4 January 2017 Pilcrow & Dagger

Table of Contents

Short Stories

The Four Friends Escort Agency

By Jonathan Ferrini

Page..............................................................7

Doll

By Roger Schumacher

Page............................................................33

Do Over

By Scott Merrow

Page............................................................46

Nonfiction

What Never Happened with Ahmed

By Maryah Converse

Page............................................................17

Still Life

By Toti OBrien

Page............................................................42

Featured Artist

Elena Botts

Page............................................................40

34 January 2017 Pilcrow & Dagger

Roger Schumacher - Roger Schumacher’s early childhood was consumed by comic books, Creature Feature Presents, Star Trek, and Clint Eastwood

films. In 1980 he attended the School of Visual Arts earning a film degree

and then spent the rest of the 80’s and 90’s working on small film projects,

screenplays, and other AV projects. Roger has been working with prose since 2003 and has taken

some classes in order to better learn the craft. He is currently working as an Inventory Analyst.

Doll

The guitar strings bent in protest against

the emotional fingers working them. The

small club filled with sparse blues music

playing against the murky atmosphere of

discontent. Strained eyes moved from the

stage to all points of the room. That’s when

his beady ones found me.

My hand slid under my long coat

toward the thirty eight holstered at my

waist as the other one grasped

the glass containing my

drink. I’d seen his type

before; big, stocky, and

confident. I felt the sleaze of

his stare slide over me like

grease covering a well done

hamburger. I knew what he

wanted; sooner or later they all

ended up here looking for me.

I lowered my glass still tasting the sting of

the whiskey as he stood over me.

“Say Doll, you look lonely.”

He had no game, they never did. My eyes

rolled as I assessed his drab suit and cheap

haircut.

“That’s your best…” I said with a bit of

distain.

His slow smile revealed a row of yellow

stained teeth. I don’t think this dreg ever saw

the inside of dentist office in his life. “I got

the info you’ve been looking for.” He glanced

over his shoulder and then back at me. “After,

I’m sure we could find a much more exciting

way to spend the evening.”

I withdrew a slender cigarette from a

silver case lying next to my drink. Slowly, I

placed it between my burgundy painted lips.

“Hate to crush your dreams handsome, but

how about you get to the point.”

His smile faded but he came back on the

rebound with a lit cigarette lighter in my

direction. The flame touched the end of my

Paul Mall with a taste of fire as I took a

short puff.

“Come on Doll, loosen

up, we got time.”

“My time’s not for wastin’

slick. Business is business. So

are we doing any?”

My grip tensed around the

thirty eight ready for

anything.

He finally accepted defeat and stood

there with that wistful look they always get

when I crush ‘em like a cigarette butt in an

ashtray.

“Word around town,” his husky voice

cracked. “Finch took a hit on the docks

recently. He lost the latest stash of pretty

bobbles in the deep blue sea that came in from

the Ivory Coast. The other bosses are tired of

waitin’ to get the cut he promised.”

My exhaled smoke filtered out the image

of him standing in front of me. He looked

better to me now. My bored reply came

before the fog I put between us dissipated.

“That’s all you got for me?” I reached for

my whiskey glass disappointed.

http://www.pilcrowdagger.com/podcasts

www.pilcrowdagger.com 35

“Naw,” He took the opportunity to lean

in close to me. He lowered his mug mere

inches from my face as he whispered. “Talk

says Desmond put out the hit on Finch. Big

ticket item, it’s getting alotta action.”

My thirty eight came out pointing in his

direction from under the table. He’s in my

airspace and I don’t like it.

“You got two choices here, Chuck,” as in

ground chuck, I mused. “Either back off or

get a breath mint. I suggest you choose the

former if you figure on walking outta here.”

He got the message as the barrel of my

gun caught the light coming from the stage.

Another puff of smoke from my Paul Mall

filled his face as he backed up to the other

side of the small table.

“Okay, okay I get your meanin’.”

“So back to business,” I began enjoying

another drag of my cancer stick.

“Desmond got his man. Somebody

outside the network named Jack Cannigan.”

That name got my attention. Jack and I

go a long way back.

“What makes you think this is legit?”

“Cause Cannigan is already here in town.

And I don’t think he’s sight seein’.”

This clod wasn’t the sharpest knife in the

draw but my instincts say he’s talking true.

Cannigan wouldn’t be here unless he’s

workin’.

“Alright Chuck, you did okay,” I took out

a couple of saw bucks out from the money

clip attached under my blouse and slid them

over the table. His eyes lit up momentarily as

he got an eye full of my feminine assets.

