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Order this writing in the collection book Unlocking the Mysteries available for only $1795 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue of Down in the Dirt magazine.
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A Burger and a Beer
M. Brandon Robbins
Jerry walked through the door of Hamm’s and was greeted by a hostess; one of the town’s high school kids. “Good evening Mr. Felwall,” she said with just enough enthusiasm to keep her job.
It was nine o’ clock on a Friday night.
She didn’t want to be in this town, much less at work.
“Just you tonight?”
“No, Randall’s going to be joining me.”
“Oh, Mr. Truman’s leaving his house?
That’s news.
Would you like to go ahead and be seated?”
“Sure. Smoking please.”
“No problem.”
The hostess grabbed two menus and two sets of silverware wrapped in napkins and led Jerry to a booth near the back of the smoking section.
The crowd was thin but the smoke wasn’t, and the music was so loud that even the few groups of people congregated around tables and booths had to shout to be heard by each other.
Jerry had to admit though; Hamm’s Pub was one of the best places he had ever patronized.
Jerry settled into the seat and listened to the hostess rattle off tonight’s specials: fish and chips, beef pot pie, spaghetti and meatballs, and ribs.
And for desert was an apple crisp topped with vanilla ice cream and a Jim Beam caramel sauce.
“Can I go ahead and put in your drink order?”
“Sure, I’ll have a Miller Genuine Draft.
And go ahead and bring Randall’s Labatt’s Blue if you don’t mind.”
“No problem sir.
You enjoy yourself.”
The hostess walked away, stopping at the bar to put in the orders.
Jerry felt like every eye in the building was on him.
He could hear what they were thinking.
“People just don’t do that around here.”
“It’s just not right.”
“Running around on his wife is bad enough, but all that whips and chains stuff? It’s just not the way the Good Lord intended.”
The beer couldn’t come fast enough.
The waiter was a little older than the hostess, probably in college and glad to be here.
Working tonight meant he could drink tomorrow night.
“So can I put you in for an appetizer?” he asked after naming off the exact same list of specials that the hostess had spit out.
“No, but I know what my friend and I are having.
We’ll both take the double-stack burger with fries.”
“Sure thing,” the waiter said smiling.
He scribbled the order down and walked away.
Again, the gossip in Jerry’s head started.
“He’s the only one from around here that messes with that jezebel.
She was a nice little secret until he was seen walking out of her house.
I hear he’s over there all the time.”
“Why does she even stay here?
She knows everyone hates her.
I guess it’s so the guys that come from the city won’t get caught by their wives.”
“He’s over there all the time.”
He could hear the women saying “I’ve told his wife a hundred times but she just won’t do anything.”
He started drinking, hard and fast.
Half of Jerry’s third beer was gone by the time Randall arrived.
“So how are you?” the quieter man asked in an even and neutral voice.
“I’m good, real good” said Jerry as he reached forward to vigorously shake his friend’s hand.
“And you?”
Randall shrugged.
“I could complain, but I’m not going to.
I see you remember what I drink.”
“Oh yeah, Canada pride and all that.
Oh, and I went ahead and ordered our burgers.”
“I trust you made the right selection?”
“Yep. The double-stack with fries.”
“Excellent.”
Randall took his seat and helped himself to a sip of his beer.
“So how’ve you been doing my friend?” Jerry asked cordially in a slurred drawl.
“I’ve been doing very well, no major hindrances to my well-being.”
“And what occasion do we owe to you coming out your little hermit box?” Jerry asked, laughing.
Randall shrugged.
“Can I not ask one of my oldest friends to meet me for drinks and dinner?”
Jerry shrugged in response.
“Yeah, but usually it takes an act of God to get you out the house.”
Randall reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
He pulled one out and then produced a lighter from his pants pocket.
He lit his cigarette and took one long, slow draw from it, exhaling the smoke in a small cloud that formed a halo over his head before dissipating.
“Well, let’s just say He moves in mysterious ways.”
Their orders arrived and they began eating.
Randall tentatively picked at his fries and nibbled at his burger while Jerry ravenously polished off his meal in mere minutes; even downing his beer while he was at it and going half-way through another before finishing his fries.
After his final bite, Jerry sat back in his chair with his beer in hand, drinking a long swallow as he reclined.
“So how’s the family?”
