The Reason (Chapter 33 From A Hook)

Reads: 25  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Winds gusted through the open porch doors as Hinn meditated in the parlor of his executive suite.  Void of thought he kept his mind clear during his reverie.  Several hours before his servant was given leave to excise things that Hinn cared not for nor did he wish to address with him.  Recognizing that that they were there, he let Ishmael leave.  During his time alone he knew that his visit to France would be brief, but he finally felt a semblance of relief.  He focused, trying to picture the night in El Qui Valley with Michelle Moonshine.  A sharp pain struck him in the abdomen, it took a measure of tolerance of pain and steely focus of thought to remain still.  Feeling the pain that he had inflicted upon the owner of Moonshine Plantation he knew that it was part of the bonding from that night.  She was pregnant with his seed, sweat protruded profusely from his pores.  There was not a doubt that she was still alive because he could feel her pulse.  Lost in meditation he was taken out of it when his servant opened the door.  Hinn opened his eyes he remained seated, he did not want to address what may have occurred. “Wash” Ishmael kept his gaze downward, he nodded affirming the command.  Showering and changing he stored the vial in his pocket preparing to follow through with what had to be done.  A normal man might not have held their composure possibly being full of rage, hate, spite, some kind of uncontrollable feeling, but Ishmael was not normal.  The enduring reality that he had been living brought continual stress.  Soldiers facing conditions of continual stress meet those stresses becoming hardened veterans Hinn was one of that type, Ishmael however; reacted much differently because he was dominated without room to breath, so he took the underhanded approach.  He understood Hinn, much like a wife knows a husband.  In knowing the weaknesses in the hardened armor of a hardened well refined and skilled soldier of a businessman the administering of the vial of poison was easy.  The typical consumption after a period of meditation was a cup of black tea with lemon.  Emptying the contents of the vial into the cup of tea, Ishmael stirred the cup hoping that there was no flavor to the liquid.  As Ishmael handed the tea to Hinn, he noticed chafing marks around the wrists of his servant.  Hinn made serious eye contact with Ishmael, he looked to his wrists laughing slightly follow by a smile.  Hinn shook his head the thoughts that entered into his consciousness disgusted him.  Taking the first sip of the tea he did not take notice of the poison that he had ingested.  

 

****

 

One floor below the executive suites Arthur Wall had arrived in France waiting in the hotel room with Phillip Paille and three of his trusted men waiting for the phone call from Hinn’s assistant Ishmael.  Arthur adjusted his glasses he paced the hotel room anxiously awaiting.  Resembling a leprechaun that had drunken a bottle of vinegar he smoked a Marlboro red cigarette.  “My sister told me that you went sweet on the slave” Arthur flicked his cigarette he held out a middle finger as he held the cigarette lit facing down.  Phillip had a differing opinion as often he and Arthur could not agree when it came to a matter of judgment.  Phillip walked slowly to the a window inside of the hotel room, he pried the shades with a finger, “You lack perspective” Phillip turned around, “You are aware that his ‘master’ killed most of his family” Arthur took a drag from his cigarette, he clicked his lips together dryly, “Argh” Arthur roughly barked, “In his homeland he was a tailor and his family was renown within the fabric industry, did you know?”  Pulled out a small bottle of whiskey he put it down on the kitchen counter, “And in Herefordshire my family turned corn and wheat into whiskey and we made a fortune.  Let me ask you this Mr. Paille when you lay your head to sleep in your comfortable French cottage, who’s by your side?”  Phillip came close to Arthur almost too close nearly pressing his lips against Arthur’s cheeks he gripped the front of Arthurs overcoat, “Who’s suit do you wear?”  Arthur showed his teeth he spit on the floor, "How do you sleep at night?" Phillip Paille’s cell phone rang Arthur extinguished his cigarette.

 

****

 

