Where Fortune Lies

by James Short

  “My job was only half done, so when Thornton showed himself on his rounds, I went out again and caught up with my wagon. Kurtz’s men were well aware of the aromatic occupant of the coffin by now so they decided not to bother me much. Also, many people suspect that an undertaker is a personal friend of death and killing him might make death mad. They even let me pass when I took the road towards the Boller mansion. I was not as afraid as I should have been. When Tomàs asked me how far I would go to help a friend, I had told him, ‘I do not think death wants me now because I make him look so good. What do you need?’”

  Kurtz and Jacinto Bargain

  Philip asked April whether she believed him because he wasn’t sure of the story himself.

  “Just tell it. We’ll worry about belief later,” April replied and reached for his hand to reassure him, then seemed to think better and pulled back.

  When they saw Jacinto drive up, Kurtz’s men joked they never had seen a man so well prepared to meet their boss as to bring his own coffin. Jacinto pointed out that he was too fat for the empty coffin, although any of them would fit in quite nicely. They turned a little green when they inspected the occupied coffin and encountered the dead staring eyes and gaping mouth of the tramp.

  “Alive, he was not so pretty,” Jacinto assured them.

  They pushed Jacinto around a little bit and called him a beaner. When he told them by way of correction he was from Portugal, they broke out into guffaws and said he didn’t look Chinese. And why did he talk like all of his teeth were loose and rattled together in his mouth? Eventually, Jacinto’s ability to smile and lack of fear neutralized their meanness. “Ah, so you scalp me,” Jacinto said, raising his eyes fearfully towards heaven. “Then your big boss gets bloody mess of hair instead of important message from Tomàs Deering.”

  Jacinto found Kurtz chewing on a cigar and meditating over a game of solitaire.

  “Well,” Kurtz said, not lifting his gaze from the cards.

  “Tomàs wants to know price,” Jacinto said.

  “What do you mean?” Kurtz growled.

  “How much money for you go away and never come back, Tomàs ask.”

  “Like every practical man I have my price,” Kurtz replied, head down continuing to study the cards. “Fifty thousand, and I’ll call us even.”

  Tomàs had warned Jacinto to expect an outrageous offer. “Too much money for bank, how do you expect Tomàs pay so much?”

  “Well, that’s my price. He can take it or leave it.”

  “Tomàs tell me, the man will ask for too much. Tomàs tell me to make offer: he play poker with you and win from you the money he need for you go away.”

  Kurtz now lifted his head and fixed his stare on Jacinto. “A man can walk across a pit of hot coals with his naked feet barely feeling them, but if he’s forced to stand there and dance—well, that’s a different story. Seems to me, I can do without this folderol just by making you stand on hot coals.”

  “I not brave man. I tell all secrets now. I no lie. I tell you I see Tomàs in Anita’s cove, certain he gone now. Always he find me. I not find him. Not enough coals and feet in Solvidado for you to find him.”

  “So you expect me to credit that Tom Deering is going to deliver himself into my hands for the sake of love.” Kurtz raised an eyebrow and drew in on his cigar.

  Jacinto nodded. “Which man in love not a fool in love? But tell me this: how else Tomàs to get his girl? How else for you to get him or his money?”

  Kurtz narrowed his cool gray eyes before opening them up and managing his strained version of a smile. “Sure, if Tom wants, he can just saunter up here and sit down to a poker game. You’re right. That way, I can stretch his neck after I get his money. He’s got to bring at least twenty-five thousand to the table. He must come alone. I'll also bring twenty-five thousand. As for a guarantee, he can rely on me being a man of my word. I’ll let him go free if he wins my twenty-five and then pays me the fifty, but if he don’t, I get his money, his neck, which cancel the debt of the other twenty-five he owes, and his girl, which I will debauch.”

  “How do I know you are, what you say, a man of word?”

  “That’s for him to decide. I’ll hunt him down, sooner or later. He knows I will, otherwise, he wouldn’t be making this offer. If he wins, he may avoid much unpleasantness. If I am a man of my word, of course.”

  “I come with Tomàs to see you keep the word.”

  “I said alone, but, sure, come, see me keep my word. Come with the thief, then after you can tell all who ask how Conrad Kurtz keeps his word.”

  Jacinto advised Tomàs that Kurtz wasn’t to be trusted, although he claimed he was a man of his word. “He see you, he kill you, and that be end of matter.”

  Tomàs nodded as if in agreement, then said, “No, Mr. Kurtz cannot resist a poker game.”

  Prayer’s End

  April found herself not so much hearing Philip’s words, but rather reimagining the scene from Penelope’s point of view. Maybe the fact words create a world in the mind was truly magical. Of some concern was that her consciousness seemed to be flickering—part of the time she was inside Penelope seeing nothing and part outside of her seeing everything.

  Trembling, Penelope pushed back the chair and stood. It was no good. She had almost finished her prayer, but then had gotten stuck on the phrase: Thy will be done. Why would God’s will be any different than her will? A child could see the right and wrong of the thing, yet God seemed inclined against her.

