Sunday, July 1, 2018

the dead man


by fred flynn




jonathon had just gotten out the door on his way to the school bus when he saw the dead man lying on the sidewalk.

he went back inside and told mom.

did you look in his pockets?, was the first thing mom said.

no, jonathon said, i didn’t think -

well, go back out there and look in his pockets before anyone else does. there might be a lottery ticket in there. i will get derek and grandpa out there to help you bring him in.

all right, jonathion said. he went back outside and the dead man was still lying there. it did not look like anyone had come along and disturbed him.


jonathon looked in the dead man’s pockets, and sure enough, along with a comb and a subway pass and a few coins there was indeed a lottery ticket, for the big drawing that would be held in three days.

the prize for the big drawing promised to be a good one - all the money in the world.

the number on the dead man’s ticket was 92 - 78 - 56 - 876 - 320- 442 - 096.

jonathon was trying to memorize it and find some cosmic significance in it, when derek and grandpa came out and the three of them dragged the dead man inside.

mom took charge of the lottery ticket. the name on it was harold stevenson - a common enough name - and the dead man had no other i d on his person.


derek and grandpa and sissy took the dead man’s body down to the basement, where grandpa had his grinding machine.

they got the dead man's clothes off. sissy didn’t think they could get much for them, but they were better than nothing.

derek and grandpa began chopping the dead man up and feeding him into the grinder.

jonathon went back outside but he had missed the school bus and had to walk to school and was late.

he reported to ms walters, in the disciplinarian’s office.


what will be, jonathon? , ms walters asked, ten lashes, or two hours hanging in chains on the wall?

you know me, jonathon told her, i will take the lashes every time.

i know, but i have to ask.

when jonathon got home he found that derek and grandpa had got enough meat out of harold stevenson, who had weighed about 160 pounds, for three weeks worth of burgers.

but as it turned out the three weeks of burgers would not be needed.


92 - 78 - 56 - 876 - 320- 442 - 096 was the winning number. no other ticket with the number had been sold.

jonathon, mom, grandpa, derek, and sissy divided all the money in the world between them. jonathon made a feeble effort to argue that he should get half because he found harold stevenson in the street, but mom quickly countered that she had had to tell him to look for the ticket before anyone else came along. and grandpa and derek pointed out that they had done all the work grinding him up.

in the end they divided the money five ways equally. they each bought a castle on an island in the middle of an ocean and never saw each other again

*


one evening jonathon was sitting in the library of his castle, when soames, his butler, appeared.

a gentleman to see you, sir, soames announced.

to see me? how did he get on to the island?

i don’t know, sir, bit he seems very insistent. of course, if you don’t want to see him -

oh, show him in, show him in.

yes, sir.

jonathon put the book he had been reading aside, and looked around the library as he waited for his unexpected guest. the library was a large one, and the real estate agent had assured jonathon that it contained every book that had ever been written.


he had just finished the memoirs of cardinal mazarin, and was working his way through grote’s history of grrece, and was halfway through volume three.

soames returned with the guest, whom jonathon immediately recognized as harold stevenson.

jonathon dismissed soames, and harold stevenson took a seat and made himself comfortable.

well, sir, what can i do for you? jonathon asked harold stevenson.

i would think you could do quite a lot for me, considering that all this was almost mine - entirely mine, in fact. i just missed out.


but you did miss out, didn’t you? jonathon retorted. hard cheese, my brother, but the chips fell where they may, as they always do. by the way, how did you get here, and in one piece? the last i heard, you were all ground up into hamburger.

harold stevenson shrugged. what do you know about the space-time continuum?

not a whole lot, jonathon admitted. i might get around to reading about it someday.

there you have it, said harold stevenson. he looked around the library, at the blazing fire and the tall bookshelves. you don’t look like you are having much fun. do you ever bring any hot babes up here, with all your money?

that is no concern of yours, jonathon told him.

hey, i was just asking a question, you don’t have to get all snippy. say, do you think you could treat a guy to a square meal?


of course, so long as you don’t start feeling entitled. soames will bring you anything you like.

i would like a roast beef sandwich, some extra salty fries, and a fifth of good bourbon.

not a problem. tell me, do you play pinochle? i was reading something about it the other day, and thought it sounded a rather interesting game.

harold stevenson shrugged. i’ll play pinochle with you.

good, jonathon replied. he rang for soames and ordered a roast beef sandwich , extra salty fries, a fifth of “the best bourbon we have” and a pinochle deck. harold stevenson asked soames to also bring a bottle of worcestershire sauce.

they passed a pleasant evening.



No comments:

Post a Comment