Baccano! - Volume 14 - Chapter 3.5

Interlude

Tips—A Couple the Night Before the Train’s Arrival

December 1931    A room in an old apartment building, somewhere in Little Italy

To Firo Prochainezo, a young gangster, the mood that night was a little different from usual.

The next day was December 31, the end of the year. That was part of it—but he would be greeting something else before the New Year.

During a certain incident a year ago, he’d made some friends.

They were a fairly odd couple by the name of Isaac and Miria.

From what he’d heard, they were on their way over from California, on the far western edge of the continent, on board the transcontinental express the Flying Pussyfoot.

“Sheesh. Digging for gold in California? I knew they were a couple’a loons way back when we first met, but why gold? Isn’t the gold rush already over? And didn’t they pan for the dust in the rivers?”

The baby-faced young man asking the questions was sitting in a spacious room.

The place was a rather drab one. It was large and neat, with an interior reminiscent of a decent hotel, but it seemed somehow lacking in character.

Although the apartment’s layout was luxurious for a single occupant, Firo had been living here by himself for the past few years. When he’d lost his mother to tuberculosis, he’d been forced to leave their old apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. He’d had to say good-bye to the neighbors, whom he’d been close to, and had been tossed out onto the streets of New York all on his own.

After that, he’d acquired a position in the Martillo Family, a gang, along with an income to match. The Martillos belonged to an organization called the Camorra, not the mafia, but society normally treated both criminal syndicates as identical.

In any case, while his job certainly wasn’t a reputable one, Firo Prochainezo had single-handedly earned the right to continue living in this apartment.

For a long time afterward, he’d spent lonely nights in this overly large space, but…

…at this point, he had a roommate around to answer his questions.

“They used to mine it in the mountains, and it sounds as though they found a shaft that once had a vein. If they’re expanding it, the possibility isn’t zero…although it is admittedly close to zero. I hear California has lapis lazuli veins at least, so I believe they’ll be able to keep themselves fed somehow.”

“Do they even need to keep themselves fed? They drank the liquor, so they wouldn’t starve to death anyway, right?”

“Well, no, the malnutrition wouldn’t render them completely immobile, but eating would certainly allow them to work more efficiently. And they would still feel hungry… Although I believe that experience may be subjective. I’m not human, but I can still feel starvation if I go without food for a long time. When I was with Szilard, he didn’t feed me when I didn’t need to accompany him, so I am somewhat accustomed to the feeling, but…”

The matter-of-fact explanation belonged to a young woman who looked to be about Firo’s age.

In contrast to Firo’s youthful appearance, she had a dignity about her that made her seem older. If they were side by side and somebody told a stranger that Ennis was Firo’s big sister, they probably would have believed it.

Firo’s eyes went wide as she touched on one of the more appalling experiences of her past.

“Oh no, I, uh, I didn’t mean to bring up those awful memories, Ennis. Sorry.”

“?”

The young woman was bewildered, as though she couldn’t understand why Firo was apologizing.

Her name was Ennis.

Although she appeared to be a young woman, technically, she wasn’t human.

While it did depend on how you defined human, she wasn’t a person, but a being that had been created as “something resembling a person.”

She had been born as a by-product of the research into the elixir of immortality, and up until the previous year, she’d been nothing more than a pawn of her creator, an alchemist named Szilard.

Yet—following a certain incident, she’d gained her freedom.

The one holding the thread of her life was the baby-faced young man in front of her.

Ennis had heard that he was a member of a gang that was based here in town, but she couldn’t criticize him for it. When she’d been under Szilard’s thumb, she’d committed plenty of crimes herself.

At first, Ennis had struggled to understand why the young man had set her free.

When he’d brought her to this apartment, she’d realized it was because he was kind. She remembered how he’d started on dinner without saying a word—and how he’d lit up with the joy of a little child when she had taken her first bite and approved of the taste. After that, she had no longer had any questions about the way he was treating her.

She had developed the unnecessary worry that she needed to repay his kindness, though.

She hadn’t caught on, you see.

In addition to his kindness, Firo had a truly personal ulterior motive.

Firo was far too backward about these things to help Ennis pick up on his feelings. She was lovely, but not sensitive to such matters.

After all, it had been over a year since he’d inherited Szilard’s relationship to her and they’d started living together—

—and not only had he not confessed his love to her or kissed her yet, he hadn’t even managed to hold her hand.

The young man was a late bloomer, and the young woman was slow on the uptake, but their life together was truly fulfilling.

The unsophisticated young man was happy just to have her there with him.

He only wanted her to be happy, and simply being in love with her was enough for him.

As long as the artless woman could see the young man smiling, she was satisfied.

After all, his smile seemed to be proof that it was all right for her to be there.

Although the pair’s feelings were completely different, they meshed together like a miracle—the simple honesty of children, and the scars inflicted by their past experiences.

