*****
Distracted by the crash of a glass near the front door Elliott looked up from the card game and saw a gentleman in the doorway. The man who towered in the doorway was dressed in what appeared to be a sport coat and khakis, from this distance and through the smoky blue haze, Elliott could only make out the silhouette which gave the new patron a mysterious aura.
The visitor took a seat at the bar, next to the vagrant’s overturned glass.
Now there was just enough light for Elliott to see that the sport coat was in shambles. The nice dark blue sport coat was torn along the back seam and the elbows on each arm were worn away revealing a not so trendy glimpse at the white shirt below. The jacket appeared to be near the point of falling off this man. It dangled from his body as though it were two sizes too big. The jacket and pants were also stained from grass and mud. Elliott figured this individual must be down on his luck.
By comparison Elliott was living the good life off of his hobbies of woodcarving and gambling. He would boast to his friends that he could always pick a winner no matter the sport. In reality he lost more than he won, but he was a good woodcarver. Elliot was not rich, but very comfortable mostly from his penny-pinching and miserly ways.
It began as the sound of ten scurrying mice, then twenty, thirty, and hundreds. The storm clouds had burst open. Before long the rain was so loud it drowned out the music playing from the radio behind the bar. “Thank goodness we’re indoors boys,” Elliott remarked to his card buddies, Jake and Mitchi.
Elliott was not paying attention to his cards, but instead focused on the stranger at the bar. Elliott was convinced the stranger was not from here. The stranger just sat there. He was not speaking, he only stared straight ahead. He appeared to look not at the wall but through it, as though it was something other than a simple wall with a few liquor bottles on it. He had not budged since he took the seat.
“What’cha got?” Mitchi asked Elliott.
“What? Oh sorry, I must a been daydreaming,” Elliott lied as he laid down his hand, “about what I will do with all your money.” Mitchi laughed while Jake watched the cards fall.
“I won. I won! Oh yeah, who’s da’ man!” Jake shouted with a surprising amount of excitement. This was not half as bad as the victory dance that accompanied each hand Jake won. Luckily, this was not often. Mitchi cheered Jake on. Elliott sat smugly, as he attempted to withhold his inevitable chuckle.
“Ridiculous,” Elliott laughed in spite of his anger at losing his money. No matter how much money he had, he always wanted more. He pinched every penny and tried to win every pot. Since it was only Jake, he knew the money would come back to him soon.
Distracted by the dance, Elliott sat up in shock when he noticed that the barstool was empty.
“Can I play?” The question came from the shadows behind Elliott. Elliott jumped. The voice was raspy, cold and harsh. In fact, the voice was so rough he anticipated a spray of blood to accompany each one of the words.
Jake answered, “Sure ya can. Just more money for me ta take.”
“Whatch ya name?” Mitchi asked the one question that Elliott wanted to know.
“Nate Chadwick.” Elliott flinched with each syllable anticipating the spray of blood. The name held no meaning or any relief for Elliott. Nate leaned over the table to shake Mitchi’s outstretched hand. Mitchi was startled by the man’s appearance and instinctively retracted his hand. Mitchi waved “hi” instead.
Nate’s appearance disgusted Elliott. Nate’s teeth were covered in nicotine tar. His cheekbones bulged through his grey flesh. His hair was as dingy as the blackest night and his sunken eyes darker yet.
Nate took the seat across from Elliott. It was Mitchi’s deal. The cards clumsily stumbled across the table. It was a quick game in which Mitchi lost the last of his money along with his cross necklace to Elliott. Nate lost only a single diamond earring, which he withdrew from his chest pocket, while Jake lost his winnings from the last game.
Jake left to buy a round of drinks for the gamblers. Elliott let the cards roll off the tip of his fingers with impressive skill. The cards slid elegantly across the table to Nate and Mitchi. Mitchi folded his terrible hand, not willing to lose any more jewelry.
Elliott sat smugly in his chair as he held a pair of aces and hoped for another. He looked at his draw cards, the pair of aces king high would need to hold. Elliott bet everything in an all-in move.
From his pockets, Nate withdrew a watch, an empty money clip, and the matching diamond earring which called Elliott’s bet.
Elliott threw down his cards, “Read ‘em and weep, Nate!” Elliott reached to try on his new watch as Nate laid down his cards over the watch. “What?! Aces and eights!” Elliott called out the cards loud enough for the entire bar to hear. “You…you cheated. I know you cheated!” Elliott shot from his seat so fast that it crashed into the wall.
Jake turned around at the bar as Elliott yelled, “I want my money back ya sonofab-!” The alcohol had slurred Elliott’s speech a little, but was not the cause of him stopping mid rant. From the bar Jake thought Elliott looked reminiscent of a deer caught in headlines, frozen in terror.
