Just then, they passed an
elderly caucasion man seated on a bench on the pavement. He wore a faded black
fedora low over his misty grey eyes, along with a blue shirt, light-brown
slacks and black loafers that were worn through to the soles of his feet. The
man rose to his feet at their approach.
“Good afternoon, my young
friends. I trust that both of you are well on this fine day?”
“Yes sir, we’re both just
fine thanks.” Raff replied.
“Yes indeed.” Cassie agreed,
with a bright and friendly smile.
“Splendid news, simply
splendid!” The old man then began to shuffle a little where he stood.
“My friends, much as it
pains me to do so, I must ask a small favour of you. You see, this old body,”
he looked down at himself appraisingly, “it just isn’t as strong as it once
was. My troubles are worsened by the fact that, for quite some years now, I’ve
had no place to call my own.”
Raff could see the turn
this conversation was taking and yet, he felt no impatience. Instead, what he
found in his heart was genuine compassion for the man. While the old gentleman
spoke, Raff glanced at Cassie, and could tell from her facial expression that
she had similar feelings.
Reaching into his pocket,
Raff’s fingers once again felt the cool, irregular surface of the harmonica,
but this time, he reached a little further and pulled out a small wallet made
of black leather.
“Alright mister. Now I
don’t have much money either, but I can spare a little for you.” Raff took a
twenty-galleon note from the billfold, stepped forward, and handed it to him.
“I can help out a little
too,” Cassandra said.
From the little blue bag
slung over her shoulder, she removed a matching purse and found another twenty.
“I was just going to buy some makeup with this anyway,” she said, feeling
somewhat ashamed.
As she handed him her
contribution, the man took Cassandra’s hand and said, “Beauty such as yours
requires no enhancement,” having said this, he released her hand.
“I am most grateful to you
children for this act of kindness,” he made a gesture not unlike a bow.
“That’s okay.” Raff said.
“Please don’t waste it,
alright?” Cassie added.
The old man shook his head
slowly, “I can assure you that your generosity is not in vain.”
“That’s good to know,” she
replied happily.
“Well, we’ve got to get
going now, take care of yourself sir.”
“Certainly,” the old man
said with a wide smile.
As the two walked on, they
discussed the beggar.
“You know,” Cassie mused,
“it’s really sad when someone gets stuck in a situation like that. I’m glad we
could help him out a bit.”
Raff nodded. “I don’t mind
giving up some spare money, if it’s for a good reason.”
He then began to watch as
two young boys of perhaps nine or ten, a little further up the street, started
throwing a ball to one another.
After a few moments of
simply standing and watching the boys’ game, Raff heard Cassie softly say,
“Raphael.”
He turned slowly. “How many
times have I got to tell you---?”
The vagrant stood behind
Cassandra, his expression hard and cold. His right arm was wrapped around her
neck; his hand clutched the wide handle of a large switchblade with a long,
serrated edge. When he registered what he was seeing, Raff felt a sudden,
constricting wave of panic grip his throat. He struggled to keep his voice even
and calm as he said, “What the hell are you doing man? We gave you what we
could!”
He smiled cruelly, “Yes,
thanks again.”
“Why are you threatening my
friend then?”
The man’s expression
changed from a smile to feigned shock. “A threat? No, not at all. This is just
a tool to ensure that you give me what I want.”
Raff was confused. “What do you mean? We gave
you money, that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“Please sir,” Cassandra
said shakily, “just drop the knife, let me go and walk away. We won’t even call
the police.”
With a long sigh, he shook
his head, “I’m afraid I can’t let you go. Not until your young man there gives
me what I really want, that lovely harmonica he has. Why don’t you take it out,
so I can have a good look at it?”
Reluctantly, Raphael retrieved
it from his pocket. “I can’t give you this, it means a hell of a lot to my
mother and me.”
The old man let out a peel
of harsh, barking laughter. “Well then, the sentimental value should double its
resale price. Listen boy, if I don’t get that thing quick, your girl here’s
gonna get bloodstains all over her fancy shirt.”
“Okay, okay! Just don’t do
anything. Here,” Raff threw the harmonica to the old man, but the throw had too
much distance. As he stepped back to catch it, Cassandra sensed a chance. She
swivelled her hips slightly and brought her right leg off the ground. In one
fluid movement, she brought her foot back down, with all the force she could
summon, on the point of his toe, while simultaneously driving her left elbow
into his ribs.
As he stumbled back, Cassie
lurched forward, out of his grasp. The blade caught her neck and opened up a
deep cut on the right side. As she fell to her hands and knees, Raphael sprang
into action. He quickly sidestepped past her and landed a right-left combination
to the old thief’s jaw. After he fell, Raff knelt and struck the man’s now
bleeding face with one more hard right to be sure that the he was knocked
unconscious. He then took the switchblade, retracted it and shoved it into his
empty back pocket.
