How to Kill a Body Dead
Smoke. Too thick to see, it was. A deplorable situation, really, with me down to my last trick at whist. Sweaty fingers gripped what remained in my hand.
A sodding lot of nothing, and a juicy slice of New World land on the line.
I wiped my hands on my red brocade jacket. In any situation, it is essential to look the part, you see.
My father was out there somewhere. Blowing smoke with his naked native, most likely. A swindling pair. We were that.
Six or seven other men materialized in the shifting fog. A black voodoo chap kept our tumblers filled, mumbling about haints. Twice, he tried to slip a rotten square of cloth into my hand. “Da root. Take da root. Haints be everwhere in dis place.”
The barkeep brushed past and laughed. “Ghosts. He sees them so often that I suspect he is one. Convenient for me. I am not required to compensate the dead. Isn’t that right, Vicar?”
“Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” The Vicar slurred it just prior to crashing his head into the table. The drink put him out of our game of diminishing contract whist first.
“Si, hombres. The Vicar is – how you say? – predictable.” The Spaniard flashed his good eye in my direction. Perhaps his eye patch was responsible for his unfortunate second place folding in our game of chance. He yawned and leaned closer to me. “The time, it is moving, yes? Amigo, the last card. Play it. I must away.”
My red-faced, balding nemesis spat on the floor. “Yes. Yes, Manuel. We know what you get up to this time of night.” Clive Read. Wealthy bugger.
The Spaniard’s good eye wrinkled around the edges. “Ah yes, hombre. But the important thing is that I get up, si?”
“If you are implying that I am impotent, Pig…….” Read pushed back from the table.
It was the trick I needed. With a flick of my fingers, I let my last card fall.
“I believe you owe me the title to a certain tract of land. Middlesex, Mr Read. Give it to me.”
A Charleston series. The first post in the series is here, the second post is here, the third post is here, the fourth post is here, the fifth post is here, the sixth post is here, the seventh post is here, the eighth post is here and the ninth post is here. Thank you for reading.
Trackbacks & Pingbacks
- Waiting To Be Laid Low | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- I Got a Boner | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- I’m Late For a Very Important Date | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- O Death, Where Is Thy Sting? | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- The Valley of Dry Bones | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- A Breath of Charleston Spring | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- Magnolia Cemetery Is THE Place to be Dead | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
Wow. You are so imaginative! Guess that is why you’re the writer and I’m the reader.
Lovely Andra…
I tried to work all these postulations into one post. Whew, it was hard. I’m not done yet, and I still didn’t get them all, but you readers gave me a nice challenge yesterday. I hope it pleases until the end.
Brilliant post. Particularly love the vicar: so pleased he got Middlesex.
The Vicar got drunk, and I hope the narrator deserves Middlesex…….he’s the one who won it. Wrangling all these people in three hundred-ish words was a task…………
No, your writing was great, I put two sentences into one and changed the meaning in the process. I know the Vicar didn’t get Middlesex, and good thing too. What would a Vicar do with Middlesex? No, I’m actually relieved your hero got it. Some excellent cards played there.
Lovin’ it hombre!
Haha. My Spanish, it is meager.
I know beer and bus station – that is it.
A game of chance in Charleston, SC…OH MY!! such a shock. Times sure have changed, eh.
http://www.gambling-law-us.com/State-Laws/South-Carolina/
The basis of this story comes from a local legend, Lou. Gambling hasn’t always been regulated like it is today. I clicked on that link, and my head started to hurt trying to decipher all the legalese……….
Are we back to me recommending books on the seedy underside of Charleston?
And I have heard of front sex and back sex, but what is middle sex?
No! NO!!!!!! No more seedy underside books from you. My brain is still seared from the last one you gave me.
MTM says it is the belly button……….
But how do you…? Oh, never mind.
Glad he got that juicy slice of New World. Your characters are also so interesting, Andra.
After packing so many into this one post, it will be interesting to see where they take us next, Penny. Even for me, because I don’t ever know what’s going to happen when they get going.
Whist! I’ve always wondered how that was played.
To write about it accurately, I should’ve done more research. I have no earthly idea how to play it.
Uh oh. I think he’s going to be enjoying his new tract of land from the rather uncomfortable position of under it.
We’ll see, Jessie. We’ll see.
Oh, my . . . I wonder who it is that is bad to the bones.
Haha. I wonder, too.
Slick piece. Loved it.
I was pleased with how this one came together. Thank you, Roger.
I like the voodoo chap! Can see him and the Spaniard’s one “good eye.” Great group of characters, Andra, and each one distinct and memorable. I am quite sure you could go on indefinitely with Charleston as the backdrop as there’s enough for someone as imaginative as you are.
I have more to imagine now, as it turns out………