Chapter 102: Chapter 102

LEBLANC...

Technology always amazes me. The way the world evolves, even if people don't follow the same path. And with that said, I'd like to point out one technology in particular: the Ferris wheel.

Yes, the ferris wheel. Let's talk about her then.

A large hoop of reinforced iron, with booths hanging from it, revolving endlessly to the right. Fast enough to entertain people, slow enough not to make you queasy. Simply fascinating, especially considering the colorful light show around.

'I thought it was charming too,' Angelic says, interrupting my thoughts about George Ferris, the creator of the Ferris wheel.

- What? I ask.

- The ferris wheel. I was fascinated by her as a child.

I look at Angelic, who is in front of me. I can visualize her child version, maybe with a bow in her hair. I can almost see her, tiny, staring at the ferris wheel, marveling at everything the curious eyes of a normal child can reach.

However, on the other hand, I don't think she can have the same vision of me. Perhaps it's a bit obvious, but I didn't have an amusement park childhood. The first years of my life were less colorful, so to speak.

- What fascinated you the most? - I want to know.

- Everything – she smiles – The bears, the shooting games, the haunted house, the roller coaster...

Angelic is always beautiful, but especially today, she looks radiant. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes merry, her lips always turned up with sincere smiles. And I'm not exaggerating, or flattering her ego. Angelic truly is the loveliest person I know.

When she told me she wanted to tour Italy, I thought of Museums or Theaters. She is fluent in Italian, so I assumed that no tour of any kind could surprise me. However, when I found myself standing in line at an amusement park, surrounded by a few hundred mini people, I was taken aback. I mean, I'm doing this solely and exclusively because of a woman.

The queue progresses some more, and then it's our turn to enter the cabin. I confess, queuing is not my favorite way to waste time. But, confessing again, being with Angelic magically makes my time well spent.

Once inside the cabin, Angelic sits next to me, and when the Ferris wheel starts to move, she places a hand on my knee and squeezes it lightly – maybe out of fear, or expectation. His face is adorned with a slight smile and blue eyes reflecting the lights of the entire fucking city. Simply, and undeniably, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"It's just as beautiful as I remembered," she comments.

I place my hand over his, intertwining our fingers. And, in the cheesiest way possible, I engrave this moment into the most solid part of me, like an engraving on a stone. I want to remember the pink dress she's wearing, her hair down, her reddened lips...

- Thank you – she turns to me – Thank you for coming with me.

Thank you for coming with me.

- You are welcome.

She steps forward, and then her lips touch mine. This kiss, a priori innocent, makes me feel like it's my first kiss. It's as if my entire existence, up to this point, has simply ceased to exist. All that exists is her, her kisses, her touch, her words...her.

And along with this feeling of rebirth, there is also a tightness in my chest. Something like guilt.

I hold your face in my hands. His tongue slides into my mouth, tasting like cotton candy, and it makes me think about how much of a farce this moment is. Yes, a lie. I'm not who she thinks I am. Most of the things I've said to date are part of a service. That's not me. And that's all that makes me feel guilty.

I can't exactly say that I'm sorry. Everything I've done has brought me here, and brought Angelic to my side. But…fuck, I don't know. For the first time in my entire damn life, I don't know.

If I have to be honest, I mean I could go on lying to my grave if it guaranteed she would stay with me. However, still being honest, I don't want someone like Angelic to live all his days believing a liar.

When she finishes kissing me, she sighs deeply, as if all the oxygen is in me. Angelic pulls away, but that nagging nagging lingers in my chest, demanding that I give him the chance to know the truth, to know that I'm not worth his time.

I lift my hand, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. And if this is my last touch, so be it, it's a worthy end.

- About your father… – I pause, looking for the least disgraceful words to say that I am part of the damage in his life.

- I don't want to talk about it – Angelic shakes her head – It's in the past. And for the first time in my entire life, I feel like there's a future for me.

No one knows better than I how ugly the truth is. She's bitter, and goes down the throat like it's prickly. But the lie is sweet and tender. It fits everywhere, and sounds like smooth wine on the palate. The lie doesn't hurt, because it can be anything. She pretends to be the remedy for your illness and makes you think she's comfortable.

And right now, the lie is what guarantees Angelic's smile. Once she learns the truth, she will never be the girl before me again.

In this case, a toast to the oldest spirit of darkness in the world: the lie.

'Of course there's a future for you,' I assure you.

Blue eyes shine so brightly I'm almost glad I lied. I hardly regret knowing how temporary this is. I almost thank you for being so selfish and miserable. Almost.

