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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
http://www.pilcrowdagger.com/podcasts