The intercom crackled to life, and Laura’s voice floated over it.
“Mrs. Grieves is here, Mr. Tannenbaum,” she said.
Edgar reached over to his nightstand and pushed the intercom button.
“Send her up,” he grunted.
He was at the end of his life, but that was fine. He had many regrets, many regrets, but his largest was about to be vindicated, to be passed on before he passed on, and that was all that mattered.
The door to his spacious bedroom opened a couple of minutes later, and a young woman in her mid-twenties was ushered inside by his nurse and personal attendant, Laura.
“Leave us, Laura,” said Edgar.
“Yes, Mr. Tannenbaum,” said Laura.
His attendant then closed the large dark-wood door to this old-house’s pillowed tomb of a master bedroom, and then Laura was on her way back downstairs, leaving him alone with his new guest.
“You Mrs. Grieves, huh?” he asked.
“Ms. Grieves, actually,” stated the young woman.
Edgar took a moment to study the young lady who had come to rid him of his personal curse.
This young white woman was in her mid-twenties, brown hair, all dressed in black, black vest, black button up, black business skirt, black shoes…The only thing that wasn’t black was her tan pantyhose, but that was to be expected from one of these “professional” women of the modern age.
She was cute in the face…round cheeks, button nose, short, curly brown hair, oak-brown eyes…though Edgar was long past the age of sizing up women. He was way too old for that.
Nevertheless, she reminded him of someone, someone dear to him who had long since disappeared from his life, and that someone was a painful story to be told, but he would tell it when the time was right.
He was thinking of that painful memory, but he spoke the first thing that came to his mind anyway, unrelated as that thing happened to be.
“You dressed all in black?” he asked without thinking. “In this summah heat?”
“Oh,” replied Ms. Grieves. “I am…in mourning. My mother passed away last week.”
“Sorry to hear that,” said Edgar.
“She died from complications from a very old injury that made it difficult for her to walk,” said the young woman. “That’s what the doctors said anyway. Personally, I believe she died from a broken heart, but that’s…an old wound…It doesn’t matter. You, Mr. Tannenbaum, of course, should know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” nodded Edgar. “You come fo’ the coin. You come here to take that cursed thing away and give it to the museum.”
“That’s correct,” nodded Ms. Grieves.
“Good,” frowned Edgar. “’Bout time I find a way to get rid a it where it cause no more trouble…but I ’spect you come here to Hamelin fo’ more than just that. I ’spect you wanna hear the story behind it all.”
The young lady sucked in her breath in visible surprise, put forth a weak smile, and then nodded twice.
“I am curious as to what happened twenty-seven years ago,” she replied. “Personally, I didn’t think I’d find any answers here…err…about the history of the coin, that is.”
“Well…let me tell you ’bout it,” said Edgar. “But first…you unmarried, Ms. Grieves?”
“Call me Cadence,” said the young woman. “And yes…I’m not married.”
“Cadence, huh?” snorted Edgar. “Fitting…Fitting an unmarried woman name ‘Cadence’ come to get the coin.”
“How so?” asked Ms. Grieves, this “Cadence.”
“Let me tell you ’bout unmarried women,” frowned Edgar. “I know all ’bout that.”
“Do tell,” said Cadence.
“It all started twenty-seven years ago, like you said, so you done yo’ homework,” said Edgar. “It was the summah of 1953. I had just turned fifty, and I was the duly-elected mayor here in Hamelin. Now here I am a shell a that proud man, dying in this here bed from pancreatic cancer…It don’t matter none, though…I believe…I believe it’s what I deserve…
“Anyway…Anyway, it was the summah of 1953, and it was a hot summah, but not humid, not like it normally was…
“First though, let me tell you ’bout some of the ‘unmarried’ women that lived here in Hamelin…and I promise you…it’s relevant, though it don’t seem like it.”
“Go on,” nodded Cadence.
*****
Shelly licked her vanilla ice cream from the cone as the other girls walked beside her.
All four of them were headed down the walk toward the local Dalber’s to gander the clothes there. They had briefly stopped at Corman’s Pharmacy to pick up some cones, now that the summer heat was in full swing, but they were currently in the mood for some window shopping.
There were other people about on the streets of Hamelin today, but they were focused on whatever business they were caught up in.
No, Shelly and her friends were simply enjoying the fruits of their hard labor, rewards well-earned, now that they had finished their last year of high school.
“We did it girls!” said Melanie in audible excitement. “We graduated, and now we officially set free!…Have y’all decided what yo’re gonna do? I’m gonna get a job down at the paper. I know I can type faster than any a those rubes can. I can be a secretary fo’ Mr. Winnipeg. He already said he interested. He seen what I can do. Momma took me down to the paper three days ago, and I impressed him.”
“I don’t care fo’ that,” said Trisha. “I’m going off to the teacher’s college. My daddy’s been saving money fo’ as long as I can remember. What about you, Bernie?”
“I wanna do somethin’ with cars,” grinned Bernice. “Highschool was such a drag, but Lonnie’s been showin’ me how they do things in the big city, racing fo’ pinks…You know…a real drag.”
“That’s not a career,” frowned Trisha. “You need to think a the future, or you go’n have to settle down.”
“I ’spect,” shrugged Bernice. “I can always type like Mel. I can be a secretary too…Plenty a work fo’ that in the big city…Hmm…But enough ’bout me. What about you, Shell? Whatchyou gonna do now that we out?”
Shelly turned and gave the other girls a sly grin.
“I got my eye on Jason Kinsey,” she said with the utmost confidence. “I’m go’n get that boy and make him mine…He gonna start working at his daddy’s factory. That there is a real good catch. He go’n inherit the factory, and I aim to give him a couple a kids to inherit it from him.”
“Oooooo!” drawled out the other three girls.
They all giggled at Shelly’s forthrightness, and Shelly joined in with them, but her plans were no joke…She most certainly had meant what she had said.
