Vision of the New Year (the Man, the Plan, the Vision) [HOL2014]

Vision of the New Year

Part I - The Man
Ii was an unseasonably cold New Year's Eve. The jet stream had ushered in a bitter freeze just in time for the New Year, sending shivers into every corner and crevace of the mean streets of the city.

A man in a long overcoat walked briskly down 32nd Street, hunched over with his eyes on the freshly-shoveled sidewalk, either deeply in thought or watching so as not to slip on an ice patch. The streets were well-lit with the glimmer of the holidays, but Cal Mariminn took a left down the dark alley between the buildings, cursing the New Year's Eve revelry under his frozen breath.

As he trudged through the ice and snow, weaving between dumpsters and bums, Cal reflected on how it had come to this. He started dealing and distributing for Johnny Torazzo and his gang a few years ago, raking in cash, feeding the epidemic of heroin flooding the streets. At first it was a dream, a high-rolling, product-flowing extravaganza where everyone came out golden except, of course, the consumers at the bottom.

Cal stumbled back into the lights on 33rd, and took a right at the mission where Father McNeil was serving soup to the homeless. "Bums," he mumbled as he turned his nose at the odor of the mission's cheap cabbage swill, his mind wandering back to his current predicament. "It ain't my fault Johnny got so goddam greedy," thought Cal.

As he passed the church on the corner of Bremen Avenue, he could hear the choir from the New Year's Eve service belting out "Joy to the World." Cal remembered back to his youthful days in the choir, how the warmth and sounds filled the chapel. "Hmmph," he grunted. "No use for that now."

The problems started for Cal when Johnny T figured out he was skimming. Cal had surmised there was enough to go around, thought the boss wouldn't notice, so he kept a little here, and a little there. Johnny T pinned him down at the last drop, confronted him and demanded $15G in compensation by New Year's "for the continuance of good business... and good health." Well, time was up. Time to pay.

And he could have paid, too, if it weren't for last week in Vegas. A coke-fueled debacle of gambling, booze, and hookers had set him back a fair chunk, $20G to be exact, so now there was no way he could pay Johnny T. It was time to either run, beg, or blast. Running wasn't Cal's style, and Johnny never let beggars walk alive past a deadline.

Cal rounded the corner of 33rd and Finley, looking up at the blinking lights of the Finley Lounge, where Johnny T and his boys would be hanging out. "The devil is due," he thought. "I was gonna make a move on Johnny soon, anyhow." Being a middle-man worked for awhile for Cal, but he had his sights on bigger things. He needed to think about his future.

Part II - The Plan
Cal walked casually down the alley to the back entrance of the Finley Lounge. He could hear the music thumping against the graffiti-covered wall. It was early, only 8:30, but the New Year's party had already begun. "Perfect," he thought, "this may gimme just the opportunity I need."

Peeking in through the store-room win-dow, Cal could barely make out Johnny T's usual booth in the back, but could see well enough that he was there accompanied by several prostitutes and a few of his thugs. Cal headed to the back door and crouched behind the dumpster. Now he just had to wait for his moment.

After an hour or so, his moment came. Inevitably, a stupid and drunk New Year's partier had pissed off Johnny T and was being escorted into the back alley by two of his henchmen. The back door burst open and out came a scrawny punk, face first and already bleeding from the mouth. Johnny's boys dragged the kid away from the door and started working him over, kicking him in the guts as he screamed and writhed.

Lying next to the back door was the stupid New Year's party hat the poor kid was wearing. "More perfect," thought Cal. He picked up the goofy hat, wiped off the blood, and stuck it on his head. With the back door bouncer busy beating the punk, it was a straight shot to Johnny's booth. "In and out," thought Cal.

He snuck in the back door. The club was loud and dark, and there were people everywhere, wearing stupid new years hats and glitter. Nobody really noticed the new party-goer until Cal reached the booth, pulled the .45 and laid into Johnny T with 4 rounds.

Cal made for the back door at a run. He could hear the panic and screams behind him, but he had 2 more thugs to deal with and he was home free. He burst out the back door, but they were already approaching from hearing the gunshots inside. He got off one shot. *BOOM* One down, but the other thug got to him before he could cap off another round.

Cal was wrestled to the ground, and the muscle-bound bouncer wrenched the gun from his hand. But Cal had been in his fair share of tussles, and had already written off the gun. While the thug was worried about the gun, Cal got his knife out of his other pocket and buried it, hilt deep, right in his abdomen.

Cal took off running. "No more Johnny T to worry about," he chuckled when he heard a loud crack followed by a sharp pain in his right arm. The stricken henchmen had managed to get off a shot. "Bastard shot me with my own piece," thought Cal, making his way as fast as he could back into the shadows of the night.

Part III - The Vision
Bleeding and on the run, Cal headed into the alley near the low-income apartments on 34th Street. He clambered noisily up the fire escape, checking windows as he made his way up. He needed to find a safe spot to check out how bad he'd been shot. On the sixth floor, he found a win-dow that budged. He slipped his frozen fingers underneath the pane, gave it a pull, and flopped himself over the edge into the darkness.