Elliott could not finish his thought let alone his sentence. He choked on the words cut short by the stare of this man, Nate. It was unlike a normal stare as; this was cold and penetrated every fiber of Elliott. This was kind gaze that made a grown man shiver and quake in fear. Elliott’s legs were so weak that he crumpled back toward his missing chair. Only to end up sprawled on the floor alongside the pretzels and peanut shells.
“’Tis mine,” with that Nate collected his winnings, turned around and left the bar.
Outside the door all could hear the vagrant repeatedly slurring, “Aces and Eights, that’s a dead man’s hand.”
It only took Elliott a moment to realize that he looked the fool to his drunken friends. This angered him. The fact that Nate walked off with Elliott’s one hundred and fifty dollars sent Elliott into a murderous rage. With newfound rage, Elliott decided to follow Nate and get his money back, one way or another.
Elliott shot out the door before his poker pals could stop him. The rain stopped for the moment. He saw Nate walking out of the town and followed him at a distance. He wanted to confront Nate at Nate’s place to humiliate him in front of his friends or family.
Elliott followed Nate for the next twenty minutes. Nate did not glance over his shoulder once. Elliott steamed as he thought about Nate absorbed in his own thoughts on how to best spend Elliott’s money. Elliott tailed Nate pass a nice congregation of homes. Elliott never liked neighborhoods, just a bunch of needy people who asked for advice and favors.
Rain began to fall in biblical proportions. Elliott needed to close in on Nate or Nate might vanish in the curtain of rain. The rain did nothing to cool Elliott’s temper.
Elliott was soaked to the bone but he spotted Nate as he passed by the front of a church. A shiver ran down Elliott’s spine not from the rain, but from the ominous presence older churches seemed to exude. Elliott no longer attended services on a regular basis since he felt the church became too commercialized. They preached about how one would go to Hell unless he tithed, but when you tithed your money did not go to help the needy families here or even in the third world nations. No your money went to the vanity of the church council that bought stained-glass windows, microphones, little pamphlets with picture of the church which enticed new parishioners and drummed up more tithed funds. Elliott joked that we would see Jesus on the cross drinking some popular soda brand as he gave a thumbs up. It was more than he could handle. Losing control of his anger Elliott charged Nate at full speed. Nate must have heard Elliott’s footfalls, because he turned around to face Elliott.
Elliott stopped.
The weakness returned to Elliott’s knees again. He could stand no longer; he collapsed in a puddle of murky water, which splashed on to his T-shirt.
Elliott’s mouth opened in an attempt to speak, but was muted. His throat was suffering from the same weakness as his legs.
Nate spoke, the words scratched their way out of his throat, “Things change.” Nate started to walk away again, but then stopped. He added with a pause between the words, “Accept it,” Nate roamed a little pass the church.
Elliott regained his strength and fury. He could barely make out the shape of a tree behind which Nate had vanished. Elliott decided it was now or never. He circled around the tree and found that Nate was resting on the ground. He approached Nate; with each soggy step he felt his anger build and build. Elliott’s tunnel vision focused in on Nate, as the rest of the world fell away.
“Hey you cheating bastard I want my money now or else!” Elliott’s shouts were drowned in the rain. He edged closer. “Hey are you listening! Look at me!” Elliott punctuated this verbal barrage with a swift kick to Nate’s side.
Nate just laid there without movement or reply. Elliott gave him another kick this one was driven by the pent up anger and rage. It was easier this time, so he kicked again and again. Nate rolled over onto his face with an arm lifelessly draped over a concrete slab.
Satisfied Elliott reached to take his money back from Nate’s jacket pocket. He knocked Nate’s arm aside, in order to check another pocket, Nate’s arm fell revealing a tombstone. A glance at the headstone was all Elliott needed to recognize the name. He froze as confusion set in. The headstone read:
Nathaniel “Nate” Chadwick
February 22, 1937 to October 13, 1975
Father of one
Loved by none
Luck dealt him one good hand
Now he’s done
Elliott stumbled back from Nate’s cold lifeless body.
*****
A lone person stood shrouded in the rain hidden, by the foliage of a weeping willow. He leaned on the tree for strength as he caught his breath. After a moment he turned and left the graveyard unnoticed. His work was complete.
If you liked that,
Be sure to check out
Blood Test (Code: Black Part 1),
Crazy Thoughts,
Little Boy Blue, or
Dead Man’s Hand
Available Now
More to come
this Summer and Fall
Blood Drive (Code: Black Part 3),
Code: Black Part 4 and
Addicted
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