Thursday September 24th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about: the deal maker.

Another 5:30 wake up courtesy of Max. Spent a good chunk of my morning trying to recover from that and as a result pretty much the only thing I managed to get done was to shave.

This afternoon I brought Max with me to get my haircut (so now I'm all shiny and new again). Hailey, our hairstylist, spent some time trying to convince Max to get his haircut as well. She pulled out some pretty impressive offers but I have to admit to being impressed that Max stuck to his guns in refusing to get his locks trimmed.

Not that he needs one particularly badly, but that last cut could still use some cleaning up. Oh well, I'll have to insist on one before his birthday. Or when it starts getting in his eyes again.


"Harvey? Harvey dear?" Rosetta frowned as her words echoed around the house without receiving a response. "Harvey!"

Leaving the kitchen with a quiet huff of frustration, she continued to call out for her husband as she went from room to room. It was apparent that he wasn't home long before she stopped looking for him.

"Where's that old fool gone off to now?" she muttered, pulling back the living room curtain to survey the unassuming street they called home. There was no vehicle in their driveway, but that was as expected - they'd had to sell their truck when Harvey was laid off the previous year.

Not having anywhere else to go, or even anyone to call to ask after his whereabouts (the phone company had cancelled their account two months prior), she remained where she was. There was no activity in the street lit scene outside for a long time. Not even so much as a neighbor taking their dog for an evening stroll. Rosetta's feet began to ache.

"What utter nonsense," she said. "He should know better than to lea-"

Her monologue was interrupted by the appearance of headlights approaching from the south. As the vehicle passed beneath a streetlight Rosetta saw that it was a red convertible being driven by someone who looked suspiciously like her husband.

When it pulled into their driveway and Harvey emerged with a wide grin on his lips, Rosetta's suspicions and fears were confirmed: her husband had obviously made a deal with the devil.


Greg said...

Max has clearly heard the story of Samson and Delilah and decided that he's Samson. Though this might mean that you're going to be Deliliah when you force him to get his haircut next – I'm sure you'll rise to the occasion admirably!
I love the descriptions in your work today; as the story moves on we gradually find out what state Rosetta is in and how she got there, but there's no rush, and it's all delivered at a steady pace. It works really well. The red car and the deal with the devil now... I think Rosetta might be working overtime to get things put to rights again here!

The deal maker
"You, ah, ladies?, do know how to play Bridge, don't you?" Harrison Chevrolet III, dressed in his best tuxedo and wearing the silver cufflinks, leaned down towards them, bending at the waist like some gigantic mechanical toy. "Only I did overhear you, while you were trying to drink the bar dry, referring to one of the suits as 'that pointy one'."
"Clubs," said Agnes promptly. Yes, yes, we know the rules. And the tricks. And Betty here can finesse like a ho."
"A what?"
"A pro."
Harrison sighed and unbent. He waved the two – was ladies really an appropriate word for two women who thought nothing of filling highball glasses with rum and then drinking it like it was Coke? – into the salon. "Go and talk to Deirdre," he said. "She's the deal maker."
"We play paired boards," said Deirdre smiling. Her dentures slipped forwards every time she did, and they wear starting to hang off her gums. "You'll play one board as North and South, and the other half of your team play as East and West on the opposite table. Your final score is the team score, so you want to try and win each deal both as N-S and E-W. I make up all the hands, and record them so we can study them and identify best play later on."
"Four hearts!" said Betty enthusiastically.
"I can see you're keen to get started," said Deirdre smiling again. Her dentures slipped and fell out of her mouth into her knitting bag. "Oosh! You'll phe on sheam C wish Missush Shanalsha an' 'er 'ush-an'."
"Why are we doing this again?" asked Betty quietly as they moved away. "You know we got debarred from Rouse's because we won the Bridge Trophy eight years running and wouldn't give it up to the second place couple."
"Because," said Agnes, "I've got a bit of an issue with Mrs. Canalba and her husband."

Marc said...

Greg - hah, we shall see.

Thanks for the kind words on mine, I was quite pleased with how it turned out.

Fascinating and fun scene you've crafted for us here. I'm not sure I'd want to do battle with Betty or Agnes at Bridge!