A Gamblin’ Man
Fade in:
*The sounds of a gambling hall ensue. The likes of glasses clinking, overlapping chatter and chairs scraping can be heard all throughout the hall. One singular chair scrapes for the listener to hear distinctively. Cards snap and they are shuffled back into a full deck. Again, cards snap.
Gibson: looks like my table.
O’Leary: Oof, you smell like shit. Well damnit Gibson, you look like shit too. You been flossin with your ol’ lady’s underwhere again?
Gibson: No, I been on the road aga-
Oleary: You been on the road again? You been on the road since I started taking your coin. Tell you what, take a bill outa that stack there. It’s mine. I won all that today because I don’t get wrecked off juice at the break of dawn, like you. Go get you a bath and burn them clothes. You bringin down the class-a this’ ol joint. I don’t care much for that sort of thing.
Gibson: I’ll test my luck.
Oleary: Your show, my dough.
Dealer: *Clears throat. The game is 21 gentlemen.
Gibson:* Clinks glass, guzzles some booze.
Oleary: Hell, aint you had enough of that yet?
Dealer:
*Cards.
Two cent minimum gentlemen. A jack for you sir, and a two for you.
*Card.
An eight, Eighteen?
Oleary: Hold.
Dealer:
*Card.
A 5 of diamonds. Seven.
Mc: Hit me.
Dealer: A king of spades. Seventeen.
Gibson: Hit.
Dealer: Queen of hearts.
*Flips cards.
I'm sorry sir, 18 and house, 20 beats your bust.
Oleary: Well, why-ja go and fuck that one up? You don’t know what you are doing, do ya? Pay up Gibson.
Gibson: Oleary, I ain’t got it on me until later-
Oleary: What-chu say to me boy?
*Chair scrape.
We cross?
Gibson: No, no, no. I’ll pay interest. I promise.
Oleary: Get out-a here Gibson…
*hardwood boots/ door swing/ wood steps/ dirt footsteps.
Oleary: Gibson! Compliments of the house.
*Sucker punch, scuffling, kicks, spits.
Oleary: Should have taken the coin.
…
I was beaten so bad, I was bedridden for more than a week. Several ribs, my right hand. Before the bones could even begin to heal, I fought a fever. The likes of which took my ma away from her duties and money out of my old man’s pocket for medicine. I don’t remember much while tossing and turning during those days, but I do remember overhearing my folks speak to each other in the other room.
I did a number on them this time. More than when I sold my ma’s broach pendant. It was a family heirloom. I didn’t know, but in all honesty, I did need the money. I needed it.
I got yelled at. I’ve been yelled at before though. I could handle a good yelling. It doesn’t quite hurt as much as being spoken about behind your back. It cuts deep. I heard talk about sending me to fight in the war. Dad said he failed at making me a man.
You don’t know my dad. He doesn’t admit to failure, he doesn’t cry, pa just does as he does. But when he says something, he means it. So when I heard about how I might be sent to die, I came up with some apology the next morning. I really didn’t wanna see Ma cry anymore.
I knew it to be true. I was sick. Always lookin for the next big win at the casino, or that cheap moonshine my buddy bill made that could make you go blind. I learned quick from that one though. True story by the way.
I loved partying. The ladies, the fights, the indescribable feeling of winning big. The highs always so high. But the lows. Mine were lower than lows. It often felt like they outweighed the downs… In the moment anyways. Then the next day, you are in debt, people lookin for you… Darlene breaks your heart.
Maybe it did need to stop.
I sat there broken inside and out, with the dry wind wailing against my bedroom’s rusty loose window. My lips had been busted in more places than one. They were the last of my worries in terms of long term healing, but the skin constantly broke at the dryness of the room. In some ways it was the worst part.
I couldn’t get up to give myself a glass of water if I wanted to. All I could do is think. And, my head isn’t the best place to be one hundred percent of the time. As I sat there and stared at the ceiling, the only thing I could stare at, and I decided. “I needed to start anew.” My dear uncle had a lumber camp up north in Clarkton. I figured a change would be good. New friends, new town, new me. I would only be bettering myself in the long run. Some sunshine would do me good, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Anything was better than this. This was one of those life changing decisions, and it was my turn to take responsibility and step up to the damn plate.
When I felt good enough to make my way to the dinner table, I made my decisions clear to everyone. My folks were so used to my excuses. Where they had heard another shitty apology, I had considered it testament to a new way in my life. Their blank expressions and recognizable eyes would have typically gotten me upset. Instead, I had an honest moment with myself. Maybe they weren’t just feeling a sense of disappointment. Maybe it was also pity. I would have normally gotten upset normally, but something inside of me was changing. Or maybe my brain was bleeding, I don’t know. Whatever it was, my decision was made.
