Love within Ashes

Chapter 3: Mr. Darcy

"Two days left to go to Florida. To go to see Mickey Mouse with Grandma. Whoo-hoo. I am so excited," I thought sarcastically sitting on the couch like a lazy sloth.

I was reading some medieval stories, and I loved Tristan and Isolde’s. Something that I couldn’t easily let go, was the entire slow motion moment that I had in the street when I went shopping. I mean, I just can’t stop thinking about that man. He was just so alluring in every move that I was just captivated by his presence. Bob have been home late recently, and he’s never late. He is always home at 3:12 pm. He acted strangely and it was in some type of panic. Every time the door bell rang he jumped out of his seat. Sometimes it was funny but now it was bugging me. But I didn’t gave it so much importance as I did to my brother. He always snuck out and begged me to keep silence, and when he came he laid on his bed dead and smelled like beer. Bob didn’t care for anything and didn’t bother that he was going out at night, but I did. Since I only got left two days in this place I decided that I was going to go out with my brother, without him knowing. I will follow him and discover where does he goes so late at night.

It was 9:00 pm and Bob was already sleeping on his recliner. I pretended to be asleep, I was already dressed with a t-shirt and jeans and waited for my prey. As usual, Paul took his jacket and he climbed the window and, like a cat, he procured not to produce any sound. I had an eye open so I saw everything. As soon as he jumped off the window, I followed him. I took my jacket and let my hair down so he wouldn’t easily recognize me (since I always had a pony tail or a bun). He was walking skillfully in the direction of a corner near the apartment. Bob told me that there was a dangerous bar there, and advised me not to go in there if I didn’t wanted to see gangs. And I didn’t, at the time, but now I had been thinking, “Maybe I want to see this man again, maybe he’s not a gangster, maybe he is, maybe he’s in that bar, or maybe he isn’t”.

Suddenly Paul stops by a bar called Four Roses. He tried to get in but somebody didn’t let him.

“Maybe they know he’s a minor," I kept thinking, me and the maybe’s.

Then, Paul decided to go to the back, and I followed him. The back door was closed and he threw a short tantrum. I was skeptical about the reason he was there but at the same time I had faith that he had a good reason. But always skeptical.

“Hey! You!” I yelled to my scared little brother as he flinched and turned to see me.

“Fuck! Hey, dude, I was going, I was going! I’m going to go now!” Paul raised his hands up, he didn’t recognize me.

“Paul, get your minor butt down here!” I said while I patted my foot.

“Emma? For Peter’s sake! What the hell are you doing here?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m older than you, I have my right to have fun. Besides it’s past your bed time. C’mon, I’ll read you your favorite story, Pinocchio’s!" I said laughing while Paul punched me in the shoulder.

“Hey! I’m a lady, you ass!”

“You are? You don’t seem like one! Yeah, lady my ass!”

“Oh, you are so dead!”, I said bitter smiling (knowing that that was the beginning of our mini wrestle war).

He ran and I chased him like we were little kids. Imagine that! We were playing tag in some filthy alley with graffiti everywhere. Then, a group of men came walking by the alley. We saw them, walking, laughing, and jesting. We standstill in the middle of the alley, completely froze and the only thing we heard were our fast racing heartbeats, that I am sure that those men could hear. One of the men that was left behind, saw us.

“Yo, we got some fucking shit over here”, said the scaring man with a clannish tattoo on his face.

The troop he called answered him by walking towards him to see what he was pointing out. They stood with a controlling attitude blocking our only way out. Paul grabbed my hand and I grabbed his.

“Emma, run! Run, now! I’ll settle this! Just run!” ordered my little brother as he tried to be in control.

I was going to obey his command just because of the fear trembling over my mind and taking control of my senses. I almost try to run, but I stopped. Who was I kidding? Paul was only 15! He could be killed and he was the only loved one I got. I pushed him to my back and confronted those men who were getting closer. One took his knife out, and another showed his gun with a grin on his face.

Definitely, wrong time, wrong moment to be there.

