Old City Apologies

Vinnie hid from the raw cold weather outside inside of the brand new Old City Diner. He sipped steaming hot black coffee carefully from a large white ceramic mug with the diner’s retro 50s logo stamped onto its surface. A neon analog clock hanging behind the lunch counter showed 2am. The diner was nearly deserted at this godawful hour. Only Vinnie, a box dyed redhead with more wrinkles than natural hair color named Madge, and Nestor the overnight line cook. Between orders Nestor read from a greasy and torn paperback copy of Capote’s In Cold Blood. He was getting a lot of reading done tonight.

Vinnie squirmed about in the booth along the front window where Madge had sat him. Trying to wriggle out of his long wool coat, scarf, and gloves without having to stand up to do it. Now that the coffee and the humid diner air were starting to finally warm him up. The fake red leather seats crackled and squealed in response to his efforts. If anyone else had been eating at that moment Vinnie would have been mortified; but, since he was alone, he finished the task and tossed his winter wear onto the seat across from him. Breathing a little bit heavier as a result. Feeling a little bit warmer from the exertion.

A large heavy plate loaded down with biscuits and country gravy was set before him along with another platter piled high with scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon. Madge gathered up Vinnie’s wet coat, gloves, and scarf and hung them neatly behind him from a hook at the edge of an adjoining booth.

“I didn’t order any pancakes, eggs, or bacon, Madge.” Vinnie told her through a weary 2am smile.

“I know that sweetie. I told Nestor to add them in. You’re looking way too skinny and pale lately.” Madge pressed her soft warm palm to Vinnie’s bearded cheek.

“I’m fine hon. You worry about me way too much.” Vinnie pressed his own cold hand to Madge’s. He gave her a wink. A sweet little charming wink.

As soon as she removed her hand from his face, Vinnie dug into his colossal meal. Madge wedged her chunky self into the seat opposite him and watched Vinnie eat with the rapt attention of a mother hen.

“Someone’s gotta look out for you Vin. You’ve been alone now for way too long. And if you let yourself get any skinnier there won’t be a single eligible fella out there who’d find you even remotely attractive. You feeling okay?”

Vinnie paused his chewing long enough to answer her. “Physically I’m fine. I’m just sick to death of this cold wet weather all day, every day.” He cast his gaze out the large plate glass window fronting the diner. Past the pink and blue Old City Diner lights to the gray snow that lined the sidewalks and collected along the curbs. A replenishing sheet of freezing cold sleet had been drenching them for over an hour and was showing no signs of letting up anytime in the immediate future.

“It makes me sad. Reminds me of how lonely I am.” Vinnie continued. “I am absolutely desperate for a beach, a big floppy straw hat, a banana drink served in a pineapple, and a deep dark tan.”

“You need to get out of your loft more often Vin. Meet new people. Go to new places. This shit hole cannot be your entire social life. Me and Nestor should not be your only friends.” Madge leaned forward as best as she could in the tight booth. Her large breasts mashed against the edge of the table. The seams of her brown-checked polyester uniform stretched to its limits groaned out their pain.

“Stop obsessing over Marty already. It’s been nearly a whole year.” Madge tried to hold Vinnie’s gaze but he kept sliding his eyes away from hers. “Get away from him and everything that reminds you of him. Once and for all.” Madge poked a blunt middle finger into the table top to help accentuate each word in her message.

“I can’t just up and leave. He still writes to me at this address.” Vinnie shrugged his narrow shoulders until they nearly scraped his ears.

“Burn those letters. Pack up your stuff. Move away to a place where he can never find you. Somewhere warm and dry all of the time.” She locked her gaze onto Vinnie’s blue-green eyes and this time forced him to look back at her.

“Wouldn’t you miss me though?” He asked her teasingly through a boyish grin slathered in bacon grease. He batted his eyelashes at her. He had beautifully thick eyelashes under meticulously sculpted brows.

“I would rather you were six states away where I could visit you for a good time than six feet under where our visits would be one-sided and sad. He ain’t gonna stay away forever you know.” Madge heaved herself up from her seat after that. She tipped the table slightly in the effort and banged her hip twice before coming free. Her eyes were hot and watery and she dabbed at them with a napkin from the orange apron she had tied around her waist. She pulled a gnawed pencil stub from behind her ear and made her way to the front entrance of the Old City Diner. Hoping no one else would come in tonight.

