Coltrane Blues

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another adventure of Charlie and Roman...

Submitted: October 17, 2011

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Submitted: October 17, 2011



My friend Charlie stopped by my apartment the other day.  I was in the middle of cooking dinner when I heard his obnoxious knock upon my door.  I put down my knife and answered the door.  "Hey Charlie.  What's up?" I asked.  Charlie replied, "Not much chief.  You want to go out tonight?"  I told him I was in the middle of cooking dinner, but would go out for a drink afterwards.  Charlie asked, "Mind if I eat with you?  I am starving."  I reluctantly nodded yes.  Charlie is always inviting himself to dinner.

I resumed my kitchen duties while Charlie plopped down on the couch.  I had Coltrane playing in the background while I was cooking.  Charlie shouted, "Mind if I turn this noise off and put on some TV?"  Before I could even answer, Coltrane was off and the inane blast of some laugh-track laced network programming filled my small apartment.  "Lovely", I thought to myself.

I finished cooking dinner and Charlie and I ate with little conversation.  After cleaning up the dishes, I threw on a jacket and we journeyed out into the crisp fall evening.  We walked down 42nd Street to McFadden's and wondered in.  We each ordered a beer and scouted the crowded bar for familiar faces.  The regular crowd seemed to be absent tonight.  Charlie and I drank our beers and talked about our day.

Charlie and I had been friends for quite awhile. We had met in college our freshman year and became fast friends.  He was a boisterous chap with a knack for saying the wrong things at the right time; especially with the opposite sex.  We eventually became roommates in our sophomore year at Bards.  Charlie's "no fear" social attitude complimented my low key, restrained demeanor.  We had a lot of fun in college and remained friends after graduation.  Charlie had several jobs over the years and usually climbed the corporate ladder quickly, but he never managed the ability to hold his tongue when talking to his supervisors.  Not that his ideas were always bad, but he never was able to deliver them in a non-abrasive manner.  I was more the calm type and held down the first job I landed after college.  I took a slow and steady approach to moving up in my company.  There were many times when Charlie was between jobs and had to crash on my couch.  I never minded.  After all, Charlie had been good to me and we had a lot of good times over the years.

The night lingered on and Charlie and I had polished off many beers.  It had turned out to be a good evening and I was glad I came out with Charlie.  We stuck around for last call and staggered out of the bar into the chilly night.  We walked several blocks before realizing the beer we had rented was ready to move out.  We ducked into an alley to relieve ourselves.  When we finished, Charlie looked at me and said, "You know, I don't know if I have ever thanked you for being such a good friend".  I patted him on the back and said, "You too Charlie".  In that same moment, I pulled the garrote out of my jacket pocket and swung it round Charlie's neck.  I tightened it with all my strength for about 20 seconds.  Charlie's eyes bulged and spit flew from his mouth as he struggled to comprehend the situation.  I briefly loosened my grip and Charlie whispered, "Why?".  With a devilish look I smirked, "Don't ever come to my apartment and turn off Coltrane you bastard".  I re-tightened my grip until Charlie's wind pipe was broken.

I exited the alley and sauntered off into the night.  I thought to myself, "I think I'll heat up the left overs when I get home". 

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