My submission to the 18th Annual Short Prose Competition\u00a0for Developing Writers. Less than 2500 words.<\/p>\n
The room was filled with thick, grey smoke. I hated smoke \u2013 it irritated my throat and burned my eyes. I struggled to find the source. Through the clouds I found a man sitting at the back table smoking a cigarette. He was expecting me. I made my way through the bar towards him. He was wearing a bright red, silk shirt. Hung tightly around his neck was a thin, black tie. He motioned for me to sit.<\/p>\n
I slid into the empty chair across from him and glanced at the two glasses on the table. One was filled with untouched, clean, scotch. The other was filled halfway with only ice. The waitress asked me what I wanted. She had no idea how much of a loaded gun that question was.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust water\u201d, I stared at the man sitting across from me. He wore dark sunglasses to hide his eyes. In the opposite corner, a small three man band played jazz in cheap, wrinkled suits.\u00a0 I swallowed my nervousness and forced myself to speak. I put out my hand and tried to introduce myself but he immediately raised a finger to his lips to silence me.
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\nThe waitress placed a tall glass of ice water on the table in front of me and went on her way. I sat, staring at it, waiting for something to happen.\u00a0I glanced up as he reached into his glass and lifted a single ice cube. He played with it, letting it slide along his chocolate coloured fingers with a surprising amount of control. It didn\u2019t melt \u2013 nothing dripped onto the table. After a while, he put it in his mouth.<\/p>\n
The band began playing \u201cSissy Strut\u201d by The Meters. I wiped the sweat from my brow. It was bloody hot in there. The smoke had really begun to dry out my throat. I didn\u2019t touch my water.\u00a0 He grabbed another ice cube, played with it, and then dropped it back into his glass. I was staring at his cigarette. It had remained unchanged, no ash at the end. He hadn\u2019t inhaled. It was as though the sole purpose of that cigarette was to dispense smoke to add to the room ambience.\u00a0 Suddenly, he spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know who you are and why you\u2019re here\u201d. His voice was rough, deep and confident. \u201cAny questions that I ask you tonight are purely for my own amusement. I already know the answers\u201d. While he spoke his cigarette remained unmoved from his lower lip. \u201cOf course, you will answer them anyway. Understood?\u201d I tried to answer but my throat was too dry. I could only nod. I reached for my glass of water, wrapped my fingers around the cool surface but couldn\u2019t bring myself to lift it.\u00a0 \u201cSo what is it you want?\u201d his lips curled into a twisted smile, \u201cand let\u2019s skip the jokes about golden fiddles\u201d. He stirred his scotch with his finger.<\/p>\n
I could have asked for anything now that I was finally meeting him. Money, women, fame, talent but there was only one thing I was willing to ask for. I cleared my throat so I could speak. He stopped stirring and slowly lifted his finger. He raised it eye level and stared at it, watching the scotch drip onto the table.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd what, exactly, is wrong with her?\u201d He wasn\u2019t even looking at me now, just at his finger. I stared along with him.<\/p>\n \u201cAIDS\u201d, I choked on the word. His eyes shifted to mine.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry?\u201d He asked with a hint of amusement. He could tell this was killing me.<\/p>\n \u201cShe has AIDS\u201d. \u00a0I stared intently at my glass of water, watching the condensation run down the sides. I knew what he was getting at, what he wanted me to talk about. I didn\u2019t know if I could get it out.<\/p>\n \u201cGo on\u201d, his eyes moved to the small puddle of scotch that had dripped onto the table.\u00a0 He ran his fingers through it, playing with it.<\/p>\n \u201cYou already know what I\u2019m going to say\u201d my voice trembled, \u201ccan we just skip this and negotiate a deal. The entire topic is rather painful\u201d. He choked out a laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cHave you forgotten who I am? What I do? Did you expect me to come all the way out here to give you a hug, tell you everything would be alright and cure your wife?\u201d He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped the spattered liquid from the table. \u201cThat wouldn\u2019t make for a very interesting story now would it?\u201d. He smirked. \u201cAnd who\u2019s fault was that?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cMine\u201d. I glared at him. \u201cI was doing it for a long time. I started before I had even met her. I forced her into it. She was very vulnerable and I threatened to leave her if she didn\u2019t do it. She became dependant on it. She hated what she had become and she blamed me for it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would you force that kind of life on someone you loved?