More Short Stories to Read on a Bus, a Car, a Train, a Plane (or a comfy chair anywhere)

They spoke of length, weight, balance, material, the necessity of a camouflaging scabbard and Luigi became absorbed in this new project, this new very interesting project. It was a relatively easy task for him but the very interesting part was the customer. Finally, they arrived at money, as all business transactions are wont.

“This won’t be wildly expensive but you will have to leave a deposit to cover the cost of the raw materials. For that, I can give no discount,” he shrugged.

“How much, the deposit? And how much in total?”

“The materials are exotic but easily obtainable, around three thousand Euros. Three will be enough,” he watched her eyes as he mentioned the amount, she did nothing but nod so he went on. “My charge for moulding, machining, tempering and finishing will be considerably higher than that, but,” he added quickly, “it is a little quiet at the moment so I could spare a small discount, say, a total of twelve thousand Euros.”

She didn’t blink, instead reaching into her clutch again and withdrawing a small billfold. “Three now and another nine thousand on completion, yes?” This time it was he nodding. “And how long until completion?”

“About two weeks, but I’ll have to wait nearly a week for the special alloy. If it comes sooner I can finish sooner. Maybe I can call you …?”

She smiled and stood up, proffering a bundle of cash toward him. “No need Armandino, I will be back in two weeks.” He took the cash and was opening a desk drawer to retrieve a receipt book when he heard her tinkling footsteps. Surprised, he looked up. She was almost at the door when she whirled back to face him. She waved, a dismissal. “No need for that either. Goodbye for now Armandino, I will see you again soon.” She blew him a kiss.

“Wait, wait, what was your name again?” He started after her.

“Borsaki my darling, Borsaki,” and with that, she turned on her heel, the tinkling of the bell over the door and her heels dissipating together.

Luigi walked back and slumped down at his desk, the cash still ensconced in one hand but his eyes remained firmly fixed on the closed door where he had last seen her. He shook his head a little, and not for a second recognised the different name she had given before leaving. It was sometime before he locked the door and went upstairs to his little home to phone the metal supplier.

The elegant lady walked confidently around the corner to a waiting limousine. The back door opened as she approached and she began to laugh before getting into the car, sinking into the plush leather and surveying the elderly, and some surprised, faces around her. The oldest, a slightly built man dressed in a simple dark suit that clashed heavily with the large gold hoops hanging from each ear, grinned back at her.

“It went well then, I see,” and when she laughed a little more he added, “so tell us what you did to this little man so we may laugh along with you!”

“First, first, I told him my name was Chovani,” she laughed more, “then, wait for this one, I told him I would call him Armandino!” Some had laughed at the first name but all of the men broke into laughter at the second.

“You jest child?” asked one of the other men, also dressed plainly but he too adorned with somewhat smaller hoop earrings.

“No, no jest, and I thought he was supposed to be worldly and clever but he couldn’t see past my beautiful face … men!” She spat the last word savagely and silenced the laughter. She grinned but not the smile Luigi had seen, this time there appeared to be too many teeth, not beautifully full as he had seen but sharpened, pointed like the teeth of a shark. “Then I told him the truth, I told him who I really was, I told him my name was Borsaki and do you think that idiot noticed? NO, he was still far too enraptured in his appointed task, too sad that the beauty in front of him was leaving.”

“What if he is aware of the Romani folk?” another asked the elder.

The old man turned his eyes to the woman. “Yes, so you tell this man you are a witch, a good witch, then you use the name of a cursed one to address him, and you leave after telling him you are in fact an evil witch! What if he does know the Romani and works it out? He will not make the Trishul if he knows.” His voice gathered volume as he spoke and he pointed fixedly, accusingly, at the woman, with a single gnarled finger.

She laughed out loud, again, slapping her thigh in glee at their combined looks of shock. “Because I gave him the Solax to engrave onto the handle and he did not recognise the old speech. When he completes the engraving he will be putting a hex on himself, a curse that will see him dead within minutes, or hours, or days if he is extremely careful. But you tell me, how soon before a blade maker draws blood, mayhap when he shaves in the morning?” her laughing increased and the men in the car nodded their approval and laughed along with her. “It will end his blood line forevermore, justice finally after his family effected the deaths of hundreds of ours.”

