Thermopolis, Wy
Thursday, April 23, 2020
This short story popped into my mind (in my sleep, as usual) and I had to write it, about an interesting confrontation between two former high school class mates, always rivals, then enemies, now old men looking to settle their grudge. Read at your own risk--

Squaring Things
Short story, 1,962 words

Charles got there first and sat on the hard, cement park bench. He pulled his coat around him against the cold breeze and threw a handfull of corn from the $3 bag to the pigeons that swarmed around his feet. His stomach rumbled, the nausea rose up inside him. He shouldn't have taken the medication on an empty stomach.

Weber hobbled up, waved his cane at the pigeons, who rose and thundered away. He plopped down on the double seat bench across the gravel walk with steel arm-rest dividers, puffing and perspiring from walking the 200 feet from his car. He leaned his cane up against the bench and pulled a red bandanna with white polka-dots from his coat pocket. As he wiped his face, he nodded to Charles. "Hello, asshole."

Charles grunted, "Ef you, butt-head!"

Weber tucked the bandanna away. He looked at Charles for a moment. The full head of white hair combed straight back as always. A few long, missed whiskers on the creased neck. Some stains on the front of the rumpled shirt. Dark spots on the hands. The fingers of the right hand opened and closed as if trying to hold on to something. He took a deep breath. "So what has it been, twenty years or so? Last time we insulted each other must have been at the thirty year reunion?"

"Who gives a shit?"

"So how are you doing, Chas?"

"I am doing fine! I still have all my hair," he grunted, "And you almost had a heart attack, walking fifty feet!"

"Well yeah, but last time I heard, you lived alone except for an old widowed woman, Claire, was it? Taking care of you."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

Weber shrugged. "So I got the name right, doesn't matter who told me." A small, quick smile: "So why, after all this time, did you call me and want to meet?"

"Want to square things... old things."

Weber's eyebrows went up. "What things?" He leaned forward. "If we are going to go over old things, let's clear up the scholarship award."

"Well first, can we dispense with the names?"

Weber's eyes narrowed. "I will if you will."

Charles nodded. "OK. You and I both know if you hadn't got kicked off the football team in our senior year, you would have won that scholarship to Auburn State, instead of me."

"Yeah, so you told the coach you saw me smoking at that party?"

"No, but I had Barney Green tell Litchen."

"Dirty pool, Chas!"

"I always felt bad about that."

Weber shook his head. "When I look back and see what that free ride could have meant, I mean, my whole life could have been different!" He sat back and grimaced."That is the rottenest thing anyone has ever done to me!" A grim smile. "And now, you want to just square that with an apology?" Weber shook his head and sighed.

"I didn't say that, just wanted you to know." Charles looked away for a moment, then at Weber. "I want to talk about Loretta."

"God Bless her memory!" He squinted at Charles. "You screwed that up." Weber propped himself up on the arm rests. "She was crazy to marry you in the first place, and you didn't win her, you bought her!"

"You're still a sore loser, Web!"

Weber raised his head. "I loved her, and Lor's mother had a great deal to do with talking Loretta into marrying you, for the security." He nodded, "I had a bum reputation, and my job at the lumber mill paid about one-fourth of what you made at the bank."

"She loved me!"

"Yeah, and you lost her because of your raging jealousy, and you cheated on her!"

"You can't prove that!"

"Oh yeah I can." Web leaned forward. "Elaine Moore and I had a lot of conversations after you ruined her marriage."

"I heard you had a thing with her, before her and Ed got back together."

"A One-Night-Stand, just a 'Mercy Hump,' Chas."

"Bullshit."

"No offense, but she said I was twice the lay, with a bigger tool, and I made her come three times in one night."

"She told me she couldn't, because of that abortion she had in her sophomore year."

"She was letting you off easy."

Charles glared and squirmed in his seat. "I want to know what happened when Lor came to see you when she left me."

Weber squinted at Charles. "You really want to know all that?" He sat back and looked at his old rival, then a chill hit the back of his neck. He tilted his head sideways. "Wait a minute, Chas, something just hit me."

Charles sat back and waited.

Weber rubbed his chin. "What's really going on, Chas?" He pointed a finger. "Oh, wait! I know, something's wrong with you, right?"

"I'm dying. Cancer of the pituitary."

"How long do you have?"

"Maybe two months."

Weber sat silent. He looked down and made a circle with one foot in the gravel.

Charles cleared his throat. "So what about you and Loretta?" When Weber didn't answer, he leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "Look, I really need to know."

Weber put both elbows on the armrests and crossed his hands under his chin. He looked at Charles for a long time, then nodded to himself. His lips were flat as he spoke. "Loretta was a drunken wreck when she came to my house that night."

