Mr. Maker: The Letter

I sat on the porch sipping room temperature scotch, praying for the willpower to go indoors for ice. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Morris opening my front gate, staggering towards me with all the chubby gracelessness of an injured manatee.

He lurched forward, gasping. "So this... is where... you're... squatting". He looked away, coughing into a handkerchief.

I watched him climb the steps of my porch and painfully arrange himself in a pile beside me.

"It wasn't east finding you", he wheezed, shoving the soiled handkerchief into his front right pocket and cleared his throat dramatically. "I had a particularly difficult time getting past your roommate."

"So you're my new stalker now." I said. It wasn't a question.

"I couldn't very well leave you to your own devices. Besides, since you last arrived I haven't... " he shifted a bit. "There's no one else to play chess with".

I smiled and leaned toward him a bit. "You're lonely", I sang.

"I'm bored", he replied. "But I supposed they amount to the same thing".

"Color me sympathetic", I grumbled, a bit more coolly than I intended.

He ignored me and held out an envelope. "I'll be expecting fair value in return".

I stared at him in disbelief. "Is this what I think it is?"

"I haven't read it", he said. The envelope fluttered in his hand. "But, looking at the return address, one can assume it's for you. And there's no use in pretending you're not curious, young man. It's written all over your face."

I hated when he called me "young man". Still, I took the letter with as much grace as I could muster, turning it over and over in hands and holding it up to the diminishing afternoon light.

"Oh hell, open it already!", he barked.

Grinning, I tore the letter open and read.

***********

He leaned against a brick wall thoughtfully chewing a cheeseburger. I stood across the street, letter in hand, blinking against the harsh late-winter sunlight.

"Well, son, what are you waiting for?" Morris said.

I looked up at him half hoping he’d give me an excuse to walk away. Morris only smiled and indicated toward the man across the street with his paw.

He’s waiting”, Morris said.

"Crap." I said.

I betrayed the slightest hint of a glance in his direction. He smiled wickedly, showing off globs half chewed burger. I pretended not to notice and crossed the street, desperate for something to say.

“Andrew”, he said.

I smiled meekly. “You got it”.

“I haven’t responded to a letter like yours in nearly 30 years”, he said.

“Oh”, I said.

“Most of them are beyond my ability to help”, he said.

“I see”, I said.

“Do you believe in God?”, he asked.

I was caught off guard. My mouth hung open and empty for what seemed like forever. “I don’t know”, I said finally. “I can’t say for sure. Why?”

He smiled again, sending a chill down my spine. “I’ve got to know what I’m working with, kid”.

I looked back across the road toward Morris who had paused midway into climbing into his truck. He gave me a look that read, “Are you ok?”

I waved and nodded back, making the sign for a phone. “Sure - I’ll call you when I’m ready”.

The man with the cheeseburger held out his hand. “You can call me Oscar”.

Something in the way he said it led me to believe that there was no way it was his real name. I shook his hand anyway and walked with him towards his car.