  For the hundredth time, Penelope reviewed the instructions Franklin had given her. He disapproved of Tom’s plan and wanted her to refuse to go along. He had told Tom it was unfair to expect men to die for him. “My boys love a good fight,” Tom had retorted. “And what you don’t understand about the folks in the Flats is if you dishonor one of us, you dishonor all of us.” Penny sided with Tom, challenging Franklin to explain how life with Kurtz could be better than an early death.

  She must do her part alone, Franklin had said. She must count the forty steps along the hall—he knew that she knew perfectly well how many steps there were—descend the flight of stairs, count the next fifty-five paces and again descend into the large room, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her, as if she could see. Why had he been so precise? Why did he tell her to count? She could walk down the stairs better than he could with his sight. Franklin had told her that she should pause at the bottom of the stairs, greet Tom who would be seated at the table with Kurtz. Tom would answer. Franklin would also be in the room, stationed by the door of the parlor off to the side. She then had her little speech to deliver, a speech designed to convince Kurtz to let her stay. If that went well, there would be a chair for her thirteen paces to her right. She would sit down and wait. Composed and pretty, Franklin had said.

  “How does a blind girl know whether she’s pretty or not?” Penelope challenged him on this point for the thousandth time.

  “Just be yourself,” he sighed.

  “I wish I knew what pretty was.”

  Franklin went on to say that she shouldn’t try to use her eyes. Penelope could sense nearby motion. That she could navigate better in a lighted hallway than a dark one also meant, Franklin said, that her eyes registered light. Penelope couldn’t describe light, but she knew its presence. She didn’t visualize really—her sense of a moving object and light was more like an expanded field of touch. That gave her the idea that if she shook her head, the motion of her head would make objects perceivable. Although it wasn’t true, Penny refused to relinquish the idea for the longest time, so it had become a habit. Anyway, Franklin didn’t want her to shake her head because it would appear odd. Kurtz had to believe that she could see like any other girl. Her job then was to sit and wait, he repeated.

  “As useless as a doll in a corner,” Penelope had protested.

  “Yes, if you want to put it that way,” Franklin replied.

  “Wait until when or what?”

  “Until I walk to the fr
ont door and say ‘It’s hot in here,’” Franklin continued. Then she should stand and wait. When she heard the front door open, she should reach out her hand.

  “Reach out for what?” Penelope had asked. For his hand, Franklin had responded, and he would guide her out of danger.

  Penelope prayed again sincerely: God, give me a moment of true sight and put a weapon in my hand so I may do something that means something. God, I hate being so helpless. And God, as is occasionally His custom, answered her prayer in a way that seemed to mock its foolishness.

  Just as Franklin finished his instructions, there was a rap on the door like the tapping of a bird’s beak, followed by her mother’s voice, “Open up, Penelope. You have an important visitor.”

  “How dare mother brings him here!” Penelope whispered to Franklin.

  “We must allow them in,” Franklin said.

  The important visitor entered with heavy steps, bringing with him the pungent smell of cigar smoke. Although he hadn’t yet said anything, his presence crowded the room.

  “Penelope, this is Mr. Conrad Kurtz,” Madeleine Boller said. “Mr. Kurtz, this is Penelope, my daughter. Now that you’ve seen her, I’m certain she meets with your approval. We can continue our discussion downstairs.”

  “Hold on, Mrs. Boller. The deal ain’t a deal until I look her over,” the voice of sandpaper on steel said.

  “What sort of deal?” Penelope asked. Although she was aware of the contract between her mother and Kurtz—virtually selling her—she wanted to see if her mother had the courage to admit it.

  Madeleine Boller took on an apologetic tone. “You can see that many might consider her fair. She isn’t quite…”

  “Don’t tell me what I see. I got eyes and can see for myself. Stand up, Miss.” Kurtz’s voice rubbed on her nerves like salt into a wound. “Stand!” he commanded.

  Franklin whispered, “Do as he asks.”

  Penelope stood wondering if her anger was visible. She gave a gasp of surprise when rough hands seized her right arm, felt along its length, and squeezed its upper part. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s alright,” Franklin whispered.

  “Don’t presume to speak for me, darky,” Kurtz growled. “I say what’s okay and what’s not.”

  “Why are you here?” Penelope shook her arm free with difficulty.

  “After you become my wife tomorrow, you will have to get used to my hand.” He hacked out a cough. “Among the many things you will learn to accustom yourself to.”

  “I do not choose to marry you, so you may leave my room and this house.”

  “Your mother made the promise you’d come around after you got over your little snit. ‘Meek as a lamb,’ she promised me. Don’t know about that. Seems to me temper is right natural in a girl surprised by the news I just gave you. But in the end, your snit won’t mean nothing. Don’t like my gray hairs? Don’t like the calluses on my hands? Don’t like the scar on my lip? Can’t blame you, but it don’t matter. You’ll get used to them, by and by. Putting a mind to it, a man or woman can get reconcile themselves to practically anything.” Kurtz cleared his throat—a terrible sound.

  “Your mother says there is a lack of men of property hereabouts to make a decent match for her daughter. Ain’t much hereabouts as far as I can see. With the forest logged out, this town is dying. People just don’t know it yet. I paid your mother three hundred dollars as proof I was a man of means and determination. Don’t think she’s going to like the prospect of giving me my three hundred dollars back.”