“Not bad.
My mother’s expressed interest in moving back to the old homestead and my brother asked that great question to Natasha last month.”
“And since you bothered to mention it I guess its good news.”
“I’m going to be a brother-in-law as well as an uncle.”
“Congratulations. I’m not asking in which order.”
“Well, if their math is correct, the two events should coincide.”
“They picked one hell of a way to celebrate an engagement.
So, how about you? Any lady loves in your life?”
“No, I am devoid of romantic involvement.”
Jerry started laughing.
“You want mine?”
Randall raised his eyebrow.
“Is it that deplorable?”
Jerry finished off his beer and started talking again.
“Look, all my wife does is whine and moan and whine and moan about how I’ve lost interest in her, about how she doesn’t feel sexy or attractive anymore, about how she wants us rekindle the romance.”
“A relaxing romantic vacation seems in order.”
Jerry laughed.
“With a home owner’s loan to pay back?
And medical school bills to pay off?
And now she’s talking about going back to school?
And let’s not forget the kids.
Please. The only vacation we’re going to have for a long time is a picnic in the backyard, eating potted meat sandwiches and drinking convenience store wine.”
Randall took another sip of his drink and another draw from his cigarette, and then arched his eyebrow slightly.
“Maybe if you diverted some funds from your extracurricular pursuits those factors might not be an issue.”
Jerry lurched forward, slamming the palms of his hands on the tables and adapting a defensive tone to his voice, but not raising the volume of his speech. “Me and Bettie don’t do anything but play Randall, not a thing but play.
I ain’t never...” and with that he realized that he just admitted to what everyone had been whispering about.
At least it was to Randall.
He wouldn’t say anything to anybody. Randall was a good guy.
Randall raised his hands and tilted his head.
“I was merely making a harmless suggestion my friend.”
“I tell you Randy,” Jerry said, already having forgotten the fact that he had just admitted to doing what everyone was accusing him of, “you’re a smart man.
Stay single I tell you. Stay a lone wolf.
That way, you have your fun and nobody says a thing, because you’ve got not a single care or attachment in the world.”
“I’m not entirely certain that that is an attractive offer.
I find it appealing to have a home and family, a wife and children.
And I must admit; I fear that I will have no one to grieve for me when I die, and that is more than a little depressing.”
Jerry laughed.
“I’m never going to die.
I’m going to be around to put up with everybody’s crap forever.
That’s my punishment.”
Randall smiled ever so slightly as his voice dropped to a furtive tone.
“No; you are going to die.
You are going to die tonight, because I am going to kill you.”
Jerry laughed boisterously, and continued laughing for a long time, even drawing attention from the surrounding tables.
He laughed until he looked into the eyes of his friend and no longer saw a reason to laugh.
All of a sudden, the slightly drunken man was very nervous. “Randall?
What are you saying?”
As if he didn’t even hear him, Randall calmly continued.
“I am currently wearing a shoulder holster under my jacket and in that shoulder holster is a handgun.
If anybody saw this, they would think nothing of it because everyone in this town carries a gun; that’s just the kind of place it is.”
Jerry shook his head, wanting to believe that he was dreaming or that Randall was performing some sick practical joke.
But he knew, deep down inside, that this was for real.
“I’ll call the police,” he said quietly.
Randall laughed quietly.
“I wouldn’t bother.
They wouldn’t believe you.
I’m a good guy.”
Jerry’s hands were shaking now.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I would be concerned about whether or not I will be successful as opposed to my motive.
Now, I am going to finish my burger and beer.
I’ll even pay for your order.
While I’m finishing, I advise you to run.
Maybe you can find help or make your way out of town by the time I’m done.
Either way, once I’m finished your window of opportunity will be closed.
The next time I see you I will kill you.”
“I’ll stay here.
You can’t kill me in front of all of these people.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?
No, you’ve got to leave eventually.
Don’t you have an appointment with Bettie tomorrow?”
Jerry looked shocked.
“How did you-“
“Everyone knows everybody’s business in this town whether they talk about it or not.”
Jerry shook his head, getting up nervously.
“Randall, why?
We went to college together.
You introduced me to Aliana.
You were one of my groomsmen for Christ’s sake.”
Randall picked up his burger and took a small bite.
“I would suggest you run.”