So, the next morning, I kissed my ma and even surprised my pa with a sturdy handshake, promising him that I would return a grown man. I was met with skeptical eyes, but forgiving ones at that. Anything was better than losing a limb to a searing cannon ball at this point. Hell I’d seen it. There is nothing more sobering than seeing an old best friend with no legs.
I caught the first ticket out of town that I could. It was immediate work after that. My uncle was more honest than my dad if you can imagine that. My father was as stoic as a weathered sailor and he as understanding as a lighthouse keeper. Every time uncle Joe visited, I wished that I could grow up to be more like him. Instead, I was left with my father. The complete opposite. I was excited to see him, but knew he would also mean business.
I imagine any sort of letter my folks were planning on sending had arrived quicker than I did, so I made an effort to present myself as modestly as I could. I imagine the letter entailed the likes of my foul business and a permission to discipline me if necessary. My uncle didn’t need any permission. He always had a paternal quality to anybody that surrounded him. That being said, if he decided to discipline me, it wouldn’t be a yelling like my dad would give me, it would be a beating that would put O’Leary’s masterful work of art to shame.
Uncle Joe put me to work at his lumber camp on the outskirts of town almost immediately. And, it was grueling. I developed blisters on my hands the first day even though I was wearing gloves. I changed my grip with every tool multiple times to compensate with the pain. But, by the end of the first week, it felt like I had developed blisters over every inch of my hands.
I got laughed at a little by the some of the fellas. But, I also made good friends with anyone who used a crosscut saw with me. You sorta had to. See for big trees, you had to use one of those two man saw’s. You know, just like the ones in cartoons. There is nothing in the world that is more teambuilding than getting into the groove of one of those damned things.
…
After the jawjackin for the first few weeks, we were all mostly fellas, I guess. But for the most part, I decided on taking my shifts with Liam and Lucas. Them two brothers had been workin with my uncle the longest. And, we got along just fine.
Both of them were Christian boys. Well, mainly Liam. His younger brother Lucas was a bit like me. Believed in it just enough to go once every Easter with the family. Other than that, I was fighting and pulling at my bedsheets every Sunday. Maybe if I had gone with my folks more, they would have cut me a little slack. But that’s all in the past at this point.
Anyway, Luke and I, we was always pullin pranks on Liam. Who, was more of an honest worker than the two of us put together. But, I imagine, him makin us look lazy on the job, he must have seen it comin from a mile away. The pranks stopped for a little while when the two got into a fight at work one day. Not an ordinary one punch sibling bicker either, a real fight. I had to get in between them, catching a hand or two from both sides in the process of it all. After things settled, they sort of had a kind of respect for me. They treated me like maybe another brother after that day, or at least a really close friend.
So, it wasn’t any surprise that I got invited out with them on a few occasions. Luke liked shooting guns and huntin. Beer was involved. I avoided it. Liam introduced me to his family and took me on a blind date at some fancy restaurant. “Kensington’s.”
Owned by Grant Kensington. Of Kensington Heights. Some rich asshole with a name. Who I had been quickly learning about. I’d been seeing this GK symbol on everything… Grant Kensington. The letter G squarely framed a backwards gold colored K on the insignia. It was on the town library, on the front of the school. I even think there was a statue or two with the name etched into a plaque. You get the picture. Grants daddy’s daddy built this place. I hate rich people.
The dinner was fine. The establishment was top notch and I felt like I had been spending money just standing in the lobby… It was a nice, but, I just could not figure the difference between the various fork sizes for the life of me.
The waiter brought us our menu and began listing off house specialties and recommendations. At the mention of Porterhouse Steak, my mouth watered a bit. I’ll admit, it had been quite some time away from home where livestock was aplenty. So I ordered a juicy steak and was brought another long napkin to drape across my lap called a serviette. They took all of the forks and knives that I already considered confusing, and brought me a two pronged fork and knife that outweighed everyone else’s utensils by what seemed like a pound or two. Maybe I was the only one that felt awkward about this, because nobody batted an eyelash or stopped conversation to look at the equipment that was lugged out of the kitchen a moment ago and was now set on the table.
But I didn’t want to make a thing of it since clearly nobody cared. I bolstered my hesitant conversation with light comments and lame jokes. I felt better after I detected total normalcy in the table chatter. I just wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Not just the utensils, everything.
When my food came, my steak basically came without instructions attached. I made a joke about exactly that, and everybody laughed. Especially my date across the table. She cupped her mouth and thought it cute, which is what I was going for.
For a moment, it made me feel good that I can be open with people who would be understanding of my differences. it wasn’t that way back home. This place was… cultured, I guess.
