Bethany

When I met him, he was drunk as hell. The bar was packed full.

 Everybody carried themselves with sensible civility. But he was

of different background, he didn’t at hear to any commoners

displayed, or to oppose any threat on an unsuspected dame.”

Bar keep…fetch me your finest ale!!!”(He was obviously –of

English descent).” What does a handsome guy like you, do in

a dump like this?” uttering the words, every time was infuriating,

again and again.

As if thought he wasn’t drunk enough, even the most intoxicated

would know.”Hey I’m not inter…well, well, you are a sexy fox,

aren’t you?” The drunk welsh said disgustingly “Do you like your

wife as much as me?”, I puckered my lips and laughed at him

childishly, innocently, purely as I could “I should be a writer” I

thought at one moment but dismissed the idea altogether at the

other.

 “My wife has been dead for 12 years, and I haven’t seen my daughter for 10 of those years..”, he murmured incessantly. I concluded I’ve picked a damaged one and moved on. The next fellow was much more obliged and wanted to settle for a bargain,” 50 bucks…I can make your every dream come true…”I snickered at him. A twenty something, with a short army type hair and robust figure, I imagine I would enjoy this one as inebriated as he was. We stepped out he slung his drink at the floor, and lit a cigarette, his eyes were godlike and bluish my back was freezing, he offered his coat like a “gentleman” should.

” So…where you from?”`. He instigated a casual but somewhat

important chit chat “I’m from Long Island” …I lied “and you”

repeating courteously.”I’m from Austin, a ranch boy, but I signed

to the marine court not long ago”. The information passed on to

deaf toned ears, we walked further down, crossing the fogy street,

a taxi almost hit us,” Be careful”, he yelled, I was beginning to worry

as to where we’re going to stay.” What’s your name?” he put his arm around me like a bully redneck. “My name is Bethany” I twisted the truth well bent it is more like it.” That’s a beautiful name, for a beautiful girl…”I lit a cigarette, he offered me light, I took it. 

 We passed the old park, their seemed to be a shortage of people, in the street, no one, but me and “buffalo bill” were going to resist the cold.”New Year’s Eve is dim and cold this year I analyzed. “Do you live around here?” we walked up the passageway steps; I couldn’t help but wonder, “did everyone disappear just because of me?”

“No, we can find some hotel that pays by the hour, if you like sugar”. He finally dropped his dependence on me, easing my heart, “sugar, what am I a candy store?””Ok, I know a great one! where we can have a lot of fun” I continued the act unwillingly, unnecessarily.

We made haste for the castle. To get the shameful act done with, when suddenly he spoke his name “You know … my parents called me Stan, you know, like the actor…” nonsense was coming out of his mouth. The door was rushing towards us and the moon followed ,shining blissful, almost serene letters were popping up ” The Grand Hotel” .The doorman saw me first and then “Stan” ,he looked at me with more deprecation ,than any other man in my life did. The reception booth, the entrance hall was abandoned ,a lightning struck and I flinched  and jumped to hillbillies arms he seemed content, considering his physical state,” Let’s go sugar”,again…? .

 “Hi, we would like a room for tonight”. The concierge was an old soul, but young in body, his look was a familiar one, one of contempt and pity.”That’ll be 50, it’s our last room”, I knew he was lying,” That is fine”,” Room 301″.He handed me the key with a grin, an evil smile of realization,

I despised it and grabbed the key violently, at this point I dragged “Bill” in my punish arm, his insight was distorted and pale. I pressed floor 3, and we traveled upwards, the moment the door slammed shut, Stan was all over me.

.” Wait baby…wait until we at least get to the room, then you can open your present” he was persistent and kept trying to reach for the “goods”, “I can’t wait!” He calmed down the hungry gurgantous beast finally at the last stop”3″.I said in my coarsening voice and lured him out. The floor was silent, like the back door at the club and like the street and the park .The light flickered on us, as if it’s been illuminated just for us.”Bill “was at a breaking point “You can’t give up now, be a man!” I screamed, he bounced backed to reality and put his hand on my hand, stroking my hair slowly like a loving father to his daughter. 

” I love you Bethany. I really do” not knowing what love is. As I turned the key , my body was in shambles, tremors and shakiness I never experienced with any other, probably because Stan won’t to be able to withstand me and keel hallway in .I thwarted the door ,as if drunk myself, Stan located the bed , faster than a cheetah recovers it’s prey. I looked at that flat, a small waste dump; the curtains were the only object of affection I could concoct in a heat of a second. He dropped his pants and untied his shirt slowly now, the liquor was clouding his mind. I protested the charade and started stripping “Do you want to be a man Stanley?!” I gurgled the words, as if after a hangover after a night of excessive alcohol consumption.

He started touching my breast and in no time, he committed the Haynes crime “I love you Bethany!!!” He mumbled with a cigarette in the side of his mouth. I lit a cigarette “Where’s my money?!” I said now not caring for “bill’s” fate.”Here you go sugar!!!” He put the money on the counter and left.

I tied my bathroom robe and out of nowhere I began to cry “Why is my life turned up like this!!” I screamed over and over pulling the drapes, those beautiful ones. I opened the liquor cabinet and went through all labels

” He crossed the street when out of the blue fogginess a cab drove by and hit him, I heard a loud inhuman voice and then nothing, “Bill” was dead. I rushed to the elevator; the lobby was dark once again. I threw myself to the ground, ” God why this one? why?!!”, his eyes were fully grey, no hint of sky and freedom; was left in him, he died a fool, not a soldier.

The Police came and a tall shadowy figure presented the dismal account and gravity of the increment, “Hello miss, my name is detective Sudsie, do you know the victim?”.”All I know is that his name was Stan”. I lied once again. His head was lain on the ground as if he is Christ himself rendering me incapable of speech I stared at his beautiful bloodied corpse I wept ,and  buried my face in my laps , the broken glass of the taxi shimmered as if taunting my state of mind , it rekindled unwanted memoirs of my youth beguiled by the connection , one I thought I will never come to I pleaded “Why this one? , he was so young , I am so young why?”  laced by a black bag that was thrown over his head like garbage disposed and grouped to its designated bin. His crushed body still haunted me that very night, I lit a cigarette.

The moon was rising looking gloomy and reddish than it ought to be the sign of end times called me fourth to glide and back again to descend, undoubtedly godly like. I kept Stan’s memory for I bonded my souls to him. The only thing I told him that was real; I did live on Long Island, what a fool I was to deprave him of nothing but the truth.

(c) 2015  All rights reserved to Guy Dazin