Ruby Red Marionette

sixteen | patriot

I knew it wasn't going to be easy in the dark.

The task of going over every single step I made weeks ago without any street signs or familiarity was a job on its own, and even just walking there the first time with Charlie was exhausting. But I wouldn't be pacing through the streets of an alien environment if it wasn't important.

Well, I usually would, but this time I did have a reason.

Devin walked beside me, staring down at the ground like I was, as if following my gaze would help him find what I was looking for. He couldn't find it, because he'd never seen it. His feet never stepped in the spots that I was marking for the second time. I stood to his left, just like I was to Charlie's left. I told him in what direction to walk and at what pace - when to slow down or speed up, when to wander away or come closer to me. For now, in the first solid hour of the night when the moon was brightest and the sky was darkest, he was Charlie, and by being Charlie, I had something to move relative to.

"How can you see anything?" He asked. I hushed him with my finger, raising my head for the first time in a few minutes to check our surroundings. The scenery looked like what I'd seen that day, but I couldn't rely on it. For the past thirty minutes we'd been walking through a maze of streets that perfectly resembled the one I was looking for, and we got lost once already. Multi-tasking between retracing my path and connecting images was pointless; everything was the same and nothing was real.

"I can't see anything here," I answered him, "but I can feel it. Like, when you walk like a scheming, lying, middle-aged white detective like I told you to, far to my right but every five minutes coming in a little closer, I remember how to walk. I remember how I was walking on that day. I can almost feel footprints in the ground, and every time I step in the right place, a picture comes into my mind of where I stepped next, and I follow. It's a process."

I didn't tell Devin about Charlie, or anything. I ignored his questions and told him to follow my instructions. Recalling the events, even in the littlest detail, would take up a section of my brain that I needed to use to focus.

"Right. All I need to do is walk." Devin mumbled. I looked up at him for a brief moment; there was a hint of attitude and impatience on his face.

"You know what you can do for me? While walking the right way - which is a very important aspect to this technique, whether you think so or not - you can look at the house numbers. Memorize them. Notice if any of them have gaps, if any numbers are missing between houses. Got it?"

He still looked disinterested and jaded, but began to watch the houses anyway.

I continued walking, and Devin found no discrepancies. The house numbers we were searching for were the 105-70's, and the missing one was 105-74. I didn't tell him this; in case he found other missing houses besides those, it would be helpful to memorize them.

One block passed, and for a few seconds I wasn't paying attention. My mind wandered off to the night Carlos died. I wasn't thinking about the death itself, but about the restaurant we went to before. Carlos was talking to the bartender about the bar business, and when Carlos expressed serious interest, the bartender said that he was a real estate agent, and that was where the real money was. I didn't listen long enough for his name or his agency, but real estate agents have information about the houses in the area. They would know about these houses, if anyone would.

But I couldn't think about that now. When I looked back up, I was lost. The houses around me didn't ring a bell, or maybe they did. I couldn't remember. It was dark and I was tired and Devin was too quiet. None of the houses said 105-anything. We had to give up.

"Look, G. 417, 419, and then 420, all on the same block. The even numbers are supposed to be on the other side." He said suddenly. I looked up at where he pointed; to our right, there were three consecutive houses with the numbers he listed. But that seemed to be the only error as far as I could see from the very start of the block.