It began to rain.  Laying his head to rest was easy it was the nightmares that followed that were hard.  Tossing and turning it was as if his thoughts were not his own.  Tangled up in his blankets his feet were bound.  Craig was a prisoner of sleep while his mind ran rapidly.  Jennifer appeared riding a horse that he could not recognize, he was walking aimlessly swinging at thin air stumbling as he walked. Riding the pure white Arabian horse they trotted by him several times without stopping.  He breathed in as they passed the distinct smell of freshly oiled leather filled his senses.  Finally she stopped, “Aren’t you going to say hi?”  Her hair flowed with a short gust of wind.  He kept walking unable to speak or stop she reached down touching his shoulder.  A connection was made his body began to shake he stopped.  Though he was sleeping a medical diagnosis was that Craig was in shock.  Jennifer let go of his shoulder finally Craig’s seizure ended he looked up, “I miss you!”  He began to cry in his sleep, “I’m a failure, both in marriage and with protecting my friends.”  Jennifer prodded her horse into a gallop, she passed by him several more times.  Then she disappeared.  Craig walked while weeping.  The ground under his feet changed into piles of sand.  The sun glared down, there was no wind, the lack of it was stifling.  As he walked he felt constriction in his chest his tears dried, he slowed down his breathing and took off the shirt that he was wearing covering his face and head as he walked aimlessly.  An Oasis was not far off, though he was dreaming he prayed that it was not a mirage.  A man sat in a lawn chair surrounded by camels.  As he approached the man with a pack of camels sitting in a lawn chair he walked past him dousing himself in the water.  When he stood up from his emersion into water there was none and the man that stood before him was none other than Djinn Halim.  Craig felt his injured arm he noticing that it was no longer injured, his reflexes were fluid, he swung as hard and fast as he could.  Djinn disappeared then reappeared a few feet away.  “You do not understand the laws of division” His words did not make sense and though Djinn spoke in Arabic he could decipher the words.  “Sif killed you and I would have as well” Djinn waved a finger, “As I recall I held the upper hand”  What was Craig facing?  He was speaking to a deadman as if he were still living.  “Your brother needs to be stopped” Djinn looked down to his feet, he wore Khussa’s with the tip of the shoe being made of gold, “We are one” after his words Djinn disappeared and the sand turned to water.  Craig stood knee deep in the low tide ocean on a beach of the island of Oahu, Hawaii.  None of what was happening made sense but it didn’t need to he kept moving almost as if he were on a conveyer belt.  He felt a tap on his shoulder from behind, he turned around it was Faith.  He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, she was the woman that he loved and he wanted to stay married to her.  “I don’t want a divorce” he whispered to her as he leaned in to give her a kiss she placed a finger in front of him.  To the side of her was Boney Hoggins digging for clams.  Craig began to cry again saddened with Boney’s recent death.  Boney stopped digging he turned around taking a moment to relieve himself in the water then he walked over to Craig, Faith swam a good distance away from the two men.  Boney addressed Craig, “Don’t be sad” How could he not be sad? “Everything in my life is changing” Boney nodded, “That’s when you got to be a man.  Just because you lose some good people and bad does what it can don’t mean that the lord don’t have use for you” Craig looked to Faith she smiled then she turned into a dolphin and swam away.  When he looked back to Boney he shook Craig’s hand then he turned into a crab and scuttled back and forth.  “Why!” Craig yelled again and again waking himself yelling the question.  He was full of sweat and he feet were tangled in his blankets, when he looked to the clock it was nearly two in the afternoon.

 

****

 

With knowing someone’s routine regardless of the resting place Ishmael knew the regularities of the mechanics concerning Hinn.  What he had expected was for Hinn to consume the laced tea and then loose consciousness.  It seemed inhuman, after consumption Hinn carried on with his normal routine showing no sign of fatigue or reaction to what he had consumed.  Working out nearly two hours Hinn showered and then he went to his quarters for the night.  Ishmael did not sleep he waited for nearly 1/2 hour then he crept into his masters quarters, he slowly crept up to him.  A measure of courage was needed for what he was about to attempt for he knew that he would be severely beaten.  “Psst… Psst”  Ishmael began.  Hinn did not wake.  As a trained soldier Hinn was a notoriously light sleeper.  “Psst… Psst” There was still no reaction.  Trembling Ishmael’s hands were shaking violently as he reached forward he nudged Hinn’s chin.  Holding his breath he quaked with edgy nerves.  There was no reaction.  He then took both hands and shook Hinn.  There was no reaction.  Ishmael was forbid to own a computer or cell phone, his options were limited.  He used the hotel room phone and called up Phillip Paille.  A few minutes passed Ishmael was in a state of panic pacing the hotel fearing that Hinn would wake and then the ramifications for his actions.  Thinking about his family did not cause a brave bout of anger or vengeance it made him fear all the more should Hinn wake.  Phillip Paille entered the hotel room followed by 4 British men.  The man that went by the name Arthur instructed the men to confine Hinn they brought in a carpet like they did with him.  Handcuffs were placed around Hinn’s hands and feet and duct tape was wrapped around his mouth.  During this process he woke from his slumber his eyes bulged but he could not scream nor get out as he was rolled up into the carpet and carried out of the hotel room.  Salvatore Moonshine had arranged for a private flight.  Ishmael was left in the hotel room, Phillip Paille stayed behind.  