I scowled at him with vindictive eyes tapping

my thirty eight against the edge of the table.

“Now get lost so I can enjoy the rest of this

set-” I said, indicating the trio playing on the

stage. “It’s why I come here in the first

place.”

Chuck slinked away, another

disappointed slug in an ever-growing line of

slugs. I started to wonder why I still keep

doing this. My cup runneth over with riff raff

and I am tired of it. Too many years in gin

joints like this one waiting for information.

The guitar player sang another refrain.

Something about a woman doing a man

wrong and then launched into another

raunchy solo. I smiled to myself and held up

my empty glass to the barkeep. He nodded in

my direction as I took another round of my

fading Paul Mall.

Yeah I’m tired but Jack Cannigan is in

town. I felt myself perk up with the thought.

We got a lot of history and looks like we’ll be

writing another page. I could feel the twinge

in my heart play against the glaring guitar.

“Okay Jack,” I said to myself as the full

glass of whiskey set down in front of me.

“We gonna dance again.”

***

The newly formed puddles held the dull

street light. The filth of this part of town

reflected up in a watery mirror. I dipped

behind the building as an oncoming car’s

headlights scrawled across the building’s

front. This is business tonight and I dressed

for it. Dark sweater and pants, I didn’t want to

be noticed.

I surveyed the empty street as a car

passed by. A bar on the neighboring corner

had a sign hanging over the door that read,

“Top Shelf.” I smiled slowly. My sources said

Finch pulled most of his resources back in

protection mode. That is where Finch held up

nowadays. He knew the hit had been put out.

Dipping back into the alley I turned and

saw two thugs. By the looks of ‘em they

worked for Finch on the cheap. I drew out a

Paul Mall from my silver case and waited on

them as they approached. The one with dark

eyes and small scar on his right cheek spoke

up.

“Hey Doll, you’re too fine to be in this

neighborhood.”

“I like to get around.” One look told me

all I needed to know. They had fun on their

minds. But I had plans.

“You could get around with us. We’d

keep an eye on ya.” The other one with a

patchy beard said.

36 January 2017 Pilcrow & Dagger

“Thanks, but no thanks boys. I got

business in this neck of the woods.”

The two exchanged glances, I could tell

their manners had run out.

“That’s not nice Doll, not nice at all.”

Without another word patchy beard

rushed me. He’s big but clumsy. As he

reached out I grabbed his arm and turned his

momentum against him. He spun passed me

and hit the brick wall face first. He then

crumbled to the ground like week old sheets

and didn’t move.

In a flash I saw someone move fast at the

far end of the alley. He ran quietly toward the

fire escape.

Scarface came at me next, swinging wild

at my head. I ducked below his roundhouse

and grabbed his other arm. Using the leverage

gained, I grabbed his slight frame by the

shoulders and flipped him over my hip and

into the small garbage dumpster parked

against the opposite wall. The lid crashed

down and closed on him as his body hit hard

inside. I looked again toward the end of the

alley and saw nothing.

Reaching the end of the alley, I saw that

the fire escape ladder had been pulled down.

Looking closely, I saw where gloved hands

touched the otherwise damp metal rungs. I

gazed up and saw the ladder rose up several

floors and into the dark night. I knew my

pigeon had come to roost.

Climbing up the fire escape, I tried not to

attract any attention. I followed my nose all

the way to the top of the roof. Intuition told

me he’s here and settin’ up for the hit. I had to

find him before the fireworks went down.

Arriving on the roof, I scanned the area.

The darkness lay thick like molasses but I

could make out the roof entrance at the far

end. A couple of chimneys stuck up in various

places with some clothes lines between them.

Various wardrobe rejects dangled on them by

wooden pins. I stood near the roof entrance

scrutinizing the area and saw nothing.

Remembering I still had the cigarette in my

mouth, I fished in my pants pocket for a

match.

Without warning a flame from a nearby

lighter appeared and touched the end of Paul

Mall. I took a puff realizing he’d gotten the

drop on me. His velvet voice touched my

ears.

“Hey Doll, long time no see.”

“Don’t call me that; they call me that.”

He pulled back, feeling the sting of my

words and the history behind them.

“Sorry,” He said as the flame from the

lighter went out.

I blew some smoke out into the air and

then looked deep into the baby blue eyes of

Jack Cannigan. My mind whirled with the

history between us. We’d been quite the pair

back then. I remembered the good times and

remembered the pain of goodbye. My eyes

washed over him standing there in silhouette

against the dull street light coming from

below. Though he didn’t say anything I could

feel his eyes on me as well. Some things

never change. Breaking the silence between

us, I spoke up with my best sounding tough

voice.

