My Ship Comes In, Excerpt 14: a fool and his money soon parted….

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My Ship Comes In, Excerpt 14: a fool and his money soon parted….

May 30, 2022 by T.K. O'Neill

“My Ship Comes In” is the fourth story, a novella, in T.K. O’Neill’s Northwoods Pulp Reloaded collection of three short crime stories and this longer story. Ebook available here.

Behind the leather-covered bar is a bartender, a few beer signs and a lot of bottles. Dory and I have a couple beers and get to talking. Then we get to laughing about things and teasing each other. Things seem to be going well, you know how it is. Once in a while she puts her hand on my arm, real friendly and warm. I buy her a pack of Chesterfields, which she tells me are her “favorite.” But they don’t have them everyplace, so then she has to smoke Winstons.

I get the change and realize I’m down to my last five bucks. I have no idea how I’m going to get more. A pang hits my gut. But hey, a fool and his money are soon parted they say, and I’ve just proved it.

“We’ve got to go,” I say, suddenly sober.

“You don’t look so good, Keith,” she says. “Is it me? You can leave me here if you want.”

“No, it’s not you, Dory. It’s me. I’m down to my last five bucks. But you’re welcome to share it with me.”

“Cheer up, sweetie, things’ll work out,” she says, turning on the sunshine. “How about I drive? Never driven one of those hippie vans before.”

“No, I’m all right,” I look in her eyes, still trying to get a read. “I can drive if I can do anything. Problem is I’m just not sure where I should drive to.”

“Don’t you have people?” she says, eyes wide and bright. “Didn’t you say you were from Clearwater? Why aren’t you going there?”

“No place to go. Well, that’s not totally true. There are a couple of options. But listen, five bucks isn’t going to get us very far. So what do you say we blow the rest on drinks and then hit the road and see what happens?”

“It’s your party, cowboy. I’m only going a little farther down.”

“Then where? You don’t know either, do you? You’re broke, just like me. You and I were thrown together by the hands of fate. Can’t you see it? There’s meaning in that. You know, what are the odds? Two people find each other in the middle of Nowhere, Florida, and get along famously like you and I do. What are the odds?”

“You are a dreamer, Keith Elton.”

“But I’m not the only one.”

She gives me an appropriate smirk as I order us up two gin and tonics. Now at least we can enjoy our last few moments together. My five bucks turns to one and I leave it for the bartender, who’s done a great job of pretending he wasn’t listening to us. We finish the drinks in a hurry and walk outside into the bright sun and it’s the best I’ve felt for days. I take a deep breath and a premonition that doom is waiting around the corner smacks me and I don’t even care. I have some food in the van and a million dollars’ worth of dope, why should I care?

Then I think, What the hell, why not have a snort? Why not enjoy a little of the bounty that’s been dropped into my lap by the gods? I can sneak back there and grab a little without Dory even knowing what I’m doing. And she seems to be the type of girl that might enjoy a little toot herself, like a lot of people these days.

I wrestle with the idea as we get back onto the highway. I’ve got a craving for the drug and the girl or some twisted combination of the two. After a few long minutes with knots in my stomach and bees in my head, I pull off the road, unable to fight the urges any longer.

“What’s the matter?” Dory asks nervously.

“I’ve got a little something in the back that you might enjoy. At least I will. It’ll only take me a minute. Nothing to worry about, I have to get something out of the back.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she says, “just afraid I was getting dumped.”

“I wouldn’t do something like that. I just wanted a little toot, that’s all. Thought maybe you might want to join me, take the fuzz out of the booze high.”

“Are you shitting me? There’s blow in this van? Jesus, I don’t know.”

“You ever tried it before?”

She looks around nervously, fidgeting in the sheepskin-covered seat. “Oh yeah, I’ve tried it before. That stuff got my boyfriend killed. This is just too unreal. I run into a dreamboat and he’s into coke, too. I mean, that’s heavy—scares me a little.”

“Yeah, I suppose. It is scary, I guess. But coke is all over the place these days, especially in this state. It’s hardly rare. I’ve got a little bit in the back and I just thought a toot would be a good idea. Help to bring out the sunshine and ah—well—make it easier to drive. I’m kinda loaded.”

“Well, honey, so am I. Just high enough to say yes, against my better judgment.”

I smile and feel the adrenaline crawling up my spine.

I shut off the engine, get out and walk around to the other side of the van, slide open the side door and get in. Dory is craning her neck around, looking at me and I smile up at her. Then she turns back around, pushes her hair back behind her ear with a snap of her wrist, lights up a Chesterfield and watches the smoke disappear out the window.

“Could you hand me that mirror from the visor above your head, please, Dory? And there’s a pocketknife in the glove compartment. I need that too.”

She slides the mirror off the visor and hands it to me. There’s a twinkle in her eye. “You better watch out,” she says. “When I do coke, I get kind of crazy.” Then she reaches in the glove box and brings out the knife.

“I think I can handle it,” I say, as I crawl on my knees to where the duffel is lying. I loosen the drawstring, reach down until I feel the plastic wrap, pull a brick to the surface and squeeze the contents between my sweating fingers. There’s a catch in my throat. I swallow hard and glance at Dory, who’s staring out the window and twirling her hair with her middle finger. I turn my back to her and make a small incision in the wrapping. My fingers tremble; my mouth is dry and my heart pounds. Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice is screaming, but I don’t want to listen. All I crave is that feeling, that buzz. Now I have enough dope to make it last. This girl and me, together. Life is a party, my wife and son a fading memory. I scoop a small pile of powder onto the mirror and pulsate at the sight. Shining, glittering rocks fall apart and sparkle in the sunlight. I carefully shove the brick back in the duffel and stuff some clothes over it. I crawl up and set the mirror down on the countertop behind Dory’s seat.

(To be continued)