I’m Late For a Very Important Date
An ominous dark hangs over the public house as I pull to a stop in front. The place is closed on its busiest night. I weave through disappointed risk takers and quenchless drunkards to the most familiar face in my world.
“Well, Son. Perhaps the barkeep decided to go on holiday, though I cannot imagine where one holidays is this bug-and-vermin infested wilderness. Seems his voodoo servant is gone as well.”
Read shambles up at the end with the Vicar in tow. “I say the black one put a nasty voodoo spell on the barkeep and dragged him off to the pit of hell.”
The wind splinters through me, and with numb fingers, I pull my overcoat closer around my ears.
Father clears his throat and stares hard at me. “I am amazed to hear myself say it, but perhaps Read’s imaginings are correct. What do you think, Son?”
My mouth locks. Desperate, I mimic a serious ponder of the circumstances. Read’s cackle of laughter interrupts my stammer.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sir. They’re passed out in back, most likely. I am certain we shall see them tomorrow.”
“Well then. I must away.” I turn on my heel to flee, but Read’s ample hand stops me.
“Wait, you. We still have cards to play. I will not forfeit what has to be my lucky night, a chance to take back my property from your filthy clutches.”
“But……….there is no other convenient pub……..and I am tired, Read…….and we do not have a fourth.”
Father pipes up, “I shall be your fourth.”
“There now. It is settled. Where shall we play?” Read rubs his meaty hands together.
“In my Father’s house are many mansions……..and tables…….and chairs.” The Vicar spews a distillery. “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
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, the ninth post is here, the tenth post is here and the eleventh post is here. Thank you for reading.