A Present We Don't Deserve (Sid)
August 20th, 1904
Seems like I’ve been stuck in this cell for weeks, but it’s only been a few days. At least they didn’t take my journal from me. It’s not like I write in it much, but some times, like now when there’s nothing else to do and my nerves are on end, it’s nice to have. Sometimes writing my thoughts down is the only way I can deal with them. There’s so many things in my head right now, wish-washing all over each other. I guess to sort things out, the best place to start is from the beginning.
How long has it been now? Two years? One year earlier my sister had died, being caught in a crossfire from some gangsters. If you think of the mob in royal terms, Chicago was one of their castles, and our neighborhood the main courtyard. I tended to hang out with Harry after Caroline died. He was dad’s friend, a nice guy. He took me under his wing, and showed me the ropes of being a detective. I liked it. It got my mind off things, gave me something to do. It was exciting at first, too. I had dreams of dames in distress, fancy parties, intrigue, danger, what kid could resist? I met a girl around that time as well. Her name was Daina. She had a smile that would just melt you. I was crazy about her. Or thought I was… Perhaps having someone help me forget my pain made them seem greater in my eyes. In any case, I felt like I was living a fantasy. Reality always has a nasty habit of crushing fantasies, though.
I remember that night as if it was yesterday. I was in bed, and heard the gun shots. Never heard anyone entering though. Being the brainiac that I am, I ran to my parents’ room, like I could do something. That’s when I saw ‘em. They were…they were blood. That’s all I remember them as being. A man dressed all in black stood beside them, holding two silver guns. Those guns stood out like a sore thumb in the darkness. I thought for sure I’d be dead, and at that point I didn’t really care. The man didn’t shoot me though. He just turned to me and he said, like it should mean something, “Sorry kid, it’s not personal,” and he left. Just like that.
The cops said it was mob involvement, again. I know my folks had nothing to do with the mob, but crime is a dirty business, and some people will turn anyone into a scapegoat to get their own necks off the noose. Daina left me shortly thereafter too. She said she couldn’t deal with me anymore, that she wanted someone more ‘carefree’. She said what happened was too much for her. Guess it wasn’t much to me, eh girl? Luckily I had Harry. He took me in, and raised me as a son the next couple of years. I knew I wasn’t that great at being a private investigator. He knew it too, but would still throw me bones. I knew he did it to keep my mind off things. Harry was a swell guy. He gave me the job to find this girl, Thara. It was a cake job. I found her easily enough but… I couldn’t turn her in. I couldn't bring myself to do it after getting to know her. I wrote Harry a note explaining things. I had to keep some of the truth to myself though. I think he knew I found her, but he played along. Now he’s gone though, just like the others. With what’s going on right now, I don’t know how much longer I have even.
You always think you have tomorrow until something bad comes along to remind you that you may not. Each day is a gift given to us. That's why it’s the present. We don’t deserve it, but we keep getting it anyway. Who are we to argue with someone for deciding to stop giving us a gift we haven’t earned? It still doesn’t stop the hurt though. But it does mean we can’t let the hurt run our lives, or we’ll never enjoy our gifts. You just have to live each day as you get it. Each is a brand new chapter in your life. Even when you think your story is about to end, maybe you'll find out it's just beginning.
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