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Trial by Juryby Tom Hanslits
Copyright 2000 All rights reserved
Smoke curled lazily from Joe's cigar. He leaned against the bar as he surveyed the crowd. The jazz was hot and pounded out a primal beat that kept tempo with the early evenings activities.
Like Joe, the people were here for a good time. They milled about or danced, each searching to find a partner for the balance of the evening. Some were dressed in their best; others were less concerned with outward appearances. By midnight it wouldn't matter anyway. The fortunate ones would have found a match by then. Those remaining single would fight like a pack of wolves over the scraps.
"Excuse me buddy, got a light?"
Joe was roused from his musing by a decidedly strong masculine voice. He looked up to see a tall dark man in his mid thirties and well dressed. A cigarette poised between his fingers approaching for a light. There was a lot a character etched on the mans face. He wasn't overly handsome, yet he possessed a quality that Joe couldn't identify. The stranger had a look of deep knowledge and understanding. His knowing eyes were at opposition with his age. Disregarding his impression of the man, smiling he said, "sure."
"Thanks pal. I left my lighter in the car." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the parking lot.
"Don't mention it," he said as his cigar lighter snapped closed.
"Nice torch. How do you like it?"
Joe was a little perturbed at the mans persistence. He didn't need the competition tonight and he didn't need it standing next to him. He wanted to be apart the rest of the crowd, not alone, but separate. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to get really angry and blow the guy off. "Fine, just fine," he finally answered.
"Been here long buddy? How's the action?"
"Do I know you pal?" was Joe's frigid response.
"No I don't believe you do. But I know you."
"Look. I don't do business outside of the office unless I've made the plans." An angry edge came quickly to Joe's voice. "You can't approach me at a bar and expect to sell me anything."
"No, no, don't get me wrong. I'm not here to sell you anything. It's really kind of tough to explain."
"Give it your best shot or get lost." Joe turned to face the bar and took a healthy, aggravated puff of his cigar. He felt bad for giving the stranger the brush, but it was his personal time and he didn't even know the guy.
"Fair enough," came the pleasant response. "I'll take you up on that. This reminds me of something that happened to me when I was just a kid . . ."
Joe turned his head slightly to one side. It was for two reasons. The first was to see if this guy was for real and the other was because he loved to reminisce about his own childhood. He had a good life and he was a self made man. But his childhood was a simpler time and it relaxed him when he relived cherished moments.
" . . . So you see, that's why I thought I'd strike up a conversation. Well can I stay or should I get lost?" A broad smile crossed the strangers face. It was a friendly, inviting smile.
"I must be nuts to say yes, but you can stay." Perplexed at his own response, Joe still felt good about inviting the man to stay. It had been a while since he had a male companion to shoot the breeze with. This could be a blessing in disguise.
"So tell me, what's your name? You seem a friendly sort." Joe's body language indicated that he was truly interested.
"It's Luc. It's French. Let me guess your name. I love that game. Now let me see . . ." Luc stepped back from the bar stool and took stock of his new acquaintance. His appraisal lasted for a minute or so. At least it seemed that way to Joe. "You obviously have money. There is a practical, hard working air about you. Born in the Midwest judging from your accent. I would have to say a solid no nonsense kind of name, the kind of name that farmers and steel workers have. It would be a proud name. I will say . . . that your name is . . . Joe."
"My God," exclaimed Joe. "How the hell did you do that?"
How in hell indeed smirked Luc to himself. "Lots of practice Joe. I've spent years studying people and their behavior. You might say it's been my life's work. It started out to be a hobby. When I was a kid I would pretend to be Sherlock Holmes. I never had a Dr. Watson so there was no one else to play the game with. I soon developed a keen sense of observation and it has led me to become a reservoir of useless trivia. It does come in handy at moments like this."
"That's some reservoir you've got Luc. You'd make a hell of a salesman with that talent. I might have an opening for you in my business."
"I thought this was your personal time and that you didn't discuss business unless you made the appointment."
"Ouch," smiled Joe.
"Sorry, no offense. I'm not job hunting. You looked like a lost soul when I saw you from across the room, so I came over. There's no more to it than that."
"Well I'm no lost soul. That I can guarantee. I've been charting my own course for over thirty years and have been happier than most men with few if any regrets."
"Now that was a mouthful. You're a self made man with everything you ever wanted and the where with all to set his own destiny and follow the path steadfastly. Let me tell you, I'm more than just a little impressed."
A self-satisfied smile spread broadly across Joe's face. "It's not all that. I've had my share of set backs and reversals. I have a self-determining destiny. I decided a long time ago that I'd be successful. There'd be nothing else acceptable. With that realization comes certain clarity of purpose.
"Look at the great white shark as an example. The species is the undisputed monarch of the sea. Am I right? But they don't start out as fully-grown killers and supreme rulers. Many lose their lives as they struggle to the top of the food chain. Once at the top, they're the baddest mothers in the sea. That's where I am.
"So many times I was down but not out. My goal was always fixed ahead of me and clearly in my sight. I was one of the lucky ones who outsmarted my adversaries to end up at the top of the food chain."
"I still remain impressed. I've studied thousands of people and have never met anyone like you. I am in an awkward position right now. There are some things that I'd like to tell to you but not just yet. Let's get to know one another a little better."
"I don't understand. What could you possibly have that you need to reveal to me? I told you that I'm not buying." Joe's voice was clearly showing his growing agitation.
"Don't blow a gasket Joe. I used the wrong words, that's all. I like to talk about my childhood. It's fun for me. You tend to find a common ground more quickly when you're reliving your childhood. I was just afraid that my life was mundane in comparison. I've never met anyone with your self-confidence and sense of purpose. It's a little unnerving that's all."
