Redemption (12 page)

“What a mess!” Namara shouted, enraged, surveying the half-destroyed bathroom with three dead men sprawled on the floor.

He unlocked the door and left at the same pace he’d entered. The place had the calm of death. He waited at the station for the subway train and realized that tonight, he had killed for the first time. He boarded the train to leave Coney Island that was empty of him also. The train left the island and Namara watched the immense buildings scroll by as he went by. During the time, the ocean wind continued to blow in the deserted alleys, swirling the litter left around by the vacationers present very early in the day.

CHAPTER 14

“Toe the line, gentlemen!” ordered the little referee.

The gong resounded and Danny was now in his second Triad fight. He had sworn to never return, but when he realized that he once more had no money for rent, he checked the piece of paper that they’d given him and that he had left on the corner of his kitchen table. He didn’t think about it, but registered for another combat. This time, his opponent was a karateka who seemed well trained. Twice as big as Namara, the latter feared having difficulty controlling those long legs. He could see that he was in great shape and that he moved well. The karateka advanced on guard leaping toward him to demolish him while the crowd screamed in delirium incomprehensible chants. As it was his second time, the crowd recognized him and they screamed his name several times in support. The karateka launched a right kick that Namara blocked easily with his hand. His adversary, with a great agility in his legs, had used the kick as a trap. With Namara’s block, he took the opportunity to send him a kick directly in his side. Namara didn’t fall, but the impact was so powerful that he had four cracked ribs on that side. He tried to change his position by pivoting left of his opponent to avoid more blows.

The karateka took the chance to send a punch right to the face, splitting his lip and bloodying his nose. At the impact, a jet of blood splashed the arena. The hit shook him up and he fell. He stayed there for a bit to gather his thoughts. He knew that the hits that he’d gotten were his fault. He had lost attention at the beginning of the fight and that loss won him these injuries. He tried to refocus, but his mind was confused because of the hits, the pain that he felt and the screams of the crowd that accentuated his confusion. Seeing that Namara was shaken, the karateka mounted another charge. This time, he sent him a punch directly to the face where he was hurt to finish him, but Namara seized the wrist in the flight of a second. With a quick movement, he pulled the arm of the karateka making him lose balance and, with the elbow of his opposite arm, shot a blow in his face. With the same elbow he propped on the forearm and it gave with a sharp break.

The karateka yelled in pain trying to get out of the danger zone. Namara kneed him in the stomach and the karateka collapsed on the ground, paralyzed with pain. Namara took a great breath to regain his senses and the little ref thrust his hand in the air.

“Namara, the winner!”

The crowd wouldn’t stop shouting their satisfaction. They wanted more. Danny tried to wipe the blood that ran from his mouth and nose. They brought him a towel and money which he took. He left when he had his money. He was furious with himself. His inattention tonight could have cost him dear. He had gotten out, but he was hurt. He knew that he could have ended up in the morgue for his mistake. His ribs gave him atrocious suffering with every breath he took like his heart was going to split in two each time. Back at his place, he disinfected his wounds. He had lost plenty of blood, but his wounds had stopped bleeding. His bathroom sink was full of bloody red cloths with which he had cleaned his face. All the blood reminded him of Chandra and suddenly he felt like he was going to throw up. His head was turned. He left the bathroom holding his hide to seek out a bottle of bourbon that he had in his armoire. He turned on his little radio, sat on the ground against the wall and drank. With every mouthful, his wounds burned.

He put away a few swigs and began to cry in silence in the dark of his apartment. He thought of Chandra. He didn’t have any fight left in him, he was tired. He asked why he had fought all these years to get here. He went to grab a knife and sat back on the floor. He placed the point of the blade against his wrist. He looked only for a reason to not do it. He couldn’t find one. The tears flowed and he continued to drink until the bottle was nearly empty. He pricked his wrist with the tip of the blade when he remembered Tim who must come to see him tomorrow to continue his training. If ever he did this, Tim would end up finding out what happened and that would indicate that he had failed in his task and that, overall, he had abandoned him. He wouldn’t be wrong. He pulled the tip out of his wrist and with a cry he stabbed the knife into the wall. He heard the blade’s vibration when the knife pricked into the wall.