 

Knowing people along with himself he knew that Ishmael would need several moments to gather his wits.  “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” Ishmael covered his head he was full of fret.  Phillip placed a hand on Ishmael’s shoulder, “You are no longer a slave” Ishmael nodded no, “You do no know Hinn.  I will not believe it until he is dead and still my family is dead, the resources that I have I do not know if I will be able to retrieve them.”  Phillip was confident that Hinn Halim would not escape the confines nor survive what Salvatore Moonshine had made preparations for.  Words would not work, that much Phillip Paille knew.  Anticipation of what needed to be confirmed was a waiting game.  Phillip thought of something, “How about I put you to work?”  Ishmael nodded he was ready, “Do you need your house cleaned and dinners prepared?”  Phillip nodded no, “I want you to construct me suits.  There is an order that I have been pushing off due to sudden obligations, you could be of assistance, besides I would like to judge the skill of your craft.”  Ishmael nodded without smiling, he was a shell of himself acting and talking out of instinct and repetition, “I used to have many contacts in the Persian fabric industry, Hinn trusts no other to make his clothing for him.”  Phillip made eye contact with Ishmael, “Hinn is no more.  You can stay with my wife and I until his termination has been confirmed.  There is real suit craft to be made and you will be paid for your work.”  Ishmael gathered his belongings he placed them near the entrance to the hotel suite, “I am not concerned about payment, it is my safety and future that I am concerned about.”  Phillip Paille understood his concerns.

 

****

 

Several men from the Wall Network dwelled in the slaughter house of Salvatore Moonshine’s youth.  As he entered the slaughterhouse memories of his youth filled his mind.  The building had been empty for more than twenty five years, dilapidation was the most prominent thing to notice.  Parts of the brick outer exterior had caved in along a window along with a tressel that lead to a storehouse that was once used for dry goods.  A generator was brought in, as it ran lights were lit giving a dim light to the damp slaughterhouse.  For Salvatore it felt like home.  He had been informed when the capture of the heathen that had done the deadly thing to his daughter had taken place.  Satisfied that he had not to wait long before his arrival he motioned to his nurse standing on the side of him she held his apron and butcher knives.  As the men carried out a rolled up carpet unrolling it revealing the cuffed and gagged Hinn Halim they over muscled his fight hanging him upside down  from a hook.  He dangled by chained cuffs that dug into his skin.  

 

****

 

Jim Buck couldn’t understand it he spent long hours at Le Persil plowing burned piles of trash remnants.  Why would Percival all of a sudden move to Florida?  He was at a loss for words and so was his son Dick Cauldron.  Then there was Patty Medallion!  She was being a bitch again.  Since his argument with Boney Hoggins they hadn’t been getting along.  Nope no matter how hard he tried she just wouldn’t be nice.  Like a dog that didn’t like people.  Friday night he was done for the day at the limit of his ability to be a believable leader in the garbage industry during a fire.  He felt the toll and his spirits were dampened by the missing link, it was Percival.  He showered and shaved then he showed up at Patricia’s house holding a dozen roses.  She answered the door, she was wearing a flowered dress with dress shoes and hair dolled up.  Jim Buck was not dressed for the type of occasion but he did have flowers.  “She was a beautiful sin, but I had to find another way” Jim Buck quoted a song that he wrote.  Patricia recognized the song she walked passed him out of the door closing it in front of him.  He was haggard he turned around, “I’m holding flowers” Patricia stopped she turned around, “I’m leaving, what do you want?” Jim Buck was quiet for a moment,  “It’s been months, are you ever going to talk to me?”  She put her hands on her hips, “What do you want?” She puckered her lips and twinkle from the outdoor lights sparkled off of the clip in her hair.  “Percival’s in Pinella’s Park Florida he’s not coming back.”  Patricia nodded, “Everything has an end” Jim Buck didn’t like her attitude he took out a cigarette and lit it, “So is this our end?”  Patricia looked to the flowers in his hands, “You know Jim Buck you have some goddamned nerve being a prick to me giving me orders when you want something and then out of the blue you show up holding flowers when I’m ready for a night out with the girls.”  Patty Medallion began to do her impersonation of Jim Buck being an oaf, “Now Patty be nice to me because I want something until after I’m done doing it” Jim Buck flicked his cigarette, “That’s not it Patricia!”  Patricia turned her head to the side quickly, “Numb! Jim that’s how I feel. Numb!” She yelled.  “That’s not true Patricia” Patty Medallion reached forward she tore the flowers from Jim Bucks hands she threw them on the ground and stepped on them, “Boney Hoggins will never come back from the dead and when I see you all I can think about is how you bullied him and now he’s dead. And then you bully me and I’m up to here with your bull shit”  Patty Medallion held an invisible line above her head.  Jim Buck dropped his cigarette then he stepped on it, “Patricia, I’m a dedicated man, I’m loyal, and when I have a cause I’m like a dog of war.  I’ve been dedicated to you and I ain’t got loyalty in return.”  Patricia turned she began walking to her car Jim Buck ran up to her she shook him free.  He slowed down like he was ashamed, “I comprehend pass!” She turned to face him before she entered her car, “Or manure leaving a horses ass” Patricia started up her car then she drove away. It didn’t take much thought beyond everything that surrounded him.  He loaded up his truck, he made a decision he would go to Pinella’s Park to keep his boss company.  

