The Man From New Jersey!
This is based on "The Man From The South" from Roald Dahl. There are copies online, if you want to read the original.
This was done for a contest on dA, but I am putting it here too.
Hope readers enjoy it.
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I had taken a trip for myself. Being in and out of work for so long, I figured I'd earned it. I went to resort off the coast of Hawaii, and stayed in a rather nice hotel. I was sitting at the pool side, watching families at play and the girls sun bathing while a drank a beer.
That's when I met him. He came and stood in front of me, large sunglasses hiding his eyes while a rather large sun hat hid his dyed black hair from view. I shielded my eyes to look him over, smirking slightly at the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing.
"May I sit here," he asked, motioning to the seat next to me at the table, "this sun is killer."
"Sure," I said, making room for the chair under the umbrella at my table.
The man sat, looking around at the other people at the pool, seeming to be watching for something, perhaps someone.
"Why are all these people here," the man said in a tired drawl. His voice sounded weird, as if two accents were competing for dominance. One sounded like my own Jersey accent, but the other sounded odd…like maybe he had moved somewhere else…maybe California.
"It is summer," I said softly, not liking him, or the way I could see his eyes sizing up the people around us through his sunglasses' lenses.
"It's always summer here, always hot," he muttered as he took off his sunglasses. His mind seemed to be far away as his eyes followed a young boy in the pool with dark hair and a smattering of tattoos on his skin. I watched as he motioned for the young boy to come over. He grinned and swam over, water glistening on his tanned skin. He grabbed his hoodie from a nearby chair and walked over.
"Hey there," he said, grabbing a cigarette from his hoodie's pocket and a lighter. The man's eyes glittered as he saw the lighter. The young man opened the lighter and made to light it.
"It won't light in this wind," the man said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Mine will…has not failed me yet."
He then lit his cigarette and took a drag before offering the man and I one. I declined, while the man accepted, following the lighter with his eyes as he took a drag.
"See," the boy said with a look of glee on his face, "lights anywhere I want it to."
The man looked thoughtful, and I really wished that the boy had not opened his mouth.
"Willing to make a bet," the man said on a smoky breath.
The boy's eyes lit up, "what kind of bet?"
"A bet," said the man, leaning closer to the boy, "one over your lighter. I bet you couldn't make it light ten times in a row."
The boy laughed, "is this a joke? That's too easy! What's the wager?"
The man sat back, looking thoughtful and blowing out a plume of smoke.
"How's this, you win, and I will give you my Trans Am."
"What," the boy looked flabbergasted. "You've gotta be fuckin' me."
The man looked amused, but shook his head, "no, most certainly not. I have a great deal of cars, so I can spare one…but if I win…you will have to give up something too. Something big…"
The boy looked concerned, "what will I have to give up. I don't have much money…"
The man smirked, "what you will be giving up you have a lot of as well," he said, taking the boy's hand in his.
The boy and I both looked thoughtful for a moment before it dawned on me.
"You can't be serious," I said softly, not wanting to draw attention from the people around us.
"It's perfectly harmless," the man said, "I know a great deal of people who have lost one…some more than one."
"Lost what," the boy said, looking between the two of us.
"Why, a finger of course," the man said with a grin as the boy paled slightly.
He shook his head, "I…I don't think…"
"Please now, don't back down, after all, you do believe in this lighter, am I right?"
"Yeah…"
"And I promise to be very safe about it, after all many good men lose their fingers at job sites and live healthy lives. I will take along things to sanitize it and wrap it in case you lose."
"He won't get the finger back," I asked.
A mad glint came into the man's eyes, "no…if I win it's my prize."
The boy looked pale, looking between the man and myself.
"Take the bet then," the man said, seeming eager to start with his game, "we will even use this gentleman whose vacation I have interrupted as a referee. He will make sure we do it fair and square."
I was taken aback, "me?"
"Why yes, my fuzzy headed friend, better someone who has nothing to gain to be there."
