Arc 1 - That Horrible Smile

When she woke up the next morning, Adam was already gone. Apparently, even the excessive drinking last night wasn't enough to disturb his daily rituals. It was a weekend, so Colette lay in bed relaxing for a while, enjoying the sunlight tickling her body with warmth. Then she got up and started on her homework.

There wasn't much to do in the cramped apartment, so after she was done, she went to Sarah's for the afternoon, and by she got back Adam was already there, lounging by the couch, bringing the day back full circle.

Adam hadn't changed his clothes from the previous night, and he still smelled faintly of alcohol. Not for the first time, Colette found herself wondering just what he did during the day. Of course, he'd clammed up when she asked him, like everything else relating to his personal life. Maybe it was this mysteriousness of his, this sense of danger and the adventurous unknown, that beckoned her to the bar with him every night.

'You're going now?' She asked.

He nodded. 'You do know that you don't have to stalk me everywhere, don't you?'

'Hey! This is like, the only chance we'll get to spend quality time together!'

'Where'd you learn that from?'

'We're living together, for goodness sake!'

'I envy you sometimes,' Adam forced himself off the couch. 'Whatever. Let's go.'

They left the apartment, and both went down the stairs; Adam thumping, Colette jogging. As they left the building, Colette said, 'Guess what I did at Sarah's today?'

'I don't know.'

'Her father's some sort of politician, you know, and she had all these books around the house, and I read some of them. On the Communism thing.'

'I thought I told you,' Adam said wearily, 'Not to look it up.'

'Well, I'm a rebellious teenage girl, so I can do what I want. Anyway, I read the Communism book, it was by some Russian guy, and I think I can understand some of it, and I want to ask you something.'

'What.' Adam said, his step growing slower.

'Why don't people just do this communism thing all over the world? It gets rid of the poverty and everything. Why do people here hate it so much? I don't really understand.'

'Figure it out,' Adam said, not looking at her. 

'Hey! I'm actually taking an interest in politics here!'

'I envy you sometimes,' Adam said. 'I really do.'

They rounded the corner, and the warmingly familiar shape of the bar came into sight. But there was something wrong. Colette, with the better eyesight, saw it first. 'Why are those policeman standing over there?'

Adam's shoulders slumped. 'Could be a fight'

'An fight?' Colette looked at the bar worriedly. 'You don't think - ?'

As they drew closer, the ring of policeman withdrew from the entrance, and a struggling, swearing Mr Brown entered the fray, his fists bound with handcuffs and his shoulder held firmly in place by a blond police officer.

'You brutes,' he was shouting, 'The f**k you think you're doing, a******s - '

Colette's hand flew to her mouth. Adam walked over the policemen.

 'What's going on?'

'Nothing to see here, sir, just move along.'

'Jones!' Mr Brown's voice whipped at his face. 'Tell them - tell them I'm not a goddamn Communist and never will be,'

The regulars appeared from the doorway, their bloodstreams already filled with dangerously copious amounts of alcohol. 'Get off him, you dirty cop,' one of them roared.

'Get back inside, sir,' the policeman holding Brown said. His shining, blond head had its back to them. 'You don't have to worry.'

'Well I'm bloody worrying, you f*****g toff,' Reeves yelled. 'You got your facts wrong, this guy ain't no commie, not ever - '

'Actually,' one of the regulars hiccuped, 'He might be a Commie. Didja see him talk about the Chinese the other day?'

'He wasn't talking about communism, you ignorant sack of dung,' the man with the big hands said. 'True communism is Marxism, not the nonsense he was sprouting - '

Reeves stood straight up, grabbed the big handed man, and tossed him into the crowd of blue. 'This is your Commie, toffs! Never seen a bloody socialist like this one - '

'You backstabbing fuckery of a f*****g fucktard,' someone else said.

'He's a Commie I tell you! He's the one you want, not Brown - '

'I've never heard such bullshit in my life - '

The entire crowd of regulars resumed their shouting brawl before they even knew it, and resorted to fists more quicker than usual. Several policemen stepped in to control the crowd, and the entrance of the bar became a mass of tangling bodies. Only a few people stood detached from the sea of anarchy that had suddenly crashed down upon them: Adam, Colette, Mr Brown and the young blond policeman holding him.

'Why are you arresting him?' Adam said.

