SAINT & SINNERS... A SNIPPET OF CHAPTER ONE..

November 28, 1991

“Come on, come on – Move, God damn it, move!!’ David yelled, pressing aggressively on the accelerator. The car engine roared back at him with deep, raspy revs that echoed harshly through the sombre Quiet of the morning. He kept glancing anxiously. He kept glancing anxiously in the rear – view mirror, to ensure he wasn’t being followed. Although there were no cars behind him, and the road had been deserted the entire morning, it took him a while still to convince himself that he was, for the Time being at least, safe and alone.

He slowly eased off the petrol pedal, finally realizing that there was no point in pushing the car any further. His old Chevrolet was already struggling to recover the remaining kilometres, and the real challenge seemed to only just be starting: he was already late, and the car, in its current state, promised more likely an early end to his journey than the miraculous swift outcome which he desperately needed at that moment.

He looked over to his right – at the thick leather bag resting on the passenger seat: his one – way ticket to a better life, he thought, gazing at it absentmindedly; fearfully almost, as he tried at the same time to convince himself that all of this wrongdoing he’d committed would have had a justifiable, and somehow pardonable motive, in the end.

He turned his gaze back to the unknown road ahead. He swallowed hard, struggling. His mouth was becoming increasingly dry, and an unfamiliar pressure in his chest was hindering his breathing. He felt nauseous. He was scared. And he desperately hoped that the young man who got shot, just moments earlier, would still make it after all….

Then he hoped that Tiny would still pay him anyway, even if he would arrive much later than they had agreed, at the appointed time and address. But more than anything, he wished that all of this ordeal he had been through, in the last half hour, would eventually come to an end – so he could finally resume the normal, boring course of his pathetic life!

A Day Earlier!

David’s morning began in the same overwhelming inertia he had recently resigned himself to. The outside cold intrusively entered the bedroom thought the window, creeping insidiously under the blanket he was tightly wrapped up in. Despite the window being shut, the cool autumn wind would always find its way, somehow, though the worn out wooden hinges, and manage to disrupt his sleep.

He reluctantly opened his eyes and was instantly struck by a horrendous throbbing headache. He began to recall, in sparse fragments, the events from the previous evening, a small after – work party with his construction site colleagues; in a dingy tavern whose obscure location he now struggled to remember.

Peering out the window form under the blanket, his eyes half – opened, the outside fog and the heavy clouds hovering over the city maliciously tempted him to stay in bed, to sleep a while longer. At least another hour! He thought…. Then he would be ready to get up and go to work, as if the numerous glasses of strong alcohol and beer he had consumed the previous evening had never seeped into his fatigue – ridden body.

Then he heard the familiar noises from the kitchen; his mother’s hurried footsteps, rustling on the hallway carpet, moving rapidly from one room to another, waking everyone up. She hadn’t entered his room this Time. Maybe she didn’t want to disturb him? She knew he’d been working a lot lately, until late in the evenings. Or maybe she heard him slamming the front door, when he finally got home that morning, close to dawn. In which case, either she was upset and didn’t want to see him, or she thought he was still tired – and allowed him a few more well – deserved minutes of sleep.

He got out of bed with difficulty, still gravely hungover. He yawned for a long while. Stretched and scratched his crotch. Then he opened the window to let some fresh air in. From the tenth floor of the tall apartment building, he could see the entire neighbourhood, everything was grey and bleak, after a full night of steady rain. The giant cement blocks, some taller, some shorter, covered everything in sight- spreading like a concrete jungle and encompassing most of the city.

He slowly opened the bedroom door, trying his best to control its infernal creaking that would always echo throughout the house. Then he carefully sneaked towards the bathroom and locked himself inside. He turned on the water tap and waited for a few moments – hoping that the dry, infernal gurgling which echoed through the building’s pipes would finally turn into water. Instead, the broken faucet immediately spurted out a disgusting, foul – smelling liquid. He turned the water down slowly and waited for it to clear up – all the while examining his swollen face and deep, sand – bagged eyes in the mirror. He checked his right hand – swollen and bruised. He tried to clench his fingers into a fist, but the pain was much too hard to bear. He couldn’t remember whose jaw he’d dislocated the night before, but he sure hoped it was worth the inconvenience which he now had to endure….