And, that stupid joke, it was sort of the highlight of the evening for me. And, it sort of allowed me to eat my food however I wanted for the time being. But I gotta admit, boy did I. I wasn’t sure whether it was the price we paid, crappy bread they gave before the main entrée, or my anxiety, but that might have been the best damned steak I had ever eaten. It came out of the kitchen on cart with an aroma I’m confident everyone in the entire restaurant could smell. By the looks of it, it had only been turned twice on a low flame and the tenderness… I don’t know why they brought had so many different knives in this place if you can cut a steak like this with a spoon and butter knife. It had been wheeled out of those double doors on a silver platter with garnishes on the side of the plate, a single potato sprinkled with goat cheese next to some steamed broccoli, that looked plain, but somehow tasted nothing less than extraordinary. The silver platter thing was a first for me. so were the two mystery sauces that thry brought for my steak. One white and the other red. I had never eaten my steak with sauces, or as rare as they had brought it to me. But…GOD! My mother, bless her soul, she had nothing on this cook.
I wiped my face with an embroidered napkin with the GK symbol on it. I was stuffed. When everyone finished, Liam and I were brought brandy and the gals were brought house wine. For the most part, I was having a good time, but couldn’t knock the feeling that maybe I wasn’t ready to fit right into this type of environment. It just wasn’t me.
Forks aside, stupid jokes and smiles can only get you so far in a place like this. I felt out of place regardless of the new suit I bought for the occasion. It felt like more of a costume than anything if I’m being quite honest. I'm still not totally sure if my date had seen right through this, or if I had been thinking about it too hard. Either way, I didn’t feel right about it. The night passed and I let the memory slip into the recess of my mind as I made effort to sleep off my overthinking.
…
After goofin around the next day at work, Luke gave me the slip about a party on the west side of town that weekend. When he said it was a family reunion. I raised an eyebrow, as if to say “Am I allowed to go to your family reunion”, he responded with “I don’t know whose party, I just plan on crashing it with my cousin Ernie”. That was more like Luke
He laughed and Liam interjected. “When you gonna quit hangin out with that moron, he ain’t nothing but bad news and you know that.” He gave me his best convincing glare while finishing off the last of a log that he was chopping.
He let his ax drop to the side and he shoved the last of the tin can of chewing tobacco into his lip. He started toward us. “Ernie is barely even a cousin. Hell we wouldn’t even have met each other if it wasn’t for him goin to the same school as us. That whole side of the family is real messed up.”
Luke ignored his big brother mere feet away at this point. He used a confident voice that let me know he hadn’t heard a word that was just said. “Should be darn fun. I hear a local band is going to be playin. And with me around, all the girls won’t even notice how ugly you are. I guarantee you get laid?
I flipped him off and threw a pinecone in his direction. “Fuck off.”
Luke: “Ok, fine... We will get you a guy you can fuck.”
I laughed and Liam nodded at the both of us, walking away and muttering something under his breath. He raised his voice from a mutter to words that we can both hear. “Y’all be careful on the west side of town. Luke you know damn well. Don’t be out all night.”
Curiosity took a grasp. “What’s he-” I got cut off before finishing.
Luke: “Tall tales. No need to get your panties in a twist. Some folks worry about one of the churches that stepped away from the conventional outlook on things you may consider a normal religion. Liam is just a church freak, that’s all.” He raised his voice loud enough so that he could hear. Liam didn’t bite through. He just took a long disappointed look in our direction. Which was worse. Reminded me of my damned parents. He wasn’t much older than me, but in that moment, I sure felt a lot younger.
Our lunch break ended and we all got back to work. The rest of the day passed pretty quick. I had been up in my head working out what my choices were. I knew what a night out had been in the past. But things had changed for the better for me. I had become a new person. Every day I worked out here in these woods, I felt I changed just a little more every time. I wondered if by the time I came back home, my folks would even recognize me. I also wondered if maybe going back home should have even been in the list of foreseeable choices that the future may hold.
I decided I was up for walking at least one mile in my new shoes. I gave Luke my thumbs up at the end of the day and his response was to give a loud wooping holler and slap my ass harder than hell. I put dirt in his sandwich and watched as he took a bite of it on the walk back toward town. He sputtered a brown cloud and spit out small rocks. It literally couldn’t have gone better if I wanted it to. Surprisingly, Liam laughed pretty hard when he saw that I had replaced a bag of potato wedges with long twigs and branches.
…
That evening I put on a dress shirt but decided against my jacket and slacks. If there would be any card play, I wanted to look half decent. That’s the trick anyway. You don’t wanna look like the type of sucker with too much money.
I looked in the mirror rather proud of myself. This was quite a step up from where I had been no more than half a year ago. My parents would probably be proud. Or surprised. I don’t really know.
I asked my uncle if I could borrow his car, but was met with a single question. “Where was I going?” I had honestly not even thought about what would happen should this question arise. Uncle knew about my past. He was my boss and my family.
