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On the Run -Chapter One

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On
the Run





Chapter
One-The Man in the White and Blue Suit


Anna's
Narrative





October
7th, 1947-


The Club
30s. One of the most popular hangout
places
in Chicago. The
people that normally came to the speakeasy just went there to hang
out, talk with friends and have a few drinks of booze. I first came
to the bar after my friend Tallulah told me about it, saying that
cute guys in suits always go there. I've been going to the Club 30s
for almost two months, which was enough time for me to wise up about
the gin mill and its usual inhabitants.



I sat at an empty table next to the billiards table, wearing my new
red dress, along with my usual black lace gloves, nylons, ruby
earrings, brown hair up with a feather and my high heels. Everyone
was talking while the band played jazz music in the background.
Staring at the brick wall, I wondered why my friend wanted me to come
to the speakeasy on a cold October night. I didn't get why I was
nervous that evening. Turning my gaze to some women talking to men in
zoot suits, I started to feel like a crumb; I wasn't that great with
making friends, even at the age of 25. As I let out a silent sigh,
the club door suddenly opened and someone walked in. Everybody
stopped what they were doing and looked at the gatecrasher; the
entryway had already closed lickety-split when we turned our heads to
the intruder at the same time.


The
gatecrasher was a young man with light brown skin and was wearing a
copacetic outfit: White jacket, suspenders, pants, tie and spats;
polished black leather shoes; blue socks and silk shirt; blue armband
on his right jacket sleeve and a white fedora with a blue band. Part
of his face was hidden from the shadow of the fedora's brim.
His
black curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

Amidst the
silence, some
of the the men were whispering softly to their nearby colleagues.


Who
is that guy?”
</I>
I wondered to myself.



The abrupt clicking sound from a few guns brought me out of my
thoughts and into the real world. The stranger had pulled back the
right side of his jacket, maybe to get out a hidden revolver. But
instead, and to my relief, he put his hand in his pocket, pulled out
a simple quarter and flipped it to the jukebox about 15 feet away
from him. I noticed that he also had a few pieces of white tape
attached to three fingers on his right hand. While everyone's
attention was on the flying piece of silver, I looked at the man in
the white and blue suit curiously. Once the quarter entered the 1015
bubbler via the coin slot, I heard a loud noise that made me jump in
surprise out of my seat. Then booming fast-paced music began to play;
it wasn't coming from the music player or the band on the little
stage, and it absolutely wasn't the kick I was used to at that point.



Some of the members of the crowd began to dance to the tune shortly
after the gatecrasher stepped forward, stopped and began to sing:



As he came into the window,



It was the sound of a crescendo.



He came into her apartment,



Left the bloodstains on the carpet.



He walked forward again.



She ran underneath the table,



He could see she was unable.



So she ran into the bedroom,



She was struck down. It was her doom.


What
the heck is this guy singing about?”
</I>I
thought.
“Pretty
darn good tenor, though.”



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



He reached the bar where two men in suits seemed to be waiting for
their cue; they danced with him.



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



The stranger separated from the gangster back up dancers, hopped onto
the stage without missing a beat and grasped the microphone stand.



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



When he brought the mic close to his mouth, other voices sang in
harmony with him while the guys and dolls moved to the music.



(Annie, are you OK?)



(Will you tell us that you're OK?)



(There's a sign in the window)



(That he struck you- a crescendo, Annie.)



(He came into your apartment.)



(Left the bloodstains on the carpet.)



(Then you ran into the bedroom,)



(You were struck down. It was your doom.)



Everybody in the speakeasy was dancing to this strange music; I was
the only one that wasn't affected by the tune. Yet. I turned to the
exit to get out of the club, but that was when the music started to
control me. My gloved hands slowly drew up the left side of my red
dress and exposed my leg.


Why
I am I doing this?”
</I>I
thought.
“Stop!!”



One of the fellas in dark suits
came up to me, probably thinking I was a share crop, and grabbed at
my arm to make me stop and look at him. Then another guy approached
me from my left side and they tried to make a pass with me while
arguing over me. I was too afraid in this sticky situation that I
didn't pay attention to the gunshot behind me and a body landing on
the floor with a
THUMP.
One of the two guys hit the other one and I ducked to avoid getting
punched by their incoming fists, which knocked them both out. I spun
around to the music when an caught me around the waist. Looking up, I
saw that it was the man in the white and blue suit; I was able to
finally look at his face. He had these keen brown eyes that I
couldn't stop staring into. The man also had a slightly pointed nose.