*****
“Now I ’member those four girls, ’cause my Mary Anne knew them from church,” explained Edgar. “They were a good bunch, all of ’em eighteen and a little bold fo’ their age, but they not nearly as bad as Mary O’Reilly, Susan Brown, and Linda Crenshaw, but I’ll get to those three Jezebels in good time. First, tho’, let me tell you ’bout Tammy Harlowe, one of our librarians at the time. You modern women all about them minorities and their rights, so I tell you ’bout Tammy Harlowe and Pearlean Washington. I think you find that int’restin’.”
“Go ahead,” replied Cadence.
There was a shine in her eyes that was impossible to ignore. Edgar could tell she was hooked, so he continued on with his tale, though that story was going to dredge up old and painful memories. Even so, this story had to be told, or he was never going to be at peace.
*****
Tammy adjusted her glasses and pushed aside a long strand of curly black hair as she sorted through a stack of books at the counter. Her dutiful attention, however, was taken by a loud and angry shout followed by a high-pitched shriek from across the lobby.
Pearlean came running out of the furthest aisle, Mr. Merrick right behind him, the middle-aged balding man furious to beat the band. He swatted the young black woman a couple of times with a rolled-up newspaper as the girl shrieked in fear, chasing her toward the entrance and exit to the Hamelin library.
“If I told you once, I told you a million times, you ain’t allowed in here!” roared the older man. “This ain’t no negro library! Now you get yo’ colored butt gone!”
Tammy dropped what she was doing and rushed for the doors, though Pearlean beat her to them. Pearlean opened the doors and immediately bolted down the walk, and Tammy was roughly shoved aside as Mr. Merrick stepped out to shout at the fleeing girl.
“You step foot in here again, and I’ll call the police!” he yelled.
Tammy’s boss was not a forgiving man, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to smooth things over.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Merrick,” she apologized. “I didn’t know she was in here. I must a missed her.”
“Well, you better get on the ball, missy,” huffed the red-faced older man. “We don’t allow no coloreds in here, and we ain’t gonna allow no coloreds in here!…This here is a respectable place a learnin’, and I aim to keep it that way.”
“Yes, Mr. Merrick,” said Tammy.
“I don’t want to see that devil-smoking cotton picker in my library again!” cursed Mr. Merrick. “Now, if you don’t get yo’ eyes fixed on the prize, I will find another young lady who can…Am I clear?”
“Y…Yes, Mr. Merrick,” stammered Tammy.
“Good,” nodded the older man. “Now you just get on back to work…We gots to maintain some order ’round here.”
“Yes, Mr. Merrick,” replied Tammy.
She watched him walk off toward the front office and then shook her head in disgust, but there was nothing she could do about it. The situation was what it was.
Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t something she could do.
She walked back to the front desk, knelt down, and removed two books she had stashed on a lower cabinet shelf. These two novels had just come in, and their recipient had been eagerly awaiting them for a couple of weeks now.
She took off toward the back of the library, trotting through aisles while skirting past numerous shelves, and then she walked up to the back door, the heavy, metal, fire-escape door. She pressed down upon its wide metal bar-handle and pushed it open.
There she was, Pearlean, waiting as they had planned, though the young black woman was visibly upset, tears still wetting her dark cheeks.
“I am so sorry about that, Pearly,” said Tammy unhappily. “I didn’t know he was here today…You…You do know I have to pretend when he starts yellin’, right? If he finds out I let you in, I’ll get fired, and then you’ll never get to read anything.”
“I know, Ms. Harlowe,” nodded Pearlean. “It just don’t make no sense why I can’t just check out books like everyone else.”
“I know, I know,” frowned Tammy. “I think that’ll change one day. You just have to have a little faith.”
“I sho’ hope it does,” sniffed Pearlean as she wiped her cheeks free of tears.
“Well, those two books you wanted came in,” smiled Tammy. “Now, I already know you take good care of anything I give you, so you just bring them to me once yo’re done.”
She handed over the reading material, and Pearlean eagerly accepted them.
“I sho’ am grateful, Ms. Harlowe,” smiled Pearlean. “You sho’ are nice…What I don’t understand is why you don’t have a man yet. You almost thirty, and you a looker. I’d think you’d have a caller by now.”
Tammy turned a slight red upon receiving that uncomfortable truth, so it was best to answer this kind of observation with an observation of her own.
“Well, I could say the same about you, Pearly,” she replied.
“Oh, Abraham Jefferson is interested, but I ain’t ready fo’ that,” said Pearlean. “I still wanna read and learn. I don’t know how much time I’d have fo’ that while lookin’ after some kids a my own.”
“Believe it or not, I understand where yo’re coming from,” frowned Tammy. “I think we both have the same problem. Mine’s just been going on fo’ longer.”
*****
“Now I’d known Tammy Harlowe fo’ a long time,” said Edgar. “Everyone did. She was the town of Hamelin’s little librarian jewel. A gorgeous young lady with long, curly black hair and hazel eyes, an hourglass of a woman, but she tweren’t fit fo’ marriage…Naw, she was no marriage material…Too wrapped up in her books. As fo’ Pearlean…well…I’d been getting’ complaints ’bout her from ol’ Merrick fo’ I don’t know how long.”
“Okay,” replied Cadence, a curious look in her eyes. “But what does this have to do with the coin?…Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Tannenbaum, I actually find this story fascinating, but I was just wondering—”
“About the coin?” asked Edgar. “Well, I’m getting to that. It all ties in, I swear…but first I need to tell you ’bout those three Jezebels, Linda Crenshaw, Susan Brown, and Mary O’Reilly. Mary was the redhead, Linda the blonde, and Susan was well known because a that short black hair a hers, cut almost like a boy’s. They all worked as telephone operators in the big city, but they lived here in Hamelin, so they commuted everyday…
“Now, you got ta understand women at the time. All the ladies in Hamelin, every one a ’em, wear dresses, ’cause it tweren’t respectable fo’ a lady to wear anything but a dress, not like today, naw. In today’s world, you see these girls in blue jeans and other, traditional, workin’-man’s wear.
“Anyway, these three ladies, Linda and Mary and Susan, they always hangin’ ’bout the Dalber’s in town, pickin’ out dresses and other things they like to spend their money on…
“Those girls, tho’…All in their mid-twenties and full a hormones…Now those three twittering robins was a handful…”
*****
Linda ran her hands over a fine-looking red print dress with golden-flowers speckled all over it.