Inside and on the floor, Cal looked around the dark apartment. Luckily, he landed in an unoccupied bedroom, but there was a faint glow coming from the doorway. He waited silently, listening for any sign of occupants. After a minute or two to catch his breath, he grabbed a pillow case from the bed near the window to wrap up his arm. He took off his coat to check the damage. The bullet had passed right through, no major arteries hit. Cal wrapped it tightly and got ready to move.

He could hear the mayhem on the street below, sirens and loud voices. His mind raced -- make for the back stairwell, get to the viaduct and head for the bus station on 27th. Creeping slowly toward the dim glow of the open doorway, Cal readied his knife then rounded the corner, down the hallway, past the kitchen. "Good. Nobody home," he thought. The glow was just a shabby Christmas tree in the family room.

Cal made it 5 feet from the door when he heard a sound. He spun around ready for action, but was shocked to see a little girl, maybe five or six years old, kneeling in front of the Christmas tree. The dingy lights from the sagging tree reflected off her auburn hair, and she clutched a teddy bear in her arms.

"Shhh" he motioned, thinking about what to do. "She's gonna wake up her parents, and the cops are only a few blocks away," thought Cal. He looked at the knife in his hand, then back at the little girl. She didn't scream, just looked at Cal in wonder, then pulled the string on her teddy bear. The tattered bear started playing a warbly version of "Joy to the World."

Cal's attention was suddenly drawn to the star atop the Christmas tree, as it appeared to be glowing brighter than before. The music from the bear got louder and louder as the star got brighter and brighter. Cal's head started spinning. Soon, the entire room was filled with a blinding white light, and "Joy to the World" rattled his skull at unearthly decibels.

Suddenly from beneath him, Cal was lifted out of his body by two ethereal beings. He watched the apartment building fade below as he was gently lifted into the night sky overlooking the city. To his left and right were angelic figures comprised of light, like millions of many-faceted diamonds spinning in unison.

The angels carried him without touching him, swooping freely to-and-fro over buildings and between the people walking the city streets. They stopped briefly near the mission, where Father McNeil was still smiling and serving soup to the needy, hovering close enough for Cal to see the joy on their faces.

Then on to 29th Street, where Mr. Kim was busy in his market, chopping fruit to serve to the hungry, as he did every New Year's Day for the past 22 years. Up, up, and over they glided to a family's home on 34th Street, where the children sang with their parents near a warm, cozy fire. Then finally, the angels suspended Cal in the church, where the echoes of "Joy to the World" were still effervescing in the hallowed chapel, more magnificent than ever before.

As his vision continued, Cal wondered what had become of Johnny T and his boys. Nearing the Finley Lounge, his heavenly hosts hovered momentarily over the scene, the bodies of the deceased, the revelers crying in the street. The contrast of his handiwork compared to the others in his vision was startling.

"Take me back" he said, suddenly wanting desperately to be back in the apartment with the auburn-haired girl so he could just get out of there, get out of the city and never see it again. As they descended upon the squalid apartments, Cal tried to see into the building, to catch a glimpse of that peaceful girl in front of the Christmas tree, maybe hear a few more notes of "Joy to the World" before he made his timely escape.

But all Cal could see was a dark, black void pulsating from the bottom of the fire escape, black vines of nothingness crawling up the lattice to the 6th floor win-dow. The blackness grew and ascended until it touched his feet, and he passed out as the darkness enveloped him.

When Cal came to, he was standing on the railing of the fire escape outside the open window on the 6th floor. The freezing winter air was swirling around him. He turned to glance in the window, to catch a glimpse of the girl, or the warm glow of the tree and the white light, but he couldn't.

Cal's mind was now inexplicably transfixed upon and filled with a singular thought. He looked down the length of the fire escape, over the edge and into the black void of his future. He realized that he had no Vision for the New Year. There was only one way he could bring the beautiful resonance of "Joy to the World" to the people of the city.

Cal Mariminn was smiling upon impact with the pavement below, for he knew that God had given him a true vision of his future. Father McNeil walked over from the mission, but was too late for last rites.

Ummm... nobody really reads these stories. Maybe 10 people, perhaps 20. Best case, 30.

I'm not sure it's worth the time, really.

And we all sing "Nobody cares. Everybody knows that nobody cares". It's a catchy tune.

a reply to: InTheFlesh1980

Nicely Written Story here ITF!!! I liked it a Lot!!! S+F for You!!! Syx.

a reply to: SyxPak

Thank you! Thank you!
Thank you for reading it, and I am glad you enjoyed it Syx!

a reply to: InTheFlesh1980

You are Welcome!
I hope this get's more exposure. It is very well done!
I found that the time of day I post Stories, Poems, makes a difference to how many people will read them. Late at night is worse than dropping in something in the mid morning, late morn, or like afternoon and mid day.. CatchYa Later, Syx.

I have to agree with Syx,your story is extremely well written. Also do not be discouraged about lack of replies. I have written many stories here and it is just as much for my own pleasure as it is member feedback. The boards have an ebb and flow that one can never predict what will grab members attention and take off,or get buried. It's not something to take personally and has no bearing on how good your post is. You have an extreme talent for writing in my opinion.

a reply to: AccessDenied

Good points. Thank you for reading, and thanks for the kind words. Happy New Year!

Shiza! You better get writer status at some point.

Fantastic!

Nicely done.

P