot my mother and sister when they ran out after my father. When I got home later that night, the only thing left were ashes and the metal box that was under my father's bed. The neighbors told me what happened, so I went to the box and took out my father's gun. So I...I... I'm sorry- I need to take a walk." She got up quickly and walked towards the door. I tossed a few bills on the table and ran after her. It had started raining, and I could see the rain pounding on the street when I made it outside. Luciana was leaning against the restaurant window to my left, and when she saw me she gave me a small smile, and kept walking to her right, following the rain-battered sidewalk. It was darker now, with the streetlights almost coming on with the onset of twilight. Luciana had left her hat in the restaurant, but didn't seem to care. Her hair was quickly drenched, and I saw drops of water glide down her cheeks. She'd been crying, but wasn't trying to hide it from me. Walking to her left, I reached out my right hand. She seemed surprised as I wrapped my hand around hers, and I was ready to let go and apologize, but she put her head down as she was walking and grasped my hand tightly for a moment before relaxing her grip. We walked like this for a while, holding hands with our heads down, trying to keep the rain out of our eyes, and she started speaking again. "I took my father's gun, threw it in my purse, and went to a bar I knew Johnny's crew was usually at. I walked in, threw back a few quick shots for courage, and asked the bartender to let me back into the private room. He checked me out, smiled, and unlocked the door. It was dark in there and there were a bunch of people, but I saw the man that all the other ones deferred to. I thought it was Johnny. I sat next to him, drinking with him and his cronies. I rubbed his leg, whispered in his ear. Felt like I was going to throw up. Eventually, he took me out to the alley and started ripping at my clothes. I told him to turn around and face the wall for a minute and I'd show him a nice surprise. He was drunk- stood there for 2 minutes while I tried to figure out how to take the gun's safety off. I was only standing a few feet away but it still took me six shots to kill him. I ran away before the rest of the bar showed up. It's a good thing I held onto the gun, not that I could hit anything. He wasn't Johnny, just Johnny's RHM. Now there's a big price on my head and every goomba in the whole goddamn city is trying to kill me. I don't what to do. I've been trying to lay low for a week. Today is the first time I've been outside. I was coming from the train station when you saw me- I saw so many people standing around who looked suspicious, I just turned around without getting a ticket. Then I met you." She stopped short, realizing how long she'd been speaking without a response from me. I pulled her to a stop and looked down through the rain at her green eyes. She forced a smile up at me, but I could see the tears on her face mixing with the rain. I didn't know what to say, and her face seemed so close to mine. I slowly leaned down and kissed her. As our lips softly met, I could feel her freeze and tense up for a moment, and then lean forward into the kiss. Our arms reached out around each other, and I don't know how long we stood there in the rain. |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Dec 21, '08 15:45 | |
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Part III: I'm not sure if you've ever kissed someone with your eyes open before- it's kind of a strange thing. I like to think that most people subconsciously want to focus on their sense of touch, so they shut their eyes. But it's also creepy as hell to kiss someone while you're staring them down. Anyways, I'm not a world class assassin or anything, but I've been in more than a few rough spots and I've always been able to make it through. Part of the reason I'm still alive is that I pay attention to my environment. I don't know how long I kissed Luciana that day. It might have been 2 minutes, it might have been 5 minutes, it might have been 20 minutes. I don't know, but it felt like forever. Still does. But eventually I opened my eyes to check out my surroundings. It was lucky I did, too, because the first thing I saw was some big, meaty, greasy type a block away coming right for us with his right hand in his pocket. I narrowed my eyes so he couldn't see me looking at him, and felt my gun in my inside jacket pocket pressing up against Luciana's chest. Breaking off the kiss would have started this mug shooting, so going for my gun was out of the question. Slowly, I returned my attention to kissing Luciana, and slid my hands down her hips. I moved my hands around to grip her ass, and felt her arms around my neck pull me closer with excitement. Unfortunately, I couldn't enjoy that for very long, as my hands continued to move up to her back where her gun holster was. The guy was getting pretty close now, and as she felt my hand grip her gun, she started to stop kissing me to ask what I was doing. Before she could say something and get us both shot, I moved. My left hand pulled her across my body, as my right hand, now holding her gun, moved up and to the right out of her holster and towards the approaching man. I heard Luciana hit the grass on the side of the road next to me as the man raised his gun. I stepped in front of Luciana and started shooting into the