“Say my name if you want to talk to me.”

He slowly exhaled a cloud of breath caught

on the air.

“It’s been a long time; Jade.”

Letting the smoke from my cigarette get

between our gaze I felt the warmth coming

from him and smiled in spite of myself.

“That’s better.” Sounding more pleased

then I wanted to let on.

“So what are you doing here?” His voice

cut the mood like a hot knife through butter.

He’s in business mode. So there would be no

reminiscing.

“You’re in my town Jack. We had an

agreement, my turf here, yours out there.” I

pointed out to the stars that settled over the

city’s skyline.

He smiled but I could tell I hurt him with

my tone. Jack remembered the past too and

still thought about me as I did him. I could tell

he recalled the way we ended and how. From

this point on, the hearts and flowers would

have to wait for another time.

www.pilcrowdagger.com 37

“I did what you wanted, I stayed away,

Jade, but we both know that deal don’t hold

much water when it comes to doing what we

do. The price of coming back here was too

much to say ‘no’ to.”

He looked at me that way. The way he

used to back then. I felt my heart ache with

regret at the guilt of hurting him and turning

him away.

Suddenly a sound came from down on

the street. A splash through a puddle

confirmed footsteps running across the street

toward the Top Shelf bar. The barroom door

burst open and sharp voices carried up from

below. I figured the two goons I disposed of

rebounded and went looking for

reinforcements.

Our eyes broke contact as Jack’s head

turned at the sound. He sprung into action

quickly by sprinting toward the edge of the

roof. I followed him and saw his scope rifle

set up near its carrying case. It’s been a long

time since I’d seen Blackie, his favorite

weapon.

I got to the edge just after Jack. Looking

over I saw the light from inside the Top Shelf

spilling out onto the sidewalk outside. Three

goons had gathered outside. By the looks of

things, Patchy Beard filled the others in on the

events back in the alley.

It got really noisy then as more lights

came on in the building next to the bar.

Before we knew it, several forms came out

onto the street followed by an old jalopy that

came ripping out from a garage attached to

the building.

“Jigs up Jade, looks like you crashed the

party.” Jack looked at me with a smile. He

didn’t seem angry though I knew better. He’d

never balked a contract; until now. “Cost me

some dough Jade,” he stated as he packed

Blackie away inside the case with lightning

speed. Suddenly his free hand grabbed me

and brought me to him. My emotions flowed

out from me as our faces got up close. Before

his last words, he kissed me deeply on the

mouth. He drew back slowly after our

passionate kiss. “But it was worth it to see

you again.”

Then he released me and jumped over the

side of the roof. I stepped up to the edge just

in time to see his disappearing form slink

down another fire escape and in into the

darkness.

The goons from across the street made

their way toward my location. I cursed at

myself for letting my emotions get in the way

of business. The feelings I had vanished then.

I got into survival mode. I kicked the stupid

schoolgirl to the curb and sprinted down the

same fire escape I saw Jack use. Using my

skills and experience, I put some distance

between the gangsters and me and got out of

there.

History had won out in the end as I got

back behind the wheel of my own car wiping

the tear streaming down from my eye. I’m the

one that called it quits but I knew I never ever

got over him.

***

It’s been three weeks since I played spin

the bottle on the roof with Jack. A lot of blow

back has since gone down. Finch got wind

that he’d nearly been plucked by Jack

Cannigan. He’s since not only got out of

town, but out of the country as well. Word is

he’s hanging back in Italy with some family

hoping the Mafia don’t come calling.

Desmond’s furious over the hit gone

wrong. He’s since put out a contract on Jack.

But from what I know of Jack, I’m sure he’s

smiling. Who’d ever be stupid enough to

come after Cannigan always ended up on a

slab at the local morgue. Every hired gun has

left town vowing not to come back until Jack

got whacked or at least left town.

Me, I’m still thinkin’ about that night.

And the contract I took up with Desmond to

kill Jack Cannigan. I spent the nights since

sitting in that old blues bar drinking and

thinking about Jack. These days no one comes

looking to deal info. They know I’m workin’

now. It’s all business.

38 January 2017 Pilcrow & Dagger

Desmond’s network assures me Jack

ain’t left town. He’s hold up somewhere;

waiting. But I didn’t need a fortune teller for

that one. I knew how Jack thought. And knew

he’d know who’d be coming for him.

Downing the last of my whiskey, I pushed out

my Paul Mall into the ash tray. The time had

come to go to work.

I pulled my car into a small parking spot

on the street near the edge of town. I knew

this place well. It’s where Jack and I used to

call home. A small house on top of a hill,

green grass and flowers, it could have been

right out of some story book except for who

waited there for me and why.