I frowned at the fuzzy comment, after all it was not my fault the tropical air, or any air for that matter, did not agree with my hair. As I sulked, the boy nodded his head.
"Yeah…yeah let's do it!"
I was alarmed to find that the man and boy stood quickly and walked toward the hotel. I had to rush to catch up with them.
It was a short trip up to the gentleman's suite. Once there the gentleman began setting up the room, moving chairs around a table and calling room service.
"Yes, I am going to need some hand towels, ice, gauze, a cutting board, and a large knife."
He nodded as the voice on the other end talked to him.
"Yes, all to my suite, and hurry."
"How do we know that the car is real," I asked, not wanting the boy to be in a bad deal.
The man smirked, "look out my window."
The boy and I looked and saw a jet black Trans-Am parked right under the window.
The boy whistled low, "that car is sweet."
I sighed, "looks pretty nice."
"Purrs like a kitten too," the man said with a grin.
A few moments later a knock came to the door and the gentleman answered and took the items in a flurry and set them on the table after closing the door on the delivery boy.
"Here we are," he said with a grin.
"You sit here," he said to the boy, motioning toward a chair at the head of the little table.
"You next to him," he said to me, taking me by the shoulders and setting me in a seat. Then he took the knife in hand and set the cutting board in front of the boy, and the car keys next to it.
"Put your hand on the cutting board," he said to the boy, an eager look in his eyes.
He then looked at me, trying to look innocent, "I want to be ready…I want it quick and painless."
He then took his seat at the opposite end of the table, "alright, you have to light it ten times in a row. If you miss one, you lose. Our good friend here will keep count."
The boy and I both nodded. The man smiled, "ready when you are."
I looked at the boy, "are you sure about this."
The boy looked at his hand on the cutting board, then nodded, "yeah…let's do this."
The boy made to light the lighter fast.
"One."
The boy smiled, "knew it would work," he said breathlessly. He struck again.
"Two," I counted aloud again.
It continued on that way, "three, four, five, six…" the boy was happy, but the gentleman was seeming agitated.
"Seven," I said. Obviously this was a lighter that worked. It sent the smell of greasy fire into the air with each click.
The boy was smiling as he clicked it again.
"Eight," I said with confidence as the fire ignited. The gentleman frowned, knowing he was about to lose. I was alarmed as he stood from his chair, the knife in his hand and a hungry look in his eyes just as the door to him room opened.
"Gerard no," the young man screamed as he launched himself into the room, knocking into the gentleman and wrestling him to the bed and taking the knife.
The boy and I looked alarmed as the young man stood from the bed, tossing the knife away.
"I am so sorry," the young man said, "this is all my fault."
"What are you talking about," the boy said, looking bewildered as he looked at the gentleman on the bed.
"I left him for only a moment I swear…I went in a shop, I wanted to get him something nice, and I came back and he was gone, I looked everywhere and someone at the pool said he had come back inside. Thank goodness I came back in time."
"What just happened," the boy shouted.
"We were just having a bet Mikey, nothing bad…" the gentleman said in a sullen voice, pouting on the bed.
The young man shook his head, "did he bet you a car?"
The boy and I nodded, "a Trans-Am."
"And he had you bet a finger?"
The boy nodded.
The young man sighed, his hands in his hair, "back in Jersey he collected over fifty fingers on bets like this. That's why we had to move…remember Gerard!" He shouted the last part at the gentleman, who seemed to shrink a bit into the bed.
The young man shook his head, "besides, he does not have one to bet."
"What are you talking about? He has the keys…it's outside the window," the boy cried.
The young man shook his head, "no…it isn't his. Its mine, I won it from him a long time ago."
The young man smirked, "he has nothing to bet with at all…I finally won it all from him. One piece at a time…"
The young man then reached across the table for the keys. I hid a scream behind my teeth as I saw his right hand before it closed around the keys.