The ferris wheel stops. Gradually, people are coming down from the booths. The vast majority are couples who are too young to care about anything other than the moment. After all, Italy is a very romantic city. When our cabin hits the ground, so do we, hand in hand like any other fifteen-year-old couple. A ridiculous but irreplaceable moment.

Angelic walks at a faster pace, practically dragging me behind him. And when the steps turn into a sprint towards the target range, I understand his haste. She stops behind the counter, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she waits for the man on the other side to finish serving a child and giving her attention. Joe, according to the badge.

- Good night – he rests his elbows on the counter – Do you know the game?

- Yes – Angelic nods.

- Excellent. We're having a little competition today, on behalf of the city's dog shelter. Whoever hits twenty targets in a row can take this little guy home – he points to a table behind him, where a cage is. And inside the cage, a ball of black and white fur, like a dalmatian gone wrong. I am very surprised that this dog is the prize.

- Who's winning? Angelic asks.

Joe jerks his head to the side, and we follow him with our eyes to a man six feet away. Though he's wearing casual clothes, the bearing of a military man is unmistakable. They always seem to be tense.

- That guy – Joe says – He's in the military. I warned that it would be unfair to other people, but he wants to take the dog to his youngest daughter.

Fair.

Suddenly, Angelic turns to me, so quickly all I can see is the mess of blond hair flying across her face.

- Can I have a dog at your house?

One what?

This is the most absurd idea I've ever heard, and consider that I've heard a lot of nonsense.

Of course not, damn it. I haven't even gotten used to her presence, and I like her presence.

By any chance, is there the slightest, remotest possibility that I'm going to take it just because she's asking me to? No, it does not exist. But at the same time, I'm a gentleman, I'm not going to tell you I don't want a dog, especially this ugly dog. Therefore, I will give you a chance to lose.

'You need to beat the record first,' I say. It is unlikely to happen.

- Great – Angelic claps his hands, turning to Joe – I want ten chips.

Target shooting is a game that requires concentration, mastery of the mind and body, and precision. It's almost like having a gun in your hand. The form is the same, only the result changes. That's why I count on the military determined to get his daughter a dog.

Angelic takes the prototype shotgun and ten blank bullets and moves to the range, where there is a row of colored targets, about four inches long. Hitting a sequence makes the game difficult, but not impossible. And, unless Angelic has the aim and coordination unknown to me, it's easier for the military than for her.

- You can separate your legs for more stability – Joe guides – And remember to hit consecutive targets.

'Understood,' she says.

I watch Angelic do as Joe directs. She looks confident, and kind of hot too, I can't deny it. She takes aim at the row of targets and fires the first shot, hitting the first one in line. Then the second. His shots aren't perfect, though, for an amusement park game, it's impressive.

Angelic hits eight targets in a row, and his smile gets bigger with each hit. However, she is not competitive. Her smile isn't because she's reaching for the record holder, it's because she wants the damn dog.

To our right, the military is also shooting. And as far as I'm concerned, he didn't miss. It was a sequence of fifteen shots. That until...

- Shit! - I hear him murmur.

- Sixteen shots in a row! – Joe says to the military – I don't think anyone will surpass you.

Frankly, neither do I.

Angelic reloads once more. This will be your tenth shot. I can't say that she had luck, but I can't say that she had skill either. Angelic positions himself, takes aim at the red target and fires. However, the bullet passes between two targets, missing either one.

It was impressive that she made it this far. I am particularly proud. However, my relief at not having to take the dog home soon is replaced by the deepest sadness. Angelic sets the revolver project down on the counter, turning to me with none of her former smile gone.

- I had a name for it – she sighs – Ice cream.

- A terrible name.

- I know.

It was the intention, probably.

- You can buy a bear and call it Ice Cream - I extend my hand to her.

Angelic takes my hand, and then we start walking away from the booth. It breaks my heart that she is sad, but it would break my nerves to have a dog in the house. In addition, we contribute to the happiness of someone's youngest daughter. And as you all know, I love doing things for strangers.

- Played well, blonde - someone shouts behind us - But not enough.

The military. Who would say?

My feet lock onto the floor almost automatically. Blondie? For God's sake.

I turn to him slowly, bracing myself to find that cocky expression of victory on his face. And when I find her, I make myself list all the human rights I don't want to inflict today.

- Your name is... - I ask, already walking towards her. Angelic squeezes my hand, as if to stop me, but ends up following me.

"Harry," he replies.

- Harry – I repeat – Do you still accept an opponent?