Jerry got up as if in a daze slowly walked for the door on the side of the pub, trying to find his footing.
He opened it, still not sure what was going on.
He just knew that he had to find a way out of this town and fast.
He shot one last look at Randall who was calmly eating his dinner.
The door shut behind him and he stumbled onto the sidewalk.
He felt dizzy, flustered.
A million thoughts were running through his head and one idea pervaded through all of them: he was going to die tonight and Randall was going to kill him.
He did the first thing he could think of.
Jerry reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone.
He dialed his home number.
Aliana answered it.
“Felwall residence, this is Aliana speaking.”
“Ali, thank god you’re home.”
“Where else would I be?”
She recognized her husband’s voice. “Have you been drinking again?”
“Ali, Randall’s going to kill me.”
There was a pause before Aliana answered him.
“Oh yeah, you’ve been drinking.
I tell you what, call me when you need a ride home and don’t have money for a cab.”
“No, Ali, really, he just said it.
We were having a burger and he just said that he was going to kill me.”
Ali laughed humorlessly.
“If you expect me to believe for one instant that Randall Truman is going to do anything harmful to any other person you might as well ask me to believe once again that you are not having an affair.
Goodbye.”
A slamming sound pierced Jerry’s ear and the line went dead.
He immediately dialed the number again.
After two rings he heard his wife’s voice.
“Jerry, if that’s you again, give it up unless you’re asking for a cab.”
“Ali, listen to me.
It’s true.
I am having an affair okay? Well, not really an affair but we just play. It’s me and Bettie.
I even pay her Ali.
We don’t have sex and I pay her.
If you want to call that an affair then yeah; I’m having an affair.”
“Like I didn’t know that.”
Her voice was strong and confident, but wavered a little.
Jerry was admitting it; somehow, that made it that much more hurtful.
“So please, give me another chance.
Call Randall’s cell and talk to him.
Give me a chance to make it right.”
“Goodbye Jerry.”
She hung up the phone less forcefully this time.
Jerry spun around and looked back through the glass door.
He saw Randall, calmly eating his burger.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
Maybe Aliana was calling him to talk some sense into him.
But Jerry didn’t have time to wait and see.
Jerry turned around and started walking away from the pub, crossing the street and then turning right.
He knew that the bus station was in this direction, and intended to buy a ticket to the farthest place from here.
Once there, he would call his wife and see if Randall was still acting like a psychopath.
If so, then she could fend for herself.
If she’s not willing to go to her best friend and talk him out of killing her husband, fine.
The two of them could get married and then Randall could take over all of this that Jerry had and didn’t want but Randall seemed to yearn for.
He would quit his job; send in his resignation immediately. Close out his joint account with his wife and wire her half the money; that seemed far enough.
Then, he would get started on a new life.
Jerry even swore that if he got out of this alive he would even end things with Bettie.
Or even better, offer to relocate her.
Buy her a nice place, maybe even start his private practice and give her a job just to keep her close.
She might resist at first; she kept telling him things like she’s not a slave and she’s not property to be bought and sold.
She got really mad when he hit her the first time; that was his fantasy though, to rough a woman up a bit.
But as long as he kept paying she kept letting him come over, as long as he didn’t hit her and as long as he didn’t try to mix her business with his pleasure too much.
Of course all that would change when she never had to have a customer again, when he could keep her all to himself.
It sounded so perfect, so tempting, he was thinking of calling his wife and telling her that he was leaving just so that he could do it.
But he would play fair.
The bus station was well-lit as usual.
There were buses constantly coming through; this little town was positioned nicely between two metropolitan areas, making it an ideal location for mass transit.
It was the biggest boon to the town’s economy and the station itself was usually crowded until late at night.
He walked through the door and up to the front desk.
Before the clerk could even acknowledge him he said “I need a ticket to the farthest destination this place can reach.”
The clerk, more than a little confused, said “Okay sir.
What date are you planning on departing?”
“Tonight. Soon.”
“I’m sorry sir but we have no departures tonight.
There’s a bus coming through but it’s not leaving until tomorrow morning at nine.”
Jerry was a mixture of angry and desperate.
“I want a ticket out of town tonight!”
“I’m sorry sir, I can’t help you.”
“You don’t understand!
Someone is trying to kill me!”
The clerk was even more confused.