“Take this! It’s yours! But please leave us alone. It’s all I have but please take it!” I supplicated while I tossed my purse in the floor.

One of them picked it up and started to laugh evilly. I was scared. Paul was more scared than I was. OK, we both were the same scared.

“What the fuck is going in here?” asked a man that it was behind of all the men who were blocking us from our only exit.

The one with the tattoo on his face pointed us with his chin. Two men that were in the middle made space for the man behind them and he walked charmingly yet overshadowing everyone else, which made him attractive yet feared. As he walked, he lighted a cigarette, and came to us but kept distance. With his cigarette on his mouth, reclined his head and looked at us like we were pathetic to him. I gain some posture and courage to face him, and to look at him in the eyes, although he was like 4 feet away, it felt that death was just a centimeter away as well. I double looked him, and I recognize his tattoo and bald head. It was the guy from a couple of weeks ago! It was him! I don’t know what I felt, if it was happiness to see him again, or fear of him being the last thing I see before I die. I don’t know, either, if he recognized me. What was I thinking? Wait! He saw me, when I stared at him and he told me to get lost with his stare. But nevertheless it didn’t matter anymore, why would he recognize me? I didn’t have an effect on him like he did on me.

He gazed at me but I couldn’t see his eyes, of course I know he was looking at me, Paul was behind my back trying to hide from them, and I was the only one there facing them and for a moment I felt comfortable at his stare. Just for a moment.

“Do you fucking want a goddamn sticker, Tommy? Do you see a fucking Cutty around here? Some gang rival, huh? Shit, Tommy, you want to fight her? Like hell, she would kick your fucking ass in no time, right?”, he said with a resonant deep voice that was shooting those words to the now looking humiliated man, while the others snickered.

“Let them go, we got better things to fucking deal with”, commanded the tall man who was obviously the leader of the gang.

He glanced at me for the last time and lead the way as the others followed him. I exhaled relieved and so did Paul while he hugged me as I hit him in the head.

“Don’t ever , ever, ever, sneak out! Do you hear me? We could have been killed! Let’s go home!” I ordered him while he looked down at his feet showing me that he was ashamed.

That night he told me that he was sorry and that he would never do it again. He snuck out because of a hooker that was there. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that. A hooker? I was totally disappointed. He knew it and tried to make it up by packing my stuff and acting chivalrously. I was not that mad, after all he was a teenage boy with his hormones blowing up. We packed and were all settled to go to the airport when, suddenly, Bob received a call and went upstairs to attend the call. He was acting more strangely today than yesterday. We heard him barking and then apologizing. I try to ignore those weird symptoms in him, just because we were going to Florida and we were going to leave Bob with his issues behind. We moved every box to the sidewalk when unexpectedly Bob’s car disappeared. It was not parked in the front of the apartment.

Paul and I looked at each other confused. And then, Bob came down the stairs with a travel case on his hands.

“Where’s the car?” Paul asked while he frowned at Bob.

“Oh, I sold it. I forgot to tell you guys. But I called a taxi so, don’t worry," responded coolly.

“Is something wrong, Bob?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, another thing, I’m going with you guys. She’s sick and worried about me so I want to go and see her. I hope you guys don’t feel bad about this late information. It was all planned out all of the sudden," said with jolliness our weird uncle as he smiled to the taxi that parked near us.

Paul shouted in cheer and hugged Bob, you can tell that they are really close. As they were putting all the luggage in the taxi’s trunk, I was looking for my purse, when I remembered that last night that gang took my purse. In my purse there was the book “Emma” , which was my favorite, my notebook, where I wrote down my feelings (not a diary, that’s just pathetic, the only diary I feel that can be justified is Anne Frank’s), and some perfume sample that I had for special occasions, also there was a an album of me (believe it or not I had my girly side, and I liked to take pictures of me with my instant camera. It was the only good memory of my, what used to be, happy family) and in that album I wrote what I liked about me and hated about me as well, It was a good exercise to get to know myself better.

“Oh, my”, I mumbled, “Florida, here I come, and Mickey, I think you’ll be my Mr. Darcy.”