Jack’s a sentimentalist, must have read

too many fairy tales as a kid. Though he’s a

ruthless killer, cunning and experienced, he’s

got a soft spot, one just big enough for me to

exploit. Getting out of the car, I carefully

crossed the street moving toward the small

house.

The air felt thick with heat as I got to the

edge of the walk. Looking up I saw a single

light on in the first story window of the small

house. He knew I’d be comin’ sooner or later.

I’d been preparing for this since that night on

the rooftop. I felt ready though the past came

busting down the door of business like a man

on a mission. For the first time in my life I

felt conflicted. He’d been the only man I ever

loved. The only one I ever let inside and yet

I’d come to kill him.

My hand pushed open the little white

picket fence door. It creaked slightly and

swung open fully letting in the visage of the

past. The memories of love and lust clouded

my judgment like the thick smoke of one of

my cigarettes. Stopping to gather myself I

knew I had to have my wits. Or I’d be dead

before I got to the front door. Coming up the

walk, I looked over the house watching for

some sign. But all’s quiet on the western

front. I drew out my thirty eight as I reached

the front door.

Inside the mailbox a dozen fresh white

lilies waited; my favorites. Inhaling their

sweet fragrance I noticed a card that stuck out

from the stems; I drew it out and read the note

written in Jack’s scrawl.

“I got some posies for you, a bouquet of

the past from an old flame.”

The smile forming on my face played

against everything I recognized. Even now,

the sap knew how to get to me. I left the lilies

in the mail box and turned the door handle.

The door slid open without protest and I

entered the house we called home so long

ago.

The foyer looked as I remembered it.

White walls with thin pillars set between the

living room and hallway. The stair case to the

left led upstairs to the bedroom. I grit my

teeth and steadied myself assessing my

situation. He could be anywhere, hell I could

be in Blackie’s crosshairs right now. But as I

entered the living room I saw Blackie lying

there neatly tucked away in his open case. At

least that possibility is off the table. Keeping

my back toward the wall, I focused on every

nook and cranny around me. But nothing

moved. No sound except a slight breeze

coming in through an open window.

Then I heard it. It rang like a shot in my

ears, the needle from the arm of the stereo

plopped down on a record. The scratchy

sound made me edgy as music filled the

house. A big band ballad from Benny and

boys came floating toward me from the

speakers. I remembered the song; our song.

Jack’s sentimentality coming through again, I

turned and saw him standing there with a

drink in one hand and a forty five in the other.

He wore his best suit. The blue one I’d picked

out for him.

Damn, he looked good.

“Evening Jade, been wondering when

you would be coming by.”

I reached in with my free hand and drew

out my cigarette case. Flipping it open, I

placed a Paul Mall between my lips and

looked at him from across the room with

soulful eyes.

“A lady takes her time. Say, you got a

light?”

www.pilcrowdagger.com 39

He smiled at me but kept that forty five

pointed in my direction.

“I’d like to oblige but don’t want a bullet

for my trouble.” He glanced at my thirty

eight.

“I see what you mean, but how’s about a

truce for now. We could be social before

business.”

He considered then nodded in my

direction.

“How about I take a step up and you

lower that hammer.” He said.

“When you lower yours and don’t get

any ideas. I got my eyes peeled”.

“No doubt,” he said and smiled at me.

He took up the lighter from the bar near

the stereo and stepped closer. I lowered my

weapon slightly; I could smell his cologne as

he approached. He reached out his hand with

the lighter. Standing still I waited my eyes on

him and his forty five. He brought the lighter

to life, its flame touching the end of my Paul

Mall. Drawing in the first drag of my

cigarette, I nodded toward him.

“Thanks for the light and flowers

handsome. But tonight I think its best we keep

a little distance between us. I can’t afford to

get sloppy.”

He backed up slowly after taking in a

whiff of my perfume. His smile faded

somewhat as he reluctantly gave ground and

went back toward the bar. I looked toward

Blackie’s case sitting on the table at the

opposite end of the room.

“Does Blackie have the night off?” I

cooed.

Without looking toward the weapon in

the case his reply tore deeply at my crumbling

resolve.

“Blackie works best from a distance. Like

no other before, tonight is up close and

personal. It requires a different approach.”

He poured himself a drink with his free

hand while keeping the forty five looming

toward me. “Would you like one?”

My lips felt parched from the ordeal. I

could use a drink but knew it could lead to

trouble. Still I couldn’t resist the temptation.

“You know how I like mine.”

