Run towards the gun

'Run towards the gun'
Written by Jonathan Ball

Thinking back, I used to be petrified of guns.

"Phone", Carly screeched. I hadn't even finished with my weird dream
yet. It involved me, as all of them seemed to, walking aimlessly from
house to house in this derelict town. Searching for what, I don't know.
It was a sort of Resident Evil type place where nothing ever happened,
but underneath the surface there was something not quite right. You
could feel it boiling under the surface of every house or landmark.
Outside one of the houses, a mesmerizing grey Victorian mansion that
stood Jack in the Beanstalk-like as high as the eye could see, were
four pathways. Three of the paths led via varying paths directly to the
house. The fourth however took a different course, through the dark
forest behind the house. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to
take the easier road.

I removed the maelstrom of sheets from around my frame and discarded
them onto the floor. Reaching aimlessly for the clock I realized how
much I'd had the previous evening. As usual the vodka lay dormant; we
never ever got that far. Next to it laid the remains of a gram. I can't
even remember what it was.
Like all other addicts, I began small. A joint here and there with
friends, then a few pills when going out, now look at me I owe ?750 for
over usage of Charlie and Ketamine. I mean how can one person spend
?750 on horse tranquillizers?

The clock dial flashed 6.30 at me. There was only ever one person who
called at 6.30.

Carly arrived at the door and stood like a roman statue.

"Yeah, I get the point", I actually didn't, not this time. I just
couldn't see the point in getting up. It would only be Rico wanting his
money. I pranced semi-naked to the phone.

As I expected the line was dead. He wanted it that way. As soon as
Carly had shouted me, Rico and the guards would have been on their way.
I hated doing this to Carly but I knew I had to get out fast. She could
handle herself.
I threw on my blood red sweatshirt that my aunt knitted for me last
Christmas. You should have seen me, I looked awful. Even the mirror
grimaced. Of course I didn't see it then.
I had nowhere to go, all I knew was I didn't want to be around when
Rico arrived. As I left the house the dew on the grass winked at me,
like a precious stone. I decided to go see my girl, Emily. She was a
gem; don't know how I found her. Her eyes were so beautiful. She used
to think I was crazy when I said it to her.

Not any more.

Her scent was unique, I don't mean Gucci Rush, I mean her true scent.
It was a sort of cinnamon bubblegum cross. I needed to see her, tell
her I was clean. Besides I knew the last place Rico would have looked
for me was his own home.

Of course he wasn't home; the black Ford Mondeo that usually hugged the
driveway was vacant.

Emily wasn't happy to see me, she never was.

"You shouldn't come here!" she shouted at me. I don't know why but I
loved it when she shouted, it gave her an authoritarian stance. She
looked like an apple on a tree when she was angry, just ready to ripen.
"He's after you again isn't he?" she continued. I didn't like lying to
her.

"I just needed to talk to you; I know it's a risk". Either I sounded
desperate enough or she spotted the icicles running down my cheeks. She
invited me in.
I'd never seen the inside of Rico's house before; we'd always gone
elsewhere because of who I was and what we were doing. I never expected
it to be so?organised. There were several filing cabinets in neat order
by a big pine desk. I wandered over and noticed that each draw had a
neat label on the front. I could imagine the files inside were in date
order.

There were professional photographs of Rico and Emily spread across the
living room walls. I wish I had the courage to take one. I loved her
and I knew that in some way she loved me back, but there was still that
something, that little candle burning away under the skin.

"You look like a piece of shit?" she caressed my hair "why do you do
this? You're so beautiful" she paused and scanned the room.

I wish I'd had an answer for her, but I didn't. I'd gone there that day
to tell her I was sorry for doing this to her, but I couldn't
disappoint her. I'd really tried to give up that month, I really did.
When you were at my stage, it was difficult.
I can't even remember how we met, she always reminded me. I was
probably so fucked when I met her.

It takes a brave man to look back upon his whole life and realise he
fucked the majority of it away. That what he did was probably for the
best anyway. No matter how extreme it was.

There was a loud screech outside the window and Emily went to
investigate. It was Rico.

I don't know how I felt. I wanted to stand up to him and say 'Rico you
can fuck your money up your arse, and I'm screwing your daughter'. On
the other hand the more sensible me just wanted to run, as far away
from this life as possible, just to run. I'd often thought about it.
What it would be like to just run and run forever. I imagined a little
place beyond the sea where only someone who was continuously running
could get to. A place with a little beach house and a magnificent pier.
I could have taken Emily. My head began to pound.

Emily was the one panicking.

"Get out the back". I ran through the kitchen knocking three New York
Yankees mugs over in the process.

"Shit" I wailed.

"Emily", He called out. He was in the house already. He had heard the
crash and came running to the kitchen. That was when I saw him. His
deep faced stared into mine as I passed the window. I heard him shout
at Emily "What was that wanker doing here?"

I was long gone by the time his guards arrived.

*********************************

I was running for England, in the 800 metres but when I got to the
finish line I carried on running. The judges looked at me in
astonishment.

Like I was mad.

I ran across the javelin pitch, in front of a pole vaulter before
climbing over the fence. Once over the fence I continued running, down
the high street. I passed the greengrocers, the butchers and the video
store. I headed for the motorway, just running.

The sea appeared; a lilac blue curtain of water. I continued running,
just to see if it was true. The water wasn't that hard to run through
once I'd found out how. I was running, forever. When I'd almost given
up hope I saw her. Emily. Sitting on the beach, just lounging. Their
was a magnificent house glittering behind her on the hillside. She had
a small child by her side who called me daddy. It made me smile.

I knew this place existed.

