dark night of vengeance, part 3: the smiling stranger

by horace p aternwall

illustrated by roy dismas

part three of four

for part two, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here

phil tried to pull himself together and asked if it mattered whether at this point if he lived or died he was almost at the end of his ride how much worse off had he been than other children of sin who had dreamed and loved and lost and on the scrap heap been tossed phil sucked in his gut if bill found him, so what? all bill could could do was kill him and his existence was already dim o so easy to say! but one more, one more day! one more day without a prayer - but on your skin the living air phil stopped and looked around silence was all he found the dark streets neither friendly nor cold had heard every story ever told his panic was suddenly gone it was almost dawn he had run through the streets for hours ignored by all cosmic powers on the corner was a little cafe with a sign - open all night and day phil went in and took a seat he was suddenly totally beat he ordered a cup of joe as the world around him spun slow and a slice of blueberry pie which tasted a little dry phil had totally given up staring into his coffee cup with a dull eternal shame when someone called his name who could it be ? he was lost but he was free though his guilt had been substantially accrued he could enjoy it in solitude phil turned and saw a face in which there was no trace of anything but good cheer brought on by oceans of whiskey and beer aren’t you phil, phil jones? asked the bum who used to play steel drums in a vacant lot behind kaiser park at night, when it got dark? that is not i, said phil smiling with a desperate will my name is neither phil nor jones and i walk the earth alone the bum responded with a shrug peace descended on his scarlet mug his response to phil was muffled as away into the night he shuffled phil was in a state of shock he felt like a pool in which a rock had been dropped from a great height as ripples expanded in the light of an exploding full moon phil’s brain played a screaming tune who was that stranger so affable with his implications so terrible? phil had been recognized he thought he had been so wise drifting faceless beneath the tide had he ever been able to hide? time goes by, phil told himself everything gets dust on a shelf the bitterest memories finally blow away in the breeze was bill still alive? and if he was did he thrive? had he forgotten emily brown? was he the mayor of his town? phil asked himself these things he knew the night would bring dark and twisted dreams unlit by moonlight beams part 4