I took a ten out of my wallet and handed it to her. \u201cI\u2019m not really Tom Cruise,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure?\u201d she said, slipping the bill into her apron pocket. \u201cYou could be his twin.\u201d She found my change and held it out to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cLast time I checked,\u201d I said, \u201cTom Cruise wasn\u2019t black.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll smoke and mirrors, honey pie,\u201d the old Englishman said, and winked at her. \u201cHollywood magic.\u201d<\/p>\n
The waitress sighed. \u201cLet me know if you need anything else,\u201d she said, beginning to walk away from us before she\u2019d even finished her sentence.<\/p>\n
The old man picked up his glass and took a long drink. He wiped the foam from his lip and said, \u201cThe birds used to be so much easier to pick up. Give \u2018em a wink, shake the hair a bit, and you could bag three in one night.\u201d He grinned at me, and for a moment I could see the young man inside the old. \u201cOr all at once, if that\u2019s what you wanted. Oh, good times, that. You\u2019d never think you\u2019d get tired of it, not when you\u2019re just a lad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt had to have been the best thing in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was! There wasn\u2019t anything better, yeah? We blew in\u2014WHOOF\u2014and brought the roof down. Nobody could touch us. Elvis<\/em> couldn\u2019t touch us, right?\u201d He had another drink of his beer. \u201cI\u2019m too old to be modest. Absolute genius, we was.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUntouchable,\u201d I agreed. I didn\u2019t have a drink in front of me. I hadn\u2019t tasted a drop in three years. My mouth was dry and my throat was aching for it anyway.<\/p>\n \u201cSo,\u201d he said. He took a matchbook and a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one out. He tore a match free, folded the cover backwards over it and ignited it by pulling it fast between the cover and the strip. He lit the cigarette and, failing to find an ashtray, blew out the match and dropped it onto the wooden floor. \u201cHow\u2019d you find me, then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEddie Thurber,\u201d I said, knowing that would say it all.<\/p>\n He nodded. \u201cYeah, I figured. I heard about the accident.\u201d He snorted a quick laugh through his nose. \u201cFunny, when you think about it, him going out in a car crash. That was supposed to be my ticket punched there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCoincidence is a crazy thing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCoincidence, yeah, but maybe it was more than that.\u201d He leaned in close to me, and said under his breath, \u201cMaybe it was murder<\/em>.\u201d Before I had a chance to respond, he sat back again and laughed. \u201cI\u2019m just having ya. It ain\u2019t nothing but time and bad luck.\u201d He sucked in on his cigarette. \u201cReally though,\u201d he said, then blew the smoke out. \u201cHow\u2019d you figure it out? Did he tell anybody before he kicked it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said. \u201cI doubt it. Things like that, nobody believes anyway after forty years. Yesterday is ancient history to most people. They can\u2019t even remember when MTV used to play music.\u201d I reached into my satchel and took out a small leather notebook. \u201cI found this in with the rest of his things. Nobody at the home read it, I figure. It didn\u2019t look like they\u2019d sorted through any of his stuff, just tossed it all into a bunch of boxes.\u201d<\/p>\n He put his fingertips on the notebook and slid it across the table, but didn\u2019t pick it up or open it. \u201cAnd they just let you walk out with it, did they?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not? He didn\u2019t have any family, no friends. From what I could tell, he wasn\u2019t liked by anybody on the staff. Nobody cared if I took it. Saved them the trouble of carrying it to the dumpster.\u201d<\/p>\n He put his hand over the notebook, covering it as the waitress came back to our table. \u201cYou can\u2019t smoke in here,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, darling\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019re the only ones in here. It\u2019s not going to hurt anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoesn\u2019t matter,\u201d she said. \u201cLaw\u2019s the law.\u201d<\/p>\n He took a long drag, then turned the cigarette around in his fingers and held it out to her, butt first. \u201cThere\u2019s no ashtray. Maybe you could be a dear and toss that out for me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you serious?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, sorry. I don\u2019t want to drop it in my glass. I\u2019m still drinking it.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked back over her shoulder at the barman, looking for backup, but he either didn\u2019t notice or was deliberately ignoring her. She snatched a bowl of peanuts off the neighboring table, poured them into her hand, then set the bowl with a loud smack in front of the old man. \u201cDon\u2019t light up another one,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cOn my honor,\u201d he said. He put the cigarette back between his lips. \u201cI do appreciate it. Smoking\u2019s one of my last vices, other than younger women.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure it is,\u201d she said. She turned and stalked away toward the bar, presumably to give the barman a lashing.<\/p>\n \u201cBe sure to leave her a good tip,\u201d the old man said to me. \u201cShe\u2019s having a hard day of it, yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWorking for a living\u2019s always hard,\u201d I said. Suddenly curious, I asked, \u201cWhy Iowa? You could have gone anywhere, anywhere at all. Why here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, we\u2019d been here, there and everywhere, you know? What was I going to do, go back to India? That never really was my thing anyway.\u201d He waved his arm around the table. \u201cThis place, it\u2019s farm country out here. I always did like a nice bit of farmland.\u201d The Englishman shrugged. \u201cIt was time for a change anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n A look crossed my face, which he must have seen, because he leaned in to me and said, \u201cYou think I was crazy to do it, I know you do. Walking away from all that. All the money. All the fame.\u201d He grinned. \u201cWell, not all the money. I still get a chunk of that. Not as much as the rest of them, but more than enough to keep me in Jelly Babies. That\u2019s what our old Mr. Eddie Thurber got up to, making sure I still got my cut of things. Only fair, that.