Debt-ends

“The dwarfs can turn lead into gold… 

(…)

‘You can’t turn something into something else,’ said Corporal Nobbs. ‘The Alchemists have been trying it for years.’

‘They can gen’rally turn a house into a hole in the ground,’ said Sergeant Colon.

‘That’s what I’m talking about,’ said Corporal Nobbs.” (”The Truth”, Terry Pratchett)

***

Neal suffered from severe neurosis for several years ever since his father had been mugged and beaten to death by some complete strangers. Yet in his mind maybe for a couple of last months everything seemed okayish. The point is, each evening he embarked on a journey to save people from their past, he got disappointed in reality. Reality did not help. But somehow he managed to save everyone. Including himself. And there was a happy ending, too. He would become free in a way. Cause he would go a-way.

The other time Neal wrote some observations on a single piece of paper:

“The world was saved. Saved as can be. Be it this day or some other. 

Other words will not apply here. Here comes the Saviour. 

Saviour is dressed up as a mature, nearly eighty years old man. Man, does old wine taste best.

Best not to forget that the job of the saviour is to keep up the good work and establish peace.

Peace is very important, especially in the course of drinking red wine, the beverage of Greek gods. Gods won’t help, it is the Saviour who will. Will is not his name. 

Name tells something about a person even if it seems to lack any undercurrent of logic. Logic is a concept that is not foreign to the Saviour who knows what’s good and how to make people laugh at their problems. 

Problems…”

The problem was that to violate the rule governing his rather strange utterance he needed to compromise on his integrity. He didn’t like that. “But let’s play this game.” He thought. 

Narrated by Life itself on the New Years Eve… 

“Okay, so you’ve got to understand one thing. There’s no going back.” Neal Fals said upon his entrance to where his client was seated by the window.

With the expressionless face, the man who introduced his business’ name: NewLife a moment after, took a cigarette out of beautifully crafted wooden box with a big, carved inscription that read “MADE IN CHINA”. 

“Everybody knows me… Do you mind if I smoke?”

The other man shook his head, and then added to confirm he has no objection to that:

“No.”

“Everybody, in town at least, knows me but they don’t know what I do for a living. See what I’m getting at?” Neal said while he lit the cigarette.

“No.” Responded again the interlocutor.

“I’m helping people. Truth is I helped more than four dozen, and this is not an easy job, mind you.”

“I don’t have much money.” Said the client, fidgeting with his hands. 

“Well. That is why we meet, isn’t it?” Responded Neal calmly to build some trust in the man. “So, let’s leave aside the money thing, I’ve heard you’ve got a problem lately?”

“That’s not a problem. A problem would be welcome, sir. This is all about my family.”

“You don’t want to be a part of your family?”

“No. My job gets in the way.”

“What job?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Don’t be silly. If you’re about to be my client, you have to tell me everything. It’s necessary for this operation to work.”

“They will have me killed if I tell you.” The man lowered his voice and leaned.

“Who’s they?” Neal didn’t hide his surprise, it was the first time somebody told him such a thing and he dealt with many cases that involved pretty drastic measures that called for violence on his part.

“They are they. Now, promise me my family won’t suffer or I go and find some other moving company.”

“There are no other moving companies in our district.”

“How so?”

“Haven’t we already established I specialise in disappearances?”

“Okay, so you got rid of the competition. Somehow. How does that exactly help me?”

“I’m the best. I’m the right person. Believe me.” Neal pointed to his chest.

“You don’t listen.”

“No, you don’t listen. Want freedom? Want safety? Then listen.”

“Okay, listen, I’m tired. Tell me the options.”

“Good boy. The way I see it, the options are: we take care of your supposed ‘disappearance’ or we take care of their real disappearance.”

“You don’t seem to be aware that they are too powerful. It’s the whole organisation. They are not to be messed with so easily.”

“Says who?”

“Sound reason.”

“I don’t reason.”

“I can tell.”

“Stalemate?” Neal smiled, but the man did not reciprocate.

“It is a matter of my family’s well-being.”

“I know.”

“You think we’ll go out and shoot those guys one by one straight in the face with some bloody Walther PPK like we are some bloody James Bond?”

“No, the thing is I am a certified magician.”

“So what?” The man could not help but laugh (quite hysterically).

“So I specialise in the illusion.”

“And you can create an illusion of their disappearance, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“I’m completely serious about that.”

“I think you owe me some apology.”

“For what?”

“For taking my time.” Said the client suddenly standing up.

A couple of seconds passed when the man started again:

“I don’t have much time, you know… I have cancer. The last thing I want after my death is this organisation’s retaliation on my family.”

“There won’t be any.”

“How you’re so sure?”

“You have some debt?”

“Yeah. I have some debt. That I’ll pay for with blood. Cause I’m broke. But I’m willing to do that. I thought you could help, hide my family somewhere safe. But apparently I was wrong.”

“That may be problematic.”

“You don’t say. Why so many people recommend you as the go-to guy? You don’t know shit about anything.”

“I can’t give you any references cause most of the people I worked with disappeared for good and even I don’t know their current whereabouts.”

“That’s so dramatic. One final question: how do you pull off that illusion stuff?”

“I just take out the white rabbit of my hat and say to the people that want to vanish: follow the rabbit.”

“Interesting. How about I do this trick on you? I wonder what would happen…

“I would go away.”

“You would?”

“Yes! Yes! I would evaporate like thin ice on the river, on the sunny day in wintertime.”

Neal Fals started to laugh so hard, his false teeth almost fell out. He was old but he was still living with his mother. He was 79, she 97. A nice reversal of numbers as he observed one day not so long ago.

“Neal! Would you please stop talking to yourself so loud? It’s well past midnight. Also come out of the bathroom. I know you like to dress up in front of a mirror but for the love of God, stop it now. Enough is enough!”

The elderly lady and Neal met halfway between the bathroom and the corridor downstairs.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been saving people from their past again…”

“I had to. This guy was in debt.”

“It’s very cryptic.”

“No. It’s true. He needed that rabbit more than anything else.”

“Let me check if you’ve got a fever.” The lady touched her son’s forehead with a gentle, slow motion. 

“I’m okay, mother.”

“Is it about your father again?”

Silence.

“You needn’t save the world, dear. Cause the world will always find a way to turn itself into a hole.”

Neal Fals smiled faintly at the last remark. It was their running joke. The joke Terry Pratchett used in his book. The book Neal got from his father. Back in the days when he was young. When everyone was still young. When nobody was in debt-ends.