\u201d the smoke billowed from his cigarette.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t love her \u2013 that was the problem\u201d, it pained me to remember. \u201cAt the time I didn\u2019t love anyone, I was in a very dark place. I used her. For money, sex, whatever I could get. She needed me, loved me, and I took her for all she had\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cIsn\u2019t that sweet\u201d, his expression was unchanged. He looked at me in disgust. That stung, especially considering who he was. I wrapped both of my hands around the cool glass and pulled it closer to me. Most of the ice had melted. My throat was getting dryer but still, I did not drink.<\/p>\n \u201cLike I said, I was in a dark place\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cSo then what?\u201d he folded his hands and grinned like a child waiting for his birthday present. \u201cYou know nothing of hell\u201d, he interrupted. I winced and stared at him. My throat was so dry. It hurt to swallow. I grabbed my glass with my hand and played with the condensation running down the side. He stared at me. I could feel his eyes, under the glasses, burning holes into my soul. \u201cSo you both lived happily ever after then. Well, except for the AIDS.\u201d\u00a0 I spent a few seconds trying to clear my throat.<\/p>\n \u201cA few months after, Georgia started showing symptoms. She was losing weight, 15 pounds in two months I believe. She would periodically break into these hot spells where she would sweat profusely. She was easily confused and would sporadically forget things.\u201d I drew patterns in the water that had dripped onto the table. \u201cShe went to the doctor. He told her she was HIV positive. He said it wouldn\u2019t be long before she had full blown AIDS. He said something about a reduced number of C4 lymph nodes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCD4-lymphocytes\u201d, he corrected me.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. He said she got it from the needles we used\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, why didn\u2019t you get it too? No romps in the bedroom?\u201d he smirked.<\/p>\n \u201cAfter what happened\u201d, I paused. I couldn\u2019t get into that. \u201cWe weren\u2019t ready for kids so we always used a condom. The pill caused problems, really messed with Georgia\u2019s \u2018cycles\u2019. I got tested just in case. Nothing showed up, other than the damage the drugs had already done to my body.\u201d I stared at my hands. \u201cI don\u2019t know how it happened. We were so careful with the needles. We never shared, they were always clean.\u201d I wiped my fingers off in my jacket, drying them. \u201cThat was two years ago. The treatment hasn\u2019t done anything. She won\u2019t last much longer\u201d. \u201cBut I\u2019ve changed\u201d, I pleaded. He took his cigarette out of his mouth. Instantly the flame went out. The smoke stopped billowing out of the end but the air didn\u2019t clear. \u00a0He placed it behind his ear.<\/p>\n \u201cYou met a beautiful, wonderful girl and destroyed her life. You stole from her, lied to her, and introduced her to a horrifying world that has led to her death and now, after years of selfish acts that could be described as nothing less than evil \u2013 acts that you have avoided talking about tonight \u2013 you find your conscience. Now that you see the consequences of your actions you want\u00a0me<\/em> to make it all better\u201d.<\/p>\n I tried to protest, to explain that it wasn\u2019t like that. My throat wouldn\u2019t let me speak. I broke into a fit of coughing which resulted in blood dripping from my lips to the table. I quickly reached for my glass. As I picked it up, I stumbled, dropping it. The mouth of the glass landed on the edge of the table spilling all of its contents onto the floor.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not a picky man\u201d he said with a look of amusement on his face. \u201cThough, I\u2019ll admit, there has been no shortage of souls coming my way as of late. No matter. I\u2019ll make the deal. Consider this your last chance to back out.\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t even need to think it over. After reminiscing on the past, all of the memories came flooding back \u2013 even the parts I left out. The night we met. At the end of the night we went back to her place. I discovered how well off she was, what she could do for me. We fooled around. She was drunk, I went too far. She was too afraid to say no.<\/p>\n I remembered when she told me she was pregnant. I forced her to get an abortion. She put up a bit of a fight. I remember arguing about it while a needle hung from my arm. I wouldn\u2019t let her say no.