Vinnie pushed aside the now clean plate where a pile of pancakes, eggs, and bacon had once resided. He set to the biscuits and gravy next. Not so much enjoying their flavor as the warm full feeling they were creating deep within him. Helping to conquer the cold heavy stone of despair weighing him down and firmly anchoring his depression in place.

Between mouthfuls Vinnie reached behind him and pulled a damp wrinkled envelope out of his coat pocket. With an actual hand written letter tucked inside of it. He pulled free the four pages of cheap lined yellow paper obviously torn from a legal pad and unfolded them with great care. Gently smoothing them flat on the table after making sure that surface was both clean and dry.

He read:

February 15th

My dearest Vincent,

This must be the sixth or eighth letter I’ve written you since being locked up here. You haven’t bothered to respond to a single one of them. You must be really really mad at me. Yet I’m really really not sure why you would be mad at me.

It was you who provoked me into punishing you. And then it was your continuous crying and screaming which set my head to spinning. Causing me to get angrier and angrier. And you know that I can’t be responsible for my actions when I get that mad. You knew what the docs had said about my temper and my mood swings and yet you still antagonized me. Stoked my rage.

No matter. Never mind.

Because I forgave you almost immediately and I still love you passionately. Unconditionally. Remember how well we loved each other? How good we were for each other?

Let me also remind you that it was you who called the police on me. Filed assault charges against me. Testified in court on your own behalf so that I would be found guilty and sentenced to three years in prison.

No matter. Never mind.

I forgave you for that as soon as I saw how sad your eyes looked in court. When you looked into my soul with your beautiful gaze right after they had sentenced me. Thoughts of you, of us, were all that kept me from going crazy, completely nuclear psycho, during this last year. My love for you grounded me, anchored me to peaceful, non-violent behavior. The memory of how great and perfect we had been together linked to the anticipation of how great and perfect we would be when together once again.

You still think of me, don’t you?

Miss me?

Still love me like I still love you?

Completely? Passionately? Forever and Ever?

Despite your past betrayals and lack of communication?

I do hope so.

It would be so very very aggravating if you weren’t.

No matter. Never mind.

If you are still mad at me, my beautiful Vincent, get over it. I’ve apologized endlessly for losing my cool with you and I hope you’ll never force me to go there again. I love you. I cherish you. I would never purposely hurt you. Forgive me, please. Because I have completely forgiven you and I had so much more to be upset about. Don’t you agree? Of course you agree.

The great news is that you won’t even need to worry about responding to this letter. Because I’m getting released very soon my love! I’m coming home to you! They are letting me out early for good behavior and to make room for more serious offenders. Perpetrators of greater and more violent crimes than my simple assault and abuse. See, even the prison system doesn’t consider my actions to be worthy of punishment.

Your Marty is coming home to you baby! Real soon. You must be lonely as hell without me there. You better be lonely as hell. But you won’t be for very much longer. Meet me in one month’s time from the date at the top of this letter. That should give me plenty of time to be released and travel south to you. Do not come here to pick me up. I want to walk to you. To think about you. About us.

Next month meet me inside the diner right next to our old apartment. I think it was renamed “Old City” after Madge and Nestor bought it from Saya and Rakim. I will be there between 2:15 and 2:45am on March 15th. Hopefully you still remember how much I love those early morning hours. Almost as much as I love you! I can still picture your radiant smile when I close my eyes.

Please meet me. Let’s pick up where we were forced to leave off. Together again. You and me forever again. But this time I will never let you get away from me. Wait until you see how strong I’ve gotten while in lock up.

I can’t wait to get my hands on you again. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. Never letting go this time. No matter what!!!

See you soon

All my love,

Your Marty

xoxoxo

Vinnie was weeping silently by the letter’s end. This was at least the 20th time he had read it through and he had cried over it each and every time. Fat heavy hot tears filled with emotion and anticipation. That’s mostly why the letter and its envelope were so damp. Not from the bleak wet weather outside but from Vinnie’s plentiful tears and sweaty hands.

The analog clock behind the lunch counter read 2:35am. The Old City Diner’s shiny steel doors were flung open to let in a massive gust of blustery air sodden with gray sleet. And Marty.

