Parlay With the Devil

I met my friend Jed at a Gin Mill. The place was at the docks on the Brooklyn waterfront. The night was foggy, blanketing the ground most creepily. It felt like a scene in an old Universal horror movie, and I expected Boris Karloff to pop out of the next corner warehouse. A guy in a London fog raincoat was nearby with a dark fedora, and I amusingly thought it was Bela Lugosi with a hidden cape under there. And I would watch him use that crooked hand, staring with those deep black eyes. The heavy Hungarian accent seduces his victim for a blood withdrawal.

Jed walked into the saloon, looking nervous and sheepish. He sat down and ordered a triple Southern Comfort. I said, "That was my drink of choice as a teenager." Jed just looked at me and slammed it down, ordering another. Wow, I thought this guy was trying to get lit in two seconds flat. I added a little levity to the tense atmosphere that Jed had brought to the table. "You are the official Southern Comfort Slammer of South Brooklyn," adding a chuckle. But I got nothing but Jed whaling down triples as if his ship was going down to Davey Jones's locker. "You gotta tell me what's got your goat, my man!" 

Jed goes on to tell me the story of a lifetime. It is the most outrageous, spooky, frightening tale I have ever heard. I am from NYC and knew some of the craziest blokes ever. Jed spins a yarn of all yarns. "I met this guy in a business suit five years ago in this bar. 'He must like foggy waterfront taverns as they even have his brand of booze, a rare rum made only on some island in the Caribbean. 'I sat there as he ordered the rum, and the bartender said I do not carry that as I know every bottle of booze on my shelves. 'So, this guy says, look again and points to the location of the rum, and presto, as if it was conjured up right then." Jed continues."The guy started a conversation with me, and we got into a minor argument, and then he said I am Harry Shaitan. People call me Old Harry, sticking out his mit. We shook hands, and I could not figure out how I even got into a convo with this guy as if time stopped or he mesmerized me or something nutso."

"I began to tell him about my gambling issues. I told him how I stole from my dealership as the finance manager. I bilked thousands from the company to pay my debts. I took advantage of customers who spoke little English, stealing their deposits. They could not complain, which worked until too many people complained about missing deposits. I was up to my eyeballs in complaints and looking at a nickel in the state pen. I was down at this bar five years ago when I met Mr. Shaitan. When he saw my anguish, I wanted to run or put a bullet in my brain. I couldn't drink it away, but he saved me. "How did he do that, I inquired?" "He's a lawyer, and he got me off it. It was black magic or something because I was caught dead to rights. Not only did he get me off over a dozen felonies, but I went on a five-year winning streak!" "It's like you signed a deal with the devil himself!" Jed chimed in quickly. "Yes, I did!" "What do you mean you did?" "That's why I am here tonight! It is payup time!"  

I asked Jed, still in total disbelief. "You freaking signed a deal with the dirty Diablo, the bastard Belsabub, the maniac of all maniacs, Mephistopheles, the sacrificing, sick SOB -Satan himself?" Jed looked at me with the saddest eyes, the eyes of a man convicted- facing his executioner, and just said."YES!" But that yes conveyed many emotions, and that one word was as powerful as any three-letter word can bring. Jed went on to tell me what happened over the last five years.

Jed told me he couldn't hit two-in-a-row picking games if his life depended on it before he met Mr. Shaitan. "Do you know Shaitan in Islam means Satan?" "No, I did not make that connection," I replied. "I was one and done at best. Most of the time, I lost and chased all week, making all betting matters worse, but when I signed on with Old Harry - another name for the devil, by the way. I hit parlays, reverses, and middles. It was amazing! 'One game stands out: I put two thousand on the Spurs, laying 7 1/2. I took the Knicks getting 8 1/2 in another office. I needed the Spurs to win by eight, and I win on both sides. It looked like it would be a wash as the Knicks were up three, but the Spurs tied it on a last-second half-court three-pointer, sending it to overtime. The Spurs ran away from the Knicks, winning by eight in OT, and I hit both sides for an astounding four dimes. The worst that could have happened was I would split the two games and lose two hundred in juice, but I signed a deal with Superific Satan and won both bets, hitting a hard middle."

"After three years of winning and drug and alcohol use, I began to tire of how I lived. Do you know one can tire of just winning, which sounds ludicrous? I began to tire of nothing but winning as it became old hat. I went to a gamblers anonymous meeting and started turning my life around with the 12 steps. I turned my life over to God and tried a new way of life for the first time. I saw that my life was immersed in total and complete addiction. I did everything obsessively and compulsively, which became very tiresome mentally, physically, and spiritually. I started my life of recovery and have been abstinent from drugs, gambling, and booze until today - my meeting with Mr. Shaitan. I am so scared of paying the highest price a man can deliver, which is my ever-loving soul! I have until three a.m. to pay for my deal. I was so low when I made that deal that I chose getting out of trouble with the law and a few years of making easy money for my eternal soul. For the last two years, it has haunted me and kept me up nights thinking of this day."

I interjected. "Well, maybe God will send somebody to fight off this devil of hell because you have turned your life around. Perhaps an Angel of God will come down to earth and kick some devil's ass! 'Turning your life around and over to God was your recipe for winning the battle with Satan himself. I mean, most of the battles are fought behind the scenes. You know, spiritual warfare, but this fight is in the flesh, and God has to send his armor to protect you, or else it all be a bunch of hokum." Jed was not seeing a win here tonight. This is the biggest game of Jed's life, and he is not sure his new team will show up. He turned his life over to God two years ago not to get out of this night, but Jed was sick and tired of his old ways. He was ill of sinning every waking hour and just had enough.

The witching hour has passed without a sign of someone from God's team. It was now nearing the so-called devil's hour, 3 a.m. The clock was showing 2:45, and Jed and my hopes were being tested. His much more than mine as he is supposed to pay the proverbial piper. In walked Mr. Shaitan, who sauntered up to the bar like an evil James Dean. He ordered that rum drink and had a smug look of victory. Jed seemed drunk at this point, but the fear was overriding his drunkenness, which is understandable. At 2:55, a guy walked in with the air and confidence not seen very much anywhere. He looked like he was from another century but a bit modernized. He had shoulder-length hair and a great build of an athlete. He looked like he could enter a decathlon and win it without breaking a sweat. At exactly 2:00 a.m., the unknown guy walked up to Mr. Shaitan and whispered something to him, and Mr. Shaitan shook his head adamantly. Then the two began fighting, but it was so fast it was too hard to see what was going on. In a few seconds, the long-haired guy had Mr. Shaitan in a headlock, then he whipped him to the ground and stepped on his head. He kept his foot on his head for quite a while, and after a minute or so, Mr. Shaitan yelled, "OK, you can have him; he's yours!"

The victor walked over to Jed and put out his hand. "I am Michael, the Arch Angel of Heaven. Glad to meet you, Jed." He continued speaking to Jed. "I am so pleased you are on the winning team! We protect our own Jed. And you have righted the worst wrong a person can by selling your infinite soul, but you did not stay on that path but got off onto the righteous road where you are now. I just had a final cleanup to ensure you got your soul back. Now, stay on the narrow path, for the road to temptation is broad and easy to get on, but you have the armor of God now and forever." Jed and I hugged and walked out of that foggy Gin Joint, not looking back arm in arm, feeling like conquering heroes.