When the sky falls

In I walk,  dressed in a tailor made dark blue suit. I hang my coat and my hat at the counter. I know it's hard to find a free table at this hour with out a reservation. But to my relief, I find one by the far end of the room, near the window.

I didn't like sitting by the window, especially when it is curtained. 
But it is a secluded, peaceful spot.
Suited my mood, and it didn't seem like I had much of a choice anyway.
So I take that seat.

"Good evening, monsieur.  How may I be of help? " asks the well groomed waiter.
He seems vaguely familiar.
Coincidence, may be.
I brush the thought aside and I ask for the menu.  He hands me one.
I just smile back,  browse through  the menu,  and when I was ready to place my order,  he takes out his pad and a pen,  and starts jotting it down.

I rubbed my hands together in excitement.

"I think I'll have a movie.
Hmm...  Let's say, a thriller? .
Hmm. Make it intense. The characters thick.
Tell the chef there will be a special something for him if he could make the dialogues a notch too dark. "

He was nodding, and scribbling all the way.
"And your drink, sir? "

" A medium dry martini, lemon peel. Shaken, not stirred."

"Will that be all, sir?"  I found him asking. 

"Surprise me",  I told him, and winked. A jolly good mood I was in.

As he takes the menu back,  it slips from his frail hand. 
He smiles and while he picks it up,  says "Why do menus fall down, sir? Because we can learn to pick them up."

Something is off with this guy for sure.

Away he went.

You know the strange feeling you get when you feel you are being watched?
I was starting to get one of those weird, near paranoid chills creeping up my spine. 
I scanned the room in anticipation.
And I saw this old man in a faraway corner of the room looking straight at me.
He seemed familiar.
I have seen him somewhere,  I knew that.

As I was watching him, I saw this vague cloud of memory floating along the most stagnant areas of my consciousness. 
The harder I tried to catch it, the faster it kept slipping away.

I knew that I knew him. Damn my memory.

When lifted my face back up, there he was,  right in front of me,  inches away from my nose, staring into my eyes, a nasty grin on his face.

"Why so serious? " he asks me.

This guy was a total mess. 
His coat was a dark purple.
A dirty kind of purple. 
His hair was unkempt, and had a rotten tree colour to it.
He even smelled weird. 
But there was an eerie air of familiarity about it all, and believe me, that was unsettling.

He just stood there, bent, a hand on the table,  having the table carry half his weight for him.
He had one of his hands in his coat pocket.
Then he takes his hand out, like a wizard drawing his wand, just that he had a pencil instead, and not a wand.

"How about a magic trick?" he asks me.

And then, I knew.!

"I th.. th.. thought you were dead. "
I  verbalised,with a stutter that I hadn't known I possessed.

It was then that this guy who was sitting right next to me spoke up.
Wonder how I didn't notice him sitting there up until now, well he might've slipped in while I was busy with this other guy.

Anyway,  this gentleman clad in a white tuxedo,  and a white hat,  dressed as impeccably as any guy ever could, had his icy blue eyes fixed on the loony old man.

He said "Dear,  if you can't be polite to our guests,  you'll have to sit at the kiddies' table."

The raspiness in his voice was more serpentine than human.
And an unsettling hiss stayed in the air a while longer than it ought to.

"Now you are being rude. And you know I hate rude people. "


The message was clear, and was delivered with precision.
I saw the old man leave with his pencil,  no words spoken.

I knew this man.  I knew that I knew him.

He was smiling at me, all courteous.

"Good evening,  doctor. " I heard myself saying. 

He just smiled and nodded in response. 

And he had already started eating.
You should believe me when I say this. 
There was nothing, I mean nothing, more satisfying than watching him eat. 
Savouring every little smell, every fine delicacy. One could only wish to eat like he did.

Then I see a man walking towards our table. 
This tall, real tall, man had a revolver drawn ready at the doctor sitting near me. 
He had his eyes squeezed so tight that there were just two thick lines instead. 
He had a burning cigar in one corner of his mouth, that made it impossible for one to say if he had a smile on, or not.

As he came near my table,  I saw the doctor look up at him and smile.

This guy has a hell lot of manners, thought I.

The man with the gun says to the doctor "I know what you are thinking. "

He took his cigar from his mouth with his right hand, looked at it, spat a gobble down,  and placed the cigar back in its position,  all the time having the doctor at gun point.

