Death of a Hundred Kisses

And Then There Were Two

Every morning was a hell if you could hear yourself breathe.

I always could hear my breaths from a long time ago. I was never comfortable with that, but well, world wasn’t a place to find comfort.

The airbase was quite far from my house. I could remember the last time, the time I went to Milan for the first time. It was a hell of an experience, but it taught me to breathe in any air, inhale in none.

It took me two hours to go to the airbase. It had been a private property for many years. And nobody never had the passenger list, which was helpful for me. I knew that the moment I would be open about my hunches to my squad, I would be kept under surveillance.

I could see the car from home outside the airbase. That old geezer? Why was he here?

I slowly walked in with my backpack, it was gorgeous and fancy inside, like always. The people who built the interior surely had a great choice. Wouldn’t it be great to live in here forever?

In the hall room, there was a big table for guests in arrival or departure. I could see grandpa sitting there, by himself, smoking a cigar, thinking if it was cool. I could bet it wasn’t. I tried to ignore him and walked past him to the lounge.

But I couldn’t. He looked at me, ‘Is being angry your coping mechanism in existence?’

Why couldn’t I ignore him? ‘No, being angry is my redemption from you.’

He sighed, ‘Lazio, have a seat.’

I had no will to sit, but his power had an authority to make one do things unwillingly.

I sat down, he cut me a new cigar. I kept it back, ‘Not interested.’

A voice from behind emerged, ‘I think Sir Ephron doesn’t want heavy breaths now.’ I could recognize the voice, it was Ranko.

I looked to my behind. It was really Ranko, he aged a bit.

He stood beside me, ‘I will be your guide for the Milan tour, Sir Ephron. I hope you wouldn’t mind.’

Again? Well, I wouldn’t mind. But it really felt suspicious.

I looked at Ranko, ‘I wouldn’t mind, Ranko. But shouldn’t I? How would you convince me to believe that it isn’t a part of keeping tabs on me, by the Don himself?’

Grandpa laughed, ‘I told you, he would say exactly that. I made him, Ranko.’

I laughed, ‘Making is a heavy word, man. You kind of stooped down in front of me.’

That bastard was patient enough to endure an insult.

I asked Ranko, ‘Will your assistance have any jurisdiction over my visit?’

He denied, ‘By all means, Sir Ephron, I am here just to take you to Milan and to return you here safely, nothing else.’

I thought. A native might come in handy.

I took my backpack with me, ‘Then I hope you stay by your words.’

Grandpa looked at me, ‘Return safely. And don’t let this obsession of justice endure you. Remember, this is not what you want. This is what keeps you in denial.’

Ah, f**k it. Nothing was worse than getting lectures from a murderer manipulative don.

The plane took off quite shortly. I had to get a proper sleep before reaching to Milan. I still felt quite guilty leaving the squad on a wild goose chase. Micah was so hopeful for me.

But why should I feel guilty? I had always done everything on my own. This was no exception.

When I woke up, we were in Milan, landing in a scrappy airbase.

The air of Milan was the same, filled with heavy disappointment. It was no surprise. Italy never welcomed me with innocence, it was a holy place for ungodliness.

I remembered Hotel Foernicato. It looked as if nothing changed in these three years. The rusty but attractive exterior, the warm welcome of the guards, the pleasant air in the lobby, exactly the same. The receptionist was also the same, Mazzio.

He recognized me easily, ‘Sir Ephron, it's a great pleasure seeing you again.’

I knew that Ranko notified about my arrival here beforehand.

I handed Mazzio 10 bucks, ‘Get me a cab in thirty minutes, and no Ranko involved, okay?’

He nodded, ‘You could hand me the cash three years ago.’

I sighed, ‘I would if I knew what I was facing.’

‘Enjoy your lobster, Sir Ephron,’ he said respectfully.

I went to my suite. Maybe it was the only place in this hotel without any involvement of Ranko. Mazzio kept his promise, it was lobster. Lobsters in Italy was a heaven dissolved in mouth. If I were a historian, I would quote Italy as the enrichment of the earth, for both lobsters and mobsters.

