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The Last Night
Daniel Yetman August 25, 2010
Fireworks being shot off across the harbor add to the brilliance of the night. Each particle displaces through the sky with an unmatched superlativeness—the lights give purpose to this evening; all the celebrations of Natal Day seem to end as the entire population of Halifax hangs in anticipation. Green, red, violet, magenta, blue and yellow lights spill over the stars leading to romance and couples holding hands.
“Slow down” Emma shouts after Darren as the two run down the wharf passing Pier 21 and approaching the ferry terminal.
“No I can almost see them, look! Just let us get around this building.” He responds.
“Do you see them?” She asks.
“Yes, I can just barely make them out; they’re above the horizon!”
Three more fireworks go off before they finish for the night. The smell of sulfur floats across the harbor from the Dartmouth side long after the lights can be seen. People on the wharf slowly disperse, chattering to themselves and trying to figure out how they’re getting home.
“Was it worth it?” Emma asks while putting her arm around Darren’s waist and burying her face in the shoulder of his sweater.
He turns her until they are face to face and kisses her right cheek then her lips, savoring the moment. She looks deep into his eyes, almost pass him.
“What was that for?” She asks.
“It was definitely worth the trip.” He says plainly, ignoring her last question completely.
She blushes but the night does a good job hiding it and not even Darren notices the subtle redness of her cheeks. A feeling of warmness fills her heart as she grabs his hand. Her hand feels fragile underneath his; her fingertips only come up to the middle knuckle of his.
The young couple continues to walk down the boardwalk, enjoying the night and staying close to each other for warmth in the cooling August night. Though still midsummer, autumn seems to be quickly creeping forth.
Stopping for a lemonade slushie (that they share) they sit down on a rusting green bench facing the harbor. The night air is filled with conversation—people having a late supper and a few drinks, enjoying their day off work.
“You hungry?” Darren asks her while putting his arm around her.
“No I’m fine.” She smiles.
Although they have been together for nearly six months the tininess of her frame still surprises him. She seems so fragile underneath his arm he’s almost afraid of breaking her by accident. The width of her shoulders mustn’t be any more than half of his.
She shivers almost unnoticeably and he rubs her arm to keep her warm. Her upper arm is soft beneath his hand; her blue, fleece hoodie feels almost silk-like as his hand glides effortless in small circles.
“Do you want to go? You’re cold.”
“No I’m fine, I like it here. You’re keeping me warm anyways. Let’s stay here a little bit longer.” She snuggles against him tightly.
The look she gives him drives him crazy; it makes his heart twirl on the inside—makes time stand still.
Passion runs through his body and he bends his head down close to her ear and whispers three words to her.
“I love you.” His voice comes out flatly and matter-of-factly. The words speak for themselves; there is no need to dress them up or hide them in a pile of clichés. It’s the first time he has said them to her—to anyone for that matter.
She looks up, stunned slightly but not overly surprised. She has known for a long time that Darren loves her; she has known for as long as she knew she loved him. Her questioning look quickly turns to a smile and she giggles softly. Darren looks nervous, his face long as though he has no idea she feels the same. He looks so cute she can’t help but laugh again.
“I know.” She leaves it at that until he looks like he is about to speak again.
“I love you too.” Emma finally responds.
He sighs, almost in relief and holds her closer. The two stay locked in each other’s grip, watching pedestrians walk by and the smoke clear from the fireworks that were shot off a lifetime ago.
The people eating at the restaurant across the wharf are just close enough to be within earshot. The voice of an older woman eating with her presumed husband is overheard by the young couple.
“Look dear, isn’t that cute.”
Darren and Emma look at each other and then smile and nod at the woman.
“We should go soon.” Darren hints.
“I know.”
“Come on lets go.” Already standing himself he pulls her up from the bench flirtatiously, catching her hand and interlocking his fingers with hers in one smooth motion.
People are starting to exit the restaurant, leaving half eaten pasta dishes on the table along with several dollars—an expected surprise for the servers. The streets, which were moments ago busy and bustling, start to become empty. Traffic quickly becomes chaotic as everyone tries to leave at once. In all the chaos the inevitable happens; they walk down the wharf into a slightly more isolated area, a shortcut back to the ferry station that will take them home.
It starts with a light tap on the back of Darren’s right shoulder. He turns to be met with a short man, probably no more than five feet, five inches in stature. His smile is crooked with his four front teeth missing on top. He wears a silver watch on his left wrist and a large gold chain around his neck. His black shirt and black jeans let him blend into the alleyways without being seen.
“Hey man, where ya from? He says slyly.
“Ahhh…” Daren’s mind goes blank, not really sure if he should answer.
“Dartmouth, I’m from Dartmouth across the bridge.”
“Ah man, you know me—that’s up in my hood.” He says laughing and jumping side to side.
He puts out his hand and leaves it there until Darren grabs it. The short man immediately brings him into a bear hug, slapping Darren on the back.
Slightly unnerved he squeezes Emma’s hand tightly. Her hand starts to go numb—if she wasn’t nervous herself she would probably tell him to let go but she’s too afraid to even speak.