After I spun again, the gatecrasher's hand smoothly slid from my
waist to the underside of my arm, palm and he let go as we both took
a step backwards in unison with the drums and bass. His touch made me
feel tingly and warm inside.



“Mmmmm...” I voiced to myself as I lightly placed my hand
on my collarbone; this man was definitely a dreamboat.



The handsome stranger watched a nearby game of some kind with money
played by some other gangsters.



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie,are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



One of the gangsters grabbed the money on the ground and did a
rather odd dance to celebrate his victory.



Annie, are you OK?



So Annie, are you OK?



Are you OK, Annie?



The gatecrasher noticed the dancing winner, came up to him, judo
flipped the guy (who landed flat on his back, holding up his winnings
with a stiff arm) took a stack of dollar bills and put that inside
his jacket.



You've been hit by,



You've been hit by



A smooth criminal.



Once again, the gangsters behind him danced with him before he
trekked to the billiards table, just in time to catch the white cue
ball that bounced up from one of the table's edges. The man in the
white and blue suit spun around, faced a guy on his right and crushed
the ball like a fragile Christmas ornament into white powder. The
gangster that shot the ball to the other side of the table snapped
his cue stick in frustration; he pointed threateningly at the
gatecrasher. The gatecrasher casually walked to the angry gangster,
spun again and blew the dust from his hand into the man's eyes. I
watched the handsome stranger as he went up the staircase, who saw my
friend Tallulah standing on the flight of the stairs with a clear
sappy look in her dark eyes.



Tallulah was an African American woman that wore a gold flapper
dress. I've known her for about two years. She always did her best to
improve my social life, especially with men. But at the same time,
she loved to steal money from guys if she ever got the chance.



The man in the spiffy suit's walk turned into a jog, making him go a
little bit faster, stood in front of Tallulah and lightly stroked her
cheek. A wave of jealousy filled my soul. I wanted him to touch me
like that. Tallulah's hand's moved secretly into the man's pocket,
pulled out a $20 bill and stuffed it into her bra when the
gatecrasher turned to continue going up the steps. She was a natural
gold digger.



So they came into the outway,



It was Sunday. What a black day.



Every time I try to find him,



He's leaving no clues left behind him.



And he had no way of knowing



Of the suspect or what to expect.



Mouth to mouth resuscitation,



Sounding heartbeats- intimidations.



Once the gatecrasher disappeared from my view, Tallulah turned her
gaze to me and winked. That meant that everything was going to one of
her plans.



The “Annie, are you OK”'s were repeated again; I guessed
it was probably the bridge to this tune. Once again, the music
controlled me, making me sit down at my chair. Everyone banged their
fists on nearby table surfaces to the impact sounds in the song.
Looking up, I saw the handsome gatecrasher on the metal staircase,
that was somehow being lowered, and jumped off when it was close
enough to the ground. The chorus was sung for the second time and I
got up and danced in unison with the others. One of the goons picked
me up and held me over his head as I was snapping my fingers to the
beat. He lowered me down just as the man in the white and blue suit
ascended onto a table, where he spun for an impossible amount of
time. He suddenly stopped with his hand casually in his pocket and
pointing up, saying “Aaow!”



One of the overhead windows was shattered by his voice, glass pieces
falling to the ground; the lights also changed into a soft blue
instead of the usual yellow. Something began to happen inside
everyone, making them moan. I too was affected; some sort of warm,
liquefied sensation slowly sweeping inside my veins. The moans I
heard sounded like the ones made when experiencing sensual pleasure
or experiencing the pain of a serious wound. My gam unconsciously
rose up above my head.



What's happening?” I
thought to myself, trying to fight this unwanted enjoyment and put my
leg
down.



But when I struggled with the feeling, I started to get dizzy.
Purple spots enclosed my vision as the room spun around me.
Deliberately attempting to stay standing, I suddenly felt weak and
fell over backwards but was seized by the gatecrasher before I hit
the ground. His right hand held me around my waist while the other
lightly touched my cheek.



When I looked into his eyes, he brought me closer to his form and
gently whispered “Don't try to fight it, Anna. Just go with the
flow.”



His whisper was so soothing and soft to my ears, making me relax.
Giving in to the bliss, I let my leg slowly lift up onto his hip as
my arms wrapped themselves around his neck. The hand that was on my
cheek slid down my side and rested on my risen leg, caressing my
thigh; it felt amazing. When he was done, the gatecrasher carefully
brought my leg back down and let go of me with my strength returning.



