Fan Fiction ❯ The Theater of Emerald Tears ❯ One ( Chapter 1 )

The Theater of Emerald Tears

By Nix Winter

The house smelled like sunlight on starched sheets, like coffee, like furniture polish that the housekeeper surely used, like the things lovers did for the first time at the start of falling in love. Sunny opened one eye, reached across the starched cotton sheet to the edge of an abandoned pillow, and pulled it closer, as if he were stealing the crown jewels. Both eyes closed, he tucked the pillow under his cheek and balanced the virtues of laying here in Heaven for a while longer, or getting up and taking care of what he needed to do. Accountants balanced things and that's what he did, usually. It wasn't every late Saturday afternoon that he got to nap, naked, in a huge four poster bed that was older than the neighborhood he lived in and thicker than his couch. The lure of accomplishing finding a home for some of the children Jimmy had suddenly become responsibility

Money was old in the Caravello family and Sunny felt like an exotic animal almost. Light honey colored skin contrasted lushly against the bright white sheets, almond eyes and dark hair fanned out over his own pillow, maybe he looked like one too. In his mind, he could see Jimmy as clearly as if he were laying there still. With his eyes closed, he could just about reach out and touch the lean body, the lines across Jimmy's belly, dark hair short and soft. Jimmy Caravello was Apollo, the god of New York, at least as far as Sunny was concerned. Love softened everything and gangster and half breed bean counter became Apollo and tomodachi in Sunny's thoughts.

He rolled over, stretched, arching his back. It was 1933, the world hadn't exploded in war yet, at least not in America, and Sunny Diamond thought he was the happiest man in all the world. Abruptly, he sat up, one hand on either side of him and stared out Jimmy's huge bedroom window, out over a garden that was more snow on trees than garden, but the white shapes, the branches covered in cold glass were so beautiful. "Everything is beautiful! I woke up in a movie!"

Everything went back to the movies for Sunny. At fifteen he'd discovered them, with his very first pay draft from Jimmy's father. He'd been a fifteen-year-old apprentice accountant for the most powerful gangster in New York, living in a hotel room, with two changes of clothing and his uncle's book, missing his school friends and his Grandmother's house, but then he'd found the theater on Fourth and Monroe. For five years, 12 cents had gotten him all the friends he wanted, all the exciting places his mind could crave. A couple hours cleaning a week got him some popcorn and sometimes a cold pop. It had all seemed so untouchable, and yet, here he was sitting in the bed of someone who was kind and gentle and beautiful and without warning, Sunny threw Jimmy's pillow into the air, and fell back against the bed with a joyous yell. He'd woken up in the middle of a beautiful movie!

The door creaked open. He didn't hear it, just laying there, Jimmy's pillow to chest, staring at the ceiling, thinking about kissing Jimmy.

"Burglar!" A shrill female voice charged! "Get out!"

He blinked, just in time to see a broom headed for his head. He rolled, got bristles down his bare back, tangled in the sheet and hit the floor on the other side of the bed with a thump. "Wait!"

"Pervert!" The woman screamed, rounding the corner of the bed, fixing to swing the broom again. "How dare you get on Mr. Caravello's bed!"

"No!" Sunny ducked, holding crisp white to his chest, around his completely naked body. "Wait!"

He scrambled back, having got his balance now, despite the lump on the back of his had and the black eye that probably didn't make him look at all reputable.

She held her broom out like a bat, both hands on it, looking at him like he was going to jump on her at any moment. A small woman, with once black hair piled on her head and a very Italian fervor for protecting family and home. "You broke into Jimmy Caravello's house! He's gonna kill you!"

"I'm Sunny," he said, backing away from the bristles shaking at him, "Sunny Diamond."

"Oh? And? What kind of name is that? Naked on Mr. Caravello's bed! His father would roll in his grave! And what would his brother say!?" That brought another swipe with the broom and Sunny nearly fell over the sheet wrapped around him. "I've sent for the police!"

Sunny's lip twitched, as he tried to think what to say. His eye hurt. His head hurt. He wished he'd gotten up and gone with Jimmy! "I'm an accountant."

"Oh," she said, disbelief dripping on her words, eyes narrow, broom bristles poking at him, as she tried to herd him towards the small bathroom. "Are you now? Just back from a convention and thought this was a hotel, did you?"

"No! I'm Mr. Caravello's accountant! I work for him! He brought me home." Sunny blushed, hot red on cheeks that felt more British than Japanese then, like his cheeks would just catch flame. "I got hurt yesterday," he added lamely, eyes on the floor, one hand going to the lump on the back of his head. "He's taking care of me."

"Oh, so now you're not only an accountant, but you're Mr. Caravello's accountant and he's taking care of you. Do I look stupid to you, Mr. Diamond? Does this look like a fairy tale castle to you?"

"Please," Sunny said, moving back away from her, in the direction of his pants, which hung over the back a chair. "Just let me get dressed and go. I've got some business to take care of for Mr. Caravello and he'll be expecting me."

She gave another poke with the broom and he glared at her as he bent to pick up his socks. "How did you get that lump," she asked, concerned for him, maybe, perhaps a little less intimidated by the naked Japanese man in her boss' bed.

Sunny's eyes crossed as he stood up too quickly, clutching thin wool socks and mostly unwrinkled trousers. Cross now, he glared back at her. "I went to ask an old school friend about some money that was missing from the accounts and he wasn't really happy to see me. He took a swing, we were falling, I ended up on the bottom. There? Satisfied? I'm clumsy and an accountant. I don't even own a gun!"