Instead of being honest and telling him that I felt confident with my newly gained responsibilities and could handle a party, I cowardly settled on a cheap lie. “I think I left some of the equipment at the lumber site. I didn’t feel very good about lying, but I wasn’t going to miss out on a little fun with Luke.
Whatever lie, I genuinely believed I deserved this. I was beginning to feel like my own man now. But I would have to come clean about this eventually. I knew that, just didn’t wasn’t to think about it as much as I already was.
I thought to myself, it would be easy enough to take an apology, Right? Being that I was dressed the way I was, even wearing cologne. I was practically one foot out the door. "Uncle Joe, I wasn’t about to head off for bed at p.m. 7 dressed like this.” Hell, maybe he knew I was lying. He was young once and the man was probably prepared to learn about my classic M.O’s
I picked up Lucas and we drove into the twilight of the evening, heading towards the west side of town. By the time Luke had finished with his top 10 reasons on why my cologne smelled like shit, 10 being that it reminded him of the last time he at Mexican food, we had pulled up to a dumpster fire of a building. The neighborhood seemed nice enough however. But the house, the house looked like shit.
We walked through the front yard where I’m assuming the man that waved us through the front gate was the father of someone heavily involved in tonight’s activities. He had a proprietary stance about him. Maybe the home owner, so I put on my best smile. We shook his hand and Luke said that we were friends of Jane. I made an all too obvious glance at Luke, and he told me to shut up with his eyes. We walked passed and Luke told me “there was always a Jane”. The man drew a long breath from a corncob pipe that lit up his face, his eyes still trained on our faces.
The front yard had several other guests that payed no attention as we walked through. Luke and I strolled across yellow unkempt grass and through a hand carved door that had probably been constructed before my folks were even born. The handle was missing.
Luke’s cousin Ernie came out of a dimly lit hallway arms open, surprising both of us and giving Luke a tight hug. “Cousin!” I was introduced, and for a quick moment realized that this man had resembled Luke in more ways than one. He looked and acted like him with gestures and jokes throughout the night. I always thought my friend was the life of the party. I was wrong. It was Ernie. Nothing could taint that laugh and smile.
Ernie walked us to the back yard where a half drunk uncle had been sweating over BBQ. I grabbed a plate and was suddenly spoon fed booze by my new forced friend. Who kept saying things to me like “Get on my level!” and “I can drink more than you!” I was just about ready to rip one of my ears off when I was passed by three young ladies that gave me the eye. That’s when I cut things short. I made haste by pouring one more drink and slamming it with drunk uncle in a flourish, as if to say, well I’m on your level, I’m gonna go now.
Ernie finished with his loaded plate just in time to yank me from Uncle and introduce me to the gals… as well as about 13 other occupants that lived in the already cramped three-bedroom house. I mean, it was no surprise by the looks of the house. It had really been falling apart, but everyone seemed happy. Something about it made me look back on some of the things Liam had said.
Where I had once been doubting my life actions in the gawdy bathroom mirror at Kensington’s, now I was in a place that probably didn’t even have a mirror in it. I was quite content with things in the moment. I just had to keep my cool and my wits about me tonight. If I could make it through the night without messing something up, I would know, now I had total self control. Like, a test of sorts.
But, I gotta say, this was probably the most relaxed I had been since I stepped into town. Between my uncle and Liam at work, I was never able to completely let my hair down. I wasn’t judged here. Like, at all. And, I didn’t feel out of place one bit. I was overdressed if anything.
I sat down at a table with one of the gals, Annie. They were playing poker. And, I could tell, she didn’t have a clue how to play. I based this assumption on the way she was holding her hand. Everyone at the table could practically grab a glance if they were so inclined to. If they didn’t, well, they didn’t know how to play cards either.
I pulled up a chair and smiled at her, taking a sip from her own cup. She gave me a dashing sly grin. Her eyes glistened a bit at my arrogance. I knew what I was doing.
After the first game of back and forth flirtatious instruction with Annie, I decided to join in for a bit, thinking that a little competition would bring a feisty spark to our table conversation. It didn’t.
Instead, I became enveloped in the game. I threw cash and put on my face.
I bargained with myself after a few games about what the choices of my night could unfold to be. It had been one of those “now or never” situations. But my window with Annie passed as quickly as it came. I took one too many sips out of her cup and I think I may have called her Jane at some point. Pretty fitting for my night though.
I reflected on it for only a second before I took in another hand. She didn’t seem like the type that you introduce to your folks to anyway. And, maybe I would find her walking around later. Yeah, I’d do exactly that. After my first few wins, I’d call it quits, find her and we could pick up where we left off.
