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The Dentures

John Ragusa

    Peyton Bruemore was sick of living with his uncle Nash. He only stayed with him because he was unemployed and had no other place to reside.
    He was tired of seeing to his needs, like feeding, clothing, and grooming him. Peyton wanted to be free from doing those things.
    His bed-ridden uncle needed the utmost care. That was why Peyton was assigned to the task. Being Nash’s only living relative, he was the ideal choice to look after him.
    Peyton would have rather dug ditches than care for his uncle. It was a big pain in the neck, and it was boring, too. He had to attend to Nash morning, afternoon, and evening. It had grown unbearably tiresome after a while. It was time for a change, and a very speedy one, also.
    Nash became more demanding than ever as time went on. He needed Peyton’s assistance for the smallest kind of deeds. Peyton had to be at his beck and call at all times. This got to be an unending, monotonous routine.
    Peyton began to plot his uncle’s murder. With him dead, he would no longer have to live with him and provide his needs. He’d be as free as a bird. He couldn’t wait for his role of caregiver to be over.
    Nash knew that Peyton wanted him to die. He could sense it every time he served him his dinner with a scowl. It was as plain as day to Nash.
    Nash was rumored to practice black magic. He could cast spells, hexes, and curses on people, according to some folks who knew him. Peyton never believed this; he just thought old, superstitious women were engaging in malicious gossip. What else did those crones have to do?
    One day, Nash chose to make his will. In it, he left his fortune to Peyton, under one condition: that he would keep the old man’s dentures in his room after his death. It was a bizarre stipulation, but it was made legal.
    Soon Peyton made up his mind that the time to dispatch his uncle had arrived. He put cyanide in his tea. Nash drank it and died. His death was thought to be caused by a heart attack, since he’d had trouble with his ticker for a long time. Foul play was never suspected.
    Nash was buried in the family cemetery without fuss or bother. Peyton received his inheritance very quickly. He instantly moved out of the hoary, gloomy mansion and into a hip, new deluxe apartment.
    As the will had demanded, Peyton put Nash’s dentures on a desk in his bedroom. He had no choice but to do this, or he wouldn’t inherit Nash’s fortune.
    Late one night a week later, after Peyton had retired for the evening, a servant named Alonzo heard a loud scream coming from his master’s room. He ran in there at once and saw Peyton dead, with the dentures embedded in his bleeding throat.
    Had Nash gotten revenge from beyond the grave?
    Wouldn’t you love to know?

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