****************************

I woke on a pile of rubble off Hunter Street. My head was getting
worse. It had gone from a headache to a sharp bullet like pain, believe
me I should know. I didn't know how much time had elapsed but it was
now dark. The bright lights of the casino were the first thing that
caught my eye as I exited that alleyway. I'd often tried before, to
double my money. I only had my social with me, but double my social was
better than none of it.

The roulette table was always my tipple. I had no idea what the rules
of poker were and craps was just a load of?well, crap. I wandered up to
the table with my chips in my hand. Oh they saw me coming. My red
sweatshirt was creased criss-cross down the front. They knew what I
was. Everybody in there knew what I was.

There was only me and a balding fat guy at the table and from the look
on his face, he wasn't having the best of times.

I watched a few times. That's what all the big time gamblers did. 13
Black, 44 Red, 16 Red, 27 Black. I ventured closer to the table, the
croupier noticed it too and acknowledged my presence at the table. A
few observers also edged closer. They always liked the pros. I placed
all my chips on red; I thought I'd start easy and double my money. The
croupier looked around the table to see that there were no more bets
and spun the silver ball. The ball spun, the wheel slowed, the ball
bounced. 24, 15, 27, 50, 12, it didn't want to settle. A few onlookers
rushed forward to the table, I couldn't see it.

"Number 26 Red" the croupier announced. I cheered, as did a few of the
congregation. I decided to take my winnings and walk away.

"Leaving us already sir?" the croupier winked at me. He wasn't a bad
looking man. He was of a small build, Greek in origin, I could tell
that much. He had a quaint sort of stubble clinging to his chin. "?you
can't just walk away when you're onto a good thing". He was good at his
job, if only I'd have seen that then; maybe I'd have left that
casino.

I placed a ?60 chip on number 17, just Emily's age. And I thought ?60
is not gonna pay off Rico. If I can times that by 8 then maybe that
figure will keep him off my back for a while. The balding man smiled at
me and backed away from the table to mingle into the crowd. The
croupier rolled the ball around the wheel.

The sound of the ball rolling around screeched through my head. And the
clanking of the ball hitting the wheel. Where were the painkillers when
you needed them? The ball stopped. At last peace for my head! Then
there was an almighty cheer. It was 17, just as I predicted. I had won
?480. I almost cheered myself, but that's when I saw Rico.

I grabbed my chips and ran. I didn't get far. Three of his monkeys were
stood by the door. Of course Daniello Campagno was one of them; he was
Rico's main guard. The other two looked Fijian. One of them almost
resembled Jonah Lomu, but bigger. I couldn't contend with that. I
bolted in the opposite direction. I was stopped obviously, isn't that
the way the story always goes?

However, this time it was the fat man from the table. He too had
guards, five in total.

"Whatever this man has done to you?"

"He doesn't have the balls to be a man" Rico butted in.

"Well whatever he has done to you, call off this vendetta" I remember
Rico's face as if I were there again. He was always a methodical man
and what ever he wanted happened. It was the first time I had outdone
him. My life was in debt to the fat man.

For that moment anyway.

I ran out of the casino as fast as I could. Like my dream I just wanted
to run, to the sea, to my good life. I could feel them running behind
me. The two Fijian's weren't the fastest, but Daniello could always
keep pace with me, I knew that. I ran, past the butchers, underneath
the railway arches. I wanted to go to the motorway, to the sea, to my
home.
Fuck he was quick; he was closing in on me. I could feel him breathing
down my neck. I hurdled the fence. My head was getting worse. It was
like a stick of chalk screeching across a blackboard. I grimaced, but
only for a few moments. I was being chased after all. I tried to
quicken the pace but I wasn't the fittest of all people. I didn't even
run for buses.

I knew I was slowing, but not that much. My trousers were dripping wet.
I turned the corner onto the square.

Shit he was within an arms length of me. I carried on running, the
breathing faded, my head didn't. I stopped and turned. Daniello was
standing still.

If only I'd have seen their trap.

There were only three roads into the square. What I wouldn't have given
for a fourth road. A dishevelled pathway leading off into the dense
forest. Covering the two roads furthest away from me were the two
Fijian's and of course behind me was Daniello. Rico was stood by the
cenotaph in the middle of the square. My head drummed like a
supporter's band. It was constant, drum, drum, drum.

The whole thing reminded me of Sergio Leone and the spaghetti westerns.
This was my showdown at noon. I remember thinking Rico resembled the
Cenotaph at that moment. Strong and tough.
He held his gun tight. "Give me the money you won Marian. Then you only
owe me ?300"

I don't know why I did it. It was a voice from above, or inside. Deep
inside. I guess it wasn't even me doing it. It twinkled in front of me.
To this day I don't even know what it was. It could have been a
crowbar, or an old fashioned drain pipe. All I knew right now was this
was my way out. Go out in style Marian, Go out in style. I gripped it
and began running, straight at Rico. He jumped backward; I guess he
didn't think it would actually come to this. I was running, onto the
motorway, through the sea. It wouldn't be long before I reached home.
My head pounded. All the bombs in the world exploded in my head that
night.

I carried on running, for England; I could see my desert land. I could
see Emily. Beyond the sea. The guards backed away, as did Rico. I'd
never seen him scared before. It was a good feeling.
My legs began to ache and my head was at the worst it had ever been.
Big bang two was erupting in my head.

God I was closer than I had ever been to home now. I raised the object
above my head. I could see now more clearly just how scared he was. He
shook on the spot where he stood as a trickle of sweat rolled down his
cheek.

10 yards. This is it Marian. Brace yourself. Go out in style.

Like I say, a long time ago, I used to be petrified of guns.