I don't know what I was thinking. How in god's world can I accomplish this ghastly task? A story, I must concoct a story, and it must look original, and it must contain four points, not counting its naming. First, it must contain a pair of folks, and two, it must contain a party's passing; third, a discussion about dying and plans for a soul in passing, and what form, if any form at all, a soul in passing might follow, and to what location it may go.
And fourth and finally, and of utmost import, is a mandatory inclusion of a tool for turning locks. It is this fourth inclusion that was at first a most profound worry to your author, as its inclusion might both hint at and foil my first thought as to how to go about this story; my gimmick, as it is, with which I wish to accomplish this small yarn. But, by and by, this is as it is, and it shall stay that way. And so I must stitch away and construct a story of dark imaginings and stormy words with but a singular singularity missing, sort of a missing part. (This fifth and last inclusion is for this author only, my own addition to said mandatory points.) You will find a hint toward my story's conclusion, to unlock, so you could say, my gimmick's logic!
Absalom and Adair sat watching with growing anticipation to particular goings on in a room in back of Stormy's, a local bar. Both saw with hair-raising clarity what was occurring through a doorway that was ajar. Bubba, a bar-back at Stormy's, was in a chair. Cliff and Spanky, Absalom and Adair's companions stood glaring down at Bubba with horrid looks.
"You know what I want, Bubba," Cliff was saying again, "a way to find Stormy's cash stash. Now, I say it again, do you know its location?"
"No!" Bubba was crying now, blood pouring from his mouth.
"I don't think Bubba knows." Spanky said.
"You don't think!" said Cliff, "now, do what I pay you for."
At this point, Spanky struck Bubba again and again about his skull with a bat. Absalom sat staring blankly out at nothing, mumbling to nobody.
"If us shadows caus'd a fright; think but this, and all is right; that you doz'd off in your chair; whilst us visions did..."
"Shut up," said Adair.
"I'm just practicing for my play," said Absalom.
"Shut up and watch that door, it's all wrong anyway."
"What's all wrong?"
"What you's saying. You say it all wrong."
"No, I don't. My coach says I do it as good as anybody."
"Your coach is an idiot. That man hasn't had any practicing in acting or nothing."
"It's right, I say, and what do you know anyway? What'd you do that was so important? Who crown'd you king?"
"Fuck off," Adair was sick of this, "and watch that door." Cliff was looking around at Adair now with a look that could start a riot. "Now look what you did! Cliff's mad at us!"
Spanky was just finishing his batting on Bubba's skull. Cliff lit up a cigar, striking a match off poor Bubba's chin.
"Damn bastard's pass'd on!" Spanky said, "Shocking! Looks as if it's up to us to find it on our own."
Spanky and Cliff shot a look at Adair and Absalom that told both to start looking.
"...Or this Puck a liar call. So good night unto you all..."
"Shut up, Absalom!" Adair was ripping wood planks off of a bit of wall and saw it first.
"Look!" Adair was pointing to a big iron lock-box hiding amidst studs and plywood wallboards. It was Cliff who was first to try to pry it apart. It would not go. Its lid was shut tight with a lock as big as Fort Knox.
"Looks as though it has to go with us as is." Spanky said.
"What?" Cliff hit him on his noggin. "No way that thing is going with us! It's too big to carry. Go find a tool to bust this lock."
"A tool?" Absalom was looking on with a puzzling look, "a tool for busting up a lock?"
"Shut up, Absalom, just go look and stop your yapping!"
"But, I think I saw..."
"Shut up!" Adair saw Cliff's fury rising. All four thugs ran through that bar as if looking for a singular drop in a rainstorm.
"I just don't know what to do," said Cliff, "My boss will hang us if I can't find that cash for him."
Adair was thinking about what was in his cards now. If that cash wasn't found soon it was, without a doubt, curtains for him and Absalom. As annoying as Absalom was, Adair could not stop caring for him. And with Absalom going off and quitting his day job (which is why Absalom was doing this at all) to go at this acting, it was most critical to find it. "I can't go off dying now, not with Absalom and I having plans and all." Adair was planning to finish paying off his loan for his sailboat.
"What?" Cliff was angry, "Stop blabbing and start looking. Or I will by my own hand ship you straight to God, almighty!"
"That's what I'm afraid of, I don't know if God will want us! I think I should start praying!" Adair was always thinking of his actions in this world, and if, passing on, God would admit him into God-land, as Adair was fond of calling it.
"God wants nothing to do with you, idiot, don't go praying at him or you'll piss him off, too!" Cliff said.
"Say, I think this might work!" Absalom said loudly, "Might work most smartly, that's a fact!" What Absalom was holding caught all off guard. It was bright gold and shining on its black cord.
"You found it!" Cliff said, smiling, sort of, with his gray stubs in his dry pink mouth, "bring it to Cliffy!"
"If it fits," said Spanky looking on with doubt that Absalom, of all folk, would find it first.
"It will work," said Adair, "Why would it not?"
"It could just not fit, or it might not go to this lock."
"Why must you always start up with this doubting?" Absalom was angry, "if you hadn't hit Bubba so hard..."
"Both of you shut up." Cliff was all but fuming now, "Why don't you just turn it and find out? I'm going to cut both of your splits if you both don't shut up!"
It wasn't long until Cliff was splitting up cash. To avoid drawing suspicion, all four ran off on opposing ways. Cliff and Spanky ran off first, not too soon, in Adair's mind. Morning was coming.
"How'd you find it?" Adair said to Absalom prior to running off from Stormy's.
"Just on a lark I was looking around Bubba's throat, and it was on a chain."
"Wouldn't you know it," Adair was laughing.
"Only key around!" Absalom said, and ran off with his stash, laughing.
"Good luck on your play!" Adair was starting to call out as Absalom took off, "you dumb lucky bastard."
Upon finishing this draft of Dark Night at Stormy's, this author has but a small amount of words for anybody that is still with him at its finish. I was trying to portray a most lofty situation, and upon failing, found that I was lost without a story at all! And so, in a fit of panic and in a rush to finish, I found this short-short story popping forth. I know that it is not such a fabulous story, what with this group of wimpy chums and all. And with such a small bit of craftsmanship, that it is hardly worth looking at. I do pray that you might find a laugh or two, if not at its situation, at its author's situation. For, at this hour, this author is still at a loss, with no ability to put his own I.D. on this story without ruining his own gimmick! (If you still don't know what that gimmick was, look at my last paragraph again, you will find a hint!)
If you find a bit of curiosity still, and wish to know how it all wraps up:
* Cliff was found short of cash by his boss, and was found six days past hanging from a hook at Fishman's Fish Shop.
* Spanky, not much for working without his chum, was found roaming Main St. shooting randomly at patrons of an art fair, and was quickly shot by cops.
* Adair was, at last sighting, casting off; trying to sail around Africa.
* Absalom's turn at Puck won critical acclaim as a brilliant improvisation and his goal now is to go to Hollywood to film his fascinating musical adaptation Titus Andronicus.
© 2000 nosferaustin@hotmail.com