I needed a fresh shower before anything. The bathrooms were the warehouse of thoughts. I had to plan the entire thing before anything, even if the bathroom was the only witness.

So, Durante had a mistress back then, Lilith. She was also the bartender in the Moraleta Bar. She knew me. So, the first thing would be contacting her, starting by visiting the Moraleta Bar. Maybe she could set me up for a meeting with him. In return, I maybe just would have to spend some times with her. I could easily ask my favor first, and ditch her later. That was unethical, surely. But having unnecessary s*x was more unethical. So comparatively, I had the choice to betray her. Secondly, I would never come back here again. So, I would never have to face the guilt. But the main thing, would Durante be comfortable with me?

The shower really was a thought provoking one. I dressed up for a short bar visit. But I couldn’t ignore the lobsters. Mazzio was a genius satisfying receptionist.

I heard a knock on my door. It might be Mazzio, sending some complimentary whiskey.

I opened the door, to be disappointed. It was Ranko.

I sighed, ‘I thought you were just happy to be just a chariot here.’

He looked at me, ‘Can I come in, Sir Ephron?’

I rolled my eyes from him, I had my lobsters to enjoy.

He took it as a yes and came into my room. I couldn’t care less.

I started eating my lobsters. Even the crusts had an unique scent, the food was totally unimaginable. But Ranko had to spoil the mood, ‘I saw a cab, calling for Mr. Ephron down there.’

I sighed, ‘Yeah, I needed to visit a bar.’

He looked at me, ‘Why should you?’

I was too tired of this shits, I got up to stand in his face, and shouted, ‘I need no babysitter. Don't try to interfere in my personal matter. I know more than a hundred ways to kill a person, and half of them are not swift one. So just go back to your room and never show your face to me before leaving. If you try to interfere once again, I swear I have every possible way to locate your family members, and kill each of them in four different pains. And you know, Ranko, I don’t swear for nothing.’

Ranko was pretty much startled by the words. I also realized, it was too much. I shouldn’t have lost control for this.

But it worked. He kept his head down, ‘I am extremely sorry for this inconvenience, Sir Ephron. I shouldn’t have crossed my limits. I will not interfere in any activity of yours furthermore. I hope my mistake will not be reflected on my family.’

He left from my room. Was it ethical? I didn’t know. It was just to get him out of my head.

Suddenly my phone rang, it was an unknown number, and I know only one person who would call me from unknown number.

I received the call, ‘Lazio, you did really great. And I know, you felt free, free from every pressure, every bad thought.’

How could this old geezer always be one step ahead of me? How was that even possible?

Then I remembered, Italy was his hometown. He had people everywhere, cameras in every inches.

I should get to the bar. Overthinking always ended up in worse compensation for me.

The Moraleta Bar was a treat to remember for me. I loved the time here, the time of my last visit here. Like Break-A-Beer, it wasn’t for losers. It was for the elite; it was for the organized people. I knew I never belonged there, but devil also had to visit heaven to lure Eve, right?

The jazz music here was also an elite one. The tune of saxophone, the seduction to the ears, it was a wonderful sensation.

A lady voice was singing with the music. It felt like the lady was born to sing with jazz. The tone, the pitches, the seductive voice, everything was perfectly at its place.

The lady was singing an English song, I couldn’t recognize the song. Maybe they wrote it up.

I tried to silently sing with the lady, tried to mumble the lyrics.

‘Now why would I lie?

Alone me, like a Rosemond guy,

Returning the low, returning the high,

But no one had to see me cry,

And then, love, I met you,

And then, love, there were two,

And then, love, I met you,

And then, love, there were two.’

The lyrics felt like a heaven with the clarinet. The tune from the double bass took the depth of the lyrics on a whole new level.

I whispered to myself, ‘What if we were two, though I never meet you?’

A whisper came back to me, ‘And then I tell you, we will always be two.’

I never expected a whisper back. I looked behind.

The whisperer was the only whisperer I knew, Micah.