darkening sky. My first bullet missed, above his head. The second and third hit him in the chest and dropped him, as he reflexively fired his gun into the street. Hearing a shout from up the street, I saw a group of a half dozen men start sprinting towards us. Helping Luciana to her feet, we took off running in the other direction. Not familiar with these streets, I pulled Luciana forward. There was a long brick wall stretching out on our right, and what looked like a warehouse to our left. I saw a car start to speed towards us up the street, with a man leaning out the window with a gun. Running diagonally left across the street, I stopped to fire a couple shots at the car before following Luciana into the warehouse. I ran in through the dark open garage door and saw her duck behind a stack of crates. The place seemed to be abandoned, so I stopped to catch my breath. Luciana slumped down on the ground, and I moved quickly down on my knee in front of her. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine", she gasped, "just tired from all that running. What do we do? There were so many of them." "I'll think of something", I muttered, as I took my gun out of its holster. Holding my more powerful gun in my shooting hand, I offered Luciana hers back with the other. Reaching out her hand and grabbing her gun, she stood up and stared at me. "You need to leave here. This has nothing to do with you- just get out of here while you can." Seeing a man peek around the corner, I snapped off a shot to send him scurrying back. "I'm not leaving you, Luciana. And even if I wanted to, I don't think they'd just let me walk out of here. I'm staying with you." As a scared look burst onto her face and she began to speak, I leaned in to give her a quick kiss and calm her. "Don't worry. I've been in tougher spots than this and I'm still here. I'm going to go keep them occupied at that door. You go check out the back of this place and see if there's a way out." She was still nervous as hell, but she held her gun up and gave me a shaky smile. "I expect you to write a poem about this when we get out of here." "I promise- now go check out the back before they get bored. Start shooting if there's any trouble and I'll come running." With Luciana gone, I let my emotions go and evaluated the situation. Around seven or eight men... at least I had some extra ammo on my belt. Creeping forward and to the right, I saw the shadows of several men outside the garage door, thanks to the nearby streetlight. Putting my gun down on the ground for a moment, I tilted a nearby barrel over on its side and kicked it hard out towards the road. Scooping up my gun, I ran towards the right of the doorway. As soon as the barrel rolled out into the street, I heard several gunshots ring out and hit its metal edges. At this moment, landing hard against the wall on the right, I was able to see four men standing to the left of the door. They were all looking at the barrel, though the glint from the moonlight on my gun drew the attention of the foremost one. Dropping to my knee, I took him first. My second and third shots took out two of the men behind him, and I rolled back into the darkness before the men on my side of the wall could figure out what was going on. As I returned to cover behind the crates and wait for Luciana, I heard male voices yelling. "YOU FUCKING BUMS! ONE MAN AND A LITTLE GIRL! GODDAMNIT!" "I'm sorry, Johnny! We're gonna get these assholes!" "I'll kill 'em both myself, boss!" Then their voices fell quiet, and I heard nothing for a minute until Luciana returned. She dropped down into a crouch and whispered to me excitedly. "I found the entrance to what looks like an alley in the back- we can get out that way, hurry!" Staying low, I followed her hunched form towards the back of the warehouse towards what looked like an administrator's office. Taking a brief look back, I couldn't see any trace of the men outside. Behind a tipped over file cabinet was a doorway. Climbing over the cabinet we found ourselves in a narrow alley, branching off to the left and right. "Which way?" Luciana asked, as she tucked a rogue strand of her dark hair behind her ear. I quickly turned to my left and right, looking down both sides of the long alley. Not knowing which way to go, but knowing that we needed to move, I grabbed her hand and we headed down the path to the right. We dodged past dumpsters and broken down cars, as the small path continued to lead us away from the warehouse, but with no way back to the street. I went first, helping Luciana over any obstacles that we encountered. The only sound was our labored breathing. Eventually a streetlight loomed ahead of us, and we stumbled out into a parking lot. It was full of armed men, with their guns raised towards us. I heard Luciana gasp, and a sinister chuckle floated up into the night. |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Dec 21, '08 15:46 | |