Gradually, they were starting to understand each other: Ennis had begun to feel genuinely happy to have found a family in Firo—and Firo had begun to hope for some sort of development.

A few hours earlier An underground casino, somewhere in New York

“Hunh? What’d you say?”

The blunt question had come from a big man who was a full head taller than Firo.

Berga Gandor.

He was the second-oldest of the three brothers who ran the Gandor Family—a small, local mafia group—and he was a trusted childhood friend of Firo.

Since they had a common acquaintance coming into town the next day, they’d started to talk about going to meet him together, but after the chitchat, Firo had brought up something odd.

“Well, you know, you married Kalia the year before last, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What’s with the stuttering? Hey, did you fight again or something?”

“Shut up. None o’ your beeswax.”

Apparently he’d called it in one: As Berga responded, his eyes skated away.

Smiling wryly at his old buddy’s reaction, Firo asked about something he was pretty sure of already.

“I wanted to ask… How did you and Kalia end up getting married?”

“…What’s that supposed to mean? You sayin’ she’s too good for me? Is that where you’re going with this?! Huh?!”

Berga scowled, trying to intimidate him. Firo sighed and glared right back, not giving an inch.

“No way! That’s not what I’m talking about! I meant…uh, you know, when you brought up tying the knot… I just wanted to know how you did it,” Firo muttered, his voice shrinking as he went on.

With a sigh, Berga replied, “And here I was wondering what you were gonna say… Why come up with that now? You coulda asked all you wanted at the wedding, but now it’s too embarrassing. I can’t just up and tell you.”

“Yeah, I know, but back then I was too embarrassed to ask.”

“…Well, with me, Kalia’s the one who brought it up. ‘All right, then, let’s get married next month,’ she says, straight-faced. You think I could say no?”

“I see… So it was Kalia… That’s no help…”

As Firo muttered, Berga seemed to pick up on something. With a smirk on his stern face, he asked Firo a question, half ribbing him.

“What’s this all about anyway? Are you finally gonna propose to Ennis? I didn’t know you’d been takin’ her to bed— Hell, I didn’t even know you’d kissed her yet.”

At that, Firo’s youthful face went bright red, and he started yelling to cover up his mortification.

“Wha…?! Oh c-c’mon, lay off! You think that’s why I’m living with her?! Y-you think I’m sweet on her or something?!”

“Ain’tcha?”

“Uh… Well, I won’t say you’re a hundred percent wrong. I really did fall for her at first sight… But, uh, all that kissing and holding hands really should wait until after we, y’know, tie the knot. And she’s not even my girlfriend. We’re roommates. That’s all…”

Firo’s reaction was naïve—overly so—and Berga’s expression turned more serious.

“…Hey. Firo. Is the incident still getting to you?”

“Wh-what incident?”

Firo flinched, and Berga began matter-of-factly detailing the story.

“You know, back when you were a kid. That pervert thought you were a girl and snatched you, but Dad and Keith rescued you in the nick of time. Remember? Sounds like it’s still…”

“Wha—?! Tha…? No way in hell! And like I said before, I didn’t need help! I coulda gotten outta that all by myself, easy!”

“That’s not what Luck said. He says you take your time because you think men who take advantage of women are the scum of the earth…”

“L-Luck! That bastard! H-he’s full of shit, is what he is!”

As he protested, Firo’s voice went shrill. Watching him, his big childhood pal sighed, knowing he’d hit the nail on the head.

Then, as if he’d remembered, he dropped the name of the common acquaintance they were going to meet the next day.

“Take a page outta Claire’s book, wouldja? He’s been fallin’ for girls and proposing to ’em three seconds later for ages.”

“Are we sure he’s actually human? And that’s not the first time I’ve wondered.”

“Like you can talk? Him, or… Yeah, you could pick up a few things from those two dimwits.”

“Oh, Isaac and Miria?”

I bet they wouldn’t want to get called dim by this guy.

And yet the words he’d just heard struck him as a truly great idea, surprisingly.

He’d remembered how exceptionally close the couple had been, back when he’d met them.

If I could stop caring about this so much, Ennis and I could…

…hold hands, maybe…

Whoa, wait, is that— Is that allowed?

And what if Ennis doesn’t want to…?

“Hey, what’s the matter? Got a fever or something?”

“Huh? What?”

When he hastily looked up, he saw a tough man’s face that was worlds away from Ennis’s.

“Your mug is as red as a lobster, fella.”

“Oh, uh, no…”

Waving his hands in an attempt to throw him off the trail, Firo turned his back, as if he was running away.

“A-anyway, I’ll be meeting up with Maiza tomorrow before I head over, so if we’re lucky, we’ll see each other at the station.”

As the young guy climbed the stairs to the exit of the underground casino, plans for the next day and beyond were coming together in his mind, one after another.