'Because they think I'm a f*****g spy!' Mr Brown spat. 'It's f*****g bullshit - '

'Hush,' the blond policeman said, and dug his fingers into Brown's shoulder blades, as if trying to carve a hole in them. Brown stopped struggling at once. Then the policeman finally turned his face towards them, and he was smiling.

The smile on his face was by no means comforting. Instead of radiating happiness and warmth, or even the slightest trace of triumph or superiority, it seemed to throw away all these things and replace them with a grotesque parody. His smile was eerily hollow, and yet, so very wide.

'What - what the hell are you doing - ' Mr Brown gasped.

'You have the right to remain silent,' the blond policeman smiled at him. 'Anything you say can and will be used in the court of law.'

'Erm...excuse me.'

Davis looked over to see Colette. 'Oh, good evening, mam. Rest assured, this man may be a dangerous criminal, but we are going to take him into custody so don't worry...'

'Erm...' Colette swallowed. 'Mr Brown isn't a spy.'

'Really? Why do you think so?'

'Because...he isn't the sort of person who would spy.'

'Mam, with all due respect, I think you need to shut your f*****g w***e mouth.'

She stared at him in shock. His serene expression hadn't moved.

'Hey,' Adam said. 'What's your problem?'

'I'm terribly sorry,' the policeman said. 'I just can't stand people like her. A permanent vice of mine, I'm afraid.'

'You f****r,' Brown muttered.

'Don't worry, Mr Brown. This will all be over for you soon.'

He marched him to the squad car. His aides had finished beating the drunkards into submission, and were already following after him. They pushed past Adam without barely a glance.

Adam watched them tiredly, and put his hands in his pockets. The car drove off, and the two of them stood alone in the pavement.

Colette was still staring after the car long after it had disappeared from view, her mouth open. Adam nudged her gently, and she closed it.

'What...what happens now?' she whispered.

Adam waited a long time before giving her a reply. 'We drink.'

He headed for the bar, pushing past the stirring mob of regulars. Colette opened her mouth again, and rushed over to him, grasping his arm.

'What're you doing?'

'Drinking.'

'What? You mean...you're just going to act as if nothing's happened?'

'Yeah.'

'What - ' she stared blankly at him. He steered her towards the usual table, and sat her down. The regulars were already streaming back into the bar, complaining about everything in general. A few of them stared at the unattended bottles on the shelf and crawled over the counter to get some.

Adam was already helping himself. He grabbed two bottles and left a few notes in their place; the money was gone in two minutes. Adam went back to his seat, uncorked the bottle, and began drinking.

'So - ' Something in her throat was blocking her from speaking with a straight voice, and she forced it down. 'So you're just going to give up like that?'

Adam remained silent, silently consuming his alcohol. Looking at him, Colette suddenly felt something she hadn't felt for ten years for him - distaste.

She stood up, and Adam immediately put his bottle down. 'Where're you going?'

'To the police station.'

'Colette, stop it.'

'I have to do something! We can't just - '

'They won't listen to you.'

'But - '

'And with you coming to a spy's defense, they'll probably think you're a Communist too - '

'He's not a spy!' Colette snapped. No one heard her. They had already resumed their quarrel, and her shout consumed by their river of angry opinions. She sat back down and put her head on the table.

'And so what if they say I'm a Communist,' she said, 'I'd rather be one anyway.'

'You don't know Communism.'

'Yeah, I don't,' she lifted her head up and glared at him. 'So you tell me. You tell me why everyone hates Communism so much they'd be willing to arrest Mr Brown just like that.'

'Because America hates everything.'

'What! No - '

'America's at the top of the world now, and it has the authority to hate everything else,' Adam reached for his second bottle. 'Just deal with it.'

The sight of his drinking both enraged and drained her. 'I'm going,' she said, with less conviction, and rose from the table. Adam immediately grabbed her arm.

'Don't.'

'You can't tell me what to do! You're drunk!'

'Your father wouldn't want this,' Adam said.

'Don't say that,' Colette said, but his words were slowly having an effect on her. She recalled the blond policeman and his dreadful smile, and the way he had sneered at her, as if she was a dumb sheep pent up in a farm. She knew they wouldn't listen to her, and she didn't want to get shouted at again. As her head cleared, she pouted and sat down again.

'I want to do something,' she said helplessly.

'You can't,' Adam said. He offered her his half-empty bottle. 'Just forget about it.'

'I won't,' Colette shoved the bottle away, 'And I won't be drinking that.'

'Suit yourself.'