He paused while the doors eased shut behind him. He wore black combat boots, black skinny jeans, and a burgundy leather motorcycle jacket the color of dried blood. Under it was a tight v-neck t-shirt. He was speckled from head to toe with tiny ice crystals slowly melting away. He twinkled briefly under the diner’s fluorescent lights and Vinnie thought, just for a moment, that Marty looked like the most beautiful star in the sky.

Marty’s dark eyes made darker with eyeliner and mascara located Vinnie and he smiled a smile that could have stopped traffic. It definitely caused Vinnie’s heart to skip a few beats just then. He pulled the damp watchcap from his bald head and tucked it into a jacket pocket. He ran a grimy, callused hand through his long pointed beard and flicked away the cold moisture collected from it.

His ears were enormously gauged. They were also pierced many times. His nose and lips were only pierced once each. Vinnie didn’t recall Marty having been so pierced. Or tatted. Marty’s hands and neck were covered in new crude ink. Vinnie found it all kind of sexy though. If he was being perfectly honest with himself.

From behind the lunch counter came a collective groan issued by Nestor and Madge. They had turned in unison when the door originally opened to see who their newest customer was at this dreadful hour. Neither could disguise their disdain upon recognizing Marty standing there.

Nestor tossed aside his Capote novel and leaned his fists against the countertop. Dead brown eyes tracked Marty’s progress.

Madge stared at Vinnie with a sad drawn out look. She tried to control the derision in her voice when she said, “Oh sweetie, no. Don’t do this.”

“Hola Nestor. Mi amigo. Como estas?” Marty over-pronounced each word. His arms spread wide to his sides. He turned toward Vinnie and strutted in his direction as if he were the prize cock of the barnyard. Chest puffed out, shoulders wide, arms held away from his body like he was carrying two heavy buckets. “Madge,” was all he said to the scowling redhead as he passed by her. Barely more than a whisper through stiff lips. Eyes trained only on his prize. He slid with lithe strength into the seat across from Vinnie and grasped his lover’s hands firmly within his own.

“Daddy’s home baby,” he said and let a huge smile crack open his bearded face.

“Hey there, Marty,” was all Vinnie could muster in the moment. His voice soft and tremulous. His breathing fast.

“That’s the best you’ve got for me?” Marty snorted. He lifted each of Vinnie’s hands to his lips and kissed their knuckles. “I’ve been gone nearly a year and all you can say to me is ‘hey’?” His eyes flashed and he showed his small yellow teeth. “Show your Marty some love. I think I’ve earned it.”

Vinnie bit at his lower lip then managed a timid smile, “You look really good.”

“Don’t I though. You had me thrown into prison, so I capitalized on a shitty situation.” He turned his head to face Madge. “Hey. How about some food over here, toots. I haven’t been gone so long that you’ve forgotten my usual order? Have you now?”

Madge didn’t move from her spot next to Nestor. She replied, “Sir. We’re closed. Go find somewhere else to eat.” She sucked loudly at her teeth and held Marty’s icy glare. Never one to shy away from a staredown. Especially with Nestor beside her.

“Cunt.” Marty spat and turned back to face Vinnie.

Nestor charged forward but Madge quickly blocked his way. She put her hands on his broad shoulders and spoke to him in a soft soothing tone. Placating his mood with whispered rationalism. Nestor relented momentarily.

“Wow. You’re looking kinda pale there, sweetness.” Marty told Vinnie. “Vampire is not a good look for you. Not a good look for you at all.”

“I’m sorry Marty.”

“Way too skinny also. You know I don’t approve of that flesh and bones look on you. I need some meat and muscle to grab on to when we are together.” Marty winked. It was dirty, slimy, and filled with bad intentions and euphemisms.

“I’m sorry Marty.”

“Stop apologizing to him,” Madge said. She was crying openly now. Fueled by the rage at her helplessness and the pity she felt toward a lost young man whom she knew deserved better.

Marty continued on. Unchecked by Madge’s interruption or her grief. “We’re gonna need to get you back up to standards, sir. My standards.”

“Back up to your standards.” Vinnie spoke mechanically but the passion which he was looking upon Marty with was undeniable.

“Absolutely. Immediately. You wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy, now would you? Or worse yet—disgust me.”

“No Marty. I’m sorry.”

“Good boy. Let’s blow this shit hole and go spend some quality time together.”

