Clouds of smoke wafted towards the ceiling and dancers whirled around, their sequins and necklaces a danger to any who stood too close. Drinks were spilled and punches were thrown about like salt on an icy sidewalk; nothing out of the ordinary. But just as the young dewdroppers picked themselves up to order yet another round, the door to the run down old shack flew open and slammed into the grime-laden wall. Silence fell instantaneously over the crowd as the rhythmic clicking of high heels echoed in their ears. The clicking halted and standing in the doorway was a young woman of only twenty-two. Her face was heart-shaped and her complexion the color of pure snow. Her voluminous lips the color of crimson contrasted her one-of-a-kind complexion perfectly. She stood in the doorway for a few seconds taking in the scents of financial-crisis and heartbreak. Mmmm, just the way I like it she thought as a grin that could curdle milk spread across her face. Then, just as suddenly as the silence had begun, it ended and the room erupted in loud cackles as this new-comer made her way around the room stroking all of the gentleman's cheeks and exchanging snippets of gossip with the ladies. Alice was the life of the party. In fact she wasthe party. Her flirtatious nature and nonchalant “see you when I see you” attitude drew the attention of the gentlemen, while her “you don’t need him, he needs you” side appealed to the ladies. There was no one else like her; you gave her a job, she would see it through. That quality must have been what triggered her sudden jump to the life of crime. She’d bump off anyone regardless of emotional connection or social position. Although it was true that she would take just about any job, her guilty pleasures were those “dark and stormy night” jobs where she would get to knock off a big time business executive that was causing trouble for the Boss. But for now, she was back home; home was the grubby speakeasy that housed her friends and fellow conspirators. There was Jimmy, the shy one of the group with one heck of an eye for weapons. There was Martha, who shot straighter than a bird could fly. And of course there was Joe, all the “incentive” most of the hostages required. (In case you couldn’t tell, he was pretty hard-boiled). Anyways, Alice was the leader of this group of misfits. Most had come from money and stable jobs but their luck abandoned them after their investments in stocks took a turn for the worst. Now they were living off of “blood-money” as Alice liked to call it. They would knock off a couple of Joe-Schmoes and then report back to receive their pay. Life was good; it was easy. Or so it appeared to be to everyone who knew Alice and especially to those who worked jobs with her. This gun-slinging leader was not who she appeared to be though…Seating herself on a nearby worn wooden stool, she motioned for Jimmy to come sit by her. Jimmy reluctantly complied brushing off glowing embers that had latched onto him from the many other patrons’ cigars. Once Jimmy had taken a seat Alice leaned in close to him and began the briefing.
“Listen up close Jimmy, I ain’t got time to explain this twice. So we’re hittin’ a real big man tonight; in both respects. The guys loaded and he’s a boulder, no way we can miss. I’m gonna need a breezer and two of the biggest pieces you got alright?”
“Alright, I’ll see what I can do for you.”
He replied in a raspy voice as he moved his greasy bangs aside. Alice then got to her feet and returned to the group of ladies she had been gossiping with.
“So Ally,” A flapper addressed Alice, her face caked in makeup. “Any gentlemen callers on the mind honey?”
Alice cringed at the women's question and replied with a curt, “Don’t stick your nose where it shouldn’t be honey,” her voice dripping with venom.
The flapper’s friends ushered her away as Alice looked on with delight, even adding a fond wave as they departed. Joe came up behind Alice with a smirk spreading across his face.
“Making friends I see.” Laughing to conceal his surprise at her attitude. Sure she could be pretty harsh at times, but this wasn’t the Alice he knew.
“Back off Joe, you know how I feel about these incessant saps…They care for nothing but the latest fashions and rich city boys. Foolish every single one of them.”
She then walked hurriedly towards the door to wait on Jimmy. Just as her bright red pumps made contact with the dry cracking dirt beneath her a jet black convertible sped towards her. Good he’s here she thought as she made her way into the passenger side of the car. Without a word, Jimmy placed a freshly cleaned and loaded colt on her lap. She picked up the gun and pulled back on the hammer, a satisfying ‘click’ making the argument she had had with the flapper seem a distant memory. Jimmy drove with increasing speed to the address that was handed down, indirectly of course, from the Boss.
“‘Here we are” He announced smugly.
“Yeah I got that Jimmy, I ain’t slow” Alice replied jokingly as she exited the car.
The building was nothing special. It appeared to be an abandoned warehouse and closer inspection revealed numerous paint chips and several health code violations. Alice lengthened her stride eager to get the job over with. She heard the crunch of glass under a heavy foot and quickly slammed her body into the side of the building, propping her gun up and peering into the small window on the door. Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open with her fingertips, not wanting to blow the cover she relied so heavily on. The interior of the building harbored just as many various patches of mold and other such growths as the outside and to make matters worse, the air hung heavy with moisture from years of neglect. Climbing up an abandoned set of stairs Alice surveyed the area. Hearing footsteps below she quickly sank to her knees and craned her neck to get a good look at the target. Okay one quick look is all I need and then I- her thought was cut short and her gun fell to the ground with a loud clang. Standing before her protecting her designated target, was the one thing that could render her useless. It’s John. John is here. John is lifting his gun and catching me in the crossfires. A gunshot interrupted the silence and Alice quickly snapped out of her stupor. John knew she had been there and he still fired. She bolted towards the door and bit her lip to stop it from quivering. With the mission still not complete, Alice threw herself into the car and told Jimmy to drive. After many minutes of silence, the two arrived back at the speakeasy and Alice jogged to the back, stepping on countless feet and spilling even more drinks. After slamming the door to her makeshift ‘office’ she let her tears flow freely and picked up a picture on her desk of a very comely man with jet-black hair slicked back perfectly. Covering her mouth with a quivering hand, Alice turned the picture over and read the small caption written in a very formal scrawl, “Cash or Check?-John.”
1920’s Slang
Dewdropper- A young man who sleeps all day and doesn't have a job
Bump off- To murder,to kill
Speakeasy- An illicit bar selling bootleg liquor
Hard-boiled- A tough, strong guy
Breezer- A convertible car
Piece- A gun
Flapper- A stylish, brash, hedonistic young woman with short skirts & shorter hair
Cash or Check?- Shall we kiss now or later?
*Cover photo credit to kndrwllmsn on Deviantart. I do not own the photo in any way. All rights reside with the model, kndrwllmsn, and the photographer.
http://www.deviantart.com/art/Romance-Narrative-Stock-VIII-271926013