It was, as far as Firo was concerned, the strategy of a lifetime for him and Ennis to get closer.

Once he was back at the apartment, Firo brought up that very subject with Ennis.

Apparently she was also planning to go meet Isaac and Miria, and Firo couldn’t have asked for a better setup.

“I see. In that case, meet up with Maiza and swing by my casino tomorrow. We’ll all head over together from there.”

“All right. I’ll leave from Alveare, then.”

When he heard Ennis’s simple answer, Firo mentally pumped his fist.

Nice. It’s been a long time since we went anywhere at all together, so this is already a success.

The hurdle he’d cleared had been a very low one, but it was enough to gratify Firo.

O-okay. Now we just need to go get Isaac and Miria.

Isaac and Miria… It’s not like I’ve known them for all that long, but I do know what they’re like.

They were always all over each other.

They’re bound to, you know, hold hands.

Isaac and Miria’s hyperactive figures rose over and over again in the young guy’s mind. Although they were doing things like holding hands or dancing in the middle of the street, his mental images were almost identical to things that had actually happened.

Then I’ll say, “Let’s you and me hold hands, too,” and take her hand.

As he thought of what was—in his mind alone—a perfect plan, Firo’s brain froze up.

……

Once we’re holding hands…wha…what am I supposed to talk about?!

Do I…tell her I like her? N-no, it’s still too soon for that, isn’t it?

No, wait, is it okay to hold hands before I’ve told her I like her?!

Dammit, it’s not like I can even ask anybody about this stuff…

Firo Prochainezo.

Up until now, he’d had virtually no experience with women, and so—

—he not only didn’t understand women’s hearts but didn’t know how to handle his own romantic feelings.

Was this good or bad?

It would be years—or rather decades—before he knew.

Several days later The speakeasy Alveare

“…”

Firo abruptly came to his senses.

A little while after the Flying Pussyfoot’s arrival, he realized he had been reflecting on the fact that he was setting up domino tiles.

What the heck am I doing?

That’s right: At the moment, he was lining up dominos.

As soon as Isaac and Miria arrived in New York, they’d started raving about being dominists and bought up a ton of dominos—

And now, inside Alveare, a modest domino craze was under way.

They used dominos separated by color to create various designs, then knocked them all down with the touch of a fingertip: the catharsis brought about by construction and destruction.

Firo had been engrossed in this task, but as if struck by a flash of inspiration, he remembered his reason for being there.

Oh, right. Ennis. I was going to…

I was gonna use Isaac and Miria as an excuse to develop my relationship with Ennis.

So why am I setting up dominos?

Oh yeah. What with Czes coming to stay with us, that kinda got lost in the shuffle.

Reflecting on his behavior and wondering what the heck he was doing at his age, he raised his head, intending to stop.

And right there, kneeling like he was and setting up tiles, was Ennis.

“…!”

“What’s the matter, Firo?” Ennis asked calmly.

Firo suddenly found something else to look at. “N-nah… I was just thinking it’s almost lunchtime. So, um, we should probably…”

He was about to ask her to have lunch with him, but in the next instant—

—a pair of voices butted in with no regard for Firo’s feelings at the moment.

“Hey, Firo! I heard from Pezzo and the fellas: You’re the president of a casino now?”

“Yes, cards! And slots! Roulette! Monopoly evenings!”

When he looked up, a man and woman were standing there, grinning freely.

Isaac and Miria’s eyes were sparkling, and Firo sighed as he answered them.

“No, I’m not the president… And what’s a Monopoly evening anyway?”

Whether or not they’d heard his question, Isaac and Miria began shaking Firo’s shoulders roughly from either side.

“Say, c’mon, take us there, would you?! I’ve always dreamed about being a gambler!”

“Yes, and you serve milk to children, right?! And then you dash it in your enemy’s face, right?!”

“You both cheat, and once you pick up on it, you shoot at each other!”

“Yes, if you lose, you get lead poisoning! If you win, they hang you! Both sides get punished for fighting!”

“We don’t have tables like the two-bit saloon counters in a Western.”

As Firo listened to the couple, he lost track of his plan again. It was a contradiction: As he watched the couple, the desire to be like them—or at least, to get a little closer to Ennis—got fainter and fainter.

Without even registering this change in his own mental state, Firo smiled wryly. “It is what it is, I guess… In exchange, don’t blame me if you lose your shirt.”

In the end, Firo got badgered into taking Isaac and Miria to the casino.

“See you later.”

When he turned around at the sound of the soft voice, Ennis was smiling.

Firo didn’t feel quite settled about all this, but that one smile from her was enough to dispel all the gloomy clouds in his heart.

Once again, the simple, innocent gangster smiled and thought, This is plenty good.

He believed that this situation, in which he was able to smile that way, was the greatest happiness there was.