The more I thought on it, the harder it was to concentrate. In no time at all, I had spiraled into a losing streak. It brought on an ill temperament the more I had to hand over my hard earned cash. But I just needed to win it back. I needed to…
From the corner of my eye, I had seen Annie eyeing my struggle as I spat out some rather colorful words. The face she made at my behavior was nothing short of the biggest turn off in world history. I was a walking red flag. So I drank more.
The party had grown and Luke stumbled to my table, drawing a chair then subsequently falling into it. Luke sat-in on the game and made his best attempt not to irk the other players by stalling with drunken conversation.
The table nearly emptied when Luke yelled across the patio to someone. It had been our waiter from the fancy restaurant. He was still in work attire by the looks of it too. As soon as he noticed both of us, he made his way right over, making himself at home by pouring himself a glass of whatever I had been pouring down my throat.
I drunkenly spewed, “Hey, I know you, you are the waiter guy from yesterday.”
“That’s right amigo, and you are drunk.” He said through a laugh as he padded my back with a few firm strikes.
Called himself Nate. Nate chatted me up for a little, while Luke slumped over and puked a little in some roses.
I don’t know why, but he was rather intrigued with the town that I grew up in, stating that it was so far away from where I was now. “I would be scared to be alone out here if I were you” he said to me.
He asked about my folks. I told him they sort of didn’t care too much for me at the moment. And then Nate got me more drunk, if that was ever possible. My words slurred and I had hit a point of no return. Next thing I know, I had stumbled into the restroom and was vomiting. When I came out I ran into Annie and apparently made a disgusting attempt to get her in bed. I must have been making the whole house uncomfortable, because Luke came up to me and pulled me away… To get another drink.
We were practically holding each other up when I started to notice a thinning in the crowd. The night had taken a stranglehold on me. I had lost nearly all of my money, embarrassed myself in front of a pretty girl, and now I had to explain to my uncle that I wasn’t able to drive his car back because I couldn’t walk in a straight line to save my life. I might have cried if it weren’t for Luke being in my presence.
In a haze of double vision someone had placed a plate in front of me at the table I was sitting at. It was Nate. “Here eat this, I brought it from work. It’s the least I can do after wiping the floor with you earlier.” He said. “You gotta eat something my friend. You are gonna pass out amigo.”
I glared down at what he had served me. It was another steak. Bloody as hell. Or rare if you wanna call it that. I would rather call it bloody as hell. But he was right. I was gonna pass out cold if I didn’t get something in me.
I slurred, “Where do you guys keep your cows around here?” He laughed at this. “Look amigo, you don’t wanna be around here at this hour. Eat that and get your ass home.” I did. Hell, I would have eaten it if I didn’t need to. How could I pass another slice of heaven up? This town had some of the best food I ever tasted. I said with a mouth full of chow.
I looked over at Luke passed out on the chair next to me and figured I didn’t have to wake him. He was family at this house. Or at least silver tongued enough to pretend he was. I wasn’t really sure at this point. But, I was just some guy who was new to town. I needed to leave or risk a talking from that corn cobb pipe smoking man. This town was small enough to where he probably even knew my uncle.
“Luke could get a ride back from someone here, right?” I said to the waiter, who was nowhere to be seen.
I tipped Luke’s hat over his eyes and shouldered my jacket on. I guess the door stays open all the time in this place. It didn’t have a doorknob, so I didn’t mind not closing it. I walked past two people passed out on the lawn and thanked god I hadn’t ended up like them. Still, I gotta admit to myself, the night got out of hand. “This is NOT how I wanted things to go.”
The walk home was going to be a long one. Hopefully a sobering one if I was lucky. Gas lamps had gone out already and there was a new moon tonight. So, almost no light whatsoever. Some stars, but not many. My eyes adjusted as much as they could. But, under the shade of trees, I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face.
I was beginning to regret my choices. Even though I had been somewhat urged to partake in most of the drinking, I had also been stupid enough willing drink. Exceedingly. And gamble on my own volition. I had the option to be with that beautiful girl. Instead I embarrassed myself in front of everyone. Oh god.
I began to beat myself up on this. The best course of action was to apologize to my uncle. Just come clean. He might be harsh. Maybe even kick me out. But I think he would at least keep me employed. It’s tough, mixing family and business.
“Shit, where am I?” I looked around for a street sign or some sort form of light. There was nothing. “I know I’m on a road. Gonna just keep walki-.”
I tripped on something. If I wasn’t still drunk, I could have caught myself.
“I deserved that”
I felt around a bit, in the darkness, still on the ground, sulking at everything that happened tonight. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get out of this one.”
Two flat bars embedded into the ground came up under my right hand. And then another two by my left hand.
“Train tracks!”
I could probably follow them. I’d be moving in a slightly backward direction, but I would come across a station eventually.
“The trolley runs through this neighborhood. I've seen it or...” I looked the other way. “It was the right direction” … but it was pure darkness down there. I wouldn’t be able to tell up from down.
