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Sunday, March 29, 2020

the endless rain - 3. packy


by nick nelson

part three of twenty-eight

for previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here





johnny did not turn around, but he saw packy out of the corner of his eye when packy came through the door and headed for his old booth in the corner.

same old packy, thought johnny. he was wearing the same old heavy gray coat and brown hat, and he had a newspaper in his hand, to do the crossword in.

johnny thought packy looked like he was in a halfway good mood, but how could he know for sure?

ralph brought packy a cup of coffee.

“anything else?” ralph asked packy.

“how about a nice jelly doughnut?” packy took his pencil out of his coat pocket and folded the paper over to do the crossword.

ralph went back behind the counter.

johnny decided it was time to act. he got up from his stool and approached packy.

“remember me?” he asked.

packy looked up for about a tenth of a second. “i can’t say that i do, pal.”

“is this guy bothering you, packy?” ralph asked.

“nah, it’s okay. what can i do for you, my friend?” packy asked johnny.


but before johnny could answer, packy tapped the paper with his pencil asked him, “what’s a four letter word, ending in e, for ‘situation of misery and frustration’?

“life,” johnny answered.

“that’s right, that’s good. what’s a seven letter word, second letter ‘e’, sixth letter ‘i’, for ‘the common condition of mankind’?”

“despair.”

“very good! you’re a real sharp fellow, like a college professor or something. so what can i do for you?”

“don’t you remember me?” johnny asked again.

packy looked directly at johnny for the first time. “i already told you i didn’t.”

“you owe me money.”

“i owe you money? i don’t think so. i don’t even know you.”

ralph came over with packy’s jelly doughnut on a blue plate. it was the biggest jelly doughnut johnny had ever seen.

the door opened and packy’s driver finally came in. he had a few snowflakes on his hat and on his mean face.

that was another thing that made packy packy - he always had a driver to drive him around, just like the president or the mayor.

“you sure this character isn’t bothering you?” ralph asked packy.

“i don’t think so. not yet.”

“you owe me money,” johnny repeated. “i did a job for you and you never paid me.”


“who is this clown?” the driver asked. he seated himself at the end of the counter, across from packy’s booth.

packy ignored him. “a job?” he asked johnny. “and when did you do this job?”

“about six years ago.”

“six years ago?” packy repeated. packy, ralph, and the driver all laughed.

“six years ago, before the war.”

“what war?” asked the driver. “there ain’t been no war lately.”

“the war between the cornflakes and the grapenuts,” ralph put in.

packy laughed, looking straight at johnny. “all right, my friend, how much money am i supposed to owe you?”

“sixty dollars.”

“sixty dollars? six-ty dollars? not six hundred dollars? not six thousand?”

“sixty dollars. that’s all. i just want what’s rightfully mine.”

packy hesitated. “no, no. you almost had me there, my friend.” he laughed “i would almost give you your sixty bucks just because you’re a smart fellow who can do the crossword good. but no. i can’t be giving money to every schmo who comes along now, can i? so be on your way.”

“i only want what’s rightfully mine,” johnny insisted.

packy turned his eyes down to his crossword. “get going. go do a crossword. or make yourself a snownan.”

ralph and the driver were staring at johnny.

“i’m going to finish my coffee,” said johnny.

“you paid for it,” said ralph. “but stop bothering people.”

johnny finished his coffee and found himself back out in the street. the cold air and snow whirled around him.


4. estelle



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