We Have A Winner - Part Two - Complete
The next day I brought the ticket to the claims office where inspectors checked the ticket to make it hadn’t been forged, altered, or tampered with in any form.
If they only knew.
Next, I had to fill out forms in triplicate stating who I am, where I live, occupation, next of kin and so forth. The next form I had to check off one box and sign my name. There were two choices: one lump sum, or one payment a year for twenty years. I marked off one lump sum. The next form was for tax purposes. This way, the IRS gets their fair share and anyone else I may have owed before I get the lion’s share, which after taxes came to a little over eighteen million.
These guys should buy their own ticket.
What they didn’t tell me, which I already knew, is that they would run a criminal background check for any outstanding warrants, arrests, things like that. Let’em check. They won’t find a thing. Tomorrow after noon, I’ll be laughing all the way to the bank. Tomorrow, a press conference would be held to officially present me with the check.
After I signed all the agreements and complied with their stipulations, I paused and thought about that other contract I signed at my apartment. Screw’em. I’ll get out of that somehow. Now that I have the bucks, I can do anything. I’ll worry about Dr. Death later.
_________
“I can’t take it no more! I’m tired, so tired. Please, let me get some rest. I need to rest.”
“Rest! REST! There is no rest in Hell, Brian McAble. Continue to fuel the master’s fires with more coals!”
I bolted upright from bed drenched in sweat. Looking around me, I realized it was just a dream. Looking at my watch, it’s 2:05 in the morning.
I couldn’t sleep the rest of the night.
__________
Twenty years can go by in the blink of an eye. But they have been good years for me.
What a hell of a time I’ve had. I’ve bought eight cars, nine homes, six of which I rent out. I have three condos, two villas. A sixty-foot yacht and a Lear Jet.
I’ve been around the world several times. London, Japan, Australia, Spain, Monte Carlo and even spent a year in Vegas in a penthouse suite. I was living the life.
When I was in Vegas, yeah, I spent money but not just on gambling. Entertainment and parties was my thing. I was being flashy, but the staff at the hotel treated me like I was royalty.
Because of my wealth, the hotel even provided me with their own security staff in the event someone might have tried to harm me. Me. A guy who could barely afford a six-pack of Schlitz, and here I am now drinking class scotch, eating the best food, wearing five-hundred-dollar suits (one for every day of the year), and expensive shoes to match. I switched from cigarettes to a pipe, showing I had some class. Class, man. Class.
The best thing was the women. I mean you have no idea what it’s like to have this much bread and have the ladies hang all over you, and under you. Before all this, a broad wouldn’t look at me sideways; now they look at me in all ways. Wherever I go, there are always beautiful women by my side. Hell, when I threw my first private party, the champagne flowed, the food kept coming, the music played all night, and when I woke up the next morning in my overly large bed, there were two women under the cool satin sheets; both blondes and both gorgeous. I couldn’t remember much of what happened with the three of us the night before but after they woke up, I remember what happened that morning. When they left four hours later, I couldn’t have gotten it up with a forklift. Yeah, that first year was special, and it cost me nine-hundred grand. It was worth it.
Like I did from the first year to now, I hired an attorney to take two-hundred grand from my account and invest it in real estate, CD’s, and other shareholdings.
After I call him today, I have to get down to my yacht. I’m going to Jamaica for a three-week cruise with Diana, Jessica and Brittany. Another fun trip. I love how I live.
“Yeah and add the last thirty grand to ICOR Industries. I got a tip from a pretty good source their stocks are on the rise and I want in on the short buck before it hits its peak. Thanks, Dan. Don’t forget to take your normal ten percent and the ten for the broker. Talk to you later.”
After I hung up, I headed for the shower when I smelled that smell.
“Brian McAble, I have returned.”
“NO!” I had forgotten all about him. What do you want with me? It can’t be time yet. I still have money. All of my obligations are taken care of, and I don’t owe anyone a dime.”
I was shaking as hard as I was the first time we met. The sweat was dripping from me as if I had been caught in a heavy downpour.
“You have forgotten like so many others have. I came only to remind you of our agreement. Whatever you do, you cannot cheat the Master. Soon, Brian McAble, you will belong to the Master, who will deal with you as he sees fit.”
“Yeah, well, well you can’t touch me now. I have plenty of money, investments and ….”
“I can smell your fear and it is a good smell. No, I have not come for you, only to remind you when next we meet, it will be to claim you in the agreement of the contract you signed of your own free will and choice, Brian McAble. And it will be soon, sooner than you expect.”
He disappeared as did the dark cloud of smoke that surrounded him. In the empty space where he had stood, I can still see those fiery red eyes of his and hear the echo of his harsh laughter in my mind.
I called room service as I was at a country club and ordered someone to bring me a pack of cigarettes. Within five minutes there was a knock on the door. I gave the porter a five-dollar tip, shut and locked the door and started chain-smoking.
“I forgot about him, but I know I can beat him. All I have to do is die having money. I’ll always have money.
“Always.”
__________
“Listen, Dan, do what I’m going to tell you and don’t ask questions or say one word. I just got back from Jamaica and I’ve been doing some thinking. I want you to put up all the villas, all the houses but one on the selling block. Sell all my cars except the black limo. Sell the boat … yes the fucking boat, are you deaf! Find a buyer for the jet and—quit fucking interrupting me, dammit!
"Get ahold of my broker and have him distribute the profits from the sales evenly into all the stocks that are making big bucks. I want a financial statement of my net worth in my hands by tomorrow morning. Yes, I said tomorrow morning, so get to it, now!”
