The Pummerin Bell
Thomas A. Welte
© Thomas A. Welte 2014
1
The Pummerin is a famous bell, hanging in the St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. With more than 20 tons, it's one of the biggest bells in Austria, the third largest in Europe, the fifth largest in the world and the second largest free-swinging bell in a church tower. This monster was cast from the abandoned guns of the Turkish siege of Vienna in 1683 and is only rung on special occasions. Today was one of those occasions. In my head, it thundered like St. Stephen’s Cathedral on New Year’s Eve. The Pummerin was so gigantic that it would only fit through the largest of the city gates. They even had to reinforce the underground vaults, fearing that it could collapse under the weight of the Pummerin. And it was precisely this bell that spent the morning in my head like some madman with a sledgehammer.
I crawled out of bed and somehow found my way into the bathroom. I rummaged around in the medicine box for something that would kill the bastard and found a package whose colour matched the patriotic red and white of the Austrian flag. I ignored the warning on the package insert about kidney damage and popped out three pills into my hand. I choked down the stuff using a pint of water and then stumbled back into the bedroom.
I was about to collapse back into bed when I realized that I was not alone. She lay on her back, her legs bent upright and a hand covered her eyes from a light that didn't exist. The curtains were drawn and it was almost completely dark in the room. I had no idea who she was and I couldn't remember a thing about what happened last night. The Pummerin still rang like hell.
Shit like this only happened in the movies. Not that I minded. Only the memories were missing and that made it twice as much fun. So I tried to reconstruct the evening. It would have been easier if that damn bell wasn't constantly ringing in my head. Now what did I remember? It was my birthday. I was alone in a bar. I ordered beer. I drank beer. That's it. Not much left to figure out.
I decided to not bother questioning the whole thing. It wasn't everyday that someone like me ends up in bed with a woman like a goddamn playboy model. She had long black hair and skin like silk. One leg peeked out from under the blanket. I didn't need a second look to determine that she had perfect toes. She was of Asian descent, and her face was that of a goddess. This was the best birthday present you could ask for. So I climbed into the bed to refresh my memory again. With a stupid grin on my face, I took a peek under the covers.
Not exactly what I expected.
I jumped like a grasshopper out of bed. At that moment the doorbell rang. Three times it buzzed insistently, then someone knocked impatiently. I just stood there, frozen, staring at the beautiful Asian lying in my bed. She slept soundly, with the pounding on the door doing nothing to her. I slipped into a pair of pants and opened the door for my noisy guests. Fatty Irish and his plus one, the Gorilla, stood before me. The two men stared at me intently. »Well, shit,« I said.
»What the hell kind of greeting is that for an old friend?« replied Fatty Irish as he attempted to enter the room. Unfortunately, his rather generous girth prevented him from succeeding. His companion, who pushed him vigorously, didn't help much. Fatty Irish was stuck. Like the Pummerin squeezing through the city gates. I just hoped that the floor would hold his weight.
»Do something Steiner! I got my jacket caught up somehow,« he growled. Then he tried to look over his shoulder but was entirely unsuccessful. He was sweating now, like melt water in the spring coming down from the Alps.
»Don't be a pussy, Gorilla, push or what the hell am I paying you for?« he grumbled to his companion, a huge boulder with shoulders as wide as the Great Wall of China. Irish himself weighed at least five hundred pounds, impressive compared to the Pummerin. After all, he bore all this weight with his own legs, a miracle in its own right. He had greasy hair, wasn't shaved and, in the depths of his double chin, an ocean liner could disappear without a trace. I did not want to think about what it had already devoured. The Bermuda Triangle paled in comparison.
I leaned over Irish and reached for the latch on the double-door. I braced myself with one leg against his stomach and wrenched the door open. Irish almost crashed into the ground, barely able to keep his balance. I tried not to think about just how big the hole would have been if he had actually hit the floor. We'd probably be looking for him in the basement.
I decided to make coffee first. Irish waddled over to my couch and turned it into a suspension bridge. He had just enough space on it for only himself. The only other major piece of furniture I had to offer was my bed, but it was busy. The Gorilla, standing upright in a corner, acted as if this didn't concern him at all. I put two cups of coffee on the table, opened the fridge and pulled out a can of coffee cream.
»Cream?« I asked gently.