The limo departed with its laughing occupants, leaving behind a reflective Luigi, upstairs in his apartment thinking of the woman who had come into his life so abruptly. Maybe, just maybe there is a chance for me to have a family, a heir, he was thinking. He picked up the telephone and called his special metals supplier again, this time he wanted a special express delivery. He was going to make sure this job was so exquisite she would drop dead at his feet in gratitude …..

============== THE END ===============

W156 That’s not ‘extreme’. That’s just stupid!

FINE DINING

Ever have one of those days, you know, the type of day that you wish you never got out of bed? Everybody has them, occasionally, some more than others, and for those who get out of the wrong side of bed on one of those days, it can be catastrophic, life defining, or life ending. Eve, Tom and Jerry shared one of those days together. The three close friends suffered at the hands of fate, a hand obviously dealt with the greatest amount of malicious intent with the aim of delivering the most brutal torment imaginable.

Eve slept in, her alarm inexplicably not working even though it had done so religiously for the past three months. She tripped over the cat (black of course) hurrying to the bathroom, chipped a tooth when she collided with the partially open door then in her half stupor, sat down on the toilet and began her business having forgotten to put up the lid. The warmth from her nether regions, not to mention the smell, performed the function that her alarm clock didn’t and she truly came awake quickly, jumping up and swivelling quickly to witness her stupidity. She cursed to the heavens with all her petite frame could muster but quickly realised there was something worse happening … she’d also forgotten to lower her panties. She didn’t believe for a second that her day could get any worse, however, this was just a prelude of what was to come!

Tom was always early to work, always. His nickname at work was ‘Early-Tom’ in fact, something his colleagues always managed to say with some form of added sexual innuendo, more often when there was an attractive new young lady in the office. This day Tom was not early, he wasn’t even on time – Tom was late. More than one person looked around the expanses of the office wondering why the lights weren’t on, why the coffee machine, printers and photocopiers were not operating. Some of them milled around the coffee machine studying how to make it work! Where was Tom, where was ‘Early Tom’? He was on the freeway, which was the actual reason Tom became ‘Early Tom’, because he liked to avoid the morning rush hour. Unfortunately, this day Tom had created a nightmare for commuters because he had smashed the brand new car he had picked up just the previous afternoon. Tom had bought a Ferrari, red of course, and yesterday drove it home with loving care, pride, and due attention. Tom’s mistake was believing he could leave home five minutes later now because a Ferrari was infinitely faster than the Prius he had traded. What Tom hadn’t reckoned on was the minor percentile increase in traffic just five more minutes added, and in his frustration at his potential late arrival, had attempted one too many gung-ho passing maneuvers. His brand new Ferrari currently occupied lanes three and four and a fair bit of overpass support pylon. Tom was fine; shaken, furious, frustrated but fine. The only condolence was the fact that if he had been in his Prius, he’d probably be seriously injured or worse. Worse was though, of course, yet to come.

Jerry was Tom’s best friend, had been since they started school together. But where Tom was always neat and punctual, not to mention well dressed, Jerry was slovenly and tardy. Casual, was how Jerry saw himself. Casual Jerry had met Eve about five years ago, a casual meeting at a bar, a casual meeting that turned into a casual relationship until Eve decided they should part ways and just be friends. Their casual relationship cum casual friendship actually turned into a full-on trio of close friends who, over the years, developed an understanding and acceptance of each other and their individual idiosyncrasies. Jerry only ever stressed over whether Tom and Eve would ever get together as a couple, though he had never dare share this thought with the pair of them lest he accidentally introduce something they had never thought about before. That would be an irony he could never accept. Jerry had a, well, a fairly casual morning so far, nothing stressful had happened that he’d noticed anyway and it had been a fairly typical day. That was until he got the first text message from his best pal Tom, and almost simultaneously, an email arriving pinged its existence on his computer, from Eve he saw. Both messages had the same heading – HELP!