It was fingerless, except for his thumb and pointer finger…just enough to ignite a lighter.
This was done for a contest on dA, but I am putting it here too.
Hope readers enjoy it.
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I had taken a trip for myself. Being in and out of work for so long, I figured I'd earned it. I went to resort off the coast of Hawaii, and stayed in a rather nice hotel. I was sitting at the pool side, watching families at play and the girls sun bathing while a drank a beer.
That's when I met him. He came and stood in front of me, large sunglasses hiding his eyes while a rather large sun hat hid his dyed black hair from view. I shielded my eyes to look him over, smirking slightly at the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing.
"May I sit here," he asked, motioning to the seat next to me at the table, "this sun is killer."
"Sure," I said, making room for the chair under the umbrella at my table.
The man sat, looking around at the other people at the pool, seeming to be watching for something, perhaps someone.
"Why are all these people here," the man said in a tired drawl. His voice sounded weird, as if two accents were competing for dominance. One sounded like my own Jersey accent, but the other sounded odd…like maybe he had moved somewhere else…maybe California.
"It is summer," I said softly, not liking him, or the way I could see his eyes sizing up the people around us through his sunglasses' lenses.
"It's always summer here, always hot," he muttered as he took off his sunglasses. His mind seemed to be far away as his eyes followed a young boy in the pool with dark hair and a smattering of tattoos on his skin. I watched as he motioned for the young boy to come over. He grinned and swam over, water glistening on his tanned skin. He grabbed his hoodie from a nearby chair and walked over.
"Hey there," he said, grabbing a cigarette from his hoodie's pocket and a lighter. The man's eyes glittered as he saw the lighter. The young man opened the lighter and made to light it.
"It won't light in this wind," the man said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Mine will…has not failed me yet."
He then lit his cigarette and took a drag before offering the man and I one. I declined, while the man accepted, following the lighter with his eyes as he took a drag.
"See," the boy said with a look of glee on his face, "lights anywhere I want it to."
The man looked thoughtful, and I really wished that the boy had not opened his mouth.
"Willing to make a bet," the man said on a smoky breath.
The boy's eyes lit up, "what kind of bet?"
"A bet," said the man, leaning closer to the boy, "one over your lighter. I bet you couldn't make it light ten times in a row."
The boy laughed, "is this a joke? That's too easy! What's the wager?"
The man sat back, looking thoughtful and blowing out a plume of smoke.
"How's this, you win, and I will give you my Trans Am."
"What," the boy looked flabbergasted. "You've gotta be fuckin' me."
The man looked amused, but shook his head, "no, most certainly not. I have a great deal of cars, so I can spare one…but if I win…you will have to give up something too. Something big…"
The boy looked concerned, "what will I have to give up. I don't have much money…"
The man smirked, "what you will be giving up you have a lot of as well," he said, taking the boy's hand in his.
The boy and I both looked thoughtful for a moment before it dawned on me.
"You can't be serious," I said softly, not wanting to draw attention from the people around us.
"It's perfectly harmless," the man said, "I know a great deal of people who have lost one…some more than one."
"Lost what," the boy said, looking between the two of us.
"Why, a finger of course," the man said with a grin as the boy paled slightly.
He shook his head, "I…I don't think…"
"Please now, don't back down, after all, you do believe in this lighter, am I right?"
"Yeah…"
"And I promise to be very safe about it, after all many good men lose their fingers at job sites and live healthy lives. I will take along things to sanitize it and wrap it in case you lose."
"He won't get the finger back," I asked.
A mad glint came into the man's eyes, "no…if I win it's my prize."
The boy looked pale, looking between the man and myself.
"Take the bet then," the man said, seeming eager to start with his game, "we will even use this gentleman whose vacation I have interrupted as a referee. He will make sure we do it fair and square."
I was taken aback, "me?"
"Why yes, my fuzzy headed friend, better someone who has nothing to gain to be there."
