Locomotive to the Past - George Schultz (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

“Yeah,” he replied—unleashing a gargantuan sigh. “Stupid… wasn’t it!” This was not a question! This was a definite statement!

“Who’d you make the bet with?”

“A guy who… this guy that… well, he hangs around the job. Hangs around… all the time. His name is… is Stackhouse. Hurley Stackhouse.”

“Holy damn! I’ve heard my father mention him! I don’t remember any of the particulars! But, listen! He’s bad medicine! I know it! Jason… I just know it!”

“Yeah. That’s what Eric said.”

“Why… why, in God’s name… would you not listen to Eric? He loves you!”

“Yeah,” he groused. “And Eric knows a helluva lot more… than I do.”

“He ought to. He’s old enough to be your father! Almost, anyway! And… in a way… he is your father! They both . . . the other day… talked about Susie! Her wanting you… to be a replacement! To be a stand-in… for their own son! Well, it became obvious to me… that the same also held true, for Eric!”

“I know,” he moped. “It only took me about seven-trillion times as long as it should have… to ever figure that out.”

“Well, if Mister Stackhouse reneges… then, you’re simply out the hundred dollars. I would imagine that… either way… you’re gonna be, out the hundred!”

“Yeah. I’ve finally figured that out! I can’t really afford the hundred.”

“Then, you shouldn’t have wagered it! Oh… look at me! Have my pastor’s hat on! Again!”

“No… you’re right! I shouldn’t have made the damn bet! I don’t know what I was thinking!”

“Jason! Why would you even consider it? Consider such a thing? The odds! The odds alone . . . they were prohibitive! I wouldn’t think that a smart guy like you would’ve… ! Oh, damn! Here I go again! Being your friendly neighborhood, hell-fire-and-brimstone, preacher!”

“Well, the Leafs did win the next three,” he muttered. “The series is tied. Whoever wins . . . tomorrow night… they win ‘The Cup’.”

“Yeah! That’s right! I didn’t think that that’s ever been done before! A team… any team… coming from being down, three-games-to-one… and then going ahead! And actually winning!”

There hung—what came to be known as a “pregnant pause”! Then—when the air was seeming to be getting so heavy that the beleaguered young man could not breathe—his intended asked:

“Jason… is there… do you know something? Know something… that the rest of us… that the rest of us don’t know?”

The question startled him!

“What?” he finally managed to murmur. “What are you talking about? How could I ‘know something’! Hell… I went and made the stupid damn bet… made it, about a week ago! How could I possibly ‘know something’?”

“All right! So you don’t ‘know something’! Don’t get yourself in a snit! It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“Just that… well, sometimes you do the strangest things! Do… and say . . . the damndest things! I really, y ‘know, don’t know all that much about you. It’s almost like… sometimes… almost like you have some sort of strange power, or something! Some overreaching power… or special knowledge . . . or something! It’s a little bit scary, sometimes!”

“Strange power? Special knowledge? That’s… why, that’s… well, it’s patently ridiculous! The whole thing . . . is totally out of this world!”

“Out of this world?” Valerie sighed—deeply. “I guess,” she muttered. “But, listen. Suppose Toronto wins, tomorrow night! Suppose you turn out to be right! Leave the wager . . . to the side! Suppose the Toronto team does come back… and wins! Like I said, I don’t think that it’s ever been done before! Pretty sure that… it’s never been done before! I can’t see you… cannot see you… betting! Betting… on such a ridiculous prospect! Such an all-but-impossible prospect! You’re really too smart, Jason! Way too smart! Too damn intelligent . . . to go betting, on such an ‘if-come’ thing! Unless… like I said… unless, you know something! Something… that the rest of us don’t know! Something that the rest of us… that we… we couldn’t know! Couldn’t possibly know!”

“That… that’s the most far-out thing I ever heard!”

“There! You see?” She was fuming, greatly, by then! “I’ve never heard anyone say that! Ever say ‘far-out’ . . . before! Ever!”

“Yeah. Well, they say it a lot . . . where I come from!”

“Yes, Jason!” Her voice had assumed an almost ethereal tone! One she’d never used before! It seemed to almost frighten her! To say nothing of him! “Where do you come from?” she pressed.

The confrontation—the first one, ever, between the “happy couple”—was rattling the both of them! He was struggling—frantically—for plausible excuses! She was mostly upset—by the direction, in which the “discussion” was taking! And by the degree of anger—a surprise (a shock, actually)—that she was feeling! Strange—unwieldy—emotions! For both of them! But, especially for her!

“Look,” he finally said—in as calming a tone, as he was able to muster. “We’ve never been like this, before! Never before! Let’s just… can’t we just…”

“Jason?” she interrupted. “Are you doing this… staging this whole thing… to postpone the wedding? Maybe even… to get out of it? Cancel the whole thing? Wipe it out… altogether?” (At last, she’d blundered onto the source—of her unexpected anger!)

“Stage it? Why the hell would I stage it? Stage anything? How could I stage something that… ?”

“Well… for one thing… this story, about your betting a hundred dollars! Wagering such an outrageous amount! On some kind of… of fairytale prospect! That’s not like you, Jason! Simply not like you! I know you well enough, by now! Or, at least, I think I do! And a wild-eyed bet like that… is completely foreign to you! Completely foreign!”

“Valerie! You can’t . . .”

“Listen! If you don’t want to marry me… then, just go ahead and say so!”

She began to strip her engagement ring, from her finger—a situation that set her fiancé into a full-panic!

“NO!” he half-shouted. “Please! Don’t do this! Don’t do that! Valerie! Valerie, PLEASE! I love you! Love you… more than life itself! Please! Please don’t! I beg you! Don’t!”

A chord—another heretofore-never-experienced chord—surged through her! Some element—in his deeply-felt, highly-emotional, plea “stopped her in her tracks”! She pushed the ring back down, to the base of her finger!

“Jason,” she beseeched, a tear trickling down each cheek, “just tell me! Tell