Charles rubbed his eyebrow. "She never drank before, and my insurance agent told me about the accident."

"She was drunk, and she hit the light pole on the corner when she turned onto my street." Charles raised his hand but Weber stopped him. "Let me tell the whole story, or I won't be able to."

Charles dropped his hand.

"Loretta and I sat on the couch in my living room. She didn't want the lights on. We both had a lot to drink. She went from cursing you to crying, first blaming you for not wanting children, and then swearing she was glad because what you did would have broken the family apart."

Weber leaned forward. "Did you ever, ever realize how badly Loretta wanted children?"

Charles was silent.

Weber waited, then continued, "When she finally passed out I threw a comforter over her and went to bed." Weber stopped and looked up at the gray sky. "She woke me up sometime later-I don't know how long-she was in bed with me, then she was naked, and sobbing, and at first I just held her, but she wouldn't have it." He looked at Charles. "I didn't take her, she took me!"

Charles groaned and convulsed forward. A long, "Ahhh!" burst from him, and tears streamed down his face. His chest heaved up and down. He stopped for a moment, then a fresh cry escaped him: "You dirty bastatrd!" He reached in his coat and pulled out a revolver and pointed it at Weber. "You raped my wife, that's why she killed herself!"

Weber smiled. "You going to kill me, Chas?"

Charle's cheeks pulled back and his bared teeth were clamped together. "By the time they prosecute me, I'll be dead!" He held the revolver at arm's length. "Die, you bastard!" He pulled the trigger. There was a sharp "Click!" Charles tilted the revolver back and looked at it, then pointed it again and pulled the trigger. "Click!"

Weber was leaning back in his seat laughing. "Chas, Chas, you old fool! Your housekeeper, Claire, came to see me last night after she heard your phone conversation with me, and saw you load that .357." Weber nodded. "She dumped the bullets out after you went to bed."

Charle's eyes were wide. Through closed lips, he muttered, "Claire betrayed me."

"Yeah, not only that, but check this out, Chas!" Weber pulled a small revolver from his coat. "Any last words, Chas?"

Charles's eyes widened and he held both hands up in front of him.

Weber pointed and squeezed the trigger. "Click, click!" He laughed, "Bang, bang! Had to get you that last time, Chas!" With the revolver lowered, Weber stopped laughing. He tucked the revolver in a coat pocket. "To square everything, Chas, Loretta found out she was pregnant two months after our night together."

Charle's hands went to each side of his head. "Stop!"

"No, you need to hear this." Weber stopped for a moment; then, "She didn't tell anyone, not even Emily, her best friend she was staying with." Weber's face was grim. "By then you were begging her to come back, and if she had not been pregnant, she would have." He held up his hands. "To complicate everything, the Ob-Gyn doctor told her she would have trouble carrying the baby full term, and to not drink any alcohol." Weber pointed at his old enemy. "Don't you see how torn she was, between divorcing you and staying with me, but she still loved you, not me." Weber shrugged. "Sure, she really had a lot of affection for me, but not love, you understand?"

Charles just stared, his mouth open.

"Then Elaine came to Emily's one night and told Emily about her filing for divorce, and how you promised to marry her, all that shit, while Loretta listened in the next room."
A sad smile, then Weber spoke again. "Elaine told me Loretta got very drunk that night. When she started bleeding Emily took her to the ER, where she lost the baby."

Weber lifted himself on the armrests and pushed back on the bench. His voice lowered, grinding out the words. "And that's where she lost her life, too. Not right there, but yeah, right then." He slid his feet back and stood. "And that's the end of the story."

Grabbing his cane, Weber took two steps away, then turned back and looked down at the old man, his head almost on his lap, white hair falling over his face. "I guess that almost squares everything, doesn't it?"

When Weber reached his car, he looked back. Charles still sat on the bench, a small, bent figure.

The bright sun made diamonds of the drops of water hanging in the poplar trees bordering Memorial Gardens. The air was fresh and clean from the night rain. A meadowlark lit on the spire of a black marble mausoleum and sang its eternal song over the rows of silent monuments.

Weber stood for a long time, leaning on his cane, looking down at the two flat headstones, lying side by side. He looked up at the little puff clouds floating by and sighed. "Well Chas, you got her, you lost her, and now I know she's forgiven everything, so now you have her again." He looked down and sighed again. "And I had her, but I lost her, and she'll never be mine again." He smiled, a grim twist of his face. "And that squares everything."

Turning, he held the cane close to his leg as he walked swiftly away. He didn't look back.

End