As Honest As The
Day Is Short
by Kristina
England
Charlie Smith
liked to drink. But his wife, Sara, would never
have called him a drunk.
No, the man
could pack down the most beers she knew and still
keep a balance.
Sara even
encouraged Charlie to try for a Guinness World
Record. People got world records for the
strangest things these days. Like Leslie Tipton.
She proved she could pack herself in a suitcase
on the Regis and Kelly Show.
But Charlie
had his pride to think about. He didn’t want
to be listed next to Rolf Iven in some book.
“The man
walked on hot plates... so what? I could lay down
on hot plates with enough beer in me.”
Of course,
there was the matter of money. And Sara had
stated many times before that she had no interest
in working.
“Honey,
if you don’t get a better job, I may have to
leave you,” Sara said, jabbing him in the
side.
“Taxi
driver is a reputable and tough job.”
“I know,
but it doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Well, it
doesn’t pay the bills if you spend the check
on manicures and waxings.”
“A woman
needs to look good.”
“I have
to be honest... I don’t really think the
waxings are doing you justice. I mean the woman
waxes your eyebrows too thin. You keep going to
her and I’ll buy you a pencil so you can
draw them in.”
“That’s
not funny.”
Charlie smiled
and grabbed his car keys from the dining room
table.
“I’m
off.”
“Would
you at least think about the book?”
Charlie sighed.
He had in fact dreamt about the book. His name,
his face, making history. But what if he
didn’t make history? What if there was a
Charles Smith in Alaska who could drink him under
the table? Then what?
And there was
the matter of his liver. And the matter of Sara
not knowing about his liver. From what he had
learned about matter in high school, it was a
particle that had mass and volume. Life matters
weren’t as easy to grasp.
His liver was
matter. But it was also a sordid matter.
“Quite
honestly, I’m surprised you're still
standing,” the doctor had said with a
chuckle.
So he really
couldn’t do the book right now. When death
flashed before his eyes, he had done away with
beer. Of course, he loved his addictions so
instead he took up with Patty, a real spicy thing.
Now he was as dry as dust and as dirty as coal.
Dirty itself
took on different meanings with Patty. Just this
morning, while taking a shower, he could sense
another doctor’s visit in his future.
Charlie picked
up his coat and nodded.
“I’ll
give it some thought at the bar. In fact,
I’ll sleep it off at the bar.”
Sara rolled
her eyes.
“Of
course you will honey. And I’ll be here
painting my nails all night.”
“Sounds
like a lovely time,” he said and left.
Sara waited
for the headlights to disappear. Then she grabbed
her jacket and made for the door.
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