"Sorry I was so cynical. Let me buy you a drink." There was a pause as he waited for Luc's response. "A sort of peace offering. What do you say Luc? We'll toast to friendship and the lost days of our youth and the fond memories they hold."
"Now there's an admirable toast if ever I've heard one," responded Luc. The smile had returned to his face. He raised a mock glass to the toast.
Joe was more puzzled than ever. It shouldn't matter to him or any one what this stranger felt; yet he was relieved to see the smile return to Luc's face. Reflexively he raised his empty hand to the same salute.
---
The hours raced by more quickly than Joe had realized. A chance glance at his watch had revealed that it was already midnight. Well, a few minutes before if one was inclined to split hairs.
"Well we're down to it now Joe. We've wiled away the hours remembering your younger years. I have to say that I am impressed with you more than ever. You've managed to climb to the top of the ladder and you've been fair with all you've surpassed. I had almost hoped that you were more than a shrewd businessman. I wanted to see you operate your empire on greed, avarice beyond imagination. I can find none of that."
"What's your point Luc?"
"Let me cut to the chase. I said that I thought you were a lost soul when we first met. I came over to meet you because you were not on my list of collections. The curiosity was getting to me."
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not a lost soul. I'm Joe Fitzpatrick. I know who I am and I know where I'm going."
"Well that's the whole point now isn't it?"
"You better explain yourself more clearly than this. I'm lost."
"You just stated that you knew where you were going. I challenge you to tell me where you've been. You see Joe, my name is Luc. It's short for Lucifer. I came here to collect a soul tonight. I had done just that when I spotted you. You see Joe; I can only see souls that belong to me. You don't, yet here you are."
"How can you see my soul? What did you slip in my drinks? I want answers or I'll call the police. You aren't gonna get away with this you freak."
"Settle down Joe. I haven't collected your soul. It appears that for the first time in history, you, Joe Fitzpatrick have managed to produce a soul that is precisely in balance."
"What are you talking about, in balance?"
"You're not on my list and you didn't go into the light."
"That's really true?"
"Showmanship, Joe. Nothing more."
"Wait a minute. I would have to be dead to be . . ." "Collected?"
"Yeah." "You are."
"Bullshit!" Turning back to the bartender, he asked for a phone. The bartender ignored his request. "I'm talking to you," he shouted. The bartender went about his business as if no one was seated there. Joe was getting red in the face.
"This is the real deal Joe. When a person dies, there's sort of a trial by jury. If you've led a life that weights your soul to the good, you go to the light. Otherwise, you're put on my list."
Joe gazed into the eyes of the same calm, likable face that he saw at the start of the evening. Luc's eyes were staring intently, waiting for the realization to hit home. His calm demeanor was now somehow horrific in it's peacefulness. Joe began to come unraveled. His world was shattered and he was sitting face to face with the devil.
"Relax Joe. It could be worse."
"Worse!?" he screamed. "I'm going to hell. I know that I wasn't the best among men, but I was fair and tried to be honest more times than not!"
"I never said that you were going to hell, Joe. What ever gave you that idea?"
"Your Lucifer himself. I'm not the brightest candle on the stand but you are the devil. I didn't miss that point did I?"
"Haven't you heard anything that I've said Joe? I told you that I've already collected the soul I came for. You're not on my list. I didn't come for you."
"I remember. So what's the deal here?"
"I'm not exactly sure Joe. As I said earlier; this is new to me. You're the first perfectly balanced soul in all of history. I know that you don't like to talk business unless you set up the meeting, but I think that you'll like what I've got to say."
"You want to make a deal with me? You want me to sell you my soul? That's not going to happen Luc. Jesus H. Christ, look at me, on first name terms with the devil."
"Don't be so melodramatic. Here's my proposition in a nutshell. You're a damn fine businessman. I need an executive assistant in the worst way. The Creator and I are in constant competition for souls. I get the worst of them. I need someone that I can trust. You fit the bill."
"There's a catch to this somewhere. It's too easy. I'm not committing to a life in hell and then expect to get off debt free. This is one of those devilish tricks. I've got your number pal."
"A lot of what you hear from organized religion is propaganda. You are in perfect balance and they didn't come for you. Doesn't that tell you something? They obviously don't want you and I can't have you. Where will you go? Are you going to walk the earth until the end of time? It will be pretty damn lonely. There's no one else like you Joe, anywhere. You can petition them for entrance and see if that flies. If they wanted you to petition, they would have come and ask. Think about it. Your balance means a ton of paperwork. For all their talk about how bad I am, they're willing to leave you stranded for eternity because they're too lazy to do the paperwork."
"Hell is only bad for those that have earned the right to eternal damnation. You don't qualify for anything. I can set you up like a king and you could spend eternity any way that you desire. You would be free to come and go anytime that you choose. I'd need you for collections on the real busy days. You could even petition for entrance up there if you got tired of me.
"I can't have you and they don't want you. I can never hold you in hell for any reason. Anything that you do while you're there doesn't count. You're already dead. You don't have to sign away your soul, just start working for me to help alleviate some of my workload. What do you say, Joe?"
"There are so many questions that need to be answered. I will not cast my soul into hell."
"I've already gone over that with you. If you don't believe me, I'll arrange for you to meet someone from up there. We are not adversaries in the way you were taught. We each have a job to do. We collect the souls of man."
"I understand that," said Joe. The edge had come away from his voice. He'd returned to the logical businessman that he was.
"Joe, you have to understand one thing. Man has a free will. There are good and bad results from the choices a person makes throughout life. We collect the souls of everyone after a lifetime of choices. There are only two options. You alone, have at the very least, one more choice."
A curious expression crossed Joe's face as he turned to face Luc once more.
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