Three
Falling
Cal and Danny sat in the apartment until the sun came up,
listening.
A police car went past a couple of times, slowly. They could imagine
the occupants of the car scanning the streets, looking for something
that was six floors up and cowering in fear.
Eventually, they fell asleep.
Danny woke up first, with a start. He looked out the window, saw the
world going by as it always had.
He looked around, wondering where the shot had gone. Where the bullet
had ended up.
He dreaded to think what could have happened. Clumsy, drunk idiots with
a gun.
Danny looked over at his friend.
Cal slept on the sofa, snoring softly. His nose looked red and swollen,
but the cut on his face looked much better. They'd tried to clean it up
last night, when their shakes had disappeared. Danny would walk with
him to the ER later, to get his nose set. He winced, just thinking
about how much that would hurt.
The gun was locked in the safe, under the chair. Secure. Not
dangerous.
No, he thought. It would always be dangerous. A gun sitting doing
nothing is just waiting to be dangerous. Paused, like a cd. Waiting,
patiently for someone to press play. Danger waiting to happen.
A gun is never a safe object. Ever.
Cal rasped so loudly that he woke himself up. Danny jumped at the
noise, thinking for a moment it was Cal's death rattle.
Consciousness returned slowly to Cal's face, then he remembered last
night, felt his nose and whimpered softly.
"Morning, handsome," said Danny.
Cal shrugged.
"Just makes me look more interesting."
Danny was still standing by the window. He looked back out.
"No one seems to have noticed. Last night," he added, as if Cal
wouldn't know what he was talking about.
"Good. Doesn't unbreak my nose, though."
Danny grinned.
"No, I get to watch the doctors do that to you in an hour or so. Want
to eat first?"
Cal thought for a moment.
"Better not. I'll probably puke once they, you know, do it."
He tapped his nose gingerly.
"What about the gun?" he asked then.
Danny shrugged.
"I don't know. But I have to get rid of it."
Cal stood, stretched painfully.
"How?"
----------
The trip to the hospital was short and sour.
Cal screamed loudly once when the nurse set his nose. He was pale when
he came out of the treatment room.
"That," he told Danny, "was fucking shit."
Danny treated his friend to a big breakfast, which raised Cal's spirits
considerably.
Life was back to normal, more or less.
But, as it always had since he found it, Danny found his thoughts
always creeping back to the gun.
Cal watched his friend carefully as he sipped his coffee.
"So. Decided what to do with it yet?" he asked.
If Danny looked surprised at his friends telepathy, he didn't let it
show.
"No. Not really. I doubt if those bikers last night will report us, but
still. You know. Maybe we should move to a different town. Country. You
know."
Cal delicately wiped his mouse with a napkin. Cross-eyed, he tried to
stare at his repaired nose.
"Does this look big?" he asked. Then added, with raised eyes, "bigger
than normal?"
Danny ignored him.
"I can't give it to the police now. Not after last night,
anyway."
Cal nodded.
"That's true. Just dump it back where you found it."
Danny thought about this.
"That might work. I'll do it tonight," he said.
Cal sighed.
"Good. Then we can just put all this behind us."
----------
Danny left Cal at the cafe, and walked home alone. It was still early,
not yet noon, and Danny had little to do today. Saturday was always a
quiet day for him.
He used to spend it in bed with...
He sighed deeply. The panic of last night had, for a while, pushed his
thoughts of Rachel away. But they were back now, worse than ever. He
could smell her perfume on his coat, mixed with damp city smoke
and...
He sniffed deeply at the collar of his jacket.
Cordite. Gunpowder. Whatever made the bullets fly.
God. If he could smell it, who else could?
He walked into the first laundrette he found, and cleared the pockets
of his jacket, which got thrown into a washer with about twice as much
soap as it needed.
He sat and watched the jacket get exorcised of smells- gun, lover,
city.
When it was done, the jacket just smelled of soap. It made him feel
better on many levels.
----------
The apartment was still there. The gun was still there. Safe.
The picture of Rachel that used to be on top of the TV was gone. It had
been there this morning.
Danny looked around, checked to see what else was missing. Nothing
else.
A note was scotch-taped to the refrigerator door. It had Rachel's
handwriting, and there was her scent again.
Danny sat at the kitchen table, and opened the letter.