<\/p>\n I remembered the time period after the abortion. She was so upset. She cried all the time so one night I stuck a needle into her arm just to shut her up. I told her if she said no I would leave her. She would be completely alone. She couldn\u2019t bear to say no. Now, I had to say yes. For her.<\/p>\n \u201cMake the deal\u201d I forced it out. I could taste the blood. \u201cWhat happens now?\u201d I asked, \u201cAm I supposed to sign something\u201d. He grinned at me.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. You couldn\u2019t back out now if you tried. Now you just continue to live your pathetic life. Once you\u2019re done, I\u2019ll be there to collect what\u2019s mine.\u201d I got up to leave. \u201cOne more thing\u201d, he put the cigarette back in his mouth. It relit itself. Smoke began pouring out of the tip again. \u201cWhen the doctor diagnosed Georgia, were you there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I was out of town on business\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re out of town a lot, aren\u2019t you?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYes. My job requires it\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cSo she told you herself how she got infected..\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you getting at?\u201d I was losing my patience.<\/p>\n \u201cNothing. Enjoy the remainder of your life. Your wife will be back on her feet in no time\u201d<\/p>\n That was three months ago. I never really knew what he meant until a few weeks after Georgia was cured. \u00a0The doctors described the recovery as a miracle from God. They had no idea. She wasn\u2019t paying for her heroin supply. That would have been too obvious. Instead, she was sleeping with her dealer. She had been for months. He died of AIDS shortly after Georgia was diagnosed. I could put two and two together.<\/p>\n She left me. I never heard from her again. I found out that she had run off with a rough crowd. Rough even for her. After some time with them, she overdosed. The doctors couldn\u2019t bring her back.\u00a0 She was dead. Just over two months after my meeting in the bar.<\/p>\n She was gone. Before she left she had taken every valuable I had. She left me with nothing. The only thing I had left was a pistol with a single shot. I couldn\u2019t pull the trigger. Unlike most people who try to take their own life, I knew exactly what would happen if I did.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My submission to the 18th Annual Short Prose Competition\u00a0for Developing Writers. Less than 2500 words.<\/p>\n
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\n\u201cMy wife Georgia\u201d, my voice cracked at first but loosened up, \u201cshe\u2019s very sick\u201d, I paused a moment, \u201cshe\u2019s dying\u201d. I know it sounded clich\u00e9, like some sappy romance novel or date night movie, but when you think about it,\u00a0really<\/em> think about it, are money and fame really worth the price of your soul? Only one thing is really: love.<\/p>\n
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\n\u201cMy wife and I went through a hard time\u201d, I hissed through my teeth, \u201cWe experimented on a lot of heavy drugs. Cocaine, heroin, meth and a lot of small time stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\n\u201cWe gave it up\u201d, I said matter-of-factly. \u201cOne day we decided to call it quits. We went into detox, thanks to the funding from her parents. By then we had both used up all of our money \u2013 her money. We cut ourselves off completely. We signed up for self-help programs, took on sponsors. We grew so much closer. We used wedding planning as a distraction. I finally felt true love. I owed everything to her. After a long period of hell, we got through it.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\n\u201cSo you came to me\u201d he adjusted the way he sat. \u201cTo tell you the truth, I don\u2019t know if this was worth my time\u201d. My stomach sank. I stared into his glasses trying to find his eyes. \u201cJudging by your story, I shouldn\u2019t have to bargain at all. If I\u2019m patient your soul will come to me anyway. I own your soul by default. Nobody else would want it.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\n\u201cIt\u2019s done\u201d. Immediately my throat eased up. I could swallow again and the copper taste had left. I had expected him to disappear in a puff of smoke or something dramatic, but he just sat there, stirring his scotch with his finger.<\/p>\n
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\nAfter something this \u201cmiraculous\u201d happens to a person, they usually come out of it with a whole new perspective on life, a second chance, a time to make things right. Not Georgia. Though, she did try to make things right. She confessed that she was back on the drugs. She said it had been going on for quite some time but I had been away too much to notice. I noticed, I just wouldn\u2019t allow myself to believe it.<\/p>\n