Day CXCII

Helen's Chain

     “So how much ditcha pay im fo it?”

    After a long pause, Red looked Gus right in the eye, then he looked down at the counter, and as he shook his head, murmured,

     “Two hunet!”

     “Sheeeeeeeessssssssssshhhhhhh! Man, det musta bin some con det junky don played on ya.”

     Red didn’t respond, he lit another smoke, and stared out the window. Gus believed there was a tear forming in his eye, though he wasn’t sure. But he did see him wipe his eye with a tissue.

     “Da allahgies, man…they keeps facking wit me eyes, man.”

     Gus stayed with him for a while, tried to console him, and heard his tale. He really wanted to laugh his ass off, because nobody ever got the better of Red. But here a skanky junky of all people rode his jive ass. He had to bite his tongue several times, especially when he heard the part about the granny. Red was feeling so bad, he closed the store, and went home. A few days later Gus walks in, and Red was behind the counter minus his swell chain.

     “So wa ya cool chain, Red?”

     “Funny ya shud walk in hea na, bwa. Oi jest don sold it ta Harold.”

     “Harold! Ya bestestest pal, Harold, I cain’t be lee ya don didit ta im, man!"

     “Yea he don sed he was looking fo a gift fo his wife’s boitday, man.”

     “So lemme guess…he fell in love widda facking chain too, uh?”

     “Yea man, we haggled back an foith for a while. He said he knew it was Cuban gold, and for some reason he thought da image ona medallion had a semblance ta Helen, his old lady, ya na.”