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

“Yeah. What’s a carton of cigarettes cost these days? Twenty-five bucks? Twenty-six? Thirty? I don’t smoke! Neither does Wanda! So, we wouldn’t know! And what’s a six-pack of beer? What’s that set you back? Hell, you’re right! The whole damn fifty’d be gone! Shot to hell! In no time! Just on beer . . . and butts!”

“I need money, Stan! I don’t need all your goddam put-downs! I’m… what am I gonna do?? Fucking starve?”

“Did it ever occur to you, to out and… GASP! . . . get a damn job? People do that, y’know! All the time! And they’ve gone on, to live normal . . . useful . . . lives! Difficult as that is for you, to believe!”

“Stan! Stanley… you know! Stan… I can’t work!”

“Bullshit! There’s all kinds of things… you can do! There’s a shit-load of stuff… that you can do! That you could do! Right from your apartment! You could . . . you can . . .”

“Bullshit right back at you! You need a goddam computer . . . for shit like that! You know that!”

“And Jason has one… although I don’t how he ever managed to snag one of those. Not on the pissy-assed little dab, of money… that you ever gave him! That you ever gave him… of his own damn money!”

“No he doesn’t. He’s never had a computer. Never has!”

“C’mon, Sheel! Don’t shit the troops! He was always talking about tracking this down… on E-Bay! Tracking that down… on E-Bay! You gotta have a damn computer . . . to do that!”

“He did all that, on the computer… at the coffee shop! And Manny was . . . I have to admit… pretty generous. In letting him fart around . . . with that thing. You gotta be on line, y’know. And those computers . . . being on line, and all… they can run up the damn telephone bill! So, Jason never had a…”

“Yeah, Sheel. Sure!. We all know… exactly how generous Manny is. A true saint! And… as we also know… you were always pretty… ah… generous, right back, to Manny! To say nothing . . . of Doctor Keltner!”

“STANLEY! That’s a lie! That’s a fucking lie! All . . . fucking lies!”

“Yeah, Sheel! Fucking lies! Look, I’ll tell you… tell what I’ll do! If you’re interested in getting off your dead ass . . . and actually doing something progressive, like, maybe, making a buck or two… I’ll get you a computer! It won’t be a brand spanking new . . . state of the art . . . thing! But, I’ll get you a ‘puter. And even set it up, for you… to where you can get on line! And even come up with a website . . . or two! Where you can work from home! After that, though… you’re on your own!” I’m not gonna give you any money, though! No money . . . to buy smokes, and beer! No coin of the realm!”

“Stan? Stanley… look! I can’t . . .”

“No! You look! If it turns out, that I can actually see that you’re trying… actually trying . . . to do something! Something… to further yourself… then, it’s a whole different thing! But, I’m up to here with you sitting on your clammy old ass, for all these years… and leeching off of everyone else. And… I got news for you. It ain’t gonna be me! Not any longer.”

“Aw, Stosh,” It was the first time that Wanda had broken into the rapidly-escalating exchange. “Give her a few bucks, for God’s sakes. You can’t be having your own sister . . . have her starving! And, fifty bucks… it really don’t go very far, these days! C’mon, Stosh! You can let her have a few bucks… if she’d promise not to spend it all, on crap! On cigs and beer.”

Stanley jammed his hand into his back pocket—and pulled out his wallet. He filched a twenty, a five, and three ones—and handed the money to his sister!

“But, this is it, Sheel! No more!” he snarled. “No fucking more! If you want a computer, I’ll getcha one! But, after that . . . you’re on your damn own! In fact, you’re on your own now! As of thirty seconds ago! That happened… when I gave you that money! Now, get the hell out of my sight! Let Wanda know… if you, for real, want a computer! And don’t ask for one… unless you’re ready to get off your freeloading ass! Get off your leeching ass… and use it!”

Sheila began to respond—but, decided against it. Blurting out a hoarse “Thank you”, she jammed the currency into her purse—and turned on her heel. She opened the door—and was gone! Faster—than she’d moved, in a long time! And with a good deal more agility!

Her brother watched her stampede—almost all the way down the front walk! It did not escape his notice that—four or five feet, before she’d reached the sidewalk—her “unfortunate” limp had returned! In spades!

Stanley reopened the door—and was about to ask her if she wanted a ride home! Till he spied her approaching—then getting into—the late-model Buick!

“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” he hissed. “I’ll be a goddam son of a bitch!”

At a little after nine o’clock that night, Manny stirred from one of a seemingly-endless series of dozes, while nestled in his overstuffed (and smelly) recliner chair. He’d been trying to watch some inane sitcom. But, without much success. Numerous times, he’d admonished himself—that he really ought to “turn off the damn set”, and climb into bed.

He sure didn’t need any visitors. But, that was, definitely, a rather-spirited knock, on the door! It had pulled him back, to the surface—from his latest adventure, into nodding off. Whoever it was, must’ve been there for a while! Or he/she was simply awfully impatient! The knock was very insistent!

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. “Who the hell could this be?”

Trundling over to the door—and opening it a mere crack—he was absolutely shocked! Virtually petrified—to see that his prospective guest was Sheila Rutkowski!

He’d tried to slam the door shut—but, found that his caller had quickly, expertly, shoved her foot in (the one on the ‘gimpy’ leg, even) blocking the way.

“Sheila! For Crissake! What did I tell