Dream Journal

The Italian Mafia Crucifixion

The sky hung somber over the Città di Trampoli, darkening the irritable water below to a green-grey mass. Whitecaps licked up the powdered marble stilts that supported the base of the great city, leaving a ring of brine around their midsections. Shadowy stains loomed at the top, where the crests of only the highest waves could touch. I'd seen the Città di Trampoli from that angle only once, when I entered it years ago. Visions of the massive empire flashed before my eyes, reduced now to a blurry memory.

The heft of the waves beating echoed through the narrow streets, reaching the rooftops above only faintly. Up here, above the crowd and noise, the air wasn't forced still and sweltering by the broad buildings, and the cool breeze swept my hair out of my eyes.

I turned my nose up. This feeling of calm and serenity would be broken in only a moment. War and peace are fleeting, never stable, though they seem to be to those who have never experienced the two. I knew better.

A sudden vibration at my hip sent my hand diving into my pocket. I grabbed the sleek, rectangular body resting in the bottom and dragged it out. I held it in my hand for a moment, staring at the phone as though it were some alien device. Green letters flashed across the screen: UNKNOWN NUMBER. My heart skipped a beat as I flipped it open with my thumb. I lifted it to my ear without saying a word.

A cold, mechanical voice scraped against my eardrum, "we know where you are."

There was a brief silence, and the wind seemed to turn to ice against the back of my neck. I didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't blink. "We have the money you owed us, but we need to talk. This can't wait. Meet us at your safehouse, and make it quick; we have your brother sitting in with us, but he's starting to look uncomfortable."

My eyes widened, and the phone slipped out of my hand. It clattered against the roof and fell to its unfortunate death in the streets below. Standing on the rooftop only twenty feet away, separated by an abyss, was a figure shrouded in fog. They had their fists shoved deep in their jacket pockets, their stance relaxed. Their teeth flashed white as they smiled, and took off down the roof, bounding out of sight.

My legs began to move of their own accord, and I broke into a run across the rooftop. I sought the right footing and dug my feet into it forcefully, gaining speed with each step. The wind whipped furiously in my ear; I was flying. Anger and terror pumped through my veins. I leapt the gap between two close roofs with my arms wide, and pushed onward the moment I landed, barely stumbling.

I could see our little wooden safehouse, planks soaked from the stray mists of waves that breached the sides of the great marbled walls. I turned my head, and suddenly stopped in my tracks. I poked my toe at the banner running from this side of the street to the other, and put my hands behind my back, spreading them out like a bird in flight, took off. The rope dipped, and I leaned left and right to regain my balance.

My shoe caught the edge of the roof and I stumbled forward, speeding off once again. I crouched for ward as I ran and sprang through the air, my toes catching the wooden windowsill. I clutched the too of the window pane in my fist and glanced desperately left and right in search of my brother. The small back room was empty, and silent.

I dropped down into the room through the window and landed with a thud. I crouched, sneaking through the safe house skeptically. The rotting floorboards groaned under my weight, making me flinch. The clanking of heavy chains came into earshot and I rocketed forward into the main room. Strung up by his arms with thick iron chains and cuffs, hanging feebly from the cross to which he was bound, was my brother. I rushed toward him and fumbled with the chains, but he kicked me away forcefully.

"It's a trap, you've got to get out," he grunted, but I shook my head. I wouldn't let him die here by himself, without trying to save him. I persisted in helping him, and though he tried to kick at me once again, his thrashing was weaker this time. I wrapped my hands around the chains and pulled on them until my skin rubbed raw, but there was no breaking the chains with my bare hands. I dropped them and rubbed my raw, blistered hands together, out of breath and red in the face. Suddenly, a barrage of glass breaking and footsteps make my heart sink.

Ten black-suited, bearded men wearing hats burst into the room, crunching shards of glass and wielding enormous guns of some kind.

"Where is the rest of the money?" The first growled, stepping toward me.

I stepped toward him. "You have all of it," I challenged, throwing my hand on the blade handle settled in the bottom of my pocket.

"Liar," the man sneered, pushing the black barrel of his gun in my face. I stared into the narrow abyss with narrow eyes.

"Let my brother go," I said, without looking away from the nose of the gun. The man smiled and motioned to his accomplices wi a flick of the wrist. They scattered from the room, and the man continued to smile. Wordlessly, he spun around and ran toward the back of the house by the window, where I'd entered moments before.

A jet of heat blasted from all corners of the house, and tongues of flame licked into the broad, open space. A series of explosions rocked the house, and the chains binding my brother to the wooden cross clanked violently. The backing cracked, and my brother sagged nearer to the floor, nearly able to stand on his own.

Heat poured into the house through the walls and floor, and I could feel it melting the bases of my shoes. Flames had already angrily devoured the back half of the house, and the plank floor was beginning to splinter and buckle beneath me. It groaned in agony as it struggled to support us, and the cross broke away from the wall, and a sickening crunch sounded, like trees being snapped in two like toothpicks.

My stomach sank and my brother and I, along with the entire house, went hurtling toward the sea. The reek of salt and brine filled my nose, and ruddy grey water flooded the room. Te flames fizzled away and the sea water choked the smoke out. I opened my eyes, and I could see my brother's outline, struggling against the chains. The cross had broken away from the wall, but he was still hopelessly bound to it.

I swam to him, my lungs already burning with the desire for air. He kicked at me again and again, and wouldn't open his eyes. I grit my teeth and wrapped my hands around the arms of the cross tightly, and propelled myself across the room by pushing my legs against the wall. i swam desperately toward the front hall, my muscles swelling from the adrenaline. Suddenly, the cross was too heavy to move. My heart sank and my chest grew tight. I pulled and pulled, but it wouldn't move. I was lodged in the narrow, wooden doorway and refused to budge. I pushed and pulled, trying to wedge it through the doorway and reach the surface, but my brother craned his neck, and turned to look at me,

"Go, go," he mouthed, tiny bubbles escaping his throat, "you can't save me, go." My heart wrenched and I felt sick to my stomach. My hands released their grip on the cross uneasily and I watched it float deeper into the house. My brother's head hung low against the cross, and my mouth opened in horror, a lungful of bubbles escaped, floating to the roof. Pressure pulled down on me as the house sank further, and darkness was beginning to overcome me.

The cross faded into darkness and I turned around, kicking into the front door, which was closed tight. I pulled on the doorknob desperately, but I couldn't push the door open due to the pressure. Moe air escaped my lungs and I gasped. Cold water flooded my lungs, and the green grey murky water washing over the rotted, smoky boards began to blur into a dark mess as white hot pain exploded in my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and soon enough I began to let go. I released the doorknob and succumbed to the dark, airy feeling pulling at my limbs.