THE SAVAGE AT
THE CHARTER HOUSE
'And now, you're going to lend me the money
with which I will kill you.' Straightforward
design, yesiree that. I could hardly believe
my ears. I've always had a tendency to play
things over what they really were, the opposite
of under-stating, you see. This spot gave me
no choice. But I knew I was clear.
-
'Listen to this,' I said. I knew I'd be safe if I
just kept on talking. 'One time when I was
in Flemington, it was ShadFest, some weekend
festival they hold in the Spring when the shad
are running; these fish come up the Delaware,
from the ocean or someplace, to mate, spawn
whatever fish do on the run (how boring that
must become), but I think they only do it once
and then they die, or fishermen get them anyway,
same thing. The whole small town runs crazy.
-
People sit around drinking, walking along, There's
music and song - all those volunteer types, their
antiques and plants and flowers and animals. The
drunk guys, pissing in the weeds and woods along
the river. Kids sloshing, tubes and small boats. A
blind man comes along the sidewalk with his dog;
he's hawking some sort of local newspaper for a
dollar - fish-fest schedules, and bands and events.
No one really cares, but some give him a dollar
anyway, just for being blind. Restaurant and
cafe girls, in their little dresses, swaying with
trays and flipping their tresses. Too bad the
blind can't see, I guess, unless he imagines
by sound what's around.
-
The whole entire town is one fussy small shop
after the other; all mostly dying, or pleading for
your help. The rich people say, 'There's nothing
to buy, I've got one of everything already.' And
the others say, 'I've really not got the money, but
I want one of each thing I see.' Funny when the
world's like that.' He grabs my arm and pushes.
-
'Where's my money, I said I want your money.' In
that instant I have to decide - do I want to challenge
him over his stupid grammar, unclear at best? He's
claiming it's his money, but then demanding it as
mine. I mean, c'mon, where do I even begin. So,
to steal more time, I have a go. 'You know I'm not
really sure what you're asking. Is it already yours,
and you want it from me? Or is it mine you seek,
and only claim it as yours, ahead of time? If I
knew what you were saying, maybe then I could
act.' As I'd hoped, the girl across the way had
been watching this and saw what went on. I
guess. She'd told her boss, who owned 'The
Fanciful Second Helping,' that little cafe over
there, and he'd watched and then called the cops.
Who'd just now arrived behind us. Boy, that
was a really close call.'
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