The doctor put his fork down,  wiped his lips clean with the serviette, and put that down by his plate, like he had all the time in the world.

Then the Doctor says "You know,  once a census taker tried to test me. 
I ate his liver with some fava beans, and a nice chianti. "
I could see his eyes sparkle.

But the man with the gun wasn't intimidated at all.
Not one bit.
He didn't even flinch.

He said "Well.. This being a .44 magnum,the most powerful hand gun in the world, that could blow your head clean off, You gotta ask yourself one question. 
Do I feel lucky.?
Well,  do ya punk. . ?"


The doctor gripped the fork tight.
The man with the squeezed eyes, who evidently was enjoying where this was going, and now most clearly having a quite visible and real queer sneer on his lips,  said ,
"Go ahead.  Make my day.!"



The scene was building to a crescendo. 
People were gathering around. 

I saw the coffin maker with the white beard,  a girl in the yellow jacket with a Hatori Hanzo sword,  and I could make out a jewish american soldier with a baseball bat.  I saw the bearded dentist bounty hunter,  and his black freeman partner.  And I think I saw Tyler durden among them in a flash, but I can't be sure of that.

Then, the doctor  took the knife with him and dived for cover, behind me.  Just like that.
I saw the revolver swinging behind him, and, I had myself staring into the gun now. 

It's a curious thing,  you know, how large the barrel seems when you are staring straight into it.

I could see his narrow eyes getting narrower still,  the cigar quivering in his mouth. And then, I knew he was going to shoot.

Then, suddenly, there was music in the air.

Adele, The sky fall. 

How apt.

Everyone at once checked their cell phones, and a chuckle or two left their lips when they realised it wasn't their phone that ruined the scene.

Even the doctor and the gun slinger checked theirs. 

But by now the music had stopped. 

Every one regained their composure, and the tension was back in the air. 

The cowboy gunman said "Well, there are two kinds of people in the world, doc.
The ones with the gun, and.."

Then it started ringing again. The same tune. 

I could feel the heat of a hundred stares on me.

"Arghh. Can't you at least just lemme finish the punchline? ",the gunslinger was clearly not in a good mood.

The doctor nudged me from behind, and urged me to go get it over with.
I looked at the man with the gun. He didn't bat an eyelid.

And, I ever so slowly, without raising any alarm whatsoever, put my hand into my breast pocket and fished for my phone.

But it wasn't there.!

Something wasn't right. 
I always keep my phone in my breast pocket.
Where the hell was it.

This song was starting to annoy everyone around, me included. I search around.

And then, I find it under my pillow.

It reads 6.45 am.
6 missed calls.  Fox.
God i'm late.

It should've been ringing for quite some time now. I need to get going.
Lucius must be really mad by now.
The guy is such a pain in the ass. Who does he think he is? God?
Ego issues, you see.

I find my totem, the spinning top, from the draw, and lets it spin.

Where the hell is Alfred?
He should've woken me up. He knows I was up late last night.
The old man is getting slow.

I was waiting for the dreidel to fall, when a loud sound throws me off my bed.

What the fuck just happened?

Am I getting shot at?

I check my body.
No bullet wounds. No bleeding spots.
Hell it didn't even hurt.

But I feel a little dizzy. 
I can hear, no, I can feel my heart beating. 

No. Now I can't.

Then comes that sound again.
This time I'm thrown against the wall.
And my chest hurts.
Not just my chest though. I'm in pain.
I can't find any wounds, though.
Yes, I'm shaking. And yes, I'm afraid.

I can hear it beating.
Loud.
And that's all that I can hear now.
Lub dub.  Lub dub.
Every other sound gets muffled. 
I see the walls closing in on me.
Every inch of my body feels like it's on fire.
I close my eyes.  I close them tight.

I hear faint noises calling out my name.
I hear them telling me to stay with them.
I hear the wailing of an ambulance siren.
I hear someone shouting "CLEAR.!"

And then there is that sound again.
I feel like I'm shot in the chest.

The Lub dub gets faster.  Stronger.
I open my eyes.

WHY THE FUCK AM I IN AN AMBULANCE?

I see a man with a stethoscope leaning over me.
I try to speak, but I can't,for there is a tube down my throat.

"He's awake",shouts the doctor, his face triumphant.
"Stay with me",he says.


I nod in return.

I could hear the dreidel spinning still.