“Man we like brothers, ya know what I’m saying? How about you help a brother out? I need a favor.”
“You need a f-favor?” Darren stammers but still holds his ground.
“Yeah man, I need some money, ya know? Gotta go places. I got a dime for ya right here.” He says while pulling out a small bag of cannabis.
“Sorry man I don’t do that.”
“Well how about you give me your wallet and I won’t sell this shit to you. How’s that sound to you?”
Darren reaches into his pocket fumbling around for his wallet. His middle finger brushes up against two bills, either fives or twenties. He reaches into the change compartment and pulls out exactly 37 cents.
“Sorry man this is actually all I have.” He hands the money over to the alleged drug dealer and notices that there is a second man standing in the shadows.
The man in the back is probably closer to six feet tall, fairly solid build but his baggy clothes makes it hard to tell if his muscular or just overweight.
“You girl, what you got?”
She shakes her head at him; luckily she didn’t bring her purse tonight.
“Bullshit. You going to do it like this? Don’t you know what happens when you mess around?” Agitation becomes apparent and the taller man steps forward.
And then Darren makes the most vital mistake of all. He lets go of Emma’s hand and shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry.”
The moonlight hits something shiny in the tall man’s hand; it’s clear he’s holding a switchblade. Darren swallows hard, nervous of where this situation may lead.
The small man shouts at his partner “Keon!”
Before Darren can even twitch a muscle the taller man grabs Emma by the shoulder, turns her around and shoves the knife in her face; the shorter man points a knife at Darren’s ribcage.
Keon slides the knife downwards until the metallic blade lands on Emma’s throat. Her breathing is now choppy, bouncing the knife up and down slightly. Surprisingly she stays silent, portraying no emotion besides a single tear falling down her left cheek.
Her eyes dance around looking for something that may be able to save her but there’s nothing. In front of her is a concrete wall, the back of the restaurant that they walked by earlier—it’s of no use unless one of the employees happen to come out at this exact moment to take out the trash.
The left and right paths are blocked by the two men and the harbor is behind them. Her eyes meet Darren’s and they both give each other look of terror. She may not show it but she is actually more scared than she has ever been in her life. All her memories and dedication to her career could be wasted tonight. Her whole life could end. Everything she has ever done—accomplished—is hanging on the balance of one man’s sensibility. There is a strong chance that he’ll take her money and let her go but what if something extraordinary happens. What if his hand slips?
Darren, though appearing terrified, is actually more angry than afraid. The insolence of this man is insatiable, just because he has a knife he thinks he’s in charge. If it wasn’t for the girl he would grab his wrist and flip it around.
The girl is the only thing keeping him from doing something rash at this point. Her safety is Darren’s number one priority; his ego is number two.
“Fine, take the god damn money.” He throws his wallet at the short man’s feet.
He quickly bends down and grabs it, without even moving the knife. He skims it, looking discontented by his earnings.
“Shoes too.” He says with a toothless grin.
“Seriously, you’re going to take my shoes?” Darren asks, sounding rightfully agitated.
“Shoes too squirrely man.”
Darren looks at him with complete hatred burning through his eyes. If it wasn’t for the knife—and of course the girl—he would tear this spineless midget in half with his bare hands. Reluctantly he kicks them off and pushes them over.
“Thanks meho.” He winks slyly.
“What else do I want? That necklace and those rings.” He points to Emma.
“The rings mi chica.” Keon says pressing the knife in deeper, almost suffocating her. She doesn’t think about it; instantly she removes the gold necklace she had been wearing and two silver rings from her right hand that Darren gave her for their two month and three month anniversaries.
“Take them.” Her words are gargled.
Keon grabs them from her and shoves them into his pocket. He removes the knife from her throat and shoves her hard into Darren. Another tear runs down her nearly perfect face. The shorter assailant backs away and lowers his own knife as Darren catches Emma.
“Bye bye, thank you so much.” Keon says loudly while raising his middle finger.
Caught in an embrace, Emma tears at Darren’s shirt, desperately trying to hold him closer. She breaks down in his arms sobbing gently into his shoulder. He pushes a loose lock of hair away from her eyes with one hand and rubs her back with the other.
“It’s okay, everything is okay.” He says trying to reassure himself just as much as her.
She grabs his back tighter as she convulses with emotion. He does his best to comfort her but she’s been rattled. Nothing seems to calm her until he kisses her on the forehead. She looks up with makeup running down her face and tears still watering (still looking beautiful) and then bows her head back down again.
“Don’t worry about it; it’s not the end of the world.” He tries to smile at her.
She attempts to smile back but it comes out as a pitiful bubbling of tears.
From above her shoulder Darren watches the two thugs walk away reminiscing and laughing as if nothing happened. His thumbs dig progressively deeper into the side of his index fingers until they start to bleed. His blood boils as his pride and ego try to convince him to go after them.
A pile of rubble lies next to his feet, concrete broken down after decades of rain and abuse. Some of the pieces would be large enough to do serious damage if they hit somebody in the base of the skull.
