Everything I Am
“What can I give you that you do not already have?” William asked as he stood in the white glow of a street lamp.
She stood in the dark, just outside the circle that surrounded him. “Your heart,” she whispered and it carried like a soft breeze to his ears.
“My heart?”
“It is all I ask.”
“It is everything I am.”
“Then I want everything you are.”
“Someone else already has it.”
“Yes,” she said, dragging the word out in amusement. “Is she the same one who left?”
William looked down at the shadow that trailed from his feet, forming the silhouette that was his body. He nodded as tears slipped from his eyes. Then he turned and walked away. A moment later, the street lamp winked out.
***
“Love is a treacherous thing,” William said into the empty glass in front of him. A scrim of froth clung to the bottom of it.
“What are you on about?” the bartender asked as he took the glass and replaced it with another, this one full with William’s choice of drink.
He looked up to the tender, an older man with a bald head and hair in his ears. He had a dirty dishrag slung over his shoulder and his white shirt had a stain just below the left breast pocket.
“Love,” he said. “That’s what I’m on about.”
“A sticky subject there,” the tender said. He pulled the towel from his shoulder and wiped down the bar between them. He didn’t seem to notice the wet spot it left behind on his shirt.
“I guess so.”
“Broken hearted tonight?”
William shrugged. “I guess you can call it that.”
“Your lady friend leave you?”
William took a deep breath as tears formed in his eyes. He swallowed the knot in his throat. “No. I mean, yes. I mean, not exactly.”
The bartender slipped the dishrag back onto his shoulder and put his hands on his wide hips. “It’s either she did or she didn’t.”
William licked his lips. That knot tried to form in his throat again. Instead of swallowing, he coughed, forcing it away. “She did, but it’s been months since she left.”
The bartender nodded. William picked up the glass and took several deep swallows. It was cold, but not refreshing. He doubted he would ever feel refreshed again.
“You need to move on, Mister,” the bartender said. “You only have one shot at this life. Mourning the loss of a relationship will only bring you down. Find you another woman to give your heart to. One who won’t leave you this time.”
William laughed, a sound with no joy or humor in it, but one that wept. “That’s the sad thing about all this.”
“What’s that?”
“I did find someone.”
The bartender let go of a smile that showed he was missing one of his lower front teeth. “Then why are you here, drowning yourself in booze and not out with her?”
William ran his index finger along the top of the glass several times before answering. “She wants my heart.”
“Every one wants someone’s heart.”
“You ever give your heart away?” William asked his finger still running the edge of the glass.
“Once or twice, I reckon.”
“How’d it work out for you?”
The bartender shrugged, a simple up and down of the shoulders. “The first time, not so well. The second, well, we’re still together, so I guess that one turned out okay.”
“Second time was a charm?”
“You could say that, Mister.”
“I should probably leave now and go find her—the second woman, not the first one—and give her what she wants.”
“What are you waiting for? Give it to her. It’s not like it will kill you to do so.”
William stood from his stool and placed a five on the bar. He gave a knowing nod. “Thanks for the ear, man.”
***
William heard her calling him even before he made it to Itsover Lane.
"William, why won’t you come to me?"
Her voice was haunting and hypnotizing, and was that desire he heard? He wasn’t sure—he hadn’t heard that sound in what seemed like years. Still, he listened to the pull of her voice, to the seductive promise in it.
"We can be together forever, William. Just give me your heart."
William stepped into the road. Just as he did so, the streetlamp came on, lighting up the very spot he stood.
“I’m here,” he said, a quiver in his voice.
“You came back.”
He nodded.
“Are you going to give me your heart, My Dear?”
“Yes,” William said and slipped the gun from his waistband.
“Just take my hand and I’ll take care of the rest,” she whispered as she stepped from the shadows in a black robe, and a hood that concealed her face. She stretched out a boney hand.
Tears fell from William’s eyes. His chest was heavy and he was suddenly very tired.
“Do you give me your heart, William?”
“Yes,” he said and took her hand. As he did so, he saw the blade of the scythe …
… and the gun went off.
A moment later, the streetlamp winked out.