Turning back to where
Cassie had fallen, Raff could see the blood had begun to flow quickly from the
nasty gash. At her side, he got to one knee. “I’ve got to get you out of here.
Roll over so I can lift you.” On her back, Cassandra looked frightened and pale.
He pulled off his shirt, lifted her head and tied it securely around her neck.
“To slow down the bleeding,”
he answered her questioning eyes. He put one arm under her legs and the other
at the base of her neck to support her head. On his feet once more, Raff said,
“I’ll get you home, Cassie.”
With Cassie in his arms,
Raff moved quickly down the street. At his approach, the two boys stopped
throwing the ball and gawked at the wounded girl.
“What happened to her?” the
older one asked.
“That old man back there
tried to rob us, call the police.”
At this, the boys scurried
inside and as he hurried onward toward number 511, Raff heard the boys calling
for their mother.
On the front steps of
Cassie’s building, Raff almost knocked over another resident, on her way out of
the door. He asked the bewildered woman if she knew Cassie, the woman nodded
and asked what had happened. Becoming frantic now, Raff yelled, “Just tell me
which apartment she lives in!”
The woman stammered, “It’s
101. The first door to the left on the second floor.”
Raff rushed up the stairs
and kicked the door open. Once inside, he found an extremely startled man with
a sandwich in one hand and a TV remote in the other.
“Are you Cassandra’s
father?” he asked.
“Yeah, who did this to
her?”
After carefully laying her
on the couch where Peter had been sitting, Raff said, “I’m Raphael Davis, we
were attacked by an old thief on our way here. You should call an ambulance,
now.”
While paramedics stitched
the wound and gave Cassie a mild sedative to combat the shock, Peter cornered
Raff in the kitchen. In a deep, but panicked voice, he asked Raff who he was,
and exactly how his daughter had been hurt.
“As I said before, my name
is Raphael Davis. I met Cassie two weeks ago, we catch the same bus home from
work every day, and we’re friends.”
“And if this thief is so
old, how was he able to do this to Cassandra?
“He told us a sob-story and
we both felt bad for him, so we gave him some money,” Raff retrieved his
father’s harmonica from his pocket, “while we were walking the rest of the way
here, I got distracted watching two kids playing catch. The thief came up
behind Cassie and threatened to cut her throat if I didn’t give him this.” He
put the harmonica on the table and looked uncertainly at Peter.
Peter dropped into one of
the chairs behind the table, buried his face in his hands and let out a low
groan. When he looked up again, there was anger in his eyes. “Why didn’t you just
give it to him?”
Raff hung his head, “I
threw it to him, but his switchblade caught Cassie’s neck as she pulled free. I
took it from him.” He put the knife down next to the harmonica.
“If you’re her friend, why
is my daughter the one who got hurt?” Peter shouted.
Just then, one of the paramedics
entered the room and said, “Mr Phoenix, we’re done here. Cassandra will be
fine, just let her rest for a while and make sure she’s careful with the
stitches. Oh, she’s asking for the two of you.”
“Thanks for everything.”
Peter said.
“All part of the job, sir.”
After the paramedics were gone,
Peter knelt at Cassie’s side and held her hand, while Raff stood awkwardly in
the doorway.
“How you doing, baby girl?”
“I’m a little jumpy, but
I’ll be okay. I’m just glad Raff was there to protect me.”
“Protect you? As far as I
can see, he’s the cause of this.” Peter said with a scornful glare.
Cassie touched a calming
hand to her father’s cheek. “Hey, if he hadn’t been with me, the situation
could’ve been a whole lot worse. You should be grateful.”
Raff shifted uncomfortably
where he stood. “I’m just sorry about all this.”
“You should be.”
“That’s enough!” Cassie
shouted, “He stopped that old man before he could do anything more to me, and
if you want someone to blame, blame me. I’m the one that was dumb enough to
fight with the guy.”
Raff walked toward the door,
picked up his blood-stained shirt from the floor and said, “I think I should
go, you don’t need this right now.”
“That would be best.” Peter
said.
As he reached the door,
Cassandra sat up, “Wait, please don’t leave yet, this wasn’t your fault.”
He looked back and said,
“It’s okay Cassie, I get it. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Take care of
that cut.”
As he walked down the hall
toward the building’s entrance, Cassie’s call of, “Come back Raff, I want you
here!” rang repeatedly in his ears long after he could no longer hear her
voice.
============================================================
[Come back next week for part 4.]
No comments:
Post a Comment