They were inside Dalber’s wasting time, because other than chasing the boys, this was what they did on their days off.
“This is a good-lookin’ one,” she said.
“You just got yo’ eye on Timothy, don’tchyou?” grinned Susan. “You want to show him yo’ baked bread.”
“Hell, yes!” grinned Linda in return. “Can’t wait to check out what he has on sale in the meat department. I’m lookin’ fo’ some long summah sausage, shugah.”
The three young ladies tittered over this bit of crude humor.
“Well, I’ll tell you what!” giggled Mary. “There’s talk of a new magazine comin’ out that’s all pictures a…a ne’ked girls, attractive young ladies like us…Nudie pictures, you know?…I’m thinkin’ I’d like to pose in that. I’d have men knockin’ down my door.”
“They ain’t the kind a men you want, stupid,” grinned Linda.
“Well, I don’t know ’bout that,” chuckled Susan. “If I’m gonna have all the boys starin’ at my birthday suit and judging my melons at the county fair, then I’m go’n steal old Farmer Hesch’s horse when he come to town, and then I’m gonna ride around like Lady Godiva!”
Linda guffawed at that absurd picture, and then all three of them were laughing, quite obnoxiously, right in the women’s-clothing section of Dalber’s.
They stopped laughing, of course, at the immediate notice of Mrs. Glassford, the old woman standing nearby, her wrinkled face aghast. The trio of young ladies and the elderly woman stared at each other for a few seconds before Mrs. Glassford finally spoke in response to the girls’ socially-offensive conversation, but what she said was only antagonizing.
“Why, I never!” gasped the elderly woman. “You girls should be ashamed!”
This, of course, sparked immediate retaliation, and Susan, being the boldest of them, spoke first.
“Oh, blow your own horn somewhere else, you wrinkled windbag!” she chided.
“Yeah, go downwind, you old hag!” taunted Mary. “I can smell a stinker from here!”
“Eeeeavesdroppah!” accused Linda. “Like you didn’t lift yo’ skirt fo’ a pair of shined shoes!”
If old Mrs. Glassford’s mouth had dropped any lower, it would have hit the floor.
“I’m go’n have a word with management!” said the old woman in rising anger. “You never shop here again; I’ll see to that! Yo’ mommas should a held y’all down and washed out yo’ mouths with soap!”
“Get out a here!” waved off Susan. “You couldn’t fit into any a these dresses anyway, you ol’ sow pig!”
The old woman let out a resounding “Ah!” of pure, offended, flabbergasted, liquid rage, and then she stormed off, presumedly to go find Mr. Dalber, the owner of the fine clothing store they were all in.
“Come on, girls,” frowned Linda. “If we goin’ ta get anything, we’d better get it now, and we’d better get our stories straight. That old bat’s goin’ to cause us nothin’ but trouble.”
“What a hag,” scowled Susan.
*****
“I was already well familiar with those three,” said Edgar. “They was troublemakers, but that trouble was mainly at the mouth, so it wasn’t like Sherrif Burke could do anything about ’em. Now, had they been shopliftin’, that’d been one thing, but naw…they was just mouthy…and loose. Loose as a Christmas goose…Everybody knew what they was up to on any given Saturday.”
“Uh…huh,” said Cadence quietly. “Well…what about the coin, Mr. Tannenbaum?”
“I was gettin’ to that,” explained Edgar. “You see, I got that coin during the war. We was in Germany, and my buddy, Ray, he find it there, there in a small German village.
“He had the bad habit, you see, of taking things from people’s houses, things that tweren’t his. But from the very second he took that coin, he got antsy, real jittery, so he gave it to me, and he said, and I quote: ‘I don’t like the look a it.’
“But it was just a gold coin, and I didn’t see no disadvantage out a keeping a gold coin. It had to be worth a lot, but unlike Ray, I liked the look a it, so I kept it. It was like a…a ‘good luck charm’ fo’ me. Things started goin’ my way after that. The war ended, and my life picked up, picked up like it had never really begun before.
“You see, I think the coin chose me. I think the coin chose me ’cause I was from here, from Hamelin, and I think that coin was destined to find its way back to a Hamelin, any Hamelin; don’t matter where it is. Now, Ray…Ray was from Mobile, so the coin didn’t want nothin’ to do with him, and that’s why I got it.”
“You think this coin is magical?” asked Cadence. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Not magical,” said Edgar unhappily. “No, no. Cursed. That coin ain’t nothing but trouble.”
“How so?” asked Cadence. “Explain it to me.”
“You see, after I come back to Hamelin and got elected mayor, that’s when the trouble started,” said Edgar. “That’s when the Rats came to town.”
“The rats?” asked Cadence. “You mean to tell me that rats came here to Hamelin just like in the fairy tale?”
“Oh, they wasn’t vermin,” said Edgar with a shake of his head. “Well, they was, but they was the two-legged kind. You see, the Rats was a biker gang…a bunch a…a ne’er-do-wells that ran drugs and robbed and raped and murdered whenever they felt like it…They was holed up in Mitzy’s Motel just outside a town…That motel long gone now…but let me continue…Let’s see here…
“These jackasses would swarm The Fishin’ Hole every night. Now, The Fishin’ Hole was O’Reilly’s bar. If you remember right, Mary O’Reilly was one of them three Jezebels, and she was Sean O’Reilly’s eldest, but he also had two younger sons. In fact, he had those boys working the tables after the Rats came in.
“You see, sometimes Mary would help out after she come home from operatin’ in the big city, but Sean didn’t dare send her in there with those thugs…No, he wasn’t about to do that…
“We was in trouble then, let me tell you. The sheriff and his deputies, all of ’em together, weren’t enough to take on those scum…No, no…No, they—the Rats, that is—they was uncontrollable, and we wanted to shoot the lot of ’em, drag their carcasses out to the buzzards, ’specially fo’ what they did to that young couple who was just passing through…No, no…We was in trouble…The Rats had come to town.”
