Hi everyone, its been a few weeks. I compiled 9 words into this one to make up for lost time. This is not a continuation of the Cortez Case; instead I went for a change and decided to check in on a different personality from earlier 3 word Wednesdays. You can find this character in my January contribution entitled, "The Protection Amulet" and its sequel in February. Thanks for stopping by, and hope you enjoy.
“Wh… where am I?”
A lone candle centered on a circular wooden table provided the only light. Vague blues and greens of a Hawaiian-style shirt floated out of the darkness.
“Yoo ar Zon York, ar yoo not?” Teeth and eyeballs above the colorful shirt spoke. The dark face was still unclear as he took a seat across the table.
“What is meaning of this? Who are you?”
“Yoo can call me Dean. Now, yoo’ar Zon York?”
“John York, yes. Where are we?”
Dean wasn’t about to feign an apologetic tone. He had little tolerance for the humility expected by people of wealth. “Mista Zon York, I need ta ask yoo some questions. An’ I need yoo ta cooperate.”
“But I demand to know…” John pounded an unexpectedly small fist onto the table.
“Zon, time is short. Lissen to me. I need yoo ta retrace wat happened at the golf course.”
John swallowed and sighed before beginning. “Me and my business partner were on the fourteenth hole, I was three over par but still beating Greg. We were shooting onto the green, about 80 yards from the hole, when these guys came walking over to us. Jamaican guys, four of them. They started to hassle us. Started demanding money on the spot.” John grabbed at his throat, “Does my voice sound funny to you?”
“Pleez jus continue Zon. Wat happened next? Did yoo give dem money?”
“Well I looked back at Greg, the caddie had hit him over the head with the sand wedge. He put Greg in the cart and rode off. I tried to stop them but one of them had my arm and was taking my gold watch. Another one grabbed my left hand and they walked me off the course.”
“Do yoo recall anyzing about dem?”
“One had an afro. The others had short hair. Wait, one was bald. Got fuzzy at that point, one of them injected me with something. I think one responded to Trevor from another one of them… Trevor had the afro.”
“Was der any reezon foh Trevor an his men ta come affer yoo? Did yoo owe anyone money?”
“What are you implying?” John was alarmed and his pitch raised to that of a whining woman. “I am an honest man with good virtues! I am not a swindler or hustler! I made my living honestly! “
“Point taken Zon, jus’ tryin ta piece tagether a motive iz all. Pleez continue wit Trevor.”
John gazed to the candle flame, scrounging random memories from erased interims. “A car ride… then I was being pushed around… everything was spinning. An ATM machine… I remember… then another car ride… I was in the trunk. I was in a meadow, don’t know how I got there, they were making me dig…”
“Wat was neer zis meadow Zon?”
“I don’t recall… grass, trees, wait… there was a playground nearby. Looked like a schoolyard… far… in the distance.”
“That is all I remember.”
An awkward silence fell between John and his exotic interviewer. John squinted trying to make sense of Dean’s labyrinth tattoo across his right cheek. Dean got to his feet and leaned toward the candle, “Dat is all I haf foh questions Zon. I will blow out dis candle an when I do, yoo will return to where ya came. Thanks foh your cooperation Zon.”
John nodded. Dean’s next gesture left the room pitch black. When the light returned, Dean was across the room at a light switch. He strolled across the room to the frazzled woman sitting at the table. She looked around confusedly, “What happened? Did it work?”
“Can yoo tell me yoh name ma’am?”
“Yes Mrs. York,” Dean revealed a recorder from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, “We made contact wit yoh husband.”