Chapitre 4 :: Chapter 4

Publiée: 06-09-05 - Mise à jour: 06-09-05

Chapitre: 1 2 3 4 5

Chapter 4  

The rain was still falling, ricocheting off my coat and face with violence.  

Lightning bolts began piercing the sky as the cries coming from the end of the alley. My steps became quicker, the voices clearer. Three figures turned their backs on me, melting from the shadows. One of the bolts illuminated the alley, making the melee more visible.  

Apparently, three beginner thugs were attacking a fourth person. No doubt, they cornered a kid. A knife, a razor, and a chain for weapons… unquestionably a gang of wannabes. Seeing all that, I felt the obligation to teach them how the law went about in this city and that certainly was not the best way to make a living. Besides, the cries were beginning to shatter my eardrums…  

Why do they not shut their victim up?! So lousy bandits. I could teach them how to attack a person…  

I was close enough to see them. The idiots have not even noticed my presence, even though I was doing nothing to hide from them.  

Their little act was starting to grate on my nerves. It was tempting to teach them some manners…  

I quietly leaned against a building’s wall, also to protect myself from the rain. Fishing out my packet of cigarettes I carefully chose on, perching it on my lips. Only then, I lit a match, alerting them of my presence.  

The three cretins turned abruptly.  

Fixing my eyes on the flame, approaching the cigarette, I could imagine their surprised glances. It was then, that one of them took it upon himself to address me.  

- Hey, you over there! What are you doing in that corner? Skid, before I get angry!  

I still have not lit my cigarette. I leveled my stare at them. The flame illuminated my expressionless face. I raised my hat, threw my match in a near puddle and finally moved toward them, hands in pockets, a picture of utter calm.  

I stopped only inches from them. The one, who spoke earlier, has not even begun moving toward me. I stared at them, my eyes moving from one to the next. My voice was icy and hoarse.  

- Am I disturbing?  

I added in an ironic tone:  

- If that is the case, please forgive me. Please, continue with you show. Do not mind me.  

I saw in their eyes, that the change in my attitude confused them. They were apparently I a dilemma, whether to fear me or weather I was just making fun of them.  

- Just listen to the guy! He wants to enjoy the show. You know what; I am going to offer you so much more than that. You will be part of the show. Come on, show me the money.  

I take on an offended expression and continue with – was it were – teasing. So I pretend to search my pockets and scratch my head with an apologetic air.  

- Ah, I do not know how to say this, but I do not have anything on me… I have only banknotes.  

They watch me confused and saw by my half-slime, I was poking fun of them.  

- You are making fun of us! I am warning you, you might di…  

- I might… what?  

I grabbed his jaw, lifting him off the pavement with one arm. With the other I took his knife, poising it at his throat.  

- Tell them not to move, or I will cut your throat.  

They were so scared, they released their weapons immediately. Eyes wide, they were completely terrified.  

- Listen to me, kid. My advice is you shut up. Those who threaten me, find themselves quickly in a hospital. As to the others, you might soon join them in hell. The choice is yours.  

I punched him, sending him flying a few meters into the Dumpsters. I disposed of the blade, turning to the other two that remained stock-still, not moving an inch.  

- So, puppets! Are we going on with the show or not? Not that I am bored, but your buddy sucked as the bad guy… Please, tell me you are better!  

They seemed to hesitate a few seconds, and then came at me with their fists ready. I dodged their attack with utmost ease. In the meantime, the leader – apparently – regained some of his masculinity, deciding to join the combat. I did not want to use my gun for this.  

I quickly put an end to the scuffle with a few well-aimed punches. All the three ended sprawled on the pavement, not able to move. I did not care they were kids, I was not going to go easy on them. This was an example of what the called school of life.  

I made sure they would think twice before attacking somebody again. A last warning, hoping it might do them good.  

- Listen to me well! If I happen to meet you again in these same circumstances, you can be sure I will bid you farewell from this world.  

I did not wait for an answer, seeing the state they were in. Anyway, it was better this way than the other. They might spit their blood, trying to get up. Today’s kids were just so fragile. The smallest effort tired them. That is why I did not spare my blows.  

I have been much younger than them when I have found myself in the middle of the war and taken the blows in stride. Not blows. It was much worse than that. And all the others tortures I have undergone. The scars covering my body, reminded me of them each and every day.  

Choked sobs awoke me from my thoughts. Searching for their origin, I found a fragile, shaking body.  

Their victim was on the ground, wet, and curled into a tight ball. Only the body was illuminated by an old streetlamp.  

I could not see the face, but by the curves, clearly outlined through the soaked clothing, I could guess it was a woman, and my anger towards her attackers increased. I almost regretted holding back…  

To take on someone weaker than them. That was why I made sure to protect women and children. More poetically, one could say the widows and orphans, but life was not poetic. Life does not rhyme with serenity, calm, peace, wonder, or any other soft, dreamy term. Life is strewn with obstacles – as some would say – where tests follow rapidly, one after another. Nothing is easy. These tests are always overcome after long and difficult struggles. But at what price? The price of never being able to look at oneself in the mirror? The price of giving up one’s family, one’s friends… one’s “life”?  

I slowly walked to the woman, tending her a hand to help her gain her feet. But she did not accept my help. I noticed her hand have not left her face and the sobs have not ceased.  

Understanding she might still be in shock from the attack, I kneeled on one knee, placing a hand at her shoulder. My touch made her flinch. A reaction do unexpected it made me flinch, too.  

I found large, brilliant brown eyes. A little too brilliant, since they were filled with tears, watching me with fear.  

My eyes remained locked with hers. I was enchanted by those eyes, by that perfectly oval face, by the wet hair plastered on her forehead, but most of all by the innocence she exuded.  

The situation certainly did not call for it, but I found this woman enchanting, because she was so different from the women I have met before.  

I tried to reassure with a soft, steady voice.  

- Miss… does not be afraid. Do you want me to help you up?  

I tended my hand again.  

She still fixed me with her eyes, terrified. Like she was rooted to the spot. After a few seconds of hesitation, she slowly extended her arm toward me. I helped her to her feet with ease.  

It was only when she was up, that I noticed her elegance. She wore a pantsuit of latest fashion from Paris; I thought it was from a certain Coco Chanel. Bi-colored pantsuit with matching pups. Without any doubt she belonged to the upper class, which explained why the idiots now laying on the ground picked her.  

Her clothes were intact. I did not notice any bruises. Apparently they just wanted to scare her with their toys they called weapons and judging by her state of fright, that method worked to perfection. It would seem they have just wanted her money.  

Her legs obviously protested and yet she wanted to get rid of my presence. Her eyes still reflected her terror. I stepped slowly back as not to frighten her further.  

She walked away, zigzagging from left to right, using the walls to support her. Holding her head she was obviously on the verge of fainting.  

So I decided to discreetly follow her, picking up her small purse, she has forgotten on the pavement.  

After about fifty meters, I saw her leaning heavily against the wall, still holding her head. But she seemed to hesitate.  

I ran toward her, catching her before she lost consciousness and preventing her from smacking her head against the sidewalk. 

Chapitre: 1 2 3 4 5