I stood up and began along the tracks, careful not to deviate. Or trip. I almost tripped a few times. Somewhere after 15 minutes of stumbling, I heard music in the distance.
“At this godly hour?”
It must have at least been four o’clock. Though, I wouldn’t have any way of telling. I sort of felt like I should have already seen the slight break of sun in the clouds. But I saw nothing. I only heard music and laughter. It was another party. Probably with booze and gambling. Not my strong suit right now. I’m smart enough to know that. But I don’t really have an option. Because, backtracking at this point would only get me lost further, and that street looks like it goes on forever. With absolutely zero light. I orientated myself toward the sound and then put one sloppy foot after the other.
“I would find someone with a trusting face, ask for directions and head directly home. I could use the back entrance of my uncles or maybe slip through a window? Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad tomorrow if he didn’t hear me get in.”
The music grew louder. I'm close.
I deviated from the railroad tracks onto a slightly visible cobblestone road. The only way I was able to tell is by a singular very distant gas lamp. There was a house. A really big one at that. The orange light coming from the lamp shown a truly ornate gaudy house with a large back yard that had a few lamps of their own. I spied several well-dressed patrons sitting by a statue, and then a few more walking round a large water fountain. A good portion of the yard was hedge, maybe a maze, the other half from what I can tell, looked quite like a small vineyard. I'm not sure how I was going to go about introducing myself in this state of dishevelment. I knew for a fact my breath as vile as can be, and that the state of my clothes weren’t very fitting for attending a party such as this one. but at least I had a visual target now. A place with light, and with any glimmer of hope, directions home. I tucked in my shirt where there had been crusted over vomit from earlier.
There were three expensive cars parked along a wraparound driveway. The hedges look like they were trimmed for the occasion and people I saw in the upstairs window were dressed lavishly. A woman in a tight red dress and a gentleman in a tuxedo who sported the dangling chain of a probably truly expensive pocket watch danced with each other. Not a care in the world.
I met the driveway and looked up at a gold wrought iron insignia bridged across the entrance gate. “GK. Grant Kensington? I sure picked a hell of a place to get directions.” I opened the gate.
I rang the bell and a gorgeous blonde woman wearing a gold dress answered the door. Even prettier than the red dress upstairs. I spoke quickly to prevent my jaw hitting the floor. “Hi, um, I'm a little l-lost. I was hoping to get directions. S-sorry to interrupt your party.”
A gal in black, clacked dress shoes into the room causing the two to meet eyes. An unspoken conversation was had and the woman wearing black proceeded to walk out, giving me a not-so-subtle up-down. Gold and blonde met my face as she curled her lips into a half smile.
“Look, I probably shouldn’t have come here, I-”
“Come with me.” She spoke. Ringing me in with a hypnotic finger that she swayed back and forth.
I did. Without question. But it felt odd. Rich folks hate people like me. Don’t they? I shrugged it off and reminded myself that this im not back home. This is Clarkton after all. Typically, they could smell poverty and even middle class like myself from a mile away. But, YOU DO NOT tell a woman with that sort of look on her face no.
She led me to the dance room where that lady in the red and the man in the nice vest were now sitting on a couch smoking long cigarettes. They both drank in a deep look at me, nearly leaning in to it. Not a skeptical look. Rather curious, but odd nonetheless. Both of them smiled and nodded in my direction. Which was unsettling to say the least. Not only did it feel weird to be right in the middle of a social class breach, but their smiles… they both seemed to have smiled in unison a very shaky grin. Like physically, they were shaky. Not nervous so much, but almost overwhelmed with jitters or palsy. And their teeth. Their teeth, and eyes, yellow.
“Would the guest care for a Brandy before meeting our host?” I broke my now defensive gaze at her question.
“No. Thank you.” She turned away from my statement toward the bar anyway.
“Warm milk, perhaps?
“No thank you, very much. No thanks.”
“Oval-”
“I’ll- I’ll take the Brandy.” She turned toward the bar as I muttered under my breath. “One drink and I’m out of here.”
The last thing I need is another drink, but if it’s a forced rite of passage around here… Ugh, that went down weird. “Just like Gasoline and slimy broccoli” I chuckled. No reaction.
I tried to keep my face to from disgust, but it was as if she was waiting for a reaction. “haven’t had brandy for a while.” Clearly a lie. She stared, pursed her lips and looked at my face as though just now seeing it in full light for the first time. Candle light had nothing to do with this stare. But speaking of which, there wasn’t much light but a few candles. Even so, I would be lying to you if I told you I didn’t feel a little exposed at that stare. I wouldn’t call myself a lady’s man, but I have my moments, more than others I might add. I'm not hideous by any means either, but, in the moment, that woman scared the shit out of me.