  “My mother has had nothing to do with my life for the last ten years, so she has defrauded you and must return your money. I believe that you’re capable of collecting your dollars, Mr. Kurtz.”

  “Yep, I am able, but it don’t signify. The money is just a courtesy. I don’t like to take a thing without paying for it, but I will if the thing is what I need, and nobody’s disposed to sell. I require you for a particular business so I will get you. I’ll pay attention to legalities and marry you. But you see, it’s not you I’m really after. It’s revenge.”

  “What did Tom do to you?” Penelope had harbored the fear since their first meeting that the man she pledged her life to had committed an unforgivable crime.

  “Tom Deering damaged my property to the tune of many tens of thousands of dollars. Now it’s my turn to take from him property he values greatly. What I want him to be certain of when I tighten the knot in the noose around his neck is your future. As long as he knows beyond any doubt you belong to me, only to me, it don’t matter much if you’re satisfied or not with the arrangement.”

  “You must have done something to him first,” she said, partly relieved the crime involved only property.

  “A good deed, I did. I whipped him to the bone to show him cheating at cards wasn’t a good way to make a living.”

  Penelope shivered. She hadn’t forgotten what it was to be beaten. “I refuse to have anything to do with you.”

  “Penny,” Franklin tried to soothe her.

  Kurtz went on: “Do you think whether you agree or not to the arrangement has any bearing? Don’t deceive yourself that this is a matter of choice.”

  “Sheriff Thornton will arrest you, and you won’t be able to stop him.” Penelope tried to deliver this line as a certainty and failed.

  “Miss, you seem to think I can’t do what I set my mind to do. Sheriff Thornton might be fool enough to try to arrest me. I brought with me thirty witnesses who will swear to what I tell them to swear to. As for the other people who might consider interfering, where money don’t work on the interests of a good citizen, fear will; and where fear don’t work, then it’s easy enough to push that good citizen out of my way.”

  Penelope hated herself as she felt her will bending to his. “How can you live with yourself, Mr. Kurtz? You have nothing in you other than the desire for revenge. You are despicable and pathetic.”

  “Why don’t you know, Miss, revenge is the best medicine a man can give himself? Makes a body feel young and strong. Frankly, I can’t see how the poor souls who make a practice of turning the other cheek live with themselves. I haven’t had a soft life in a big house, Miss, so I had to learn how the world works. I got to admit I had a few months of grief at the age of twelve when I realized the world gave way to hard men and trampled underfoot so-called good men. Didn’t seem right, didn’t seem Christian, and I didn’t want to accept it. But when I came around, I found out since I didn’t want anything I couldn’t touch or taste or see, I could get everything I required to make me happy.”

  “I guess I’ve had a soft life, unlike you.” Penny experienced a small enjoyment in this lie, which seemed to give her an advantage over Kurtz. She believed the intense narrow evil that she survived was comparable with whatever he had endured. She went on: “I’m not acquainted with the world as you claim to be, Mr. Kurtz, however, there are better men than you who succeed.”

  “Better is always a matter of opinion. I’m as rich as an honest man, a man of his word, can get. I never met a man richer that warn’t a thief.”

  “I have.”

  “I wouldn’t call you a good judge of character, seeing that you mostly keep the company of niggers and thieves. Well, good day, Miss. Next time I come for you, dress nice, dress nice for it will be your wedding day.”

  “A question, Mr. Kurtz, before you go.” She heard him stop at the door. “What do you know about me?” Penelope hadn’t believed Franklin when he said that Kurtz had no idea she was blind.

  “Know all I need to know. You’re Tom Deering’s girl. You’ve been meeting with him secretly late at night, so I’m not expecting an unsullied bride. You’re a fair looker, I can see that now. Being a young thing, you might take my fancy for a while. Nothing else is of any concern.”

  “She didn’t tell you about any defects? My eyes, for example.”

  “Weak eyes? Why would I care about that?” Kurtz shook his head.

  “No, why would you?”

&
nbsp; Kurtz left. Franklin’s hand on her shoulder couldn’t calm her trembling, so he gathered her in for a moment. “Courage,” he said in a voice that showed he was also shaken. Franklin pushed her away gently and again began to go over the instructions of her part in Tom’s plan. Then the heavy footsteps returned. The door burst open. Penelope could feel the hostile presence of Kurtz filling the room.

  “Another thing, nigger. I don’t like you keeping company with my wife to be. Although you may have a deed to this pile of moldering wood, I have a deed to her, and I enforce my deeds with whatever it takes.”

  Franklin squeezed her hand and again whispered “Courage.”

  “What am I to do?” Penelope begged for the answer.

  “I don’t know,” Franklin said in a hollow voice. He left, and Kurtz shut the door.

  Penelope was alone now. She was furious with Franklin. How stupid of him to have the plan depend on his presence in the house. Furthermore, he had only told Penny about his part in opening the door. He hadn’t anticipated being kicked out of his own house so everything was impossible. Impossible unless... unless she could be the one to open the door at the right moment. Yet there must have been other things Franklin needed to do before and after, which he didn’t mention.