Jerry acted immediately – comforting, supportive text messages, emails and follow up phone calls to his two best mates, his casual attitude actually helping to relieve their respective moods. But it didn’t last long as Tom soon discovered that the insurance on his Ferrari hadn’t been validated and approved and Eve received her nightmare client in person when he was only supposed to call to arrange an appointment. Naturally, the pair of them were at their lowest ebb by the end of the day and even Jerry was becoming concerned at what to do. Suddenly, he had a revelation. Tonight, the same night every week, the trio usually joined up for dinner. They’d been doing this for nearly three years, sans holidays and illnesses. Jerry understood he had to make tonight special, spectacular even to try and cheer his friends up after their respective disastrous day.

Jerry ate anything. Jerry ate everything. Tom and Eve were different though, their diets restricted to their chosen favourites irrespective of the cuisine. Jerry thought they were boring, unadventurous, dull, so he thought it was time to go to the extremes because nothing else would do it. There was one thing the three of them universally disliked, only one cuisine among hundreds they had always agreed was taboo, and that was spicy food, specifically, spicy Thai food. Sure they ate spicy Mexican food, spicy Chinese and Indian food, damn it, The Colonels Spicy Buffalo Wings were the best too but somewhere, somehow, the three of them had agreed never to eat Thai food. Jerry couldn’t recall when and why they had decided this but what he did know was after such an epic day, they needed to go to the extremes.

He emailed them both an address and a directive to meet him there at seven sharp this evening because they were all going out on a limb tonight. He didn’t tell them the name of the restaurant because tonight, they were going to live dangerously. It was now or never and he couldn’t see either of them refusing such was the downer they were suffering. Jerry was late getting to the restaurant and Tom was already there, naturally, walking the footpath out the front taking in the glowing neon announcing THAI FOOD. They shook grips and bumped shoulders as old mates do but Tom kept glancing at the sign. He made it clear he was not impressed with the idea but Jerry convinced him it was worth a try. Eve arrived just as Tom acquiesced and Jerry had to repeat the process but was at least supported by Tom now. After the day they had, what could be worse was the general feeling. Jerry was congratulating himself on a good decision.

All of them drank too many Phuket Lagers and Singha beers before attacking the seemingly unpronounceable menu. Their courage was up, albeit alcohol fuelled. A further round of beers followed after they ordered a kind of soup named Tom Yum (Eve chose this, because of Tom of course and Jerry’s eyes narrowed a little when she giggled her reasoning), Jerry chose the only dish he thought he could pronounce, Larp, but the waitress laughed and told him it was spoken as LarB, and Tom boringly decided on a Thai beef salad, because salads are not spicy are they! Neither Tom or Eve had eaten that day and both decided, with a gutful of beer behind them, that a little spicy Thai food wasn’t going to hurt anybody. They laughed at Jerry’s explanation of extreme dining and none of them could deduce who had decided Thai food was sacrosanct.

The first course arrived, the Tom Yum, the aroma permeated even their close to totally inebriated minds. They ate, gasped at the tartness, hissed at the sweetness and drank liberally to deny the harsh chili bite. Eve got the nose runs and used half the napkins stemming the flow, their loud laughter now was anesthetic bolstered by beer. Thai food wasn’t hot at all they laughed, but Tom was also sweating copiously from the forehead to go with Eve’s never ceasing nose runs. The Larp arrived before they finished their soups, LarB Larb, Larb they chorused loudly to other non-amused customers. Larp is served in a lettuce leaf and smells like heaven, even after the addictive aroma of the Tom Yum, it was something else again. They all plunged in, eating with their hands and even Jerry had to admit, it was firey-hot, but no-way was he going to admit it to the other pair. Firey-hot yes, delicious, a big yes! Tom’s sweat was making it hard to see as it ran down over his eyes, Eve felt like she was swimming in her nose runs. But oh, this food was so delectable.