I set my glass down all to quick and she quickly slipped in a little more of that gross swill into my glass all without breaking her stare. If I had been practicing that finishing gesture that I used with uncle earlier, I might have gotten away with slipping in a question or two of my own. Like, is this really Grant Kensingtons place, or why the hell did that brandy make my breath smell like tree sap?
I looked back at the couple on the couch who had now engaged in their own private conversation and felt that the few oil lamps around the room were beginning to dim slightly. Or was that just me? I palmed the bottom of my stool and swiveled carefully back into the direction at Blonde, who was now closer to me than when I had somehow taken my attention off of her. I looked down and saw that she had procured a dish of what appeared to be sirloin.
“Why don’t you eat up? I’ll go gather someone who knows the area… What part of town do you live in? her voice lilted at the question.
“By-by the lumber camp.”
“Very well, don’t you move a muscle.” She said slowly.
I wouldn’t have, but something happened just as she walked out of the room. A burst of pain in my side. And yes, the room was dimming because of me, not the lamps. I've felt this once before. This wasn’t your average drunken stupor. I had been doused with drugs! And I needed them out! Right now!
I lifted off with my left foot causing my stool to clatter over on its side. My right hand that dragged over the countertop brought with it that expensive gaudy decanter as well as that glass of Mickey she served me.
I don’t know how else to say this, the couple didn’t stir one bit. They had been perfectly still, watching the event unfold. If wind had hit them at that moment, their clothes would be flapping on unmoving and completely still bodies. I felt their eyes on me through the most animalistic instincts that my melting brain could muster.
I tried to keep concentration on my walk by picking each step as deliberately as I could. I’ve done this before. But out of the corners of my periphery, I could see. They were smiling that yellow fucking smile at me! The gentleman proceeded to shakily stand and, just, take in the sight of me wobbling to some random door in the house.
I don’t know how long he was staring, but I certainly know he didn’t follow me around the corner. Because that’s when I opened a closet door and then turned to go up a spiral staircase. He was nowhere in sight.
I tasted blood in the back of my throat and felt part of my right hand go numb. I was still grappling with the railing and succeeding, but felt close to nothing after my wrist.
I fell into the first door and was met with a porcelain bowl just feet away. I RAMMED my damn hand as far as I could down my throat and gave way to whatever was in that drink, almost immediately feeling better. I scooped water into my face and managed as much as I was able to into my body.
Then, I listened…
I heard guests down a large hall but not within my immediate proximity. My hand had regained some feel as I reached out and ambivalently turned a brass door knob. My heart was throbbing and I could practically hear the sound of the mechanical clicks of the door in my chest.
The coast was clear. I grabbed some wall and sleuthed distance between me and the shaky couple downstairs.
If I found a window in one of these rooms, I could use a drainpipe to shimmy down. Maybe a trellis with some vine growing on it. “Yeah, I think I saw one of those.”
I heard footsteps and grabbed onto the next door, swiftly moving through as quickly and quietly as humanly possible. I waited until the footsteps receded and then finally turned backward to look at an ornate assortment of foods, tables and wine.
I once read that if you have a stomach ache, eating burned toast would soak up any of the bacteria or toxins in your body. There wasn’t any burned toast, but there was more of that roast I was served downstairs. I took in a savory piece of meat that wasn’t as charred as I would have liked it to be, but I was okay with that. I took another bite and breathed in its aroma through my mouth and felt the first piece work warmly through my body. It was delightful.
There were people after me, but I didn’t regret the third and fourth bite at all. It was like pure butter. I forced in some sense and ducked behind a table liner for the last bite. I needed to keep my head in the game. I felt it move all the way down just like the very first wholesome bite. Exactly what I needed. I almost had full feeling in my hand despite the fact that I had only taken a sip from that poison shit mere moments ago.
I heard commotion. There were footsteps and voices downstairs. I heard a new deep voice turn into a question. Someone had spoken up. They were looking for me. I needed an out. like, now.
I took my attention away from the door to drink in my surroundings and saw a hefty hand carved cane leaning against a coatrack. I picked it up. More sound…
I turned off two oil lamps and looked out the window. No trellis. But, there was another door. I moved through before the voices grew any louder.
Complete darkness. To my relief, the sound of any alerted voice and mingling down the other upstairs hall had faded at the close of the door. What I did hear in the room with me wasn’t less unsettling however… There was something in the room with me.
I heard a faint muffled moaning in the room with me. Someone had been injured… Or drugged. Maybe by one of these psychos downstairs! I certainly would have made that sound if I didn’t make my way to the restroom in time.
I procured matches from my chest pocket and struck one with my hands extended into the air. The room filled with an orange glow.