*****
Grendel took a long drag from his cigarette and watched with mild interest the scene set before him.
Cooper held the college boy’s arms behind his back while Holmes beat the crap out of the kid. The boy’s face was already mush, so he wasn’t putting up a fight. It was the kid’s girl and her inane shrieking that was ticking off Grendel.
“Shut that whore up,” he grunted at Click.
Click laughed as he pulled up on the shrieking blonde’s hair and shoved her own panties in her mouth. The man had his knee in the small of her back, her dress pulled up, her bare bottom exposed.
They were all currently outside of some Podunk town out in the middle of nowhere, out in some backfield. They’d built a bonfire out here, but they’d grabbed these two no-nothing kids at Mitzy’s on the way out…The men had liked the look of the girl.
He gave a sideways glance over to Cooper and Holmes.
“I’m tired of this,” he said firmly. “Hold that boy still.”
The two men held the kid’s arms while Grendel gave a bored look at the college boy.
This kid and his girl had to be right out of high school by the looks of them. In fact, this squirt was still wearing a blue letterman’s jacket, not that it mattered. This was the end of their journey through life.
The boy’s head lolled from right to left before slumping to his chest.
Grendel shook his head, flicked away his cigarette, and then drew his pistol, firing off a single shot that blew a hole in the kid’s chest. Cooper and Holmes tossed the body to the ground after that while the girl screamed into her own panties, tears streaming down her face.
“Line up the men so they can have some fun with this whore,” he ordered. “I’ve got another bullet waiting for her. After that, toss ’em in the fire. We need to be out of here by dawn. I don’t want to be sitting in some Farmer Brown’s field with my pants down if the cops show up.”
Click laughed as he savagely pulled up on the girl’s blonde hair in order to stand her up. The men surrounded her after that, closing in like a pack of feral dogs, and then they ripped off her dress, tossing it into the fire just before the fun began.
*****
“It was Archie McClean who found the bodies,” said Edgar. “Was his field…Brought the sheriff out there the next day. Found the tire tracks and everything else, along with two charred human remains in what was left a the fire. Found the kids’ car out there, too. It was burnt up from the inside out.
“Now I know it was them Rats who did it. Those kids had checked into Mitzy’s, but they was missin’…Left all their clothes and everything else behind. What I figure was the Rats hijacked the car with the two kids in it and drove ’em out to McClean’s field.
“Yeah, we find two bodies like that? Burnt-out hulk of a car…No identification, no clothes, no nothin’…all that burnt up in the fire…but we all come to a consensus.
“So Sheriff Burke rounds up his officers, but there only six officers and there was twenty Rats, all of them scum armed to the teeth, ex-veterans and whatnot, so we was gonna have ta call fo’ backup…something.
“Burke could a deputized some folks, but we was still afraid of our people gettin’ kilt in there…We needed help. O’Reilly was already at his wit’s end from the abuse his boys was takin’ down at The Fishin’ Hole, so something needed to be done, and it needed to be done quick.”
“So what happened?” asked Cadence. “Did you radio in for help?…I mean…I have an idea, but my source for this was kind of fuzzy on the details.”
“Well, I don’t know what ‘source’ you might a had,” scoffed Edgar, “but I know ’xactly what happened, ’cause I was there. You see, before we could call in, I was riding ’round town with Sheriff Burke. We was lookin’ fo’ folks who might be good deputy material, ’cause this was a serious sit’iation.
“We needed some rearguard fo’ Hamelin just in case the Rats decided they was hungry to come into town. We sure as hell didn’t want them thugs cruising ’round Hamelin, so we was lookin’ fo’ local prospects, but we got interrupted right at the beginning of our little hunt.”
“Okay,” said Cadence. “Tell me exactly what happened, then.”
“Oh…” said Edgar as he sucked in his breath. “You see, Karl Schmidt call the station and inform us that a stranger was standing out in the road near the edge a town. Ol’ Karl was retired and a widower, so he a busybody that liked to get into other people’s b’ness.
“Now, Sheriff Burke get the radio call on his fancy new car radio, ’cause them radios was new technology fo’ us at the time, so we drive on out to the edge a town…and there he was…the stranger, standing like a Fancy Dan in an all-white suit with a white fedora on his head, black band ’round that fedora, black tie, you see, shiny black shoes on his feet.
“He just been standing there, his wallet already out, holding it in his left hand, ’cause I think he knew we was cruising around. He knew somehow, so he had his identification ready to go fo’ the sheriff, but it was me he wanted to talk to.”
“Who?” asked Cadence. “Who wanted to talk to you?”
“Pied Joe Piper,” frowned Edgar.
“The Pied Piper?” asked Cadence. “Like in the fairy tale?”
“Some stories is real,” said Edgar as he lowered his head in thought.
“But you just said his clothes were all white,” observed Cadence. “A black tie and a black band around his hat doesn’t make him pied. That’s monochrome.”
“Oh, his suit was a spotless white,” nodded Edgar. “Every time I seen him, tweren’t a speck a dirt on him from his head to his toes. No, tweren’t his clothes that was pied…No, his eyes was pied.
“You see, his left eye was a…a dark blue or a grey-blue—hard to tell—and it had a little gold circle ’round the pupil, but his right eye…now his right eye was all white, just an ivory white, like the color of milk.
“Yeah, we called him ‘Pied’ Joe Piper as kind of a joke, half on account a the fairy tale, half on account a his eyes, but there was a lot more to him than I could a ever imagined, because like I said, some stories is real.”
*****
Edgar watched as Sheriff Burke handed the stranger’s driver’s license back to him.
“Yo’ name is ‘Joseph Piper’?” asked Burke. “Joe Piper, huh?”
“Piper?” asked Edgar. “Now that’s rich.”
“You come to Hamelin just to stand in the middle of the road, Mr. Piper?” asked the sheriff. “Let me guess…you come to Hamelin ’cause you thought it’d be funny.”
“I’m a serious man, Sheriff,” said the stranger in a cool tone. “No joshin’ ’round here. Now, I can only assume that you are Sheriff Burke and that upstanding gentleman next to you is the good Mayor Tannenbaum. Am I correct?”
