Red
The music of the coming rain did nothing to stall the blaring noises coming from outdoors. Blinding, never ending car light trails litter the roads, large blobs of light constantly slithering at a fast pace under the watchful smog filtered eye of the cityscape's horizon. Loud horns insistingly piercing through nearby ears, all impatient drivers wanting to reach home to their beloveds or close the door to the empty hallways of their pocket draining four walls. The midnight symphony could've been part of a lullaby any other time.
But not for me.
During these dark hours, everything is a hassle. Drinking. Breathing.
I should be asleep now. Without a care in the world.
My eyes are howling for some rest. Yet... I resist. Respite provides only a momentary sense of comfort.
These nights are too short for people like me.
I close my eyes, taking in another drag. It's been too long since I had any motivation to do anything.
Right or wrong.
35mm colour film. It was old fashioned. Very rare to procure, figures to own.
Leaving the burnt filter to die out in the ashtray, I push myself to place the back of my skull flat on the edge of my spine, waiting for the enlarger to turn on the light. Every day, every night, the darkroom in my shit apartment keeps getting filled with more negatives. More reels of ancient, highly flammable film, hang in labelled containers piled in the reachable shelves of the cupboard for further use. Steel cold tongs were methodically arranged onto cropped, guillotined printed paper in colder water. Every step, every move, every single day, moving the new picture until it developed completely under the warm red tones of the room's safe light.
All I could see was red.
Red.
Before taking the job, I never knew Red in my life. She seems like a sweet girl. Always surrounded by friends.
Always with a wonderful smile matching the brightness of her hair, the only colour that stood out in my vision of sight.
Even through the blackest ink, the colour is always there, making my hand and resolve falter every time, every night.
It would be wishful thinking to believe this was just a job.
And it is.
There was another woman once. I was still green, still fresh faced.
The distant memory makes me wistful and regretful, wanting to drown the vision down with numbing liquor.
I still remember the calm winds hovering above the sea and deck, vividly pale rays of a full moon simply not doing enough to compliment a woman dressed in white, standing by the bow of the ship. A gust of wind made her turn, anxiety forming on her brow, until she recognised who was now beside her.
Everything melted away, as the one she was waiting for turned all the heavy tension upon her shoulders into a wordless smile, happiness resting on her heart shaped lips, her opulent brows. I remember her gently taking a hand, a beautiful face covered with an expression filled with wonder and uncertainty, as she was drifted into a silent dance promising to keep the light shining in the darkest nights.
My hand was on the hostler, facing towards the flickering lights of the feast's decorations and guests.
Being aware of the newlyweds sharing a tender moment between them, having tied the knot in the middle of the ocean.
The joining of the established families Guillard and Lacroix was a union not approved by everyone.
But to the joy of the two people behind me, that did not matter.
They felt safe with me around.
They should have. I was Gerard Lacroix's main machine gunner. His favourite racketeer, if you will.
It was a rare thing to see him smile. It was rarer to see a man like him cry.
I understood. His tears fell with the notion of finding someone who could complete him, who could share the ups and downs of everyday life. Someone to endure the encompassing blues and make them pass, strengthening each other to incomparable heights.
Not everyone is as lucky.
My tears were hidden under the pretension of joy, layered beneath the pain of a thousand knives.
I was only green.
I was a natural in this line of work. It is how I got here.
It did not make me feel less than a fool.
Screams filled the deck. Through the confusion, bullets started to be ejected towards us. Distracted by my own misery, I was too fast to push the trigger, too distracted to look back.
A horrible scream filled my mind, echos in my ears and claws deep into my nightmares every night I attempt to shut eye. A stray shell had landed into the bride's abdomen, making her lean back out of reflex, hoping to find some support against the ship's cool iron barriers.
I run towards her. Gerard does the same. Two hands reach out for one, desperate to keep a shared love away from the greedy, uncaring chains of death. Gerard bellows a scream, more hard edged than mine. He was shot in the back. A jolt of pain hits my hip, making me reel in agony. Another bullet had buried itself into my body, blinding my sight, halting the reach of my hand.
The ringing sound of her scream still twists the sight of the full moon every night, making me see her descending form fall into a white reflection of the vast seas, forever disappearing from any perception of sight.
Gerard was more daring. Instantly removing his wedding coat and boots, both drenched in his own blood, he dived into the water, desperately wanting to save the woman of his life. Screaming her name and his, I could not believe what had just happened.
I had accepted I was garbage. A complete, utter failure. Though I loved her, I had to keep my thoughts in the past tense.
I had to. Unlike Gerard, I have a name not worth remembering.
I had accepted Gerard was perfect for Amelie. For her, him. Even if I met her before, I stood no chance.
It would've been folly to even try.
Gritting my teeth, I busted through all who turned the quiet wedding union from heaven to hell ruthlessly. One by one. Against all odds, I stood above rivers of blood. But in my desperation, I missed the last pistol. My chest burst into pieces, a shell going through flesh and bone, blowing a hole where my heart should be.
As I fell, the world turned upside down. The sea became my sky. Water replaced air, filling in my lungs.
I did not dare to fight death.
It is what I deserve.
They never found the body.
They found Gerard days after. Barely alive, barely human.
His humanity is in the past, forever gone. Gone with the loss of his beloved wife. Gerard has not smiled since that night. He goes by a different name now.
As for me...
To the world, I was dead. An urban legend walking amongst the shadows.
I still breathe. I assure you, these are not the words of a ghost. You are not going mad.
I check sometimes.
However. How am I talking to you if my heart had been torn into smithereens in the heat of the crossfire that painful night? This gaping hole... where my heart should be. It is powered by technological advances my non academic brain can understand with an "electronically charged" replacement. I call it the zapper. It does that when it reaches its lowest limits. Makes me feel I'm blinking and returning from the space of time. Sometimes I do it on purpose. Just to feel something.
For the doctors who saved Maximilien, that's the name my former employer goes by now, had also saved me. He owed me that much, he told me. But he also told me to skip town the day I was clinically dismissed.
Never to return to France again. One step back, and his men would mow me down in an instant.
And here I am. Back to the start. Back to the roots of my esteemed career. The billboard is full now.
Full of photos of a woman called Emily Lindholm Oats.
Even her name pains me.
Lindholm. Lindholm. The goddamned Swedish mafia. Of all factions she had to get indirectly involved with.
Guess who is on the payroll of the Bartalottis, the Lindholm family's most loathed rivals in the biz. Yes. Antonio is my current boss. Like the times I snapped rapid shots from the camera lens, Red was unaware she was related to the mob, even through her uncle. Ignoring the rain finally tinkling down upon dry streets and plant life outside my property, if you can call a hole property, I keep staring at all those photos.
Red is still smiling.
I'm back at the start. What have I gotten myself into?
