Easter City

CHAPTER 3

 

  Wine gurgled from Plaster of Paris and chuckled in the basin. A crowd of black suits and red ties and red dresses and red heels stood around the fountain, dipping in their glasses and quaffing.

    The room was dark and sort of distorted and lagged every time I moved my head. I’d been drunk but most wealthy people on Main Street were and I imagined this was how they saw things. I stood amongst them, drunkenly I guess, and “Luck be a Lady” echoed.

    I dragged my head around to see Joq standing beside me looking around, only he wasn’t beggar-kid Joq anymore. He was dressed up in an usher’s tuxedo. I looked down at my shiny shoes and realized I was wearing the same getup.

    I blinked and suddenly we were in a place like an auditorium and the wealthy people were there too, sitting in rows while me and Joq were sitting in chairs propped up at the back corner.

    On stage, voluminous brocade curtains reeled back, revealing a woman with black hair and a toothless man in a velvet assistant’s getup at her side. She was wearing a red dress too, but not like the escorts. It was swirling and rich in color like spun blood.

    They bowed and the assistant rolled out a big box on wheels. He opened it and she got in. He gave the box a spin and pulled down the flaps and she was gone. The crowd clapped and wolf whistled.  

    I never got to see the act because the scene faded. When it resolved, we were still in the auditorium, only there were wealthy people circling us and they really did look like devils. They scoured us with ravenous red eyes.

    Then the woman with the black hair—the magician—shoved her way to the front of the crowd. She stood in front of us grinning through her bleach-white teeth. She and hefted a sword and let it hang in the air so the crowd had a moment to eat up our fear before she made fleshy ribbons of us.

    I was calm for some reason. I mean, I didn’t know what the hell was going on or where I was. How could I be scared?

    I looked over at Joq who was pasty white and drenched.

    “J-u.” my tongue was heavy. “J-o” my jaw was splinted. “Joq…” My lips barely twitched, but the words came out.

    Joq turned to me, ten afterimages of his head slugging after the real one. He looked into my eyes, then over my shoulder. Something he saw made him frown and gasp in horror.

    I spun and, at the same time, there was a loud bang. Again. Bang! The crowd scattered and people trampled each other to get to the entrance.

    Joq pointed and I looked down to see blood welling around the toes of my shoes and the magician’s body at my feet. And I looked up and saw a familiar looking man leaning on a cane and a young boy with blonde hair and cruel eyes at his side. The man’s flintlock trembled and the barrel vomited smoke.

    The scene changed again and I was running with the kid with cruel eyes past a wine geyser in the lobby. The man with the gun clacked behind us. Somehow, me and the kid and the man made it outside unnoticed.   

    It was snowing in the night. A sign flashed overhead: La Rouge. A limousine pulled up to the sidewalk, jerking to a stop before a fleeing couple. A man with a suit and shades got out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for the man with the cane who, in turn, held out a hand.

    I hesitated. The other kid shoved past me and got in and the man’s eyes besought me to follow. So I got in.

    The man smiled. “Found you!”