He retrieved another glass from the bar and

poured the whiskey into it.

“Neat as always, Jade. Care to join me?”

I kept to the far end of the bar, away from

Jack. He then slid the glass of whiskey toward

me. I took up the glass before it came to a

stop. Putting down my cigarette in the ash

tray, I lifted my glass toward Jack as his came

toward me.

“To memories,” he said.

Our weapons remained trained on one

another as we drank down the contents of our

glasses.

“It doesn’t have to be this way Jade we

could still be together. We could stay here in

the house on the hill.”

The whiskey burned down my throat as I

smiled back at him, my heart doing battle

with my nerve.

“You know I can’t live the white picket

fence lifestyle. Jack and Jade on the hill,” I

laughed softly. “You got the wrong girl; I’m

not going to be the one tumbling after.”

“I know, I’ve always known but still

hoped…”

He couldn’t finish what he had to say

though I knew the words. The words we

shared every moment of our lives together.

Now those words would be our last together. I

couldn’t read his face then; darkness came

over him in the form of a mask I’d seen all

too often, the mask of business.

What happened next came in an instant.

Two gun shots rang out into the night. Two

blasts of death that blotted out Benny

Goodman and his Orchestra. The smoke from

our weapons made a fog that filled the living

room. It seemed to hang forever clouding the

truth from being seen. But the pain of reality

soon made itself known.

My eyes saw Jack lying face down on the

floor dead. The smoking forty five still

clutched in his hand. That told me where one

shot went. The other soon made itself known

as I looked down toward my midriff and saw

the blood draining out of me.

40 January 2017 Pilcrow & Dagger

The pain came next, then the blurred

vision. Things began to spin as I thought to

myself this is what it must be like to be on the

short end of the stick. I knew I’d never make

it back to the car. Never mind to a hospital.

Wavering I felt myself get light headed as

I collapsed on the floor near Jack. With the

last of my strength, I crawled over and lay

next to him on the floor. He still felt warm as

my arms hugged him tightly. My hand still

held my thirty eight. It didn’t seem so bad to

me, maybe Jack had been right all along. As

the light fell from me and my soul slipped

away into the darkness, I knew he’d be there

waiting for me and the house on the hill

would be there too.

Themes for 2017

January – The “Do-Over”

February/March – Armageddon

April – Dirty Little Secrets

May/June – Three Wishes

July – Conspiracy Theories

August/September – That’s Gonna Leave a

Mark

October – What Lies Beneath

November/December – The Box

*Themes are subject to change. Keep watch.

Australian & New Zealand March

Literary Festivals & Conferences

March 2-5, 2017 Dunedoo Bush Poetry

Festival

Dunedoo NSW

http://www.abpa.org.au/events.html

March 4-9, 2017 Adelaide Writers Week

Adelaide, SA.

http://www.adelaidefestival.com.au/

March 15-17, 2017 Somerset Celebration of

Literature

Gold Coast, QLD

http://www.somerset.qld.edu.au/celebratio

n-of-literature/

March 15-17, 2017 Rose Scott Women

Writers’ Festival

Sydney, NSW

http://www.rswwf.com.au/

March 16-19, 2017 Melbourne Art Book Fair

Melbourne, VIC

http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/whats-

on/programs-events/art-book-fair/

March 17-19, 2017 John O’Brien Festival

Narrandera, NSW

http://johnobrien.org.au/

March 25-26, 2017 Oz Comic-Con

Perth, WA

http://www.ozcomiccon.com/

March 26, 2017 Ipswich Poetry Feast

Ipswich, QLD

http://www.ipswichpoetryfeast.com.au/lau

nch.htm

March 29-April 1, 2017 Emergence Creative

Festival

Margaret River, WA

http://www.emergencecreative.com/home/

† Information gathered from

http://jasonnahrung.com/2016-australian-

literary-festival-calendar

http://www.abpa.org.au/events.htmlhttp://www.adelaidefestival.com.au/http://www.somerset.qld.edu.au/celebration-of-literature/http://www.somerset.qld.edu.au/celebration-of-literature/http://www.rswwf.com.au/http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/whats-on/programs-events/art-book-fair/http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/whats-on/programs-events/art-book-fair/http://johnobrien.org.au/http://www.ozcomiccon.com/http://www.ipswichpoetryfeast.com.au/launch.htmhttp://www.ipswichpoetryfeast.com.au/launch.htmhttp://www.emergencecreative.com/home/http://jasonnahrung.com/2016-australian-literary-festival-calendarhttp://jasonnahrung.com/2016-australian-literary-festival-calendar

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Produced by: A. Marie Silver

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