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The Man from The Railway
by GJ Hart Dunbar feels the nerve twitch and squeezes his jaw. The painkillers have turned his stomach and his dentist is on Safari. As he instructs his driver to stop he sees a sheet hanging above the shop's entrance. It is filthy and scrawled in red with the words, 'FUCK OFF'. He lowers his head and moans. Dunbar's boss is not happy. Dunbar’s boss is never happy. Dunbar’s boss lives in a district on the edge of town that Dunbar and his family visit at weekends and feel like tourists. Dunbar ignores his boss; he considers his record solid: in four months he has closed every shop but one. He passes windows blanked out with white paint and shivers with well-being. He stops outside the Deli and checks his pocket. He sees movement inside and wishes he was somewhere else, somewhere dark; sophisticating his pain with single malt. He smooths his hair with shaking hands and enters. The shop is busy. As he walks toward the counter, Adriana and her daughters see him and fall silent. Dunbar inhales bay leaf and pig's blood and considers showing them the photographs of his children he keeps in his wallet. But as he stands, folding his coat, he catches the daughter's eye and decides against it. Secretly, Dunbar adores the place. It is, he concedes sadly, the last place to take a tooth ache. In one corner, a costume cart swoons with freshly baked Bolo de Ferradura. Strings of Farinheira hang from ceiling beams and a huge Presunto reclines beneath glass, like an absurd homage to the taste of death. Dunbar's mouth waters, rehydrating the pain in his mouth. Adriana removes her apron and leads him through beads to an office at the back. As he takes the letter from his inside pocket, Dunbar calculates they must be directly beneath the tracks. Adriana grabs the envelope, tears it open and reads the four short lines. "This means nothing, " she says. "I told you, if you don't take the money, the lawyers will. Now it's too late. It's already sold." Adriana Spits at his feet "Thirty years. Thirty years!" she says, grabbing his arms. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do." Her daughters appear in the doorway screaming words he doesn't understand. Adriana takes the letter and stuffs it in her mouth. The 4.20 thunders above them, heading to the edges of town. The room vibrates and the nerve in his tooth begins to spasm. Dunbar pushes his way out and hurries toward his car. He needs more pills, but has forgotten how many he's taken. As he slides across leather, he wonders whether, if he takes more, he will overdose. |
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