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Part IV: With my hands on my knees, I glared out at the men. There were five of them. One larger one in the middle, smoking a cigar with his arms folded. Two men on either side of him, with their guns aimed at Luciana and I. The fat one in the middle was laughing. He stepped forward, tossed his cigar on the cement, and ground it under his boot. He spoke in a nasally, almost wheezing voice. "Ahhhhh. The bitch and her new boyfriend. You two have caused me a lot of trouble. I'm going to enjoy killing you..." He kept talking. My eyes flashed to Luciana. I could see her trembling. Not long, now. When he was done talking, we were dead. Might as well interrupt the speech. With my right hand darting towards my gun inside my jacket, I leapt toward Luciana and knocked her over with my left shoulder. Dropping into a crouch and moving my gun towards the men I heard gunshots explode around me. My gun swept across from the left to the right, moving faster than it ever had before. It seemed like the world was moving so slowly. I hit the leftmost man in the chest with my first shot, my gun not stopping in its sweep, already pointing at the second man, who was spun down with my second shot. The fat man in the middle was still reaching for his gun, so my gun jumped towards the two on the right. I felt a bullet hit the meaty part of my left arm, and shrugged off the pain as best I could as I tried to focus. My third shot finally hit the next man on the right, and as I lined up the man furthest on the right I felt an explosion in my leg. Sagging a bit towards the ground, I snapped off my fourth shot and saw the man furthest on the right go down. I moved my gun back as quick as I could towards the middle, but even as it was moving I saw the fat man with his gun drawn. I felt it long before I heard it. The bullet slammed into the left side of my chest like a freight train. I gasped and tried to aim for one last shot, but the impact twisted and spun me, my final bullet heading harmlessly over the last mans head. I lay on my stomach with my left arm under me and my right stretched out helplessly towards Luciana. I looked at her, trying to say something, anything, but the world began to go black. I could feel my heart pumping blood out onto the concrete, and though I couldn't open my eyes to see her, I heard Luciana crawl over towards me and lower her head towards mine. I felt a light kiss on the corner of my lip, and heard her murmur that she loved me. That she was sorry. That she loved me. I tried to force my eyes open. I tried to push myself up. But I was starting to drift. I heard footsteps approach, and Johnny's voice begin to shout obscenities at Luciana. I could feel her hands try to hold on to my limp body as she was dragged away screaming. I heard a car pull up. I heard more shouting, and Luciana yelling. I gathered every ounce of strength in my body and tried to raise myself up on my right arm. But my hand slipped in my own blood, and I crashed back to the concrete. Then a gunshot, and I felt a body hit the ground next to me. I listened desperately for the sound of Luciana, but all I heard was the nasally voice of Johnny Friendly as he called out to someone else. "My Don, thank goodness you're here. These troublemakers nearly took down my entire- What's this, Don? WAIT! WHY-". He was cut off by a torrent of gunshots, and I heard a deep, powerful voice. "You all just saw Johnny Friendly murder an unarmed woman. This is not the work of an honorable man. This is the work of a monster. Let it be known that I will not be associated with anyone who would do such things. Find this woman's next of kin and give them enough money to provide a beautiful funeral service. This man, who died protecting her. Ensure that he will be buried next to her." As I drifted off into unconsciousness, I heard someone shout "He's still breathing!" and felt myself being lifted up into a car, and it was the last thing I heard for a very long time. I often wonder about that day. What would have happened if I never followed her. If she hadn't laughed at my poem, but just left me there and gone her own way. But mostly I think about that alley. Left or right. Where would we have wound up, if I'd taken her left instead? What could have been.? Would I have seen her smile through a wedding veil? Listened to her laugh on the beach as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear? Laying with her in the paramount quiet of the night, listening to our hearts beat in time... Luciana. I'm sorry.... |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Dec 21, '08 15:46 | |
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Mickey sat there for a long while before he began to speak. MacLeods findings of his fathers writing sparked something he once felt not long ago, when he lost someone close to him over nothing more than a power struggle. A heart felt tale Mr. MacLeod. Listening to this has really made coming out here in the streets today worth its while. He felt that a thank you was just not enough though. You have brought back memories to me, suppressed through all this time of work, business, staying alive...Can't thank you enough for reminding me that there is something more important out there than the next buck. I will miss her dearly. Mickey then handed Mr. MacLeod a roll of hard cash. Here you go, take it. Go get yourself a new suit. You can't have yourself dressed like that, your father wouldn't have it and neither would I. MacLeod took the money. Thank you Sir, he said, with which Mr. Rourke responded, No, thank you. |
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| Reply by: MickeyRourke at Dec 21, '08 16:21 | |
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| Thank you for sharing. You must be proud, your father did beautiful work. | |
| Reply by: HellovaTime at Dec 21, '08 17:19 | |
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