Looking out across the bright lights of Rush Street from my hi-rise apartment, a small token of the mob's appreciation, I couldn't help but admire the full moon's reflection over the bars and restaurants. I glanced over to my bed where the beautiful girl's exquisite body was nuzzled under the sumptuous layers of the white fur spread rising up and down ever so softly. My two revolvers were close by on the nightstand. I stood quietly, sipping my Jack and coke, but anxiously thinking about my day's events. I knew that soon she would open those gorgeous eyes, which would beckon me to satisfy her for several more hours. @$%#!#@ is the only mind release I seem to have. Just another chick on another day. Otherwise, my head would see the blood, hear the blasts and I would be running-always running. The huey would be waiting. Now I can turn the click off to another program. I am chasing them, looking for whoever it is they tell me to have a "talk with". I should have turned the !@$#@!! phone off-that relentless ring puts me in a pissy mood. The lovely beauty stirs and I want her to enjoy her peace, if only I could do the same. I know if I pick up the receiver, my night is over. It's Ed either crying or scared. I will have to either console him or go protect him. My mentor. My boss. My escape from running into the dark night inside my head.
He is sobbing like a terrorized child, who has been tormented by the school bully. Ed, whose brilliance in his political office becomes a parody when he goes home to his "husband, Ray". Considering what I had experienced in my life up until this point, even hearing their salacious secret, though total taboo in the 70's, didn't make me blink. After all, if the government condoned the killing of innocent women and children from the open door in the huey, who was I to look down on Ed and Ray. Their marriage was no "big deal" to me. Why should it bother anyone. Especially, when my former boss, Hoover himself was into the same. But, of course, that's different--right? I mean if the people that run the FBI can do whatever they want why should I care about what those two do in private. But, I am paid to care. I am paid to protect. I'm also paid to walk the dogs, take out the laundry, and every other petty thing that the boys want. But mostly I'm paid to make their enemies quiet. That is why I picked up that damn phone, reticently put on my guns, leaving this beauty lying in peace., a peace that I will never know.
Their luxurious penthouse is only a few minutes away, so I don't have that much time to collect my thoughts. Ray must have either done some of his cigarette burn tricks on Ed's body, or he was threatening to go to the press again. I will never understand why anyone would stay in an abusive relationship. I could never fathom why my mother took my old man's abuse. He was just like Ray. Perhaps, that is why fate brought me to protect Ed. Not from the world outside, who would treat them like lepers, if they knew about the gay marriage, but from each other. Ed was a gentle soul, but Ray had no boundaries . But one day it would be his demise, like the Roman empire. Too much hedonism takes its toll.
He is sobbing like a terrorized child, who has been tormented by the school bully. Ed, whose brilliance in his political office becomes a parody when he goes home to his "husband, Ray". Considering what I had experienced in my life up until this point, even hearing their salacious secret, though total taboo in the 70's, didn't make me blink. After all, if the government condoned the killing of innocent women and children from the open door in the huey, who was I to look down on Ed and Ray. Their marriage was no "big deal" to me. Why should it bother anyone. Especially, when my former boss, Hoover himself was into the same. But, of course, that's different--right? I mean if the people that run the FBI can do whatever they want why should I care about what those two do in private. But, I am paid to care. I am paid to protect. I'm also paid to walk the dogs, take out the laundry, and every other petty thing that the boys want. But mostly I'm paid to make their enemies quiet. That is why I picked up that damn phone, reticently put on my guns, leaving this beauty lying in peace., a peace that I will never know.
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