 

****

 

Percival sulked in Pinella’s Park Florida moping feeling bad for himself while not reaching out to those that cared about him except for Jim Buck, but Jim Buck was more of an extension of himself than not.  After he talked on the phone with Rebecca he picked up a coin that was at his feet.  It rested on top of kitchen table in his hotel room.  Many years ago he lived in Largo where he smuggled guns to Cuba for several years.  Eventually he got caught with a small amount of firearms and spent two years in prison but all of the feelings that he had about the place that he was in was still the same.  In the night time Percival had a vast assortment of liquor on the table.  Earlier in the day he went to an asian owned liquor store, the clerk was a woman that seemed rather attractive for an asian woman.  His grievances from war were resolved but the politics remained.  The woman clerk turned back and front and her husband coughed several times while he was being rung out.  “Cough my asshole?” Percival asked the husband, the store went silent the seriousness of his leaving was met with silence.  If he were younger he might have gone back and broken the man’s legs or knocked out his teeth, just out of principle.  The funny thing that Percival found humorous was what could be found with an 83 year old man, why disrespect him with a cough?  If he were at home that would not have happened.  Come night time Percival sat at his kitchen table mixing drinks twiddling the patriot coin between his fingers.  There was a knock on his door.  Old men have a different kind of motivation then they would in their youth so he figured to not answer the door.  Since he didn’t expect company nor did he have a need and he had paid his bill in advance he didn’t answer.  The door unlocked and then it opened, now Percival might be old but he was not without reaction.  By his side was his pearl handled gun, he picked it up pointing it to the door.  Jim Buck opened up the door he walked through holding a bottle of bourbon dragging a suitcase behind him.  Jim held up his hands, “Percy it’s me” Percival put his gun on the table, “I expected you tomorrow” Jim Buck rolled in his suit case, “Patty’s been a bitch so I took a flight as soon as I could.”  Percival began to shuffle a deck of cards that were on the table, “Take a seat” Jim Buck brought in his belongings he took a seat at the table and they began to place a game.  The plan for the two old men the following day was to go to Showtime Speedway in Clearwater.  Though they had no skin in the game they were sure that they could get into the pits.

 

****

 

Following his own rules on how to handle stress, Craig knew that he needed achievement.  He drove to Lowes and bought a chainsaw milling guide.  Sure as shit his arm was throbbing but there were several maple trees that Faith had cut down during the summer and he had an idea.  When he got back to the apartment Debbie-Sue was outside with the kids.  One thing that Craig was good at was shielding his children from the ugliness that he either did or experiences.  Deciding that it was best if he didn't explain himself or tell her what had happened he had his kids help him gather the 2x4 boards that he would use to make rails that would guide the chainsaw mill for the first cut.  In the past he had seen video's on people cutting their own boards to make furniture or lumber with.  It seemed simple, the sun was fairly bright with temperatures hovering around 80 degrees.  At the store he bought a new chain for the chainsaw, ripping chains are best used for milling, mainly because the teeth of the chain are angled at 10 degrees instead of 45 degrees that is used for general tree cutting.  Looking through the fiberglass cover that was framed with stainless steel a handle was on the far end.  Craig's injured arm luckily was the side that was used to rev the chainsaw and his uninjured side he held the handle using force to help the chainsaw cut through the wood.  After fastening the wooden rail guide he set the depth of the mill guide fastened it and began to cut.  Sawdust flew out of the sides of the downed tree Elvis, Marilyn, and Loretta stood behind him watching Craig work.  As he made progress he placed wedges into the sides of the tree that he was slicing to prevent pinching.  Debbie-Sue yelled Craig stopped leaving the chainsaw dangling idling as he kissed his children goodbye, he continued to work, he looked back in time to see Debbie-Sue driving away.  Working alone there was a sense of relief.  After he finished the first cut was completed he slid off the slab of wood to the side and unfastened the rail guide, then readjusted the depth of the chainsaw milling guide.  The idea was that he would make a table and while it took close to one half of an hour to cut two and a half inch boards the continual hum and pile of sawdust collecting made him feel somewhat better.

 


Submitted: December 24, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Wisdom Seeker. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Literary Fiction Short Stories

Other Content by Wisdom Seeker

Poem / Poetry

Short Story / Literary Fiction