- Did you know that I'm military? – he sneers – I call this joke Monday.

- I hear you missed the seventeenth shot – I turn to Joe, on the other side of the counter – Twenty chips – I ask.

All those years of training perfect aim have never been so wasted as they are now. I see myself in an amusement park booth shooting to win an ugly dog. I feel that my career has declined, I confess. But anyway, Joe hands me the blueprint for the shotgun and ammo I asked for. I let go of Angelic's hand just then.

I don't like this type of weapon, even if it's fake. It looks too rough, and it never goes with a three-piece suit. But damn it, I want to change my name if I don't make my wife smile in the next five minutes.

Joe adjusts the targets, then nods to me, indicating I can start. I hold the prototype in both hands, calculating the weight and turbulence it will cause when firing. I take a deep breath, noticing that the wind is blowing to the right with more intensity; this will guide the blank bullet, which is lighter. Focus on the target with the right eye, guiding the prototype further to the left, as the barrel is slightly bent. And then fired, hitting the exact middle of the target.

I want to be quick so I don't risk Angelic no longer being interested in the dog when I'm done. I swing my feet slightly to the left, aiming for the next target and firing. The next five shots are a quick but perfect sequence. Hit the center of all targets. I didn't need to make a show of it, but I insisted.

In about thirty seconds, all twenty bullets knocked out twenty targets.

I place the prototype on the workbench. And when I look at Joe, the man is kind of open-mouthed.

- It was a joke. We didn't expect that someone could hit twenty shots in a row.

"Harry calls this game Monday," I reply. "You can hand me... the thing."

- Of course – Joe opens the cage and removes the furry one from inside, who is shaking his tail and showing his tongue. He really must feel happy, because he provoked the biggest ego competition two men have ever fought over a dog - We found you a family, big boy.

Joe holds the dog out to me, however I nod towards Angelic. I've done enough for him. Angelic holds the dog in one hand, as he is practically the size of an ice cream cone, in fact. She holds her other hand out to me. And as we pull away from the booth, I don't feel the need to look at Harry one last time. What could he say? That I played well enough? That's obvious to both of us.

We walk a few steps in silence, which is different than I expected. Angelic was already very happy for much less. I'm used to kisses of thanks. Its stillness makes me uneasy.

I look at my girl, and the expression I find is, to say the least, curious. There's not a wide smile on his face, just big blue eyes staring at his Ice Cream. It brings me to a halt in the middle of the park right away.

Harry pissed her off?

Did Joe piss her off?

Did I piss her off? Unlikely!

I take Angelic's face between my hands and lift until her eyes look at me. The fucking world is happening all around us: the music, the lights, the people. And yet, everything that has my attention is in my hands. She takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out, she's sobbing, like she wants to cry.

- We don't need to take him. I never had a dog,” she says, in a low tone.

- You have one now.

His eyes shine, now no longer with the lights of just the city, but with the lights of the whole world. Angelic smiles, but the way she looks at me expresses a happiness her lips could never convey. And God knows how that look is my heaven and hell in the same place.

Don't do this to me, girl. Don't look at me like I'm important. You're going to hate me, but you're going to hate yourself that much more for these moments. For letting me be part of your happiness. Please do not do this to me.

I pull her to me, pressing her face to my chest. And even though the dog is between us, it doesn't bother me. He's welcome as long as he makes our girl happy. He's welcome as long as he makes sure the bubble we're in now never bursts.

My heart is beating faster than usual. I catch my breath as I realize I'm…nervous. In fact, I'm almost desperate. Or completely desperate. Because it's not just about wanting to protect Angelic, it's also about protecting what I feel when I'm with her.

"I like this one," Angelic murmurs, and then begins to rock gently from side to side.

My confusion lasts until I hear the music playing throughout the park. One of my hands is holding her head against my chest, the other is resting on her back. And because I don't want to let her go, I let myself swing with Angelic.

"And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime"

"And I'm sure you're that love of mine"

"Because I'm in a field of dandelions"

A year ago, if someone told me that I would get on a ferris wheel of my own free will, play target shooting – and not to complete a job, adopt a dog and end the night dancing, I would disbelieve. In fact, I would rebuff the idea.

But to the disbelief of many, including myself, here I am. And here I want to continue. I want to be where that woman and her ugly dog are.

"Wishing on everyone that you were mine"

"And I see forever in your eyes"

"I feel good when I see you smile"

We keep taking small steps to the side, almost imperceptible. I cling to Angelic, body and soul, and enjoy the sweet, cruel moment, knowing this is our last dance.