Red Right HandA Story by Lonely IslanderWhat do you do when you have to kill the man who taught you everything?Red Right Hand ‘Is that
you, Alejandro?’ The gravel voice asked
from inside, as the sound of boots against the wooden floors became louder. ‘You are
awfully late,’ his voice rumbled again in the empty room, echoing from the
walls. Alejandro
made his way into the room, beads of perspiration tricking down the side of his
face, his neck, and into his shirt that was already drenched. But he was no
Eskimo to be bothered by the scorching sun that just loved to show off his
power in a torturing way, just like the blind man sitting on the chair beside
the table. He was a hot-blooded Mexican. ‘We got
into a fight before I,’ Alejandro paused as he put the gun on the table and
with a sigh, said, ‘finished him.’ ‘Do I
sense some guilt, boy,’ the old man, Antonio, chuckled from his seat, his eyes,
somehow, following Alejandro as he made his way to the little wooden table with
a few cutleries, and a half-used packet
of coffee. Alejandro
remained silent for a few moments, trying with all his might to suppress the
waves of pain and guilt that crashed against his heart, before he slowly opened
his mouth to whisper, ‘He was my master.’ He managed to choke out as he
endeavored to get the image of his master, lying lifeless in a pool of blood,
out of his mind. Antonio
breathed out a long breath, his nostrils flaring like they always did when he
breathed. ‘He is not your master. I am.’ ‘That’s
why I killed him,’ Alejandro replied, as he slowly poured the hot water into
the porcelain cup. ‘Is that
coffee you are making? I thought we ran out of sugar,’ the man asked, his
wrinkly scarred fingers now tracing the gun on the table. ‘That’s
why I bought us some,’ Alejandro replied, ripping up the little white packet,
to pour the refined white powder, which made a slow hiss as it slid into the
cup. Loud clanks filled the room as he began to stir the mixture, making sure
all of the powder dissolved. ‘I am
actually quite surprised you call him your master. I’m the one that taught you
how to hold a gun. I taught you the way to master the art of killing. I’m proud
to say that you’ve grown up to be like me. And now since I can’t carry out my
job, you’re doing it for me. You’re like my right hand,’ Antonio said in his
calm, voice as he sipped through his coffee. ‘Is that
all I am to you, Dad, your right hand?’ Alejandro gritted through his teeth as
the tears which had hidden all those years slowly trickled down his face. ‘Alejandro…’
Antonio choked out as his lens shivered in his wide eyes, and the blood tricked
down from his mouth. ‘You
know what Dad, you taught me everything except one little moral.’ he brought
his face closer to his father’s as he slowly whispered in his ears, ‘Never
betray a blind man.’ Alejandro
walked out of the room, his father’s blood in his hands as he heard a loud thud
in the back, his old man collapsing on the floor after being poisoned by his
son, or apparently, his right hand. © 2012 Lonely IslanderAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5
Compartment 114
Compartment 114 StatsAuthorLonely IslanderWonderlandAboutHey guys,this is my other account. I closed my previous account (Hidden Happiness) and opened this one so it might have some of the writings from that account. Writing means a lot to me, more than I .. more..Writing
|