Some of the fellas began to faintly
chant the “Annie, are you OK”'s and became louder when
everyone else, including myself, joined in. The sensation inside me
somehow let me know that the tune was going to resume. The
gatecrasher took off his hat, letting me see how curly his hair was,
shouted
“So Annie, are you OK?”,
and the crowd responded by saying
“Are you OK,
Annie?”
, which was the
signal for the song to continue and lights to come back on. Everyone,
except for the man in the white and blue suit and four other
gangsters, cleared the dance floor. The five men did a fast dance
that wasn't the jitterbug, but it was exciting to watch.



A big fella in a brown suit walked
to the gatecrasher, which caused the four backup dancers to cower
back into the audience, and we all watched as the gatecrasher
appeared to be sliding forward with his feet, but was actually going
backwards to get farther away from the gangster. The big man left the
dance floor as four new backup hoofers in gangster suits separated
from the crowd and did an incredible stunt with the man in the white
and blue suit: All four of them, after titling their fedoras closer
to their faces, leaned at an unimaginable angle before smoothly
getting upright and went back to
dancing.



The chorus repeated again and I joined the dancing group while the
others followed suit. This song was fun to dance with; but the
escapade was cut short when we heard the sound of marching feet
directly above us. Everyone except for the gatecrasher looked up and
saw silhouettes of a strange army of trigger men dressed in odd
armor, carrying rifles and walking in cadence to the beat of outside
the overhead windows. I started to get the heebie-jeebies when I
realized that the man in the spiffy suit didn't sense the danger. The
calvary stopped marching, turned and pointed their guns to the people
inside the building. Fearing for my life and the gatecrasher's, I
tapped him on the shoulder; he stopped moving to the music when he
looked at me, saw that I was pointing up and finally sighted the
army. Panic and terror was read on his face: The armed forces were
after him. He ran to the middle of flooring and everyone crowded
around him.



He crouched down and came back up holding a Chicago typewriter. I
was the first the drop to the floor after seeing the chopper.
Everyone else that surrounded him ran for cover as he opened fire at
the infantry; the soldiers retreated.



One of the fellas grabbed the man in the white and blue suit's arm,
leading him to the exit. A swing dancer wearing a green dress helped
get the gatecrasher off the dance floor and closer to the club door.
The gangster snatched the gun away from the gatecrasher, telling him
to scram, and the man in the spiffy suit was forced outside the exit
just before the woman shut the door. The music stopped and never
played again.



Standing up after the door was closed, I felt many mixed emotions:
Confusion; shock; heartbroken and exhausted. After a few silent
moments, everyone began to talk again as if nothing had happened.
Upset about the mysterious man that was kicked out of the speakeasy,
I heaved myself to a nearby table that was occupied by a wide-eyed
Tallulah.



“Anna?” she began. “What's eating you up?”



I bowed my head and felt hot tears flowing down my cheeks, sniffling.



“There's something I have to tell you,” Tallulah said.



“What is it?” I questioned with my voice cracking.



“The guy in the swanky suit came here because I arranged him to
be your blind date,” she answered.



Wiping the tears from my eyes, I looked up and said “Huh?”



“It was a surprise for you,” she continued.



“Did he say what his name is?” I asked her, feeling a
little bit hopeful.



“No. He didn't,” Tallulah sighed sadly. “I talked
to him on the telephone and he also mentioned that he was on the
run.”



My heart sank and eyes widened; “On the run?” I repeated.



“Yeah,” she replied.



He was probably running from someone that wanted him dead,”
I thought. “That's
why he opened fire at the army of henchman. To not only save his
skin, but the others around him.”



Looking back down at the
brown, wooden table, my mind was still on the handsome gatecrasher:
His beautiful eyes, hotsy-totsy speaking and singing voice, how he
danced and... his touch. The recent memory of him dancing with me and
stroking my leg was playing inside my head. I really wished that he
would've kissed me, but that was the first time we've ever met.



“Annie?” Tallulah said, snapping me out of my thoughts;
she hasn't called me by that nickname in a long time. “Are you
OK?”



I shook my head and whispered one word: “No.”



Sighing and shutting my eyes closed
to try and stop the tears, I thought
“If only I knew
his name.....”












Link to original picture: images2.fanpop.com/image/photo…

For a U.S. History assignment, I had to write a creative essay about the Roaring Twenties. I asked my History teacher if I could do a fanfic for the essay and she said "Yes". For the essay, I wrote a fanfiction of "Smooth Criminal" with 1920s slang. After I turned in the original typed essay, I modified it with '30s and '40s slang instead. Also, I changed the year in this chapter.
I hope you guys like the new story. It's been a long time since I've done a new fanfic. :D
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