He continued to empty his bottle in the night, letting the tears mix with the alcohol and spill over him every time he took a sip. He looked out the window and saw three pairs of piercing yellow eyes watching him. He crawled over to it and saw that three black cats were sitting on the windowsill, staring at him.

“Hey, buddies… what are you doing here?” muttered Namara, completely drunk.

Suddenly, the cats reminded him of an old Egyptian legend that said the gods took the form of cats to guard and watch over the living.

“I must really be sloshed to think about that stupid legend… eh?” he sniggered with sarcasm at the cats.

He fell asleep there on the floor after a few seconds, alone and completely drunk. The three cats continued to look at him, still on his windowsill as though they were watching over him tonight like a certain Egyptian legend. Those that believed the legend would have certainly told Namara that the three nocturnal visitors were trying to tell him that he wasn’t alone as he believed and that his hour hadn’t yet come.

*     *     *

Tim ran with all his might, his attackers at his heels. He turned the corner of the street when he saw Danny waiting on the sidewalk near Ditmars and 42nd street. Tim out of breath, stopped to look at Danny. The troop and their leader stopped running upon seeing the grown-up with Tim. The leader stayed behind Tim telling himself that he would not do it for this time now that there was this man there who seemed to know him.

“Hi Tim,” said Danny.

“Hey,” Tim responded breathlessly.

“You have to make a choice, you know… confront your fears or flee… it’s your decision.”

Tim thought of his training and he recovered. His hands shook with nervousness. He turned to face his opponent, raising his guard. The leader of the gang smiled, saying that he would teach him a lesson in front of the group. He raised his guard as well and advanced toward him to hit him. He sent a hit directly that Tim blocked. As Danny had taught him, he immediately linked a direct punch that hit his opponent right on the face. He fell on his back, confused by the impact and Tim launched at him to continue sending a hail of fists. Tim’s young torturer tried to block the hits, but he was incapable. Danny advanced to separate the two kids.

“You know that if I hadn’t stopped Tim, you would have been worse messed up than your little friend!” said Namara harshly.

Namara helped the kid on the ground to stand before facing Tim while the others watched the scene.

“You must be ashamed that you took advantage of others that way. I hope that this teaches you a lesson!”

The kid said nothing. He was by all evidence legitimately humiliated because of the situation that had unrolled in front of spectators. Tim and the other kid shook hands in truce and the group left. Tim stayed in place, still dazed at what had happened. He felt that he didn’t believe he had demolished that which scared him and at that, with a great ease to his great surprise. Tim smiled and he seemed to have an illuminated face as though a great weight had lifted off him. Danny understood that which he lived through in staying with him on the same corner of the street. He smiled.

“You chose to face him and you won,” said Namara.

“Yeah, but it’s because of you, because otherwise I wouldn’t have acted like that…”

“You made your decision by yourself and if that was the decision you would have made, I wouldn’t have argued. I waited for you at the corner of the street. I thought they would follow you today.”

“Yeah, but it was because of you…”

“You owe me nothing, kiddo. It’s you alone that accomplished it. I’m really happy if you learned something, but I’m telling you that you gave me something, more than you think. So thanks!” said Namara, giving him the Wing Chun salute that Tim returned proudly with a smile.

He went back to his house and Namara watched him leave, saying that today, time had learned to him a great lesson: to confront one’s own demons. He had seen the confidence that he’d won for himself at the moment when the other kid fell on the ground, won. He knew that the confidence never left now and was happy to have participated in it. He had fulfilled his promise. He walked toward his own house when his cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Danny? It’s Igor.”

“Hi, Igor, how are you.”

“Very well, thank you. Listen, Danny, I’m going to need your services again.”

“Ok, no problem. Do you want to send me texts over email?”