What I saw next.. What I saw, made me more petrified than any drugged cocktail or stricken chilling weather could ever have done to me. It was the proprietor of the house. None other than Grant Kensington, with eyes as bright, wide and yellow as a full moon. Staring at me. With a set of lower intestines draped from his mouth. His victim, drug induced, eyed me through tears unable to move, but able to see… It was pure pain. The pure fucking horror in her eyes, I will never forget. I was bearing witness to someone being eaten while still alive. And my face, that this was the last thing she might ever see.
She let out a drawn out helpless, tired and frightened moan. Their pose remained still the entire time… then my match burned out. There was scrambling immediately!
I wrestled with the door as footsteps fiercely proceeded in my direction. Out of instinct, I whipped that cane right through the thick pitch black air and made contact with something that immediately met with the hardwood floor.
My eyes, practically as wide as the ones I just caught glimpse of were now looking for an exit quick and now recklessly. I ripped down the stairs where I came from and cocked my arms up to give those shaky fucks a run for their money.
*Thump
I brought the cane handle down hard! Again and again. Until a fine pulp was left at my shoes. The only reason why I had stopped is because the people who had once been mingling across the upstairs hall, had heard something. No less than ten pale faced individuals leered. They now looked down at me from the railing in silence, shaky and yellow eyed. With hunger.
I didn’t wait. I swiftly jumped over the now pulpy puddle of blood and flew out the front door, hearing the crowd on my heels, no more than five feet behind me. They were hot on my trail. I could hear them, foaming at the mouth and hitting the gravel beneath their feet with uneven footsteps. They were out for me. They wanted me!
I ran until my throat burned. I ran until I tasted that drink again. I ran until I tasted blood. I ran clean out of my shoes. And I ran after I couldn’t hear them chasing me anymore. I ran until I was familiar with my surroundings, and then I ran to my uncle’s house and directly into his door, breaking it down. There he sat in his blue armchair, in the dim light of a single candle, watching me pant right into a dream.
…
But it wasn’t a dream of course, it was a nightmare. A nightmare of epic proportions, which included the rewitnessing of the event macabre that yours truly had undergone. But, my dear listener, it was also liberation too. Any whimsical phantasm that could be had, was not close to the one I had just in fact… lived.
…
The next morning came and I was asked nothing of my whereabouts. I was simply given silence. And what I did with that silence was, regret. That I ever left the house that evening. That I ever did take that first sip of hooch at my neighbors New Year’s party in the woods.
I understood that nod from my uncle more clearly than if he had spoken his discord to me. Although I can doubt the veracity of my uncles reserved knowing all I want, the fact of the matter is, it was his way of raising me. I never asked. Knowing rights from wrongs was his expectation, and he would tolerate nothing less. It’s the sort of man he was.
If I had to make out what that nod meant that evening, it would have told me that I had run into the town secret. I guess every town has one. I'm not sure if I stumbled upon a rumor that proved to be true, or something everybody already knew to be true. And I didn’t care to ask, because. There is one thing I learned from that night. To keep my head down. If I had opened my mouth, I might be met with a straightjacket or a maybe a quiet nod, just like the one I had received. Hell, maybe someone would believe me. But I doubt there would be anything done about it. I just had a hard time believing that such a well-heeled family like the Kensington’s being charged with more than a noise complaint.
One more regret. Some time went by and it eventually got to me. I gave in and vaguely mentioned to Luke and Liam that I maybe had walked right into a weird Kensington party. Just to see if anyone would bite. I gave no indication of it having been more than a sidetrack on my walk home that evening. Luke seemed intrigued, but Liam walked right away and pretended that he heard nothing. but I know he heard everything. His expression was a reminder. It was an example that I needed to follow. I stopped midway through my sentence, “never mind”. Luke called me a rip-off. I shrugged and changed the subject. That was the first, and only time I had ever spoken about my night at the Kensington’s.
Things did change for me. I actually think I underwent what some people call a rock bottom. You know, the life changing moment that you bring on yourself due to bad habits? Well that was it. I thought it had been back home, but I was wrong. That was in fact my rock bottom. Yep, getting drugged and almost eaten alive did it for me. See, I was in the wrong game and was tired of getting dealt the wrong hand, and playing it every time. I lose control when I'm on the booze and just can’t handle it. I'm a changed person now, and rather happy for the most part.
I also decided that Clarkton was home for now. I eventually bought a house for myself with the stable job that my uncle let me keep. Thankfully.
I moved in about a block away from Liam. Shortly after, that gal he introduced me to at that fancy restaurant moved right in with me. we have a child on the way soon and life is… GREAT.
I must say, with this new way of living, indulging in small vices is the only way to stay sane though. Whether it be eating sweets before supper or having a smoke after it. One thing I can never knock is eating steak once in a while. It’s gotta be rare.
Written and edited by H.K. Harville