Tom advised them to enjoy because next up was just a salad, which would naturally cool their palettes. The Thai Beef Salad arrived. This dish topped the first two, the aroma so tantalising they forgot their burning mouths, their beer filled heaving stomachs, their sweat and runny noses and they enthusiastically dove in, the sweet, salty, spicy beef melting on their tongues and even though none were hungry anymore, driving them on to eat more, more, more! They ate the salad, slammed it down followed by more beer and Eve was the first to go. She tipped the last of her beer down her throat, looked at Tom and Jerry and her eyes seemed to pop out of her head like a cartoon character, then her head fell face first straight into the plate in front of her. Jerry laughed out loud, he too suffering the sweats and a burning mouth but nothing more. He looked at Tom expecting to see him guffawing at the unfortunate Eve but instead, Tom’s head was wobbling like a dashboard mascot. The sweat running off him had soaked his shirt and created a sheen over his face that looked like varnish. His head too plummeted face first into the table but without the bellylaughing eye pops! Jerry did laugh though, what a night it had been and they would all be able to laugh together tomorrow and evermore about their calamitous day.

The waitress approached, she looked concerned. She had been concerned from the beginning when they began heavily drinking and now it was even worse. She looked at the laughing man, his face red and sweaty but he just looked drunk. She went to the woman first and gently touched her neck, feeling, hoping, praying for a pulse. There was none. The man beside her looked white and sickly but she thought she could see some slight movement but a similar check also discovered no pulse. She looked at the laughing man again, her eyes full of grief and anger.

“Why you tell me on telephone you all love very hot food, why you do this, why, you stupid, stupid man?” She ran off toward the phone and Jerry just kept laughing.

============== THE END ================

W157 You or your best friend will survive – but not both

BACHELOR PARTY

“Fool.”

“Asshole.”

“Dickwad.”

“Moron.”

“Fu.. God’s sake, stop it!”

“Sure, pussy!”

Brandon and Lee. Friends since, well since God was a boy! They were virtually inseparable after first meeting at kindergarten a million years ago it seemed to their long suffering parents and respective siblings. Never had the boys, now men, ever done an individual thing without the other, except for the obligatory responsibilities as members of different families but even then, on many occasions one or the other had managed to accompany his mate and their family to a boring visit at Aunt Edith’s (she of the unknown and spectacularly bad culinary ability) or a picnic in the field adjacent to the retirement home where Great Uncle Fred was pining away the last of his days. Friends for life. They even established their own business together, now a successful construction company, B&L Enterprises. The success in business, long term comradeship and life in general they both put down to the rock solid foundation of their love and support for each other as friends.

Lee had a steady girlfriend, Brandon was into experiencing life and every opportunity that came knocking, especially when it came to girls. It came as a surprise when Lee announced he had proposed to Leigh, his girlfriend, surprise to family and friends but more like shock for Brandon. He accepted that Lee and Leigh were made for each other and she even accepted that Lee spent almost more time with Brandon than he did at home with her. Brandon firmly believed that marriage or not, he and Lee would continue to live their lives as they always had. Friends, inseparable, together, forever.

Everybody knew Lee was the intelligent one of the duo, Brandon the knock-about, the handyman, the jack-of-all-trades and the one most likely to do something impulsive. Another surprise for all was when Lee further announced that he and Brandon would be going away for a camping weekend to a remote mountain lake, just the two of them, and he saw it as being his Bachelor Party. Everybody looked at Brandon believing this was his idea, had to be, but it was plain to even the ardent believer from the look of complete and utter shock on his face that Brandon had known nothing about the idea until this very moment. Surprise was replaced with awe, then exhilaration as he jumped up and grabbed his friend in a savage bear hug. All the guests smiled, happy for the two of them, even Leigh.

Brandon’s family had been concerned about him after the wedding announcement but as Brandon himself had demonstrated and voiced on numerous occasions, he was just happy for his friend, and as long as Lee was happy then so was Brandon. At times though, his brother and sister had seen the long face when Brandon had been sitting by himself believing he was not being observed. The pair worried about this and brought it to the attention of firstly Brandon who dismissed them as being “silly-billys”, then to their parents who advised them to leave well enough alone.

The big weekend finally arrived, faster than Brandon thought but they had been very busy with the wedding arrangement for the following weekend so the camping bachelor party weekend had crept up on him. After Lee had missed the turn-off, an ensuing and very normal and natural war of words had followed which, as usual, Brandon won.

“Sure pussy!” He repeated.

Lee ignored him. “You got cell coverage?” He reached and tapped at his dash mounted phone.