“No, listen… it’s for another kind of work, but I want to talk to you in person.”

“Ok, when do you want to meet up?”

“Well, meet me tomorrow evening at twenty-hundred at my office. I’m going to take you somewhere after, it’s a surprise. Dress up, you won’t regret it.”

“I don’t much like surprises.”

Igor sniggered at the other end of the line.

“I’m telling you, you’ll like it. Dress your best and I’ll see you tomorrow night, ok?”

“Ok, tomorrow night.”

“Ciao amigo.”

*     *     *

The driver stopped on Broadway Avenue where a hoard of people were queuing up outside. Several camera flashes appeared reflecting of the vapour from the manholes in the street. The ambiance was feverish and animated. Danny watched the scene and asked himself what was going on. He had discussed with Igor on the way over without knowing where they were going. He was wearing his best, light grey suit with a white shirt underneath. Igor, next to him, opted for a more extravagant choice: a completely black suit with a fuchsia shirt and tie. Igor was in an exceptionally good mood this evening with a smile playing about his lips. Danny was perplexed.
This must be an opening night or some other type of worldly event judging by all these journalists.

“Are we stopping here?”

“Absolutely!” Igor cried enthusiastically.

“What’s the crowd for anyway?”

“That crowd is the most well-attended annual fashion event in all New York. Every year, the greatest designers, the stars, the press and all the most influential New Yorkers rush to attend this event. It’s the most glamorous of the year and we’re attending in the premiere,” shouted Igor, glancing at Namara before getting out of the limo to throw himself into the mob.

Danny followed after Igor. The two cut a path through the crowd, passing the line-ups and creeping into the line of invited VIPs. The bouncer asked for their names and then, they were inside. Danny recognized several familiar faces known from the world of cinema even though he wasn’t very familiar with that universe. He had several seats around a huge elevated catwalk that indicated an immense fashion show would take place soon. The place was packed and everyone was dressed very chic, all more styled than the other. At the four corners of the room, the journalists took interviews with influential people with all evidence, but who Danny didn’t recognize. A server passed with a tray full of champagne glasses. Namara eagerly seized one of them and took a mouthful after a sigh while taking everything around him.

“Impressive,” said Namara, sipping his champagne.

“I agree and more, we will be directly in the front row of the stage for the show,” said Igor, pointing to the bridge.

“I’m flattered, but to what do I owe the honour if I may be direct?”

“A direct question deserves a direct answer. I need you, Danny, and I have an offer for you,” said Igor with a smile.

“Ok. What kind of offer are we talking about?”

“Later. Right now, we’re here to have fun and take advantage of the evening and that’s we’re going to do,” he said, slapping Namara’s back.

Igor introduced him to several celebrities present who he seemed to know very well. Danny felt a bit lost in this world, but the experience didn’t displease him. All the glamour and the women dressed or the evening, each more beautiful than the other, was in effect a surprise that Igor had promised him. Several women looked at Danny in seeing that his face was unknown. They smiled at him, moving close to him, smiles that Namara returned. He’d expected anything but this. After a few minutes, the crowd was invited to take their assigned places. Igor and Danny were the first in front of the catwalk. The lights lowered and suddenly the catwalk lit up. The light show filled the space, moving from blue to pink. The show began. The annual event was in full swing. Several supermodels wearing outfits from the greatest designers began to scroll by to the sound of techno-pop music while graphic illusions were projected onto the walls. Igor took another sip from his glassed and smiled, delighted with his surprise. Apparently, he’d succeeded in surprising him.

The rest of the night unfolded on the second floor where there was a private reception. There was food and drinks a-plenty. The place was lined with sheer curtains fluttering in the wind. They descended the length of the walls with hundreds of candles flickering everywhere. Servers circulated through the crowd like ants. Danny was at the bar when a pretty blonde in a red dress sat next to him and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Julia!” she said, taking his hand.

“Danny… nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand with a smile.

“Having fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s my first time at this type of thing. It’s great, but strange.”