Leo's Hands

The contact

The contact

Suddenly Steve’s expression became sad and I found out to be really sorry about it, a few times I had seen him so bitter. While the tape of the voicemail kept scrolling bringing him trivial messages, he took his wallet from the pocket of his trousers. He pulled out a picture and a few letters all crumpled, he looked at the picture in silence for a few instants and then looked through the letters quickly because now he knew them by memory. He smelled them deeply, then he crumpled them up and was about to throw them away but he didn’t. He made his way to the cabinet of the living room, inserted a key in the keyhole of a drawer and he opened it. I had baptised it between myself “the drawer of the missed occasions” because it was full of pictures, letters, key rings, smelling, musical and glowing puppets, cinema and disco tickets, postcards, stuffed animals and various gadgets. With a sigh he threw the pictures and the letters in it, then he closed it back with an angry push and in that exact moment the scary awareness of what was waiting for me made its way in my body: at least two hours of exasperated breakdown, with also a synthesis of all the sentimental stories, never begun or died at the start, of the last twenty-nine years of his life... i.e. since he was eight to now. The funny thing was that almost all the women of the Police District had a crush on him, but he, as busy as he was with work, didn’t even notice. If instead of thinking always and only about his duty, he looked a bit around him, he would’ve surely found a girlfriend in less than five minutes.

I found a more comfortable position to prepare myself for that torture and I tried to look attentive and participant, in the end it was about my mate and I didn’t mean to let him down as well!

«Is it possible that since the first time when...» he had just started saying walking back and forth around the living room, when he stopped.

He ran to the voicemail, that in the meantime had kept listing off messages on messages, he rewound the last track and made it start again.

«There we are, the guy I told you about is willing to collaborate but he wants a lot of money. The appointment is tonight at nine at the old industrial area, in front of the only vacant warehouse. Try to be on time and most importantly come alone and unarmed, or else he takes flight and we’ll never track him down anymore» a raspy voice was saying, and I thanked it with all of me because it saved me from a proper torture. Steve checked the clock on the wall and jumped, he went to the coat rack and took his raincoat, that in the meantime had made a puddle of water on the floor, then he turned to look at me serious. “Damn it, the whole world is plotting against me: no cartoons and no nap!” I told myself disappointed, I jumped off the couch and followed him reluctantly.