He could tell that Jerry was intoxicated, but wasn’t sure just how intoxicated to fabricate a story like this.
“Sir, do you need to contact the authorities?”
“They’ll never believe me!”
Jerry turned around and walked out of the bus station.
Back on the sidewalk, he felt bile rise in his throat and he bent over to vomit.
The combination of food, alcohol, nerves, and physical movement was getting to him.
While the adrenaline pumping in his veins was helping to sober him, it was doing nothing to calm him.
After his final retch, Jerry stood and propped against the outer wall of the bus station for the slightest of moments, just to make the world stop spinning.
He stumbled forward, hoping to make the city limits and maybe thumb a ride on the highway.
Or if he could just make it to the main street where all the traffic passed through, the families on vacation and the business people all en route to their destination and going through this sleepy little town.
Maybe one of them would have mercy on him.
“Right,” Jerry said aloud to himself.
“A drunk guy screaming that somebody’s going to kill him.
That would make someone pull over and say ‘hop in’ real quick.”
The town had no cab service that he could call.
His hope was faint and fading fast but Jerry wanted to live too badly to give up.
In fact, he would just find a new life anyway.
He would run away, divorce Aliana, and leave this little town behind him.
Everything was just fine back in the big city.
People didn’t talk, people didn’t gossip, and nobody asked questions.
Jerry could disappear in a larger city like he used to live in.
He had a good deal of fun in fact, being able to hide from his wife and kids.
Jerry realized all of a sudden that somehow, in his rambling in trying to formulate a plan, he had ended up right across the street from Hamm’s again.
He could see in the glass door, and Randall was walking through it.
His legs still felt a bit rubbery, but Jerry ran anyway.
He didn’t look behind him to see if Randall was giving chase; he just ran.
The streets were deserted; there was no traffic at this time of night. The few people out wouldn’t be going home until midnight or later.
Jerry didn’t drive because he intended fully on drinking, so he had no car.
There were no dark alleys to lose Randall in.
The only establishments nearby were businesses, and they were all closed.
Finally, realizing that his cause was indeed hopeless, Jerry just stopped and turned around.
Randall was just a short distance from him.
“I’m going to change!” Jerry shouted in a panic.
“I swear.
I’ll get out of this town and leave everyone alone if you want me to, just don’t kill me.”
“You’ve said that before,” Randall calmly shouted back.
“Isn’t that what bought you here?”
“I wanted to come here!
I wanted to start fresh.”
“But you knew you couldn’t leave without your wife.
You needed her to raise the kids so that you could live the American dream you had always desired.”
The two men were now close enough that they didn’t have to shout, just speak loudly.
“You just want her for yourself,” Jerry spat. “You just want my Aliana for yourself!”
Randall reached into his coat and produced the gun he had confessed to possessing earlier.
A loud click rang through the air as Randall disengaged the safety, then another as he slid back the slide to chamber the first round.
Jerry’s knees gave away and he sank to the ground, tears welling in his eyes. “You’ll never get away with this,” he shouted. “Someone will catch you and you’ll serve time.”
Randall slowly raised the gun to point directly at Jerry.
“My wife will never forgive you for this.
I am her husband after all.”
Randall sighed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling.
“I told my wife I would change!” Jerry screamed.
“I told her that I would change!”
“I’m sure you did, more than likely in hopes that I would change my mind.
But as you can see I haven’t changed my mind.
I still intend to carry through with my plans.”
Jerry started sobbing, and then his tears started flowing freely as he started crying in earnest. “Randall, why?
Please tell me why?
Why are you doing this?
Is somebody paying you?
Tell me, why?
Why?”
Randall pulled the trigger.
For a split second, the muzzle flash illuminated the darkness of the night.
A puff of smoke rose to the sky and a popping sound reverberated through the open night air.
A bullet cut through the air and slammed into Jerry’s skull, splattering a Rorschach blot of blood on the pavement behind him.
He fell backward, his body thudding like a dead fish.
Randall slid his gun back into his shoulder holster and turned away, walking back towards Hamm’s.
After the ringing in his ears had gone away, Randall reached into his coat and pulled out his cell phone.
He dialed a number.
When he heard the sound of a familiar voice saying hello he simply said “It’s done.”
The receiver on the other end was put down, a click preceding the silence.