\u201d<\/p>\n I took an envelope out of my pocket and set it on the table in front of me, keeping my hand on it. \u201cWhose idea was it? You don\u2019t have to tell me. I\u2019m just curious.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d he said, looking conspiratorially around the empty bar before answering. \u201cLet\u2019s just say it was the quiet fellow I used to spend so much time with back in me youth. There was that rumor going around that I was dead, all nonsense and that, but when I started to think about getting out of it all, he was the one who thought that might be the way to do it. Not killing me off, mind you, but letting me go and having someone else sorta\u2026fill in for me.\u201d He stubbed his cigarette out in the peanut bowl. \u201cThat was fine with me. We gave the new guy a cut of my action, had him sign all sorts of documents putting his soul in hock if he ever came clean\u2014raise your glass to Mr. Eddie for the paperwork there\u2014and off I went, into the sunset. It didn\u2019t matter much, we were done as a group anyway by then. It was time to just let it be, yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n He started to light another cigarette, but the waitress slammed an empty glass down hard on the bar, and he put the cigarette back into the pack. \u201cThat harpy\u2019s got it in for me,\u201d he growled. \u201cAnyway, I got the farm and a ton of money, he got the fame and the wife and the press up his arse, so I think it was a pretty fair deal. Did you know the wife was his? I only met her once, but she was a lovely girl. Shame when she died. They seemed like the were made for each other, weren\u2019t they? Anyway, every couple of years I\u2019d put something new out, and he\u2019d be the one fronting the shows and the interviews, while I sat on the porch and watched the corn grow. It\u2019s not like I don\u2019t work for my money,\u201d he said. \u201cThe work I like. It\u2019s the rest of it that I got worn out by. Smart thing to do anyway, it was. I mean, what did it get any of us really? Crazies in the garden, trying to cut your throat, or waiting outside your door for you with a gun in their pocket. It could of been me getting popped in the gut leaving the house, right?\u201d He chuckled softly. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have joked about murder a minute ago. One crazy bastard\u2019s all it takes. No sir, I\u2019ll keep the work and let someone else deal with the loonies.\u201d<\/p>\n He reached for his beer and drained the rest of it in one swallow. \u201cSo, now that we\u2019ve reached the subject of loonies, perhaps you\u2019d be so kind as to tell me what you want from me, yeah? You know who I am, so cut to it.\u201d<\/p>\n I slid the envelope across the table to him. \u201cOpen that when you\u2019re ready,\u201d I said. \u201cThere\u2019s a phone number on it.\u201d I pushed my chair back and stood. \u201cIt\u2019s been an honor to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n He took the envelope between his fingers. \u201cThat\u2019s it? I\u2019m just supposed to make a phone call?\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded. \u201cI didn\u2019t follow a paper trail to find you,\u201d I said. \u201cOther than that notebook of Eddie Thurber\u2019s, I don\u2019t think there\u2019s any record of what went on with you outside of maybe a Swiss safe deposit box. Nobody\u2019s going to find you here, even if they were looking, which they aren\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen how\u2019d you find me, son? Only three other people know where I am, and two of them are dead.\u201d<\/p>\n I held my hand out to him, and he took it reflexively and we shook. \u201cNot two. Just one. It\u2019s not that hard to put together a con that fools the world, if you have enough money to do it.\u201d I pointed at the envelope. \u201cOpen that soon. He\u2019s waiting for your call.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019s waiting, hey?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCall the number,\u201d I repeated. \u201cSome surprises are good ones.\u201d I took my wallet out again and tossed two twenties on the table. \u201cHave another one for me, would you? I miss it sometimes, the drinking.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure,\u201d he said, and then asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s your name, son?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJude,\u201d I said to him. \u201cMy mother was a big fan, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas she?\u201d he said absently, and then added, \u201cI hate surprises. Even the good ones.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll like this one,\u201d I promised. \u201cSay hello to Mr. Lennon for me.\u201d<\/p>\n Outside the bar, I paused before getting into my rental car. I sniffed the air, found it rich and thick with spring, more fragrant than it had been an hour ago, the sun more warm and soothing, my heart and head more balanced than they had been in years. Everything\u2019s better today<\/em>, I thought.<\/p>\n Getting better all the time.<\/p>\n ~<\/p>\n ~<\/p>\n For the IndieInk Writing Challenge<\/a> this week, Cheney<\/a> challenged me with “If you don’t like your job, quit.” and I challenged kgwaite<\/a> with “Like Ophelia, I float on a river of…”<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The old man raised his empty glass in the direction of the barman, and in a few moments, the waitress had brought him another beer. \u201cPut it on me tab, love,\u201d he said, his Scouse accent standing out like a naked man in the Sistine Chapel, Iowa being as far from Merseyside as to be […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[114,140],"tags":[149,122,150],"class_list":["post-462","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-indieink-stuff","category-writing-2","tag-fab","tag-indieink","tag-the-fifth"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/462","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=462"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/462\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":474,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/462\/revisions\/474"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=462"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=462"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=462"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/em><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.kamekomurakami.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/04\/Initials-At-Bottom-Of-Story.jpg\" "\\"Initials")
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