Something Borrowed by Nigel Byng

Something Borrowed (A Hotel Masticadores Halloween Special)

By Nigel Byng

PART TWO

I smirked. At least I had company for my final agonizing hours. I didn’t mind dying. Everyone kicked the bucket at some point. Old man Jimmy Henderson, died in the latrine, and his wife fell over when she found him later that day. What time I arrived at the gates of hell was irrelevant to me. And how I get there is of no consequence either. It could be on a huge demonic bat, or in the belly of a serpent, the fare was already paid in full.

“I’ll tell you what, Miss Abigail.” He smacked the cane on his leg, and it sounded wooden.

“How do you know my name?” I asked.

“I am willing to give you a chance at a long life.” He ignored me.

“Mister, those be the same words that Bishop Hillsong said when he groped my thigh.”

“A chance,” he continued, “to forego the pain, the scars, and an untimely death. And live for an eternity as the stunning, irresistible beauty that you truly are. With a few conditions, of course.”

“Are you sure you aren’t related to Bishop Hillsong?” I tore the sleeve off my tattered dress, nursing the wounds. “Ok, humor me.”

He squatted on a grave and looked up at me, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” He sang as he twirled his cane in his hand.

“And sixpence in my shoe. Look here, Bob. I am not looking for a fella. In case the news hasn’t reached your neck of the woods, I haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to love. So no thank you.”

He tapped the end of his cane against a marble headstone and hummed a sonnet often heard at gravesides. The implication is devastatingly obvious. I didn’t really wish to die.

“Alright. What’s in it for you?”

“A queen, a mistress, my terror to the men you’ll bewitch.” He hopped and skipped on the gravestones. “I ask only a soul this night each year, for this gift I give which is ever so rare.”

He made me laugh, as his eyes twinkled with mischievous glee. “I feel as though I’m making a deal with the devil.”

“If it looks like an apple and tastes like an apple.” He was the most animated man I had ever encountered. His hands and eyebrows did all the talking. But there was no way he could ever be old Lucifer.

“I’ll take it, on one condition.” I had nothing to lose.

“Name it, my lovely.” He touched the side of my face, and I could feel it beginning to heal.

“Tell me the name of the man who desires my hand.”

He produced a roll of paper from his breast pocket and pressed it out on the cold marble. A quill, and a bottle of ink, magically appeared.

“There ought to be no secrets between a man and his wife.” He winked at me and offered the quill.

“I only have three of the four things you requested.” I almost apologized.

“I’m a fair man. And I will never say no to an honest barter. Make me your counteroffer my dear.”

“Something Old.” I took off my one good shoe. “Something new.” I handed him the lace handkerchief Leon had gifted me.

“Two more, my fair lady.” He wiggled two fingers in my face.

“Hold your horses.” I took the sapphire I had tucked in my bosom. “Something blue.” I rested it gently in his hand.

“Something borrowed?” He asked.

“I am no magician. There isn’t anyone around for miles.”

“If you stick around long enough, the townsfolk will come to pray for those tucked away.” He pointed at the grave.

I nicked his broad hat with the plumage and placed it on my head. “There, I am borrowing this lovely hat. That’s four for four.”

He applauded slowly, then pointed to the spot on the page. “Then we have a deal, my lady.”

I signed my name, and he signed his in large letters right underneath mine.

“Lucy?” I pulled the paper closer to my eyes. “What kind of gentleman calls himself Lucy?”

With a wave of his hand, I was adorned in the prettiest silk gown. and could feel my entire body beginning to heal.

“You will need the hat.” He said, walking away while throwing a small pouch of boiled sweets at me.

“Why?”

“Three out of four. That means I meet you three-quarters of the way.”

I lifted the hat and felt the top of my head. The alteration had not been there before. Horns… I could swear that I had horns.

“Give it time.” He suggested, with a grin. “Make your first payment tonight when the parishioners come to pray. The horns will disappear. But the leg, that is the one-quarter that is lacking. I am a fair man after all.”

I felt my leg, and to my horror, I had the hoof of a bull in the place of my right leg. “Urgh!!”

He disappeared into the mist, just as the lanterns of the parishioners were entering the gates of the cemetery. It was the eve of all Soul’s Day, and I was stuck in the middle of a cemetery, with horns on my head, a hoof for feet, and on the run for the murder of a family. But I guess I was still lucky to be alive, and there was no way in hell, I was walking away from this deal. I would be tricking or treating some unlucky gentleman tonight. A girl has bills to pay.

Author’s Bio

Nigel Byng is a freelance writer, living in the USA. He recently contributed to Happiness in Unexpected Places; an anthology of stories compiled by authors and media professionals from across the globe. His writing can be found on Signs of the Times Australia; MasticadoresIndia, or on his personal blog www.hytsdaily.com where he displays his love of fiction and poetry under his pen name, Jerome Kenrick.