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Sep. 10th, 2007
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tenwordstories
TM #195: Heros/Villains
Sep. 10th, 2007 11:20 pmThere’s a fine line between heroes and villains, so subtle sometimes you can't even see it. They may look the same, walk the same, talk the same, but there’s something inside that distinguishes them, separates the good and the bad within them.
But sometimes it’s not that simple. Hero and villain can be made to be one and the same.
Ray Vecchio lived a whole year of his life, a villain on the outside, hero on the inside. He’d learnt the latter quality from Benton Fraser, studied it you might say, studied him; learnt how to be good and do good from the examples Fraser set him. It had always been there, buried deep, hidden by brash offensiveness, loud clothes, and an even louder mouth. But Fraser, his friend, brought it out of him.
When he left Chicago, bound for the glit and grit of Vegas, it slipped back inside, obscured by expensive suits, smoking cigars and Scotch whiskey. The good had to be veiled beneath a layer of evil. Langoustini was all villain; it spread like wildfire, over Ray’s skin, in his teeth, between his toes, and as the months went by, the piece of good in him, the piece of Fraser and his old life got smaller and smaller, and pushed deeper and deeper until Ray wasn’t sure he could feel it anymore. That was when he wondered just what he was: hero or villain. Vecchio or Langoustini. Protector or murderer.
Sometimes he still wonders, but at least now, back in Chicago, he has Fraser to look to and remind him what it is to be good. He might not be a hero but he’s the closest thing to it that Ray will ever know.
But sometimes it’s not that simple. Hero and villain can be made to be one and the same.
Ray Vecchio lived a whole year of his life, a villain on the outside, hero on the inside. He’d learnt the latter quality from Benton Fraser, studied it you might say, studied him; learnt how to be good and do good from the examples Fraser set him. It had always been there, buried deep, hidden by brash offensiveness, loud clothes, and an even louder mouth. But Fraser, his friend, brought it out of him.
When he left Chicago, bound for the glit and grit of Vegas, it slipped back inside, obscured by expensive suits, smoking cigars and Scotch whiskey. The good had to be veiled beneath a layer of evil. Langoustini was all villain; it spread like wildfire, over Ray’s skin, in his teeth, between his toes, and as the months went by, the piece of good in him, the piece of Fraser and his old life got smaller and smaller, and pushed deeper and deeper until Ray wasn’t sure he could feel it anymore. That was when he wondered just what he was: hero or villain. Vecchio or Langoustini. Protector or murderer.
Sometimes he still wonders, but at least now, back in Chicago, he has Fraser to look to and remind him what it is to be good. He might not be a hero but he’s the closest thing to it that Ray will ever know.