The Theater of Emerald Tears

Chapter Six

He\'d had this dream before. There was green carpet down center of the isle, and green velvet on the seats. Not just any green either, a deep emerald green, like the city of emeralds from a book he\'d read. In the dream, he sat down, holding a paper container of warm popcorn and watched the movie flicker to life on the screen. This was his theater. He came here in his mind when his heart was sad. Sometimes he came here in his dreams. It was his Theater of Emerald Tears.

On the screen he saw a dark haired man standing on a city corner, in a neat suit, new fedora hat held to his head with one hand. He knew this man and he thought, there shouldn’t be a sad movie one here, not his Emerald Theater, but the man on the screen turned to face him, eyes shining with tears. It wasn\'t a talkie, but an older movie and the man\'s words appeared under him, \"Sunny! Where are you? I\'m looking for you! I didn\'t tell you that I love you!\"

Sunny sniffed. It was such a sad movie! The dream broke so suddenly and he blinked, confused by the smell of engine oil and rusting iron, by the hard surface under his back and the darkness around him. His head spun as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Serrated breaths, jagged and small rasped at his chest from the inside and echoed against rusting engine next to him.

He remembered nothing clearly, but he\'d woken at …. At someone\'s house, his wife maybe. His right arm responded with a burst of white agony when he tried to move it and he wished it was someone else he heard whimper. Licking shivering lips, he explored his shoulder, the epicenter of the pain, with his other hand. There was a hole in his shirt, some bandages under that. He\'d been shot.

He remembered being in a big white bed. But then he didn\'t understand why he was crying. It felt like part of the movie of his life was gone, fragments of the reel left lying around the floor with the scent of burning celluloid in the air. There was a man with dark eyes and his name was Valentino. No. That wasn\'t it. Valentino was only black and white. The man with dark eyes had warm gentle fingers and, then Sunny\'s memory ran in a huge burning hole when he thought about where those fingers had touched him.

He hurt all over, worse in some places than others though. This was the point in the movie where the girl throw herself from the castle wall and the dark eyed man avenged her tragic death. For once in his life, Sunny didn\'t want his life to be like the movies. Salt from ignored tears stung a busted lip, and he slowly shifted up onto his knees. His shoulder hurt nearly as badly as somewhere else.

In Sunny\'s pain-narrowed world, there were three kinds of people, accountants, Bad Guys, and Good Guys. He was obviously not a Bad Guy, as Bad Guys were mean, and he didn\'t feel mean. Accountants were small people that no one really paid any attention too. So therefore, he must be a Good Guy. He very vaguely remembered hearing a girl say he was a \'copper\'. That must be true. The man he remembered, with dark eyes, who tasted … tasted some delicious way in the kiss that Sunny remembered, he, Sunny decided, must be Sunny\'s partner. Which meant that he would be looking for him, and that the police would find him soon.

Only, what if they didn\'t find him. He had the sudden horrifying idea that they might search the ship and not find him. They would be looking… he just had to make sure they found him.

\"What you doing,\" Mi Ying hissed, \"No bleeding more!\"

He looked up and found three Asian girls watching him, all wearing the same black men\'s work shirt and two pig tails. He blinked then there was only one. \"We have to find a way to tell them where we are? Where are we?\"

\"You speak English! Why you speak Japanese before?\" She knelt down in front of him and began checking his shoulder. It really was a very small place that he\'d woken up in. \"We are Japan?\"

\"New York,\" he said, wincing as she touched the bandaged bullet hole. \"Who are you? Where are we?\"

\"I Mi Ying. I go Colorado Springs. Meet Joseph. We are on a ship. Soon, pirates will go off ship. Manna will help us then.\"

\"Manna? Pirates?\" Of course there were pirates. He was a police officer and he was saving this girl and his partner was, well, very special to him, and he was going to defeat the pirates. \"I\'ll protect you.\"

The side of her nose twitched, just slightly. \"You very high fever, very sick two days. You broken,\" she paused and touched his side where he\'d been shot, just very slightly. \"Here.\"

His eyes crossed and he didn\'t hear her last word, but he was sure he was broken there, ribs, broken. \"Oh God,\" he whispered. \"Jimmy, my partner, he\'s gonna be looking for me.\"

She nodded, eyes narrowed. \"Wait here. I get box. We go.\"

But Sunny didn\'t want to wait. He wanted to defeat the pirates and to rescue the girl so that Jimmy would know he was a powerful man, someone to be respected. \"I\'m coming with you. You shouldn\'t go alone on a pirate ship by yourself.\"
One dark eyebrow arched up and her nose twitched again. \"You walk?\"

\"Of course, I can walk!\" Sunny said, highly insulted. His head was already spinning. If it hadn\'t felt so much like it was floating, he might have registered the headache under the surface. \"I can walk. At least I can stand guard or something. Where\'s my gun?\"

\"Gun not included,\" she said, looking at him highly doubtfully.

\"We\'ll find one then,\" he insisted. Getting to his feet wasn\'t easy and it used every ounce of strength and delusional pride he had. For a moment, or two, he wasn\'t sure he was going to be able to walk like he\'d said, let alone shoot a gun if they found one. That was one part of his memory that hadn\'t filled itself back in. When he imagined a gun in his hand, all he remembered was moving beads on an abacus, but that didn\'t really makes sense.