The rocks dance in and out of his vision. Darren looks at them, then the two men and then at the girl. He could walk away now and forget this entire night or he could revitalize her faith in him and show her that he can still protect her. If he’s going to do anything it has to be now before they get too far away.
Pulling her chin up gently with his hand he kisses her lips so quickly he can barely taste the tropical flavor of her lip balm.
“Run.”
“What?” She says astonished not believing what Darren just said.
“Run!” He yells.
He pushes her back and she stumbles three steps, barely catches herself. Before she even has time to speak Darren already has one of the larger concrete blocks held over his head with two hands about to throw it at Keon (who already turned after hearing Darren yell).
It hits him square above the left eye; he drops to his knees instantly as an apparent gap opens in his forehead. He screams, covering the wound with both hands.
“You’re insane!” Emma yells with a bloodcurdling tone in her voice. Tears fall down her face as the evening becomes a nightmare.
The short man approaches with the knife clearly clenched in his hand. He scowls and kicks the loose pavement away with his boots as he moves closer with every passing moment. Surprisingly he doesn’t run but walks towards Darren. The look in his eyes is menacing.
Staring in awe as his assailant walks closer Darren can’t help but feel like he made a mistake. The distant sound of police sirens gives a false sense of hope as they get louder and then fade off into the distance. He manages to stay composed through the fear though, standing his ground and even taking a step closer himself.
“Daaaarrreenn!” Emma pleas while grabbing his arm.
“Don’t do this, we don’t have to, please don’t Darren…”
The second man gets up, whipping the blood off of his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt and looks on from a distance.
Adrenaline starts to wear off and reality starts to set in—fear is apparent.
“Emma! Get out of here.” Darren yells again blocking the way so neither man can run by. She takes three small steps backwards but still stays. She has run out of tears but still sobs.
“What ya going to do?” Keon provides a voice of reason while watching his partner approaches the couple.
“Oh nothing, just what I shoulda done before.” He lunges forward ready to grab Darren by the neck but he manages to side step out of the way. Panicking the short man reaches out with the knife and thrashes wildly slicing Darren from the left shoulder to the middle of his throat.
Grimacing he watches as blood soaks into his sweater turning brown. Darren puts his hand on his shoulder and almost vomits when he sees the color of his hand. It’s bright red, almost neon. He can feel his pulse through the wound and blood pumping out consistently.
“Stop!” Emma yells crying and tearing at her hair.
The voice is distant and almost unrecognizable to Darren as the world around him becomes progressively farther away. His vision goes first, the ground starts spinning out of control then everything gains a trail image. The audio goes next, he looks at Emma, he can scarcely make out her form screaming and crying but she sounds like she is underwater—everything sounds underwater.
Darren’s perception of time is the last thing to go. Time slows down to a near stop as he can feel himself falling. The ground comes closer as he leaves his feet. The black, cold pavement feels hard against his face, mixing well with the taste of blood in his mouth. His eyes close slowly and finally everything goes blank.
***
When Darren wakes up again he is in the most peculiar room, there is a single bed with pale blue sheets and white pillows. The walls are also all painted white and the only piece of furniture that seems to be out of place is the platinum colored television.
“Oh you’re awake? How do you feel?” Says the sole nurse in the room.
“Ahh yeah… I’m awake…” Darren says dumbly.
He takes a minute to examine the nurse. She’s clearly pretty, mid-twenties with short curly black hair. She has an innocent face which is inviting and her eyes are clear.
“You still sound tired, I’ll let you rest a little more.” She says before she leaves the room.
“Okay…” He responds but she is already gone.
He groans as he shifts himself up in the bed. Blinking heavily he tries to remember what happened to him. A sharp pain radiates through his left arm and he touches his shoulder. There is a white bandage professionally wrapped around it, all the way from his armpit to midway across his neck where it is taped to stay in place.
Struggling to regain his memory he looks around the room, examining every detail. Everything seems in order, much like any other hospital room, until his eyes pause on the nightstand.
Tears start to run down his cheek as he sees what rests on its surface. In a glass bowl, wrapped in tissue, are two silver rings. He picks one of them up and tries to fit it on his finger but it’s much too small.
Violently he throws it across the room and watches as it bounces off the wall and spins in counterclockwise circles on the floor. Grabbing the bed sheet he pulls it over his head and cries himself to sleep.
The nurse returns an hour later with a tray of food consisting of: an apple, a bowl of alphabet soup, a juice box and a Rice Crispies square. She slides the glass dish with the one remaining ring over so she can lay down the tray.
Seeing the ring on the floor she retrieves it and holds it up to the light. She slips it onto her finger—it fits perfectly. She looks from her hand to Darren. His pillow is clearly stained with his tears.
Sighing, she takes the ring off of her finger and puts it into her pocket. She walks over to Darren and straightens the blanket over his shoulders and leaves the room, making sure the door is shut behind her.
All rights belong to the original author, as defined under the Canadian Copyright Law.
3 comments:
what a fabulous story daniel, loved it, u look smart in your graduation suit, congrats mate, and thanks for the visit :)
Great story Daniel, that is one of my favurites that you have written so far. I love the ending.
Haha thank you both (:
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