The Visitor

The fire spits out with contempt as it burns through the strips of pine laid over the top of crumpled newspaper. He sits in the chair waiting, a glass of expensive brandy cupped in his hand, staring down into the amber liquid, waiting and remembering.

He was a young man once, full of ambition, full of drive, ready to take on the world. The fire spat at him again almost as if it were mocking him. He looked at the flames as they started to lick the four logs he had placed on top of the pine kindling. He looked upward at the big clock on the mantelpiece, it wouldn’t be too long now, he thought, as the minute hand past the ten. Outside the wind blew more flakes of snow against the window pane. The weather wouldn’t stop him, his visitor was the most determined of people. He had known him all his life, never too far away.

For a brief moment he was a boy again skating on the lake waving hard at his friend across the pond. He was wearing a blue coat with matching hat and scarf. The day had been cold but the winter sun had decided to make an appearance, they had been skating and throwing snowballs laughing at the ducks as the waddled past them in search of water.

The fire gave out another loud crack, the scene changed. This time he was twenty one, it was North Africa he had joined the army. They were on board a freight train, fifteen men in one compartment. The sun beating through the hole in the roof as the train clattered noisily over the tracks, the man next to him his head a mass of bloody bandages moaning softly.

Outside the window the wind howled. It wouldn’t be long now, the old man thought as he swished the brandy around in the glass like a turbulent sea.

How could he forget that night, plunged into the water, the icy cold water as the music still played. Arms flailing crying out for help as the seawater kept leaping into his mouth.

The clock chimed once.

He remembered the wedding bells chiming loudly as he walked with his bride down the aisle. He in his smart uniform, she all dressed in white, smiling up at him as they walked through the guard of honour.

He shook his head and finally took a sip, and let the liquid warm his mouth.

He was in the hospital again, there had been complications. She was bleeding. It didn’t look good for mother or child. A tear started to well in the corner of his eye. Damn the memories he thought as he sunk the contents of the glass.

The cold icy wind blew through the room as the door slowly opened, then closed again.

“About time!” He harrumphed.

“I’ve been busy,” the visitor said as he took a seat in the chair opposite and took off his long black gloves. He warmed his hands rubbing them together in front of the fire.

“Would you like a cognac?” the old man asked as he poured himself another.

“It is a cold night,” the visitor said as he accepted the old man’s invitation.

“You know one thing I realized tonight,” the old man said settling back in his chair.

His visitor shrugged.

“We have known each other a long time have we not, you have always been around me,” he looked long and hard into his visitor’s eyes.

The thin man nodded slowly, “You’ve been a lucky man Joseph, you have your wealth to keep you warm in your old age.”

“Tonight all the money in the world counts for nothing,” the old man said bitterly.

The thin man nodded, “I’ve never been much when it comes to money.”

The clock chimed twice.

“Is it time yet?” The old man asked as a tear slowly trickled down his ruddy cheek.

“Not long now,” the thin man said softly, “We’ve got time to finish our drinks.”

“I’d imagine you’ve other houses to visit tonight,” the old man said as he finished his drink and looked up at the tall thin man now standing beside him.

The thin man took a long gulp and threw the remaining contents into the fire, it disappeared silently.

The old man nodded his head as the thin man touched him lightly on the shoulder.

The fire dimmed, the flames died down and the smoke drifted into the room as the cognac glass slipped from the old man’s fingers and shattered on the iron hearth.

The thin man sighed and reached for his gloves and coat.

The old man’s glassy stare gave up a final tear as the wind howled and the door closed behind him.