Edgar sized this man up.
This “Joe Piper” was a tall white man, around six-one, and he had a square face with a weathered but handsome look, a middle-aged man close to Edgar’s own age of fifty. This stranger’s short, clean-cut black hair held a tinge of grey along the sides, a salt-and-pepper look that gave him a distinguished air.
It was his style of dress, really, that made him suspicious. That spotless-white suit and fedora made him stand out, as he reminded Edgar of some fly-by-night salesman for some reason, someone dodgy that Edgar couldn’t quite trust.
Still, that right eye of Piper’s was what shone about the man’s character. That dead and sightless, alabaster orb drew one’s vision straight to it…
Edgar pulled himself away from that unsightly ocular nightmare and nodded his head once.
“I am Mayor Tannenbaum,” he replied firmly. “And what brings a stranger like you to Hamelin, Mr. Piper? Normally, we’re very friendly to visitors in this here little town…but then again, most visitors stop in to see our local shops and parlors…They don’t stand out in the middle a the road at the edge a town fo’ an hour or more.”
“Well, now…” said Piper as he leaned his head to his own right. “Well, now, I was a waitin’ fo’ an opportunity, and lo and behold, that opportunity has arrived.”
“And what opportunity might that be, Mr. Piper?” asked Sheriff Burke. “Yo’ license says you from Mobile, Alabama, so whatchyou doing in our state?”
“Mobile?” asked Edgar. “I had an old army buddy from Mobile.”
“I know,” said Piper with a slight smirk. “That’s how I found you.”
“Oh, really?” asked Edgar in surprise. “You know Ray?”
“Not really,” admitted Piper. “I met up with his wife in pursuit of somethin’ I been lookin’ fo’ fo’ many years. You see, ol’ Ray’s been deceased fo’ a couple a years now.”
“Oh…” said Edgar unhappily. “I didn’t know…Well, damn…”
“Ray’s widow led me here…to Hamelin…and to you, Mayor Tannenbaum,” said Piper coolly.
“Is that so?” asked Edgar.
“I understand you are in possession of one particular gold guilder,” said Piper. “I aim to collect that.”
“A gold what?” asked Edgar.
“A gold coin,” said Piper firmly. “One yo’ friend, Ray, ‘found’ in Germany.”
“My gold coin?” asked Edgar. “Well, that explains why Ray’s wife would a sent you here…However, that coin’s not fo’ sale, Mr. Piper. Never has been. That’s my good-luck charm. I ain’t about ta give that up.”
“That coin is part of a set, Mayor,” replied Piper. “Now I collected nine hundred and ninety-nine of these coins, but the last…the last one has eluded me fo’ some time.”
“Sorry to hear that,” said Edgar. “I cain’t he’p you tho’. You just gonna have to live with a incomplete collection. My coin is not fo’ sale.”
“Oh, I didn’t come here with an offer a money,” said Piper. “I come here to offer my services. It has come to my attention that you have a rat problem.”
Edgar looked at the sheriff as Burke stared back at him, and then they both burst into laughter. In fact, it took them several seconds just to calm down.
“Son, you mean to tell me that you come to Hamelin to get rid a rats, and yo’ name is Piper?” asked Edgar. “I have heard some reeediculous things in my time, but this one take the cake…Hell, it take the whole bakery.”
“They ain’t rodents, Mr. Piper,” said Burke. “The Rats is a biker gang from out west, and they ain’t the friendly sort. We doin’ an ongoing investigation of ’em, and we was just about to call in backup so we can make some arrests…
“I’d steer clear a them. It’s gonna take several officers from other towns just fo’ us to round ’em up. Near I can tell, they armed and dangerous, which you are most definitely not.”
“My services are a the…extraordinary kind, Sheriff,” replied Piper. “Now, I’m offering my expertise ta get rid a these here ‘Rats,’ and all I want in payment is that coin. I want Mayor Tannenbaum’s gold guilder.”
Edgar stared at Burke as the sheriff stared right back at him, and this time they both held a straight face.
There was no way this Fancy Dan was going to be able to run out the Rats. He was only going to get himself killed.
Of course, Mr. Piper did not seem like the kind of person who took “no” for answer, and more than likely, the enigmatic man would just go off and try to deal with the gang by himself like some cockamamie fool with a death wish, even if Edgar told him not to.
There was only one solution for this: Write him off.
“Sho’ thing, son,” said Edgar. “The Rats is over at Mitzy’s Motel, out past the west side a town. They all together when they hit The Fishin’ Hole, Sean O’Reilly’s fine drinkin’ establishment ’cross the way…
“But I’ll tell you what…you walk into that bar while they in there, and we’ll be hauling yo’ corpse back here to Hamelin. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. On the bright side, if you die, we gots us a bonafide reason to haul them in. Of course, that only good fo’ Hamelin, not fo’ you.”
“So it’s a deal, then?” asked Piper. “You give me the coin if I get rid a yo’ biker gang, these ‘Rats’?”
“Son, I will not only give you the coin,” snorted Edgar, “I will throw a parade fo’ yeh and name a holiday in yo’ honor if you get rid a the Rats fo’ good. Ain’t never gonna happen tho’.”
“Then we’ll shake on it,” said Piper as he stuck out his right hand.
Edgar shrugged and shook the man’s hand.
“Sho’ thing,” he said nonchalantly. “You get rid a the Rats, and that coin is yo’rs.”
“Then we have a deal,” smirked Piper, the gleam of the midday sun in his ivory right eye. “The contract is sealed.”
*****
There was a slight tremble to Ms. Grieves upon this revelation, both in her body and in her voice.
“So, basically, you’re telling me that you sent this man, this stranger…” she replied. “You sent this stranger you’d never met before…You sent this man off to die?”
“Well, about that…” frowned Edgar. “You see, time is unmerciful, and when you my age, you got nothin’ but time. Those seconds tick away, and you realize every terrible mistake you ever made.