»No, thanks Steiner. I'm on a diet. My doctor implied that my heart is as big as a medicine ball. A medicine ball! And if I had the intention to retire early, then I'd start with an emergency program, otherwise I will hardly reach forty five. I can only ride the elevator alone and need a crane to get out of the bed in the morning. Party time's over now. But enough about me. Let's talk about business.«
I sat, sipped my coffee and said: »What kind of business?«
»Well, I'll get to that in a second. I don't suppose your brother is at home, right now?«
With the word 'brother', my alarm bells began to ring. I hadn't seen Eddie for over a week. Even on my birthday, the bastard hadn't bothered to show up and the consequences of it lay naked in my bedroom.
»I'm having a really bad day, Irish. Couldn't we talk about this another time?« I asked.
He laughed all friendly now and his double chin jiggled jovially. Then he stretched out his arm for the coffee. But it reached short by at least a meter. The Gorilla took a step forward and handed him the cup. Irish guzzled down his coffee and then said: »You didn't really think that I climbed up four floors just to talk to you for the hell of it?«
The Gorilla supported that with multiple nods.
I sighed. »What did he do this time?«
»The usual. Gambling debts.«
»And because of a few thousand you had to drop by?«
»This time it's not just a few thousand, Steiner. Then I would've just sent the Gorilla.«
I swallowed.
»More like a thousand times seventy, if we're just making an incredibly loose estimate.«
Those were all my savings. I suddenly had a need for something stronger than coffee.
»Seventy thousand?« I said.
»Give or take. But I'll go easy on ya and not charge the whole amount, because we're old friends, you see, Steiner? I don't think I have to tell you what happens if I don't get my money. I know you haven't got anything to do with it. Your bones won't get broken, you have my word on it. I only thought you ought to hear it from me personally. Because of our friendship and such. Understand?«
He gave me a friendly wink and the Gorilla a nasty smirk.
»Okay, I got sixty thousand,« I said. »Do you want the money now or should I bring it over?«
Irish looked at me with raised eyebrows.
»Respect. I didn't believe that you could front up that much cash. Your business runs better than I thought. One day you have to tell me what you're really doing during the week.«
»I can live on it.«
»Sixty thousand for a rainy day isn't just a trifle. I'll make you an offer, Steiner. I don't want to put you out on the street. A deal between friends. Know what I mean?«
»I'm listening«
»This weekend there's a small poker tournament at my place in Simmering.«
»And you want me to play for you?«
»You're quick, aren't ya,« said Irish, full of en
ergy, looking at the Gorilla. He agreed with a wide grin.
»What are the terms?« I asked.
»Very simple. The Gorilla breaks nobody's bones and your brother's debts vanish into thin air.«
»And what do I have to do for that?«
»You provide the buy-in and enjoy yourself as you win the tournament.«
»How big is the buy-in?«
»Hundred thousand. Ten players. Winner goes home with a million in his pocket.«
»I only got sixty thousand.«
»No problem. I'll bring the other forty.«
»And what if I lose?«
»You better not lose, Steiner. Once a pro always a pro. Poker's like riding a bicycle. You never forget how to play poker. That's impossible. But let's say the event you're talking about occurs accidentally. Well, then your sixty and my forty thousand are gone and we're still even. I give you my word on this. It's a risk I gotta take. But if you win, I get you a bonus. You just don't get to leave with your sixty thousand, oh no, I am rounding that up to an even hundred thousand. I don't want to be greedy. But the rest of the million is mine of course. So what do you say?«
I shifted uncomfortably back and forth in my chair. I hate making decisions like this.
Fatty Irish smiled warmly at me. »I've given you an opportunity. But I won't be mad at all, if you don't wanna take it. It's not your fault, that your brother's an idiot. But I haven't been in the business for so long because they call me Fair Irish. If your brother doesn't pay, I have to do something about that. I have to, I hope you understand. I'm here only because of our friendship. I had a real hard time thinking about what would be best for everyone. I don't wanna have to send out the Gorilla. This hurts me too, you know. You can ask the Gorilla yourself, if you don't believe me.«
The Gorilla again nodded approvingly as if Fatty Irish had a heart of gold. I was just about to give my answer when the door to my bedroom creaked open and the beautiful, naked Asian walked out, rubbing her eyes. All three of us looked at her as she stumbled into the bathroom. She flipped up the toilet seat with her foot and she took a piss while standing. Both the jaws of Gorilla and Irish dropped down. There was a loud flush, and then the beautiful ladyboy disappeared back into the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. She hadn't even noticed us. With wide eyes, the two stared at me. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just shrugged my shoulders. Fatty Irish opened his mouth for a question. But there was nothing but silence. It had became a damn uncomfortable silence. Embarrassed, I grabbed my coffee cup and tried desperately to wring out another drop. But there was nothing left, so I said: »I'm in.«