May the Best Man win
May the Best Man win
Monday, September 2nd. 7:10pm
Spankey’s Bar, 1039 Malouth Place, North Minneapolis
A frigid breeze stirs heaps of trash discarded in the small disheveled parking lot. Will carelessly empties rubbish scraps from his bartending bag into the unsightly mounds.
Frustrated, he scrapes some cheap pizza cheese from his dark purple bar jersey. He lightly kicks some of the garbage when a familiar jingle surfaces from his pocket.
Will retrieves his phone from his pocket and groans annoyed as soon as he recognizes the number. He lets the call roll over to voicemail as he studies a new cut across his forearm tattoo. His unfinished tattoo sleeve appears to generate negative emotions.
He studies it for another second before the phone chimes again.
This job might be the best I’ve ever gotten. Call me! A text pops up.
Will sighs and calls the number. An effeminate male voice answers immediately.
“Dude!” he belts out excitedly.
“Don’t call me dude,” Will sharply interrupts as he starts to walk towards cement stands that used to house a bus stop bench.
“Seriously Eddie,” Will moans as he paces around the broken bus stop. “This’ll be the 7th one, but they all pull out. I’m starting to believe what everyone says.” Will deepens his voice mockingly. ”You’re only good at being a cop but you’re a bad cop.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie snaps
”Officer Amuundson, I’m a law abiding official,” Will smurks. “I’m just not sure this is really a thing. I need to work. I need money, but I’m not sure you’re the guy who can get that for me.”
“Listen;” Eddy says more aggressively. “We already got the cash; upfront. This will be a real piece of cake. It’ll be the perfect first job for you.”
“Kay,” Will reacts cautiously. “I’m listening.”
“There are some requests..”
“Aww, I knew it,” Will groans. “What this time? Clean up? Elaborate accident?”
“No; weirder.” Eddie says with a light chuckle. “You just gotta mind your P’s and Q’s and treat her with respect.”
“What?” Will retorts, “I gotta get in good with the mark before killing her?”
“Uh, yeah; looks that way.” Eddie murmers as his shuffling is heard through the phone.
“Seriously? What’s the deal with this one? Crazy?”
”Yeah; I’m sure she’s crazy, but she pays good. That’s all that matters; right?” Eddie pauses and another voice surfaces through the phone. Weird static noices emit as Eddie mumbles something Will can’t hear.
“Look; do you want the job or not?” Eddie says hastily. “I know her money’s good. You get fifty big ones; I’ve got it in hand already. She also gave you free reighn on whatever you find of value in her house. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I need to know now. You in; or not?”
“In,” Will replies beaming.
“Alright, so we agree.” Static returns as Eddie shuffles. “I’ll text the information. Can you be there in an hour? She seems to be in a hurry.”
“Done,” Will gracefully hides his excitement.
He disconnects the call. The smallest part of him questions the morality of his job, but that part is pushed out by thoughts of how much better off he’ll be with the payout.
The text Eddie promised arrives a minute later and reality sets in. He must consider the most compassionate way to end someone’s life. Abruptly, doubts flood in, but he pushes them away as faint lights of a city bus appear in the distance.
He sheepishly shoves his phone in his pocket and digs for correct change to get on the bus. Everything appears more vivid and Will becomes distracted. Suddenly, the world looks more beautiful and Will doesn’t understand the weird shift in perception.
Will freezes as a deep indescribable feeling emerges. Neon spray paint coats the bus headlights which illuminates everything in an astonishing pink tint.
The usual beeping of a stopping bus emerges and pulls Will from his thoughts. Confused, he stumbles aboard. The bus driver looks disheveled and barely gives Will a glance before shutting the folding doors. He starts moving before Will has finished paying, which causes Will to drop some change.
“Whatever;” The driver slurs annoyed. “You need a transfer?”
“You okay?” Will responds uncharacteristically. Never would he consider asking a bus driver about their day as he just assumes they deal with shady characters all day.
“Probably better than you; drunkie.” The driver sharply interjects. “I just don’t have enough DUI’s to be needing my services. So, why don’t you do us both a service and get the fuck outta here.”
The drivers suffering is almost visible but Will ignores the feeling and clumsily navigates to the back of the moving bus.
After falling into the seat, he opens his phone again and begins to plan his route. He sighs as his brain floods with thoughts.
If I got this far, I can get through anything. Will softly mutters to himself.