“We had an ongoing investigation, and I could a jailed Piper…I could a had Burke hold Piper in a cell fo’ interfering with a investigation, at least until we called in backup and got the Rats arrested, but I…I didn’t think Piper would actually go through with anything.
“I just thought he’d take one look at all those rough customers, turn tail, and run. He’d come on back ta me and look to get the coin in some other way.
“Plus, you weren’t there. Piper was intimidatin’ on a level you can’t imagine. It was that eye a his. That eye looked dead, but I’m tellin’ you…it could see. It could see, but not like a regular eye. It could see into your soul.
“Yeah, we joked and carried on ’bout Piper after that, but I could tell Burke was just as agitated as me ’bout the whole encounter. So, yeah, it was a mistake to send him, but not fo’ the reason you think.”
The young woman seemed to visibly calm herself before speaking again.
“Okay,” said Cadence. “Then tell me what happened.”
“Sho’ thing,” replied Edgar, “but you ain’t gonna believe it.”
*****
Grendel took another swig of his beer as he watched the men play pool. He was sitting at a small circular table across from Click, but his goal wasn’t to be active tonight. He simply wanted to relax and down a few.
The old man that ran this joint, O’Reilly, wasn’t going to cause trouble, because that old Mick knew what was good for him. The old man was currently at the bar, and the Rats had him hostage for the night, because they sure as hell weren’t going to pay for anything.
It wasn’t the first backwoods bar they’d run out of business.
They’d only been in this Podunk for two weeks, but two weeks was long enough for word to get around, so Grendel could feel the law itching at his back. A couple more days of free drinks and some wayward skirts, and they’d be on their way…
He had a sense for these things. It was only a matter of time before the neighboring town, this “Hamelin,” sent in the law, and when it came to the Rats, the law always showed up in force, so a couple more days was all they had until their time ran out.
They’d make tracks soon enough, maybe head down to Texas.
He pitched his musing due to a developing and interesting circumstance. His head automatically swiveled in a buzzed haze as the front door to the bar swung open, because someone new had arrived.
A man in an all-white suit and a white fedora, some Southern-slicker that looked like he had just stepped right out of a snake-oil commercial, walked in and shut the door behind him. He just stood there for a second, eyeballing the joint, but his very presence sparked an immediate end to all conversations amongst the Rats.
Everyone’s eyes turned upon the stranger, and no one said anything for a few seconds.
This man in the white suit and white fedora, this stranger that had just walked in on their territory without so much as a by-your-leave, reached into his white vest and drew forth a long, ivory flute.
Grendel cocked his head to the right as he studied this new strangeness. For one thing, only a moron would walk into someplace where the Rats were nesting. For another, he had no idea what this fool was up to.
The man in the white suit and white hat brought his ivory flute up to his lips and began to play. The melody he conjured forth was haunting at first, and then it quickly turned wicked, a sharp and taunting tune that ate at both the ears and the soul in some form of strange, unholy synergy.
Grendel felt a heavy unease settle down upon him, a fear he had not known since the war. It dug into him, crossing his brain back and forth until it bounced around the recesses of his mind, causing paranoia to set in.
He stared across the table at Click to see if the man felt the same way, but he held his breath as he tried to fathom what he was looking at…
Click’s eyes were a stark red with gold rings around the pupils, and the man smiled, revealing twin rows of sharp fangs.
“Remember your old lady before she took to the hills?” asked Click. “I banged her right good before she took off. Gave her a squealer before she bolted, made her toes curl. That’s what it means to be a real man…not some barking little dog like you.”
“What!” yelled Grendel.
“Yeah, your momma fell down the stairs,” replied Click. “Broke her neck from an ‘accident,’ but it wasn’t an accident. I pushed that old bat ’cause she threatened to call the cops when you and me and Holmes were visiting.”
“Mother fu—!” started Grendel, but he was cut short by the sound of his own gun firing.
He had already stood and had drawn his gun just as Click had stood and was in the process of drawing his own, but Grendel had started pulling his gun before he’d even started standing, so there was only one clear victor.
Click fell backwards as Grendel blew a hole in the man’s right lung. Click went down, and with the roar of that lethal opening shot, the chaos began.
The knives and guns came out as the men turned on each other.
Grendel had no idea what was going on, but he could see their faces, their twisted and demonic faces, and he knew right then that he’d somehow stepped into Hell.
Maybe he’d died of a heart attack or something and just hadn’t realized it, or maybe he’d been poisoned by that old Mick who ran this joint, but he knew he was in Hell, and he knew he was going to have to fight his way out.
His eyes zeroed in upon a struggle between Cooper and Holmes. The two demonic men were locked with hands on wrists, Holmes with a knife in his right hand, a gun in Cooper’s own right to match Holmes’ knife. They spun in a circle as they shouted and snarled at each other, but Grendel was way ahead of them.
Grendel fired off two rounds into Holmes’ back, watched him go down, and then jerked backwards as a bullet went through his own liver. He fired back at Cooper out of sheer adrenaline and rage, and then he watched that bullet open up a bloody hole right between the man’s demonic red eyes.
The wicked ivory flute continued to play, and then a knife went into Grendel’s back, forcing him to drop his own gun.
Grendel spun and confronted a warped and twisted version of a kid who had just joined the Rats, a young man by the name of Hostetter.
This kid’s eyes were aflame, straight up lit with a red fire, and he had red horns jutting out of the top of his forehead, all bloody around the bases of those horns, as if those bestial weapons had simply erupted from the boy’s skin without warning.
Grendel took two more stabs, both to his stomach, two stabs straight in and straight out before he could grab Hostetter’s narrow head and twist it so far around that the boy’s skinny neck snapped.
Hostetter’s body dropped to the floor, and Grendel spat out a wad of blood at the dead younger man.
The music stopped. The flute’s wicked melody slowed to a crawl and then petered out altogether.
Grendel looked around at the savage bloodbath that was the interior of The Fishin’ Hole. The bodies of nineteen men, the brutal and terrible, bloody carnage of what had been the Rats, save for their leader, bedecked the wooden floorboards like the bottom of a slaughterhouse.
