The Handkerchief Part II
"Why hello there handsome. I wouldn't mind your arms around me again.”
Amare woke sweating. It has been a while since he had dreamed of the night of the attack on the waitress. He knew then that she was messing with him to get what she wanted. He pitied her in that moment. His own mother did that with the men she tried to seduce for money.
Blaze was snoring which would not help Amare fall back to sleep. Instead he got up looking for one of the books that he wrote in. He wrote all his thoughts that were never said in this book. It was a secret from Blaze and the guards. Amare’s confessions were in this book. Guilt racked him since that night. She was so beautiful. She reminded him of a scared doe with her big brown eyes staring at him. Her brown hair, dirty from the chase, stuck to her face running down over her cleavage. He shook his head as his thoughts wandered. He turned to the confession about that night.
She needed help. Will helping her atone for his sins? Leaving her alone with…. That was the worst part.
He hasn’t spoken to him since he has been arrested. They started drifting after that night. Amare owed the man so much, but as Amare got older, the lines became hazier. The man still never told Amare his name. Amare knew he was being trained for this purpose. The old man never stayed in one spot and never told Amare anything. Except…
Amare knew then how he could help her, but the problem was he would never leave prison.
Tomorrow, she came back. Her brown hair cut short sit the attack with bangs she pushed to the side when nervous. Amare sat in the same spot as yesterday, but this time holding his book. He was nervous.
“My name is…” she starts. He holds his hand up. “I don’t want to know. This will help you. I don’t know his name or where he is. However, this is a detailed account of all the jobs he took me on. Take this, it should help.”
She puts her hand on the book timidly pulling it toward her. Her brown eyes looked up at him with that same look in the woods. It wounded him seeing her that way. “Riley,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked thinking that she knew the old man’s name.
“My name,” she said with a timid smile. She pushed the book back looking the guard.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Hold on to that.” Riley got up tossing her hair over her shoulder.
The guard escorted her out as Amare sat there watching her leave. He picked the book up confused leaving. One of the other prisoner’s stopped him. “Is that your girl?” Sam asked. Amare just gave him a blank look leaving.
Back in his cell, Amare stared at the book. She did not realize what she turned down. It had everything! Blaze came in followed by the stench of piss.
Blaze tossed something at Amare, but missed. Amare looked up to find his handkerchief on the ground. Amare gave him a confused look.
Blaze’s mouth twitched with a smile. “You don’t talk, but you spoke with her. Riley.” The way Blaze said her name made Amare want to punch him.
Amare just stared back trying to hide his emotions. Yet, Blaze knew the effect he was having on his roommate.
“The book or the girl. Neither can exist at the same time,” Blaze said. This time Amare did not hold back. He grabbed Blaze by the neck smashing him to the wall. This only made Blaze smile.
“Just the messenger dude.”
Amare released him knowing what happened. Sam. Sam must have outside contacts or knows someone with outside contacts that spoke with the old man. The old man was smart. He knew that Amare knew too much, but was not bailing him out this time.
Amare stood over the body with so much guilt. The man was just trying to buy cigarettes, but Amare’s anger got the best of him. Red and blue lights filled the convenient store. The old man stood there watching Amare. “We need to go now, Mar.” Amare still did not move. He bent down checking the guy’s pulse. He was still alive. With a breath of relief he looked at the old man, he was done. This was the last straw. First the waitress and now an innocent shopper, this had to end. The old man lifted his head in recognition over the new resolve over Amare. “You go to jail, you are on your own. I’m not busting you out and I’m not protecting you. This time it’s on you.” Amare knew he was right. This was the first act that he truly done that was his decision. The old man did not order this from him.
Amare nodded in agreement. The old man looked at the windows noting that the lights were getting brighter and the sound of sirens louder. “Remember what I taught you when you were younger. Silence is golden.”
Amare picked up the handkerchief noting the blood on it. It could be anyone’s blood, but he knew it was her’s. This time Amare knew the old man messed up. He picked up his book and left the cell leaving Blaze behind. Amare was going to set this right. He deserved this, but Riley did not.
He will make things right.
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” Elie Wiesel
It has been four years since I have written the first part of Handkerchief. Honestly, I forgot this story.
Visiting it again and with all my hints in there, it helped me pick the story back up where I left off.
There will be one more part after this and then it will be finished.
Highlights in Inspiration
1. I made everyone ambiguous in race except for the Amare and Riley. Their descriptions are given in Red Deer.
2. It was hard writing the story from Amare's point of view and keep "The Man" anonymous. That is important to me is that he is not given a name.
3. These stories are following many themes that originally I did not intend, which is why I am happy I picked this up four years later. Victim blaming and the #MeToo movement has generated so much attention. I did not realize that theme was developing in this story. This story is not just victim blaming for Riley, but Amare does it to himself as well.
4. The story began to drift for me because I was following Amare, his thoughts. I had to write from Riley's perspective to give clear direction of how the end will tie in with Bittersweet News.
Part III will be ready next Friday! I promise. :)
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I like writing short stories on here. Sharing them with the community. I also love getting responses.
I took a break to write something lengthier, but now I want to get back into generating a short story published every Friday.
To challenge me, I really would like suggestions in the comments! Until then, I am going to keep testing the limit like I am doing with Handkerchief and not using angels to inspire.
What type of stories do you like to read?
© 2018 HL Keeley