The Sopranos: Caliper Story

EPISODE FIVE (Part Three)

EPISODE FIVE (Part Three)

~~~

Sal’s Toyota Supra was comfortable to drive in. It was easy to control and made me feel like I was driving on a cloud. And on the plus side, the car smelled like his guy soap and whatever detergent he uses on his clothes.

      The roads were completely empty, which made it safe to use the high beam so I could see farther into the roads.

     I cruised through downtown until I reached an overpass. My eyes felt heavy and I told myself that if I saw anything peculiar, not to believe my eyes. It was the sleepiness and the alcohol.

     I thought about Sal, and on cue, I felt a tickling feeling in my chest and I was tempted to smile like an idiot.

     As I moved into a different area of the city, basically, the Soprano’s turf, the Supra’s headlights shone against something wildly sparkly. The lightness of the blue paint seemed oddly familiar.

     It was a sky blue Ford GT, parked beside a large tree on the garden-ish side of the road across from our safe house. 

     My heart rung in my ears. I stomp on the gas. Was it waiting for me? To attack me like they did Eddie? It was clever, but if it wasn’t for that high beam, I wouldn’t have spotted it.

     I sped past him and he follows my tail. This was one of them. The real Ford GT was inside the safe house and was already partly painted in white when Sal and I had rested. So this one that was chasing me, was not the same vehicle.

      It was one of the fakes.

     I look behind me. He wasn’t stopping. I led him to the boardwalk. Suddenly, I wasn’t so tired anymore. My hands grew cold and I was in danger of panicking. Just in case something happens, I was alone and I couldn’t call anyone without letting go of the wheel, and Sal’s car didn’t have an intercom. But even then, I’d be too far from my friends’ vehicles.

     I could see the beach umbrellas set on tables with fold-up chairs around the beach-side stores. The railings were to my left, so at the end of the road, before the sharp turn, I jerk the steering wheel to the left, abruptly stomping on the brake, the Tuner cooperates expertly. And I knew Sal’s car and I were bonding.

     The car faces back the other way and before I was inches away from the railings, I straightened the wheel and floored it. The Ford tries to attempt the major move I just made, trying to follow my exact turn. I looked at the rearview mirror, my teeth clenched.

     He did turn successfully, but he wasn’t as sharp as he thought, because it was too late when he’s stepped on the gas. I see the Ford braking, but it had already hit the railings, crushing them, and the Ford’s weight was already on the edge, in danger of touching the water.

      With the right side of his wheels off the ground, it was physically impossible for him to move or do anything without completely dunking himself in the water.

     He was stuck.

     I turn around, making sure I flashed my high beam at the driver’s side window. He was furious by now, I knew it. I could feel it. The cars spoke it.

     I let go of the gas as I slowly pull over beside his window. I press a button to roll the window down. He didn’t do so, but I knew we were face to face. If only I could see whose face it was behind that tinted window.

     I was steaming, angry, blowing air out of my nose like a bull. I stare into the tinted window at eye level since the Ford was a low ride, and snarled, “Get out of my city.”

     Since this wasn’t my ride, I couldn’t knock him off the boardwalk and cause Sal’s Supra a scratch. I shift back into first gear and let go of the clutch, driving away. 

     I take a different route. No way was I going to let them follow me into MY safe house just in case there were more.

     But what puzzled me was how they knew I was in the Supra. My hands grew cold. Sal and his Supra. Was I set up to get killed tonight? Did anyone plan this with him?

     My heart pulsed and held on tighter to the steering wheel. I don’t like being lied to. 

     I want answers, so I drove back to Sal’s apartment.

~~~

I stomped up the stairs to his apartment, every step echoing around the spiral stairs.

     When I’d reached his door, I’d pounded on it. I tried the handle and found it was open. “Sal.” I demanded, 

     He was in the center of the room, eyes widen, wondering what he did wrong. “You set me up!” I yelled, walking over to him, shoving him onto his own apartment’s windows. The sun was now coming up.

     “Birch, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, his voice firm and sure.

     “You set me up in your Supra. How else would they know it was me, huh?!” I growl, 

      He holds his hands up. “Look, whatever happened, it wasn’t me, I swear. I would never do that to you.”

      “Bullshit.” I grunt, letting go of him, feeling the tears rolling down my cheek. I reach up and held fistfuls of my hair, trying to pull them all out. Insanity was creeping in.

      “It wasn’t me. I would never do that.” Sal says,

      I look up at him. My hurt eyes boring into him. “Prove it.” I say,

      He stands in front of me, speechless. I was ready to walk away, when the window behind him shatters, and a black metal arrow hits Sal in the shoulder. He doubles over, grunting in pain. 

     The apartment building across from us had a rooftop, and a black figure was scrambling away to make his getaway. He was too quick that I couldn’t identify even the simplest thing as the color of his skin. 

      But I saw the crossbow in hands. The big kind that meant no joke, the kind for hunting.

     There was a note punctured on the arrow in Sal’s shoulder. He cried in pain as I tried removing it. I take the note into my shaking hands. It read:

      “Headlights gleam, it’s like a dream. Speeding down your open road, you think you’re winning. Close your eyes, there’s nothing to see. I’m silent as I hunt. You won’t see me.”

      I dropped the note and collapse on my knees. “I have nothing to do with it, I swear.” He says desperately in short gasps. “I would never-“

      His eyelids fall and he passes out. 

     I swallow hard, my heart beating so hard that I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t Sal. It wasn’t Sal. If it was, I’d already been dead, but here he was with the arrow in his shoulder. 

      If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have gone through all this. He wouldn’t hold me like he does, he wouldn’t offer to drive me, he wouldn’t stay up late to help paint for just someone he was planning on killing.

     My hands trembled and my voice shook as I said, “I know. I know, I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t you. I’m so sorry.” Over and over and over again.