He looked about, and there they were, his three closest men laid out where he’d laid them out to a final rest, but they were not demons, no. They were the same men he’d known since they’d all first motored together, the same men he’d known since the war, the same men he’d had by his side when they’d all first terrorized the countryside.
He looked up at the stranger in the white suit.
That man, that middle-aged man with the ivory flute stared back at him, but it was the stranger’s solid-white right eye that looked through Grendel, staring right through him and into his soul.
Grendel knew right then what had happened. He knew right then what was going on.
“You…” he slobbered out through bloody spittle.
He took two steps forward, but the pain from his wounds and the fact that his own stomach acid was now flooding his abdomen kept him from going any further. He clutched his bloody midsection as he simply stood and shook.
“YOOOOOUUU!” he shouted at the stranger.
He fell forward to the bloody boards below as the darkness took him, a coating over of ebony in his vision that signaled a furious finale to his time on Earth.
*****
“Now, ol’ Sean, he call up Burke and tell him the Rats is all dead, not gone, not left Mitzy’s fo’ somewhere else, but dead, deceased,” explained Edgar. “So Burke round up his six officers in the dead a night and head on over to The Fishin’ Hole, and I come too, ’cause the sheriff call me up to tell me what Sean tell him.
“I ’member there was a young officer named…uhhh…Ricker…Kasey Ricker. He walk into The Fishin’ Hole, and then he walk right on out and spill his evenin’ dinner right over the dirt, just threw up everything, so I knew it was bad ’fore I even walk in there…but to see all that blood…It remind me a the war. I had flashbacks.
“So, there was bodies everywhere…on the tables, on the floor, couple on the bar…all twenty a them Rats gutted and shot, so the first thing I wonder is what the hell happened, so the sheriff grill ol’ Sean, and boy howdy did he have a story to tell.
“He say that a stranger walk in while the Rats was there, and that stranger was wearing a white suit and a white fedora. Now that sound like Piper, obviously, but O’Reilly say that man pull out a…a white flute and start playing, and then all hell broke loose. The Rats all kilt each other to the tune of that song.
“Now Sean say that song, first when it pick up, he put his hands over his ears and duck down behind the bar. He give the signal fo’ his two boys to run out the back, but ol’ Sean stay behind to watch the carnage.
“He tell me that…that tune that Piper played was like listening to the voice a the Devil, so he cover his ears and duck down behind the bar until the slaughter had stopped.
“Every single Rat, every last one of ’em, shot and stabbed each other until there was none left…They all dead…every last one of ’em.
“Now, there was no reason anymore to call in backup, ’cause the Rats, they all dead, so we just write it off as a…a…a ‘internal scuffle.’”
“That sounded like more than just an ‘internal scuffle,’” said Cadence cautiously.
“Oh, I know,” nodded Edgar. “You see, deep down I knew it was Piper who did it, made them kill each other, but I didn’t wanna believe it, so things got nasty, real nasty, all ’cause a my stubbornness over the sit’iation, and that’s why what happened happened.”
“So what exactly did happen?” asked Cadence. “I know now why the coin is important, and I’ve already heard the story about what happened after the Rats died—I heard that from my source—but I’d like to hear your version of it.”
“Ain’t no version,” shrugged Edgar. “Only one version, and that version the truth…Just the cold hard truth…But first let me tell you ’bout Piper and when he come to collect.
“Now we had to call in to the big city anyway. We had to call in fo’ some ambulances and whatnot to come drag out those bodies and take ’em to the morgue…and that was a right mess, let me tell you.
“It was two days later when we standing outside the station, and it was me, Burke, his officers, my wife, Beth, and Beth and I’s daughter, Mary Anne, all of us standing outside the station—the police station, that is—all gabbing away about what happened to those murdering thugs down at The Fishin’ Hole…”
*****
“I can’t believe this happened in our good neighborhood,” said Beth.
“It’s a terrible thing,” replied Edgar, “but it could a been a lot worse.”
“Do you think the gov’nment comin’ in fo’ this?” asked Mary Anne.
“We called the feds,” said Sheriff Burke. “The FBI comin’ in fo’ some questions, but that won’t be till next week. Considerin’ this a internal scuffle within the Rats, them suits bein’ lazy ’bout it. Fig’res with the feds. They don’t care ’bout us workin’ men.”
“What exactly happened, Daddy?” asked Mary Anne. “What’djyou see over at The Fishin’ Hole?”
“You don’t wanna know, sweety,” frowned Edgar. “It was ugly. It was real ugly.”
“That’s not something you wanna hear, Mary Anne,” frowned Beth.
“But I do wanna hear it,” frowned Mary Anne in return. “I’m twenty-two. I’m not a child anymore, Momma, so please don’t treat me like one.”
*****
“Now my Mary Anne, she just turn twenty-two at the time,” said Edgar. “She was the sweetest thing…but she weren’t ready fo’ no collegin’ or havin’ a full-time job. She work sometimes over at the antique shop, and she swear to me she go’n get a full-time job by the next year or get married, but…well…I’ll get to that.”
He noticed a slight tremble in Ms. Grieves’ composure, so he commented upon it.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look a little…shaky.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Cadence. “I just had a little too much coffee before my arrival.”
“Oh…” nodded Edgar. “My Mary Anne liked coffee too, but I think that a…a ugly habit fo’ a lady…
“You know…Don’t take this the wrong way, but you…you look like her. You bear a…uhh…a strong resemblance to her. It’s in the face. You both have the same eyes, too.”
“Is that so?” asked Cadence.
“Yeah,” frowned Edgar. “There’s something about you that makes me want to loosen my tongue…Maybe that’s why I’m spilling my guts to a complete stranger while on my deathbed, but somebody got to know, so I might as well tell you…Anyway, you come here fo’ the coin, but all a this matter when it come to that damned thing, so let me continue.”
“Please, do,” said Cadence.
“Anyway, we all talkin’ right outside the station when Piper come a walking up…” continued Edgar. “He come walking up, but I swear I did not notice him till he just appear in our faces, like he come out a nowhere…”
*****
“Mayor Tannenbaum,” said Piper.
