Jim sat at the bar as he normally did every time around this day and time in Vibora Bay. By closing time, Ursala the bouncer would peel him off the stool and pack him up in her car, and drive the four blocks back to his place, pull him out of the car, carry him up the stairs two flights, unlock the door with the key she had for just this occasion, and deposit him on his couch.
This had happened every week for about three months. Ursala didn’t mind. She remembered what happened the first Sunday night he had done this. He was bailed out by Ursala herself that night, covered in blood and flesh not his own. Bones of Dogz were found as far north as the back yard of the church. It took weeks for the city workers to get the blood out of the cobblestones, even with bleach.
Ursala’s cousin rented the single room apartment to Jim after his boyfriend had left town with not so much as a “by your leave”. He’d just come in, packed his things, uttered something like, “This isn’t going to work out,” and walked out, leaving him with a pile of money to keep him living there for another few months if he wanted to. He didn’t. He immediately went to Ursala’s brother’s bar and Ursala took pity on him, telling him about her cousin’s boarding house.
Now it was going on the fourth month and Ursala was sitting at the doorway of the bar, sipping her cold lemonade and wiping her brow from the heat. Jim was on his fourth martini and sinking them fast.
The door opened and a wisp of cool air and sea smell wafted in. Following that was a man all in white, in a white suit and a bowler hat, and even a walking cane. He nodded to Ursala and started across the bar floor, heading straight for Jim.
Jim turned his head and then back to his martini. He drank it down quickly. “Was wondering how long it was going to take you to get here.”
“Considering the last time I was here, you were a very happy man, I thought that this was the right time.”
Jim placed his martini glass on the bar and motioned with his head. “And another one for this one here.”
“No, no thank you, I think I would like an Irish whiskey.”
“Got a thing for the Irish?”
“I know plenty of them,” he said, and sat in the stool next to Jim. “So why aren’t you in Vegas?”
“I’m not doing that shit anymore.”
“So you’re a dockworker now?”
“I work in the office.”
“I see. And life is so fulfilling there?” He picked up his whiskey and he sipped it. “Ah, yes, my complements.” He set the shotglass down. “What about my payment?”
“You’re not this direct.”
“You’re not this depressed. I want my payment before your liver gives out.”
“Your payment. You mean my blood on a certain piece of parchment.”
Ursala’s ears perked up.
“If you’re not going to use what I gave you, then I might as well see it returned or gain payment for it.”
“You said it was a gift. Now I have to pay for it?”
“It was a gift at the time, and you made a lot of money from it. Now you’re doing what? Counting cargo on an abacus?”
Jim snarled, and Ursala got up. She brought her body-builder’s physique over to Jim and said, “Jim, honey, he botherin’ you?”
“No,” said Jim. “He’s looking for something.”
Ursala looked over Jim’s shoulder at the man. She could take him, no problem…normally. But something behind his eyes, something was sinister, that meant he was not only not that easy to take down but he fought dirty to boot.
“Let’s get it over with.” Jim stuck out his hand.
Startled for just a mere moment, the man took out a machine that looked like a small cigar. He placed one end of it at the tip of the Jim’s index finger. All three heard a slight, “click” and the man pulled the machine away.
“Wait, that’s it? No writing in blood on some old and dusty parchment?”
“Advanced technology from UPS,” said the man “Amazing, isn’t it?”
At the tip of the man’s index finger, a pinprick of blood welled up. The man took a napkin and placed it on Jim’s finger. “I’ll be seeing you in twenty years, Jim.” The man slid off the stool, tipped his hat to Ursala, and left, leaving the whiskey at the bar.
“If not earlier,” said Jim, and he raised his glass, downing it swiftly. “See ya later, Old Nick.”
The door swung closed.