Big Shots and Bullet Holes by B David Spicer

Author:B David Spicer [Spicer, B David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949281101
Publisher: Mystery and Horror, LLC
Published: 2020-04-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

I stood in the hall as Paolo descended the stairs, and then I turned to the window in the hall opposite them, saw him leave the building and flag down a cab. Just as the car pulled away, I watched him turn around in the seat to look back toward my building. I touched the cold windowpane with my fingers as the hack carried him away from me.

As I paused there trying to rebuild the disassembled parts of myself, I caught sight of something, a tiny speck of glowing orange, like the cherry fire at the tip of a cigarette. Someone stood across the street under the shoe store’s awning, and that someone was looking up at me, or at least at my building. “Damned Feds.” Slamming my door felt like an appropriate thing to do, but that would earn me another tongue lashing from Mama Jose, and I needed that like I needed a hole drilled in my face.

Paolo’s scent lingered in my room. When I closed my eyes, I found it easy to imagine he still stood there in front of me. Of course, when I reached my hand toward his body, I found only his absence. I undressed, sat on my bed and took the little shoebox out of my trunk. I opened it and sifted through the memories it held, most of which were photographs. I picked up the one of Paolo and me at Coney Island. Then the one of us on the Ferris wheel at the State Fair. I went through them slowly, remembering, smiling, weeping.

That cardboard box held more pain for me than I can explain, and when I found the lock of Mary’s hair, I clutched it to my breast and rocked back and forth, a study in misery. She’d had the most beautiful blonde hair, golden as a sunrise in Heaven. All that remained of it, all that remained of her, could fit in my clenched fist. I squeezed that lock and wept for her until sleep stole my sorrow.

The howling blast of a black-and-white’s warbler tore me out of slumberland. I sat up in the dark and listened to the sound drift away. My wristwatch claimed the sun would be rising soon, so I forced myself to stand up. Photographs littered the floor, so I had to pick them up and put them back in their shoebox. I pressed Mary’s hair to my lips for a moment, then put it in the box as well. I scrounged up my robe and covered my nakedness before opening my door. Before continuing to the shower, I took a peek through the window. Sure enough, my tail still stood under the shoe store’s striped awning. “Damned Feds.” I stomped toward the bathroom for my morning rituals, then returned to my room, dressed, and opened the shades. The sun had cleared the building across the street and stared me straight in the face. I turned my back on it and smoked cigarettes until Paolo knocked on the door.

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