Day 203 - Upside Down - Chapter 37 - (1175 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Upside down, back to front

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 37

After Mr Maxwell seniors funeral Sam and James left his sister and her husband behind at the wake and without a backwards glance disappeared in search of a quiet place to talk and figure things out. They drove in silence for a while and then found a suburban bar, buried in the depths of Mt Eden road where there were only locals and the parking was off street. No Friday night drinking crowd, no serious alcoholic hang outs.
They took a table outside in the beer garden, such as it was. It was not grimy or substandard, it was small and quiet, with a couple of speakers paired up on the wall, the wall that shared the outside of the pub interior. This was extra space, as much as the footprint allowed but was not the feature they wanted it to be, it was more a viable alternative for the few smokers left who still dared to indulge in public.
They had already grabbed a couple of beers and James hungrily, needily sucked in a large portion of the amber fluid, waiting and willing the alcohol to hit his head. A head that was spinning.
Sam on the other hand, raised his glass repeatedly but stopped before drinking each and every time. It was almost comical like he was somehow being prevented from drinking but the answer was much more complex than he had allowed for. He could not let himsef be affected now, and not for the forseeable future. That phone call had come at the right moment.
Where would that have gone? How far would Ivan have taken things?
“You need to stay away from him, and we need to keep that money safe. Break up his portion and lock it away somewhere – bind it in some way. How do we do that? How can we do that without anyone knowing we have it? Jesus what the fuck man.”
James kept drinking, the numbing buzz simply not coming fast enough.
“I thought he was going to seriously hurt me. I mean seriously, seriously.” He gulped a new load of amber, “seroiusly like kill seriously.”
Sam could not and would not argue. He had thought the same thing. He didn’t want to admit it it, but it was a choice between denial and death, death always has the upper hand.
Sam was pretty confident he could have stopped Ivan, on a level playing field and in a simple one on one. He could hold his own, maybe even win. They were evenly matched physically and Sam had discipline and clarity on his side. Ivan had the advantage of foreknowledge though. He knew if and when he would attack, and Sam had not seen it coming. Who’s to say he’ll not see the next one coming, or not be there and then find out later?
Ivan had a lack of clarity, but was fueled by a lack of sanity in the moment.
“Manisha never said.” Sam shook his head, gulpled in the beer at the thought of the risk his sister was now in. He put the beer down on the table and looked at it as if they were alone, he and the glass. He wanted to be drink, to feel no fear. That was not an option opne to him, he edges the glass away with the tip of his finger.
James watahces him and drains his own glass, fluid sliding into his stomach and it’s motion translating to his arm as he smoothly ran the empty to the table top and scooped up Sam’s near full one in a single arcing movement and bringing it to his lips and continuing on.
“Help yourself.”
“Yeah don’t mind if I do. If you’re not going to drink make yourself useful and drunk me up.”
“Drunk you up.”
“Too fucking right. And lets get some food. Have a great time old chap. Tomorrow, death.”
“We are not going to die.”
“Could you sound more convincing? Please?”
“I am convinced, Ivan will not be killing us.”
“It’s not us I am worried about, you are golden. You are family and I am an ant. Waiting to be…” James mimed the movement of anf accompnaying sound to the squashing of a bug. “That’s me, you you are going to be good.”
‘I won’t let him.” I hope.
“What are you going to do to stop him?” Sam held his arms out, his impressive span and size not lost on his friend, but he had missed James’s point entirely. “I mean maybe you can stop him, if you’re there maybe, maybe not. If he wants to kill me then I’ll end up dead. Then what?”
“Then…?” He was at a loss. What would he do.
“Then what? You’ll kill him? You get caught, the money goes away, your sister has no husband and you killed him. Have you thought about that? How is this going to play out with your sister?”
“She’ll … she won’t stand for it.”
“No she won’t and that’s my point. You can’t realistically stop him, I know I can’t and if you do it’s going to ruin your sisters life and yours too.”
“That doesn’t matter. Your life’s worth it.”
“Yeah.” James sighed and looked away. “That’s easy to say. But it’s not true. I’m already dead ad revenge is worthless. Killing anyone else won’t solve things and won’t bring me back. He’s already killed one person. This is over. I can run, I can hide, but then that puts me in the spotlight. That detective doesn’t have a case on me but he suspects something. You’re good, Annie’s good and he has no idea about the money. But he’s got a hard on for me. If I disappear, you can bet dollars to donuts it’ll set alarm bells off in him and then he lookds at the “accident closer.” This only works if he thinks there’s no crime, there’s no evidence of a crime to him – just a hunch.”
“You don’t know that, we havent heard from him for a few days now.”
“He had that look, that look. I’ve been under arrest before, I’ve seen that look. Cops have this look, the ‘you’re mine’ look. He has that look. We can’t give him the slightest clue. I can’t leave, I can’t defend myself and you can’t avenge me.”
James teared up a little at the overwhelming futility.
“I need another drink. Drunk me up bitch.” He laced the profanity with some hope born of being socially unacceptable. It was like being told you had terminal cancer he had thought. There is a terrible finality to it all and also a giant freedom.

Who gives a fuck about consequences when you face none? Only consequences for yourself are off the table though. Your friends and family survivors to your final blast from the past to an certain future.