Walking turned out to be more of a challenge than standing up had been, but Mi Ying didn\'t seem inclined to leave him behind. The ribs and the shoulder made sense, the pain from those was almost manly in a way. It was the pain in his belly, his hips, that he didn\'t understand. It hurt to walk, to breath, and when Mi Ying grabbed him and pulled him behind some boxes, he got a flashback of rough fingers entwined in his hair, a fist hitting his lower back. The flashback lasted, held him like darkness held the underside of the ship, smothering black despair. He was going to die.

\"Sony, Sony,\" she whispered, patting his cheek lightly. \"Pirate not hurting you now, Sony!\"

He shook when his eyes opened. Just Mi Ying. The other was a clip from a bad movie. \"I\'m going to have a theater someday, and it\'s going to be called Emerald Tears Theater.\"

She blinked, and he understood that she hadn\'t understood what he\'d said, which was all right, he thought. She touched his cheek again. \"You wait. You sick, big fever.\"

He sank gently down to his knees, leaning against a stack of crates. It didn\'t matter. If Jimmy found him, he\'d just know how utterly worthless Sunny was. \"Okay Dokie.\"

\"What mean?\"

\"I wait.\" He said, leaning his head against the crate of boxes. Once he\'d read about a god of death, a Shi ni gami. He wondered if it would be real when it came for him or just a movie like the rest of his life. \"I\'ll wait. It wouldn\'t be long.\"

\"I back,\" she nodded, approving in a very sensible way.

When he opened his eyes again she was gone. If he took very small breaths, he could pretend that he didn\'t hurt. He could pretend that Jimmy\'s fingers were touching his lips, caressing, that Jimmy\'s voice was saying that he loved him. Then he blinked. Did Jimmy love him? Had Jimmy loved him before, before, and his mind stuttered, refusing to go up directly against the next concept, before he got hurt? Jimmy had and Sunny believed him.

It was so much easier in Sunny\'s favorite movies, but then, Sunny wasn\'t a girl and neither was Jimmy. So somethings were different than the movies. Sunny carefully took a deeper breath. He wasn\'t a cop. He could hear his own words as he talked to Jimmy\'s housekeeper, \"I\'m an accountant!\"

His eyes narrowed. Anger. He was Jimmy Caravello\'s accountant. No one had the right to touch him like that, like … the pirate had.

\"Ya stupid Chinese bitch!\" A rough voice growled and was followed by a string of Chinese that Sunny didn\'t need to know to understand.

\"Where\'s yer little boyfriend? He has to be down here somewhere? After the way that Frenchmen screwed him I\'m surprised you got much use out of him, but you Chinese are perverted little babies. Where is he?\" the man snarled, accent what Sunny thought was maybe British. A crewman, maybe?

Mi Ying yelled back in Chinese. Her struggles weren\'t loud, but Sunny could imagine it so clearly. Heavy footfalls from the crewman with solid boots on, and Mi Ying clinging to the metal stairs with one hand, his hand around her arm. Sunny told himself to get to his feet, to demand that this oaf release her… but this wasn\'t a movie and he was just an accountant, an accountant with a fever.

As quietly as he could, he worked at a loose slat on the crate on the bottom. Strength was a skill he\'d forgotten. Their steps grew louder and finally it gave way. Two bottles, that\'s what he needed and he was grateful to the Shi Ni Gami that didn\'t come get him that they were round. Holding his breath, tongue between his teeth, he set one on the floor, blocking its movement as the ship swayed ever so slightly between one knee and the crate. The other he held with one hand a wil willed himself to his feet. Timing was everything and it was all about making sure the numbers fit.

He hoped that when his fever went down, his mind wouldn\'t be so much like trying to think in a kaleidoscope. He moved to the other side of the crate, nudged the bottle of the floor so it rolled towards the isle that Mi Ying and Heavy Boots would be coming down.

Time spun around and all Sunny could say was that he was still standing when the man dragged Mi Ying passed him and that he laid the bottle of whatever it was solidly across the back of the man\'s head. The man went down, dragging Mi Ying with him. Sunny thought he ought to have hit him again. The bottle didn\'t even break, but he just stood there, bottle in hand, wanting to move and not getting any response from his body.

He blinked again and Mi Ying had him by either arm, smiling brightly. \"Hero!\" she chirped.

Sunny dropped the bottle, which broke against the metal floor. Voice slurring, he whispered, \"I\'m just an accountant.\"

The next time he blinked, he didn\'t really manage to come completely conscious. Stronger arms than Mi Ying\'s were holding him, carrying him up out of the hold. He wouldn\'t have understood the Chinese being spoken anyway.

Mi Ying understood it though. \"You\'re sure? He\'s an indentured servant?\"

\"Yes, to one of the most powerful gangsters in New York. Since the boy was fifteen, my cousin told me.\"

\"Then I will take him with me to Colorado Springs. He should be free. He has a very good and strong heart.\"

\"If he lives that long,\" Manna said.

\"Well, then he will die a free man. Everyone deserves that!\"