September's Staircase [On Hold]

Chapter 31

Awkward was to pleasant of a word to describe my current situation. I had refused to sit at the front seat of Matty's enormous vehicle and in turn he had forced Alec to take my place quote on quote 'to keep the nitty hand f*cker away from me.' They're both stiff as board but somehow Alec still seems to have a collected air around him as he glances to Matty probably trying to think of a way to spark conversation. Don't.

The ring on Matty's hand gleams in the sunlight as he yanks the steering wheel to the right, effortlessly tuning the final corner before Sours. I look away from it, quickly as though the mere sight of it has scorched me and if I dare stare any longer my eyeballs will luiqify and drip out its sockets like spilled milk off a counter top.

The weather is quite lovely and I find myself day dreaming of golden sand with specs of sea shell and ocean blue salt water, glistening like a thosand diamonds.

-
Nearly two weeks have passed and I've spent the entirety of my time on the Internet researching Matty's ring like a obsessive psycho. I know better than to believe everything plastered throughout articles but I can't say I believe them all to be false. I had asked Alec to snap a picture of his ring for me while we were at Sours and he did rather discretely like the loyal friend he has become, he sent it to me later that night but not before adding 'should I even ask?'

I haven't told him everything but I also didn't keep him in the dark, I'm trapped in it and I hate not seeing my own way so the last thing I'd ever want is for him to stub his toe on blacken objects like myself. Besides I couldn't tell him much even if I wanted to.

I'd Google search the image a little trick I learned compliments of endless binge sessions of Catfish and a few newspaper clippings came up, some of which were dated centuries ago of a the wealthy 'Healy' family who just like Matty walked around like they ran the town and in a way they did.

At first there wasn't anything out of the ordinary they practically helped build the town along with another family the Denossos' they were both feared as well as respected and the money they owned and spent so openly came from numerous undertakings although more than a few articles strongly believe the families are both or should i say were both corrupted and gained their money on the black market using some sketchy companies as a ploy for their income.

Eventually both families encountered a little fued and their makeshift partnership shattered like my Nans thinned glass Pyrex bowl when Antelica thought she had a future in dancing and knocked into the cabinet she had it locked away in for years upon years cherishing the only wedding gift she had left remaining from her and Papa's big tye the knot day. They fought for the ownership of their rewards that were achieved together and messingly split everything between the lot of them.

And as the articles drew closer to the present time an interesting picture finally came up of a young man dressed quite strikingly in an expensive suit, tailored to his body in a way only self made attires can, with shoes so polished the light from the golden chandelier hanging from the the white and gold ceiling reflects onto it.

He's smiling, the tip of his right upper lip pulled higher than his left, boney fingers brushing the golden locks of the model-worthy beauty perched on his lap dressed in what appears to be a white show-girl costume. A corset made entirely of white pearls her bottom covered by white feathers, scattered heavily with silver.

Her jewelry is exquisitely beautiful pearls of all sizes, you'd think it much but it isn't and does wonders for her, she has one of those feathered.... scarf-looking things, a boa hanging off her left hand that's not wrapped around him, fingers at the back of his neck just barely touching the slicked back, oil black hair.

One of her leg is kicked high in the air, a silver heal with shadow crystals that run along the thin strap that secures around her anckle and down the front adorning her feet. The hand that's not pushing at her hair is running along her stockens. Her blue eyes are fixed on him but his are dancing with life looking at the two other females in front of him, short black hair styled in waves dressed in golden costumes with beading and sequence to match. Both their left feet are high in the air toes pointed in their golden heals, heads rocked back and bodies in a blur of motion.

Two large men dressed in less impressive but still charming black suits are standing a little way off arms folded and eyes observant but it's the sign above their heads that had irked at my subconscious. An cathair, the city. I had stared at it longer than any sane human would before looking up the city and Ithaca and you can only imagine what that was like.

A needle in a haystack apparently even though this town is considered pretty small by standards it has a booming city life. Night clubs, restaurants, cinemas, art exhibits, hotels, book stores, malls, bowling even a freaking target. But nothing really on the Healy family and the building named the city where women danced and pranced around in half naked costumes. Nope only on their funding of the actual city and being basically royalties in the eyes of the public.

Matty hasn't been around much well he has but not to interact with me just to throw an 'eye on me' and the conversations that we do have are to remind me that I'm not allowed the pleasantries of any male. He seems to accept that he can't stop me from going to see Alec unless he enjoys our screaming matches in the middle of my front lawn.

If he thinks I'm going to be his little show girl and kick my legs out for him he's sadly mistaken I'd kick my knee into his shin and bolt. If I'd thought he'd be helpful in the least I would of gone to him but not really because I do have that slight fear that he'd blow my brains off for questioning him.

It wasn't him in the picture but undeniably an ancestor of his so there's a possibility it could have evolved from show girls to strippers. Who knows? Oh and I am honestly starting to believe this town does not even have a proper police force I've yet to see any cops at all and not even the GPS in my car can find the nearest police station.

As a result I am forced to involve Alec and as I push open the double doors at Sours and walk into the dimly lit room that forces nostalgia on you, some distant memory of you and your family when you were a little girl with pigtails and feet that swings back and forth in the air- to short to reach the ground and tiny hands that wraps around waffle cones and your mother's gleaming eyes staring at you with awe or perhaps of your high school self with jeans tight enough to be your skin and your boyfriend's jacket that smells of him perched around your shoulders, feet a jumbled mess with his under the table as he runs his fingers through his hair beaming up at you and your chocolate ice cream which you secretly hate but he thinks it's your favorite flavor so you eat it to be polite.

I look around for Alec and spot him by the counter,go figure, surrounded by a group of girls all hanging on his every word. I watch as they sigh when he reaches to tye his blonde hair up with a maroon coloured hair-tye as if it's the most dreamy thing a human could possibly do.

He spots me and excuses himself making his way to me, long legs in blue jeans. "Sep! Why so sulky? Oi I got something to fix that," he turns and disappears before coming back and pushes cookie doe ice cream in my hands 'on the house.'

I don't think I've actually ever paid for ice cream here its always on the house and if those girls earlier squeals are anything to go by I'd say he does a lot of 'on the house' he's going to send his Nan out of business at this rate. I've tried paying but he's stubborn and never accepts my money so I just stick it in the tips jar when he's not looking.

"What do you know about the city?" I ask during licks and his eyes light up. "Oh baby finally! You've come to the right person to help you let loose, what ya thinking night club?.. there's a carnival in town tomorrow night that seems more your style." He wiggles his shoulder and torso a bit in what I believe to be a dance, grinning at me or with himself I'm not entirely sure. It takes me a minute to realize he's the Internet....well he isn't a global communication network but he thinks I'm referring to the literal city.

The bell chimes and a group of collage students swarm inside he groans looking at me then to them giving me a sympathetic shrug as if to say 'what can I do?' I brush him off smiling and walking to one of the boots. I don't have anything planned and I love it here so I don't mind waiting for when the rush is over and he has time to talk. I take pictures of the teenagers dancing around wildly to the tunes of the juke box, laughing as their friends try to master those old time dance moves like from hairspray the movie which is playing on a television hanging on the red walls.