I hung up the phone, went to the fridge and popped open a can of Schlitz. Look at me, already I’m trying to conserve money.
Sitting on my sofa, I hit the remote and there before me was what started it all. “… and 28. Perhaps tonight will find a lucky ….” I shut the TV off.
__________
I was on the edge of hell. Looking down, I could see red smoke curling upward, rising up and covering my shoes. From far below I could hear wailing cries, piercing shrieks of the damned and already doomed. Hands were clawing forth, reaching out with long thin fingers burnt beyond the color of ashes. They were trying to pull me down into the pit of hell. I could hear their voices.
“It is time, Brian McAble. It is time.”
I tried to back away, but my legs were rooted to the edge.
Frozen.
“You cannot run. You cannot hide. The Master is waiting. He commands you to serve him, to do his bidding.”
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
__________
The portable phone next to my bed rang.
Waking in a sweat, I reached for it and cried, “I’m not going, I’m not … oh, sorry, Dan, it’s you. I was having a bad dream is all. What have you got for me?” Listening, I fired up a cigarette, got out of bed and pulled another Schlitz from the fridge.
“Good enough. Just make sure I get those numbers delivered to me today. Now listen carefully. I want you to take your usual cut, plus twenty more this time. This is the last time I’ll need your services. From here on out, I’m going to deal directly with my broker. Yeah, something’s bugging me, but it’s none of your business, and doesn’t involve you to begin with. It’s personal, okay? Oh, and Dan, thanks for everything.” I hung up the phone back in the bedroom.
__________
Taking a heavy swallow of beer by a heavy drag off my cigarette, I wiped the back of my hand across my lips and smiled. I’m worth a little more than two-hundred million. The way I figured it, being sixty-one, I won’t have a problem dying rich from old age.
There ain’t no way he can collect.
I’ve beat him.
“Yeah, there ain’t no way in or out of hell he can touch me.”
__________
Today, I am a century old.
It’s been years since I heard from that foul-smelling creep. I beat him or else he would have showed his face by now. He knows he can’t win. I’m still rich. I made it and the prick can’t do anything about it.
I don’t get around very good these days. I’m in a wheelchair and I have a private nurse living in my house in Rosemont, just south of San Diego. Great view of the lake and the surrounding property. Every day I watch the boats speeding by and the girls parading around in their bikini’s, their tits bobbing up and down when running around, asses vibrating just so; it makes me remember the old days.
Every night, Louise, my nurse, reads the evening paper to me. She thinks I’m strange as all I have her read is the financial section and stock quotes. Last night she helped me figure out my total net worth was close to three-hundred million. Eat your heart out, red eyes.
Glancing at the wall clock, it’s almost seven. Seven is when she reads to me. Here she comes. And she doesn’t look very happy either.
“What’s wrong, girl? You look like you just lost your best friend.”
“Mr. McAble, I don’t know how to tell you this but ….”
“But what? Spit it out, Louise. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s here, on the front page. I bought several papers today because I knew you would want to know, and, and, it’s been on the news all day, and, and ….” She was crying.
“Calm down, Louise. I haven’t watched television all day. What the hell are you trying to say?”
“The stock market has gone under. I’m terribly sorry, Mr. McAble.”
I looked at her through my tired old eyes and felt the color evaporate from my face. I felt weak and every bit twice my age. Self-doubting anger kicked in and I snatched the newspapers from her hands.
New York Times: MAJOR U.S. INDUSTRIES GO UNDER. Chicago Sun: GOVERNMENT CANNOT GIVE RELIEF. Washington Post: PANIC BREAKS AS AMERICANS MAKE RUN ON BANKS. Boston Globe: STOCK MARKET TAKES ITS DEEPEST PLUNGE SINCE 1929.
I sat back in my wheelchair and expel a whoosh of air in defeat. I have to think about all this. This can’t be happening to me. It just can’t be.
“Louise, please, leave me alone. I need some time to myself.”
As she stood to leave, I watched her short and bulky frame waddle away. All the planning, all the work I’ve done to keep him away was for nothing. Nothing.
My soul can’t be of any use to him now. I mean, I’m old and frail. Maybe he’s forgotten. Maybe, but I doubt it. Guys like him are like bad breath, they just keep coming back and it never gets better.
That smell. I know that smell. Death. He’s here.
“You are right, Brian McAble. I have not forgotten. It is time.”
“Why now? What use am I to you, now? I’m old. My body can’t be of any use, not for what you guys want. Let’s call it a bad investment on your part.”
“How ignorant you are, and others like you have been. Age has nothing to do with our agreement. True, your body is withered and frail, nearing exhaustion, but the soul is always youthful after death, full of vitality. Once you return with me to greet the Master, you will become his slave above your wildest nightmares. You shall suffer the hell you so richly deserve. Brian McAble, when you signed the contract, your soul belonged to the Master at the age you were then. In your new domain, your soul will never be older than it was the time we first met and shall never age.”
My heart was beating faster.
“I know I could have beaten you. I know I could have.”
“Even if you had died rich; is that what you choose to believe? Wrong. Once you had died, you would have no longer have been able to fulfill and meet your obligations and you would still be the master’s property.”
I stared at his piercing red eyes and finally understood the horror of it all. Maybe, just maybe I can gamble in hell and be a winner. Make a trade off of some sort. My soul for another.
“Brian McAble, you have no trade-offs. Your soul belongs to the Master. It is time.”
He extended his arm, pointing his finger, and touched my face.
I felt the heat.
So dry. So hot.