He hadn't realized he was swaying, that the room was spinning until her hand caught his shoulder.

"Sit down, will you? Let me look at that. Why on Earth did Mr. Caravello leave you alone?" She propped her broom against the dresser. "Guns are used mostly for shooting other people and this city's had quite enough blood. Have you seen a doctor?"

Blushing with humiliation now, Sunny tried to pull back his arm, and only succeeded in having her manipulate him into the chair he'd had his pants on. "Now see here, I was just a touch shocked to see a stranger in Mr. Caravello's bed, that's all. He seems to have a lot of unsavory friends, but he's a very good boy. "

"Uh," Sunny said leaning forward to get his pants on. He wasn't sure he didn't miss the broom wielding behavior. "You've been with the family for a long time?"

"I worked for Mr. Caravello's grandfather. I'm sorry about the broom. I'm getting old, you know," she said, as if that were some secret that he wouldn't have known if she hadn't told him. "And there is so much violence, so much fighting. I almost wish Mr. Caravello had done as his brother."

"Mr. Caravello makes things better," Sunny said, completely believing it. He stood, blinked and fastened his pants, wishing he'd gotten his boxers on too, but pants were a great deal better than a sheet. His eyes crossed though as he reached for his shirt. "He is helping. I have to talk to my friend James about if he knows anyone who can take an orphan in. That's what I have to go do now," he said, sitting back down, buttoning his shirt, telling himself that his head did not hurt, that he was not dizzy, not at all.

"You have a head injury. You should go back to bed. That must be why Mr. Caravello left you here."

Sunny reached into his pocket and found the key that Jimmy had said he'd leave for him. "I'm not an invalid," he insisted, holding up the key as if it were solid proof. "See? Mr. Caravello left me a key. I can come and go." Now he was smiling, smiling all the way back to his spine, down to his soul, making his hair stand on end. Jimmy wanted him to come back, trusted him. "I might be here a lot."

"Is that so," she said, distrusting him again, but eyeing the key, slightly confused by it. "Don't you have a home or wife of your own?"

That made Sunny wonder how very secret Jimmy's tastes were. Okay, so Mr. Malloy and Mr. Meyer knew, but maybe the rest of the world wouldn't know. Not even Jimmy's housekeeper? "I have a home, but Mr. Caravello has many beautiful books and he is a generous man, allowing me to study here, if I chose."

"You're one for the fairytales, aren't you?" She said it gently this time though. "That's alright though. Fairytales are good for the spirit. Would you like me to bring you some coffee or some lemonade, Mr. Diamond?"

Smiling at the truce, Sunny shook his head. "I just want to get going. You don't mind if I wash up a little, do you?"

"I really don't think you ought to leave any where," she said, studying his eye. "If Mr. Caravello gave you a key," she paused, "Your studies must be really important to him."

"I am not going to do anything dangerous," Sunny said, wondering if he looked fragile and small or something.

_

Downstairs, at the servant's entrance, the door shook, then the door frame creaked. Sunny and Miss. Vitero were on the second floor. The bolt broke free of the wood holding it, letting the door open and spraying splinters around on the clean tile floor.

_

"Yes, but who promises that they wouldn't do something dangerous to you," she said, looking concerned. "After all, there are gangsters in this city! Mr. Caravello should do something about them if he's helping so much."

Sunny blew air into his cheeks, which made his black eye remind him of why he shouldn't do that. "Maybe gangsters are a little like feudal lords and the city needs them. They are the daimyo of this new world."

"I don't have a clue what a dynamo is, but they're vicious little tyrants that would sooner kill you than deal decently and make their money the right way," she said, quite certain of herself. "You get cleaned up. I'll make you coffee and we'll see how you're feeling."

"That would be very nice of you," Sunny said, smiling lightly, thinking, just maybe, his cheeks weren't as bright as beets now. Even though he didn't like coffee, he didn't really think offending her would be wise. "Coffee would be very kind."

"Right. A good strong Italian coffee will keep you on your feet," she said, taking her broom back and having the decency to look slightly sheepish when he flinched. "I am sorry, but you do understand I wasn't expecting to find anyone in Mr. Caravello's bed."

It was kind of nice though, to think that someone in Jimmy's bed was that rare. "I guess he wasn't either, or he would have told you to expect me. I'll try not to get hurt anymore, so he doesn't," Sunny paused as she walked towards the door.

"Don't worry, Mr. Diamond. There are some things a person just chooses not to see, and then there are things maybe are not so bad. It might be nice to have you studying in this house." She closed the door on her way out and he stood there just watching the door, again lost in the feeling that he was in a movie somehow. It was too good to be true.

On the servant's stairs, just passed the broom closet, as she was opening the door that would lead into the kitchen, Miss. Vitero ended her service to the Caravello family. An experienced and expensive problem solver, employeed by a rival that thought that Jimmy Caravello was a problem, wielded the blade that opened her throat. His employer wanted someone who could read Chinese and wanted to gut Jimmy Caravello's business. He got both with the little Chinese accountant. The heart of the money was in the books. He'd have Jimmy's heart on a string before the end of the week. He left Miss. Vitero in the broom closet, the same closet she'd hidden in as a small child, then continued up the stairs. He knew the little Chinese bastard was here somewhere.