Vinnie nodded slowly at this and obediently eased out of the booth. He took his coat from the hook where Madge had hung it.

“Don’t do this, Vinnie.” Madge pleaded with him from across the diner. “Be better than this. You’re better than this.” She continued to weep for her lost friend. “You deserve better than this. Than him.”

Vinnie drew the coat on slowly. Refusing to make eye contact with Madge. He knew it would be a battle he could not win. He wound his scarf around his thin neck. Marty was right, he thought. He had lost weight over the last few months. Possibly too much weight. The cold hurt him more now than it ever had in the past. None of his pants fit right anymore.

“Stay here with us, hon.” Madge continued to try and lure him to her. Away from evil and out of danger. “Don’t go with him. Stay here and the apartment is yours rent free for as long as you need it.” She looked desperately at Nestor for his support. He nodded in agreement.

Marty watched Vinnie ignore these efforts to keep them apart and reach for the gloves hanging out of his coat pockets. Marty’s grin was confident and smug. He began to slither his way free of the booth. To claim his prize and go.

But when Vinnie’s hands came out of his pockets the gloves simply tumbled to the floor. His one hand was empty and trembling. In the other hand was a heavy, old, large bore revolver. Blued steel and worn walnut grips. Vinnie aimed it point blank at Marty’s face. And pulled the trigger.

“I’m sorry Marty.” BOOM!

The large caliber bullet punched a hole in Marty’s face just above the bridge of his nose. It blew out the back of his head. The diner’s front window shattered. The booth’s bench was sprayed with dark blood, bits of spongy brain matter, and chunks of splintered skull.

“I’m sorry Marty.” BOOM!

Another pull of the trigger left another large ragged hole in Marty. This time in the center of his chest. Its force knocked what was left of Marty flat on to the seat cushion. Spread out like an insect waiting to be pinned and displayed. The fake red leather smeared and dripping with real human gore.

“I’m sorry Marty.” Click.

The acrid smell of exploded gunpowder mixed with the coppery odor of freshly spilled blood stood its ground against the bitter winter wind blowing into the Old City Diner through its missing front window.

Madge’s hands flew to her chest and she screamed.

Nestor stood as still as a statue and watched pieces of Marty plop onto the black and white checkered linoleum floor. He smiled just enough for his gold tooth to catch the light and sparkle.

“I’m sorry Marty.” Click. By now Vinnie was shrilly screaming it over and over. The hammer of the gun cycling through empty chambers and spent shells as Vinnie continued to pull the trigger. Only three bullets had ever been loaded into it.

Gravity took hold of Marty’s limp form and dragged it down from the bench to the floor with a wet sucking squeal. Madge took hold of Vinnie’s shoulders and forced him to face her. She took the gun from his hand and slid it into the pocket of her apron. She pulled him close and hugged him tightly. Viciously. Stroking his wet hair and rubbing his back. Vinnie shook violently against her. A bundle of brittle sticks about to explode.

Madge whispered into his ear quickly and then let him go. She pushed Vinnie toward Nestor. Nestor, knowing what to do, took hold of Vinnie’s arm and led him out through the back exit. In the time it took that door to slowly swing shut and latch a car roared to life and drove away into the darkness. Its tires desperately searching for traction along the pavement’s icy surface.

Madge squatted down at the edge of the crime scene and tried to see Marty’s face where it had come to rest on the floor beneath the table. Or at least what remained of his face. “I ain’t sorry Marty. Ain’t sorry for a single fucking second you heartless bag of whorehouse douche water. I hope you rot in Hell where you belong.”

She straightened up, called 911 to report the shooting of a diner patron by an unknown stranger firing from the opposite side of the street. Then set about hiding Vinnie’s gun and gloves deep inside twenty-five pounds of thawing hamburger meat. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought to herself that tomorrow’s “special chili” would have a little bit of extra iron in it.

Sometimes life could be grand and fair. The evil got what they deserved and the good survived to succeed for just a little bit longer. Small victories. If that’s all you ever aimed for disappointments and setbacks were few and far between. String enough of them together and you could write a decent self-help book.

Madge sat down and took a load off her aching dogs while she waited for the approaching sirens to finally arrive. Prepared to stall the boys in blue for as long as Nestor needed to get Vinnie as far away as possible. To someplace always warm and dry. Where no apologies would hopefully ever be necessary again.

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