Money, Money, Money

The casino gave free drinks to its customers which, to Donald Jefferson Bartlett (the Third), saved the embarrassment of his credit cards being declined. He called for another whiskey. The barman, to save future effort, poured him a double.

Through the dark glass of the mirror, two men watched him.

“Sometimes I just want to tell them.” The younger man scowled.

“Tell them what?”

“Tell them they’re wasting their time. Tell them there are more important things – love, war, life, eternity, all that stuff.”

“You think that’ll help? Go ahead.” The older man smiled.

“I can’t. It’s an abuse of power.”

“It’s not an abuse if I tell you to do it. So, go on. Tell him whatever you want.”

“You serious?”

“I’m serious.”

The younger man bit his cheek and looked sideways across the bar. “Alright then. Hold onto these for me….”

Donald Jefferson Bartlett (the Third) peered into his whiskey, and wondered if it should have been a triple.

“It won’t tell your future!” the young man sat down across the table from him.

“Huh?”

“The whiskey. It won’t tell the future. Some of the ancients, they used to look in pools of water, or blood, or oil, and try to see images, truths – but, hell, if you try that and you see anything then, best case, you’re mad. Best case, that is.”

“You some sort of weirdo? Some new age crackpot?”

“Me? No – I’m a military man, myself. You a military man?”

“Err, yeah. US Army.”

“I figured as much. I can tell. Hell of a life, ain’t it?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I’m Mike. Pleased to meet you.” The young man held out his hand.

Donald Jefferson Bartlett (the Third) looked long and hard at the stranger before shaking his hand. “Don. Don Bartlett.”

“So, where were you stationed?”

Don shrugged. “Midwest, mostly, but we saw some of the world. Central America couple o’times, and went to Europe once. I didn’t much care for the rest of the world, though.”

“Home’s always best.”

Don sat up straight and looked his guest in the eye: “God bless America!”

“Amen to that.” said the young man, with a soft conviction that made Don uncomfortable.

“So where were you based?” Don changed the subject.

“I travelled all over, saw a lot of the Middle East. But like you say, home’s best. What part of the Army? What did you do?”

“Not much I should talk about.” Don made an effort to look serious. “But nothing I wouldn’t do all over again, for my country.”

“You still in the Army?”

Don shook his head. “I left ten years ago. Got a job driving eighteen-wheelers out across Colorado, Nebraska….”

“Tough life. You find time to settle down…? You ever have a family?”

“Yeah, I settled.”

“Where abouts?”

“Near Lincoln, Nebraska.”

“Great state, Nebraska. Wide open spaces. Real majesty to the place. A man could feel close to God under that big sky! Great farming country, too. You ever farmed, Don?”

“I never farmed.”

“I guess you had friends who did, living in a place like that. Maybe kin…?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You had farming kin? Many of ‘em?”

“My wife’s folks farmed.”

“But you didn’t get into that?”

“She wasn’t big on farming. Saw there was no money in it. We talked about it, but….”

“She wanted you to earn more?”

“I got into Sales. There’s good money in Sales.”

“So I hear. But then, that ain’t everything.”

Don motioned to the bartender, who obliged with another double.

“So what brings you here?” the young man probed again after a short silence.

“What else? Same as everyone else in Vegas.”

“You didn’t make enough money in Sales?”

“Yeah, yeah I made plenty, but what’s it to you?” Don slumped back in his seat, his fists clenched on the table. “You come in here, all smiles and pushy questions? You think just ‘cos we both served for our country you can pry into a man’s life? Just what do you want, mister?”

The young man sat impassive, and thought for a second. “I want to tell you the truth.”

“The truth? Oh Jesus fucking Christ I should have knowed it! You’re some goddam religious nut, try to convert a man when he’s down. Whatever you’re selling, I ain’t buying!”

“No, Don, I’m not pushing any doctrine or creed. I just wanna tell you the truth. But first, I wanted to hear your side of the story. You wanna tell me your side of it?”

“Tell you what? Fuck you!”

The young man bit his cheek and thought again. “Alright. I’ll begin. Your name is Donald Jefferson Bartlett, the Third – well actually the Second, since your grandfather was Donald Thomas Bartlett. You served in the Army Logistics Corps, but you’d like everyone to think you were some kind of Special Forces. That’s what Annie thought when she married you.”

Don stood up and leaned across the table. “Who the fuck are you! Whoever you are, I’m not taking your shit!”

“I’m a concerned passer-by, Don, who happens to know the truth.” He looked him in the eye and spoke quietly, but with a firm authority. “And the truth is that you will sit down, and listen to me.”

Don raised a finger and took a breath to speak, but he said nothing, paused and then sat down.

“Good, then I’ll continue. You married Annie Lee eight years ago, when you’d only known her for four months. Her father had gone near bankrupt when she was a kid, so of course she worried about money, and she was worried you’d not be able to support the kids she wanted you to have together.”

“You don’t know nothing. You don’t know the greedy bitch!”

“Sure she was greedy, and she was vain, but a lot of people are today. So when Ed Pascoe came along, sure she was impressed. But she didn’t leave you for him because of his money. Don, she left you because you never listened to a word she said, and because you beat her when you got drunk. Now, you’ve spent the last three years working your ass off to make money to impress her, and when nothing worked you came here to Vegas and wasted every cent you had, plus about ten thousand dollars you don’t have, on some get-rich quick dream. If you wanted Annie back you should have talked to her, and now it’s too late. You need to get on with your life and stop thinking that everything that went wrong with Annie was down to how much money you, or she, or Ed Pascoe had.”

Don blinked several times and took a deep breath. “Mister, I don’t know what you want with me, but I swear that if you don’t get the hell out of here right now, I’ll knock your goddam head clear off your shoulders!”

“Don, have you heard a word I said?”

“I said get out or by Christ I’ll tan your hide!”

The young man sighed, stood, turned and left the bar, walking into the mirror and disappearing.

“What did you tell him?”

“You know what I told him.”

“You told him the truth.” The older man smiled, handing back Michael’s sword and halo. “I knew it. Look what happened to me when I tried that one.”

“Jesus, you’re right as always.” And the two turned and walked slowly off into eternity, in search of a mirror with a better view.