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Breathing Fire & Other Stories, Page 2

Courtney Wallace

The High Card

  The best part of 7-card stud is that it can be played in complete silence, which made Sheriff Douglas happy, as he was running out of things to say. He drank the rest of his lemonade and Ed poured him some more.

  The sheriff rubbed his sun burned neck and posted the bring-in. A red chip sailed into the wicker basket.

  “Ed, can you turn up the air conditionin’?”

  “It broke last Tuesday. I haven’t had a chance to fix it yet, sorry. You gettin’ warm?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too. Sorry, man. Lord, I’m burnin’ up like a sinner in church. What about you?” Ed cracked a smile. Douglas looked down at his cards.

  The queen of spades was dead. The five too, though that wasn’t as important. Sheriff Douglas was riding a spade railroad to a lighter wallet.

  Ed shuffled the cards again. Sheriff Douglas guzzled his lemonade, rolled his shoulders, and let out a weak yawn. The hard, wooden kitchen chair was making him squirm. He eyed Ed across the table.

  “So, Dougie what do ya want to play next. More stud or how about some black jack?”

  “I don’t know Ed, it’s gettin’ pretty late. I’m beat and I’m sure you’re tired, might want to get some sleep.”

  “I can’t sleep in that bed, Dougie.”

  “Why? ‘Cause of Maylee? Now, Ed she wouldn’t want you making yourself sick on her account.”

  Ed examines his lemonade, looking at the small leaves sticking to the sides of the glass. The sheriff quickly grabbed his glass again.

  “What’s with these damn tiny leaves in the lemonade, Ed?”

  “Oh, Maylee made this pitcher before she, you know. She thought the leaves were cute, decoration or something.”

  “Oh.”

  The sheriff takes out one of the leaves, sniffing it. He pops it in his mouth, chewing the grainy texture.  

  “I know you slept with her.”

  Sheriff Douglas put down his lemonade.

  “How long you known?”

  “How had it been goin’ on for?”

  “Ed--”

  “You don’t have to answer. I get it. It’s just, I need to know, you know? For my own peace of mind. Now that she’s gone.”

  Sheriff Douglas wiped the sweat off his forehead, he munched on the little leaf stuck on his molars.

  “About two years now.”

  “Okay. I’ve known now about six months. I wish she woulda said something. Told me what was goin’ on.” Ed said. He leaned back, head tilted toward the ceiling. The sheriff could nearly smell the salt of Ed’s tears. The smell joining the reek of the sheriff’s own sweat. “I woulda forgiven her, you know. Even now, knowing all this, I woulda still forgiven her. I woulda said ‘it’s okay darlin.’ We’ll get through this darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about anymore.’ And then we’d a been okay.”

  “Ed. It was a mistake.”

  “It’s all right, I suppose. Ain’t like it could happen anymore right, Dougie?”

  Ed looks back down at the forgotten poker cards on the table. He started to shuffle, not even bothering to finish their game of blackjack. He dealt again.

  “I just need to know somethin’ else. Did you love her?”

  “Ed, I, it’s not that simple.”

  “Ain’t it, though?”

  “Maylee and I, we had fun. She was fun and carefree, she just wanted to hang out with someone like her sometimes. She loved you.”

  “You didn’t love her though, and she didn’t love you. I don’t get it then.”

  “Get what, Ed?”

  “I thought I was your friend, Maylee was my wife.”

  “Ed, it wasn’t anything serious, you gotta believe me. We had fun, that’s it.”

  “She couldn’t have fun with me?”

  Ed pushed his glass away, still full.

  “Ed, you’re a great guy, but you’re always serious. It’s all about payin’ bills, goin’ to work, havin’ kids, mowin’ the lawn. All that crap. Did you know she didn’t even want kids?”

  Ed threw his cards on the table. “I fold.”

  “She didn’t want all the responsibility that you wanted. Ed. That’s why we just had fun. I just wanted her to have a chance to loosen up sometimes. You know what I mean?”

  Ed looked at the Sheriff, eyes swimming. Douglas flinched.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Sheriff Douglas started to shuffle again.

  “Ed, I just want you to know I really am sorry. I didn’t want you to get hurt and I’m sure as hell Maylee didn’t either. You gotta know that.”

  “I said it’s all right, Dougie. It’s all in the past. Bygones be bygones and such.”

  “She did love you. She loved you a lot. That I’m completely sure of.”

  Ed nodded while Sheriff Douglas took another swig of lemonade. He looked at his cards. Not a great hand this round. He made eye contact with Ed across the table.

  “I gotta know, Ed. How did you find out?”

  Sheriff Douglas took off his suit jacket. He had sweat stains under his arms that reached toward the middle of his chest. His esophagus filled with vomit, he swallowed hard, forcing the acidic lava back down. Another swig of lemonade.

  “Aw, you know what they say about poker, Dougie, follow the queen.”

  “You followed Maylee to the hotel--”

  “Yep, followed her and saw you two together. Everything made sense then.”

  “Ed, I’m sorry.”

  “I know. It’s all right. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure, Ed.”

  Rivers of salty water fell from the Sheriff’s forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Dougie, but since we’re bein’ honest, I gotta tell ya. I lied.”

  “What?”

  Ed stretched his arms out, fingers nearly hitting the ceiling, adding a good foot and a half to his height. Then he took off his wedding band and spun it on the table. Sheriff Douglas looked at him, his eyes were dry now.

  “Yeah. Maylee ain’t the one who put the little leaves in the lemonade. Sure she made it, but I was the one who put in the little leaves. The day before she died I fed her about three glasses, I suppose.”

  “What’re you tryin’ to say here, Ed?”

  “I think you know, Dougie.”

  The Sheriff put down his lemonade.

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Hemlock leaves. They don’t have a flavor compared to the lemons and nobody really recognizes them. But they grow wild all around.”

  Sheriff Douglas leans to his right and vomited onto the floor.

  “Why, Ed?” The Sheriff clutches his chest.

  Ed leans around the table and grimaces at the mess.

  “You slept with my wife.”

  Sheriff Douglas uselessly wiped at the vomit smeared on his shirt.

  No use being mad at a dead person now is there?”

  “But, Ed, you’re such a nice guy.” The sheriff tumbles to the floor, eyes closed.

  “Yeah, I was, Dougie. Look where it got me.”