“Piper,” replied Edgar cautiously.
“I have come here to collect my payment, Mayor,” said the man in the white suit and white fedora.
Edgar turned to look at Burke as the sheriff turned to look at him. They both burst into laughter after that, and once again, it took them several seconds to calm down. This was the second time they had laughed at Piper’s expense, but Edgar had to admit to himself that he just couldn’t help it.
“Son, you must be jack crazy to think you gonna get paid fo’ doin’ nothin’,” chuckled Edgar.
“I did my service, and I earned my due,” protested Piper. “I rid you a the Rats as promised.”
“Now, boy, you didn’t do a damned thing,” argued Burke. “The Rats all kilt each other. Sean O’Reilly tell us you just stood by and played a flute like a jack-a-ninny while they all engage in the bloodshed.”
“So you are not goin’ to pay me fo’ the job I done fo’ you?” asked Piper.
Edgar and the sheriff burst out laughing once more, but this time all six officers joined in with them.
“Son, that is hyyyyyy…larious,” laughed Edgar. “Ain’t never gonna happen. You lucky you ain’t dead after what go on at The Fishin’ Hole. I’d think that payment enough.”
Piper gave them a stone-cold stare, and that unsettling white eye of his caused Edgar to end his humor at the man’s expense. In fact, Burke and all six of his officers stopped their chuckling as well.
“Now I expect that coin in my hand, Mayor,” said Piper coolly. “I expect that coin in my hand, and I expect a parade fo’ what I done, and I expect a day named in my honor. Those things was promised me fo’ a job well done, and I completed this here job well done, so I expect my payment…Am I clear?”
But Edgar would not be intimidated, especially by some fly-by-night grifter like Piper.
“Boy, you ain’t getting’ a damned thing,” frowned Edgar. “Now you startin’ to rub me the wrong way. Keep it up, and I’ll have the sheriff here haul you right on down to jail.”
“I’m gonna have to repeat myself,” frowned Piper. “Let me get this straight so that I understand…So you are not goin’ to pay me fo’ the job I done fo’ you?”
“Ain’t never gonna happen,” grimaced Edgar. “You ain’t getting’ nothin’.”
“Why is it that people always ignore the mistakes a the past?” asked Piper. “They just ignore the red flags history have to offer, and then they doomed to repeat it? Why don’t you tell me why that is?”
“You think you a fairy tale, boy?” scowled Edgar. “You come into Hamelin lookin’ fo’ an easy mark, takin’ us fo’ ign’rant yokels that don’t know nothin’, but you the one that don’t know nothin’. We ain’t the kind to get the wool pulled over our eyes.”
*****
“Now my Mary Anne, she get a strange feelin’ while Piper and I been going back and forth,” explained Edgar. “That’s why she start arguin’ with me. I think she knew, on some level anyway, what was goin’ to happen, so she try to warn me.”
Ms. Grieves trembled a little as she listened with visible intensity.
“What happened?” asked the young woman in a shaky voice.
“Oh, I was a stubborn jackass,” replied Edgar. “You see, I knew deep down that Piper was the real deal…I knew it…but I didn’t wanna listen. I didn’t wanna listen to my own inner warnin’ bell, and I sure as hell didn’t wanna listen to Mary Anne…”
*****
“You should just give him what he wants, Daddy,” spoke up Mary Anne.
Edgar turned to rebuke his daughter, but he stopped short as he stared upon her pale face and her trembling form. She was gazing right at Piper’s face, but more specifically, into that terrible white eye of his.
“I ain’t givin’ him nothin’, Mary Anne,” grimaced Edgar. “Now you stay out a this.”
“You should listen to the young lady, Mayor,” smirked Piper. “She got good reason to pay me…Good reason…A hundred and thirty of ’em to be exact.”
“You tryin’ to be funny, boy?” asked Edgar. “You think I don’t know the story? This is Hamelin, fo’ Lord’s sake! We all know the story, you jackass!”
“Don’t make him mad, Daddy,” warned Mary Anne.
“That man ain’t nothin’ but a no-good snake-oil salesman!” snapped Edgar. “He just a grifter lookin’ to steal my coin! Now you stay out a this Mary Anne!”
“Just give him what he wants!” screeched the young woman in an audible panic.
Edgar was taken aback for a second. He had never seen his daughter like this before…Unfortunately for her, though, her sudden outburst only angered him further.
“Beth, you get her out a here now!” he demanded. “You in deep when I get home, little girl!”
“You stubborn old fool!” cried Mary Anne. “You don’t know whatchyou doin’!”
“Get her out a here now!” roared Edgar.
His wife grabbed their daughter by the right arm and practically dragged her away toward their car, their new brass-colored Buick Roadmaster parked right across the street.
“You bringin’ hell down on us!” yelled Mary Anne from across the street. “This is all just yo’ stupid pride! You just a stubborn old fool!”
Everyone watched as the young woman and her mother drove off, but this only enraged Edgar. He was red-faced and shaky by the time he got back around to dealing with Piper.
Oh, yeah, he’d had enough of this grifter.
He stared at the man in the white suit and white fedora and then delivered his ultimatum.
“Now you got till sundown to get on out a here, boy,” growled Edgar. “You don’t git, you gonna get yo’ parade. We gonna gather out here in the street, we gonna tar and feather you, and then we gonna ride you out on a rail. That the only parade you gonna get.”
“Oh, trust me, Mayor, I’ll get my parade,” smirked Piper. “That coin is mine by right…You got three days till I come back fo’ compensation, and you will not like it when I do…I’m coming back with help this time, because this time? This time ain’t like befo’. This time you Hamelin folks have made me mad.”
“You can bring all the help you want, boy,” glowered Edgar. “Ain’t gonna he’p you…Sheriff, escort Mr. Piper to the edge a town…Make sure he keep his eye off any a the children too. This crazy suckah belong in a…a mental institution. Wouldn’t surprise me if he one of them child diddlers…Anyone think they is a fairy tale is a danger to the children…Now get this no-good grifter out a here.”
Pied Part I Copyright © 2024 bloodytwine.com Matthew L. Marlott
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