Rachel explained in her smooth flowing handwriting how she had seen the
picture of her still up on the TV the other day when she was in
collecting her stuff. She'd thought about it, and realized that it
wasn't the healthiest thing for it still to be there. She realized that
she'd not left her key that last time (and Danny had noticed, wondering
what it had meant- clearly, nothing) and this time she'd leave it in
the usual place. She'd take the picture, which she assured him would be
doing him a favor.
He looked over at the fridge, and saw her key hanging off the magnetic
key-holder thing that they had brought back from their holiday that
time. So long ago.
The note said goodbye, good luck and sorry.
Danny held it up to his nose, inhaled deeply.
The note then got rolled into a crispy ball and landed neatly in the
wastepaper basket across the kitchen.
----------
Danny took the gun out some time later that evening.
He placed it on the table, and stared at it, deep in thought.
It was inherently a thing of destruction. He'd decided that.
But last night, it had probably saved Cal's life. Maybe Danny's too.
That was at odds with the idea of it being totally without redemption.
Maybe guns were also made to save lives.
He wrapped it up, and placed it in his jacket pocket.
But it was over now. He'd take it back to where he'd found it, leave it
there and go on with his life.
----------
He waited until it was dark before he left. It was a three mile walk,
but he felt like walking. He had a lot to think about. Mostly
Rachel.
After five minutes, he wondered if he was being followed.
After ten, he knew he was. His heart pounded, and it was all he could
do to not run.
But then, maybe running was a good idea.
He turned a corner, then ran as fast as he could across the nearly
empty street into a shop doorway, then tried to hide as best he could,
trying not to breathe, not to give anything away. He watched the corner
he had come around, waiting to see who it was.
A tall figure walked around the corner, took a few steps and paused,
looking around. The figure seemed confused for a moment, continued in
the direction Danny had been headed. He walked past on the other side
of the street, and Danny watched him go.
Recognition came. Rachel's new boyfriend.
The gun felt heavy. Danny had nearly forgotten he was carrying it since
he realized he was being followed.
He reached into his pocket and held onto it tightly.
Then he walked after Rachel's new boyfriend.
----------
The man stopped walking after a minute, he turned to face Danny and
smiled. It was a grim sort of smile.
Danny wasn't smiling. He stopped, and stared at the man. Tall, brown
hair. Well built. Danny had considered him 'beefy' yesterday, but he
was leaner than that.
"Danny?" asked the man. Danny nodded.
"I'm Kelly," said Kelly.
"Why are you following me?" asked Danny. Kelly smiled again. It didn't
look good on him.
"You're following me," he said. Danny sighed.
"Whatever. Just tell me why you're here."
Kelly took a couple of steps towards him. Danny held the gun, held his
ground. Something inside wanted to pull the gun out and empty the last
three shots into this guy. A sudden red anger filled Danny. He didn't
move.
"Rachel and I... well, we're together now," he said, watching Danny
carefully, "and I just want to make sure you're completely clear about
that."
Danny said nothing.
"I helped her move her stuff from your place the other day, and I
noticed you still had her picture up on your television. I suggested to
her that she should probably go back and take it, too. For your sake,"
he said, and smiled again.
It wasn't a dangerous smile, not really. Grim wasn't really accurate
either. It was a smile that didn't crease the skin around the eyes. It
wasn't a real smile. It was empty, without truth.
"Nice of you," was all he managed to say.
"So," continued Kelly, "we're all on the same page, then."
Danny knew then that Kelly was a corporate drone. His looks, demeanor,
stupid turns of phrase. This entire confrontation. The guy was all
about control. He had to control Rachel's past by stalking it and
threatening it on a dark city street late at night. He'd probably end
up controlling Rachel. God help her if she didn't like it.
Danny stared at Kelly for a moment.
Then, surprisingly, a fairly witty retort came to mind.
"We're not even reading the same book," he said.
Kelly blinked.
"What?" he asked.
Danny raised an eyebrow. It had been wasted on this guy.
"Rachel left me. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not going to waste my
time trying to get her back. I miss her a lot, I thought she and I had
something really unique, but hey, she left me, and now you have her.
Good for you. Now, fuck off."
Moments passed.
"Don't mess with me, Danny. You'll regret it. Come near Rachel again,
and I'll really hurt you."
Danny laughed. It was funny. The gun in his pocket, in his hand in his
pocket was like a private joke that Kelly would never get.
A dangerous silence fell upon the scene. Kelly reached into his jacket
pocket and pulled out a gun.
"I warned you," he hissed.
Bang.
Two left.