I frowned at the fuzzy comment, after all it was not my fault the tropical air, or any air for that matter, did not agree with my hair. As I sulked, the boy nodded his head.
"Yeah…yeah let's do it!"
I was alarmed to find that the man and boy stood quickly and walked toward the hotel. I had to rush to catch up with them.
It was a short trip up to the gentleman's suite. Once there the gentleman began setting up the room, moving chairs around a table and calling room service.
"Yes, I am going to need some hand towels, ice, gauze, a cutting board, and a large knife."
He nodded as the voice on the other end talked to him.
"Yes, all to my suite, and hurry."
"How do we know that the car is real," I asked, not wanting the boy to be in a bad deal.
The man smirked, "look out my window."
The boy and I looked and saw a jet black Trans-Am parked right under the window.
The boy whistled low, "that car is sweet."
I sighed, "looks pretty nice."
"Purrs like a kitten too," the man said with a grin.
A few moments later a knock came to the door and the gentleman answered and took the items in a flurry and set them on the table after closing the door on the delivery boy.
"Here we are," he said with a grin.
"You sit here," he said to the boy, motioning toward a chair at the head of the little table.
"You next to him," he said to me, taking me by the shoulders and setting me in a seat. Then he took the knife in hand and set the cutting board in front of the boy, and the car keys next to it.
"Put your hand on the cutting board," he said to the boy, an eager look in his eyes.
He then looked at me, trying to look innocent, "I want to be ready…I want it quick and painless."
He then took his seat at the opposite end of the table, "alright, you have to light it ten times in a row. If you miss one, you lose. Our good friend here will keep count."
The boy and I both nodded. The man smiled, "ready when you are."
I looked at the boy, "are you sure about this."
The boy looked at his hand on the cutting board, then nodded, "yeah…let's do this."
The boy made to light the lighter fast.
"One."
The boy smiled, "knew it would work," he said breathlessly. He struck again.
"Two," I counted aloud again.
It continued on that way, "three, four, five, six…" the boy was happy, but the gentleman was seeming agitated.
"Seven," I said. Obviously this was a lighter that worked. It sent the smell of greasy fire into the air with each click.
The boy was smiling as he clicked it again.
"Eight," I said with confidence as the fire ignited. The gentleman frowned, knowing he was about to lose. I was alarmed as he stood from his chair, the knife in his hand and a hungry look in his eyes just as the door to him room opened.
"Gerard no," the young man screamed as he launched himself into the room, knocking into the gentleman and wrestling him to the bed and taking the knife.
The boy and I looked alarmed as the young man stood from the bed, tossing the knife away.
"I am so sorry," the young man said, "this is all my fault."
"What are you talking about," the boy said, looking bewildered as he looked at the gentleman on the bed.
"I left him for only a moment I swear…I went in a shop, I wanted to get him something nice, and I came back and he was gone, I looked everywhere and someone at the pool said he had come back inside. Thank goodness I came back in time."
"What just happened," the boy shouted.
"We were just having a bet Mikey, nothing bad…" the gentleman said in a sullen voice, pouting on the bed.
The young man shook his head, "did he bet you a car?"
The boy and I nodded, "a Trans-Am."
"And he had you bet a finger?"
The boy nodded.
The young man sighed, his hands in his hair, "back in Jersey he collected over fifty fingers on bets like this. That's why we had to move…remember Gerard!" He shouted the last part at the gentleman, who seemed to shrink a bit into the bed.
The young man shook his head, "besides, he does not have one to bet."
"What are you talking about? He has the keys…it's outside the window," the boy cried.
The young man shook his head, "no…it isn't his. Its mine, I won it from him a long time ago."
The young man smirked, "he has nothing to bet with at all…I finally won it all from him. One piece at a time…"
The young man then reached across the table for the keys. I hid a scream behind my teeth as I saw his right hand before it closed around the keys.
It was fingerless, except for his thumb and pointer finger…just enough to ignite a lighter.