Tales of the Unexpected Read online

  ‘Excuse pleess, but may I sit here?’

  ‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘Go ahead.’

  He bobbed around to the back of the chair and inspected it for safety, then he sat down and crossed his legs. His white buckskin shoes had little holes punched all over them for ventilation.

  ‘A fine evening,’ he said. ‘They are all evenings fine here in Jamaica.’ I couldn’t tell if the accent were Italian or Spanish, but I felt fairly sure he was some sort of a South American. And old too, when you saw him close. Probably around sixty-eight or seventy.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It is wonderful here, isn’t it.’

  ‘And who, might I ask, are all dese? Dese is no hotel people.’ He was pointing at the bathers in the pool.

  ‘I think they’re American sailors,’ I told him. ‘They’re Americans who are learning to be sailors.’

  ‘Of course dey are Americans. Who else in de world is going to make as much noise as dat? You are not American no?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I am not.’

  Suddenly one of the American cadets was standing in front of us. He was dripping wet from the pool and one of the English girls was standing there with him.

  ‘Are these chairs taken?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ I answered.

  ‘Mind if I sit down?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. He had a towel in his hand and when he sat down he unrolled it and produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He offered the cigarettes to the girl and she refused; then he offered them to me and I took one. The little man said, ‘Tank you, no, but I tink I have a cigar.’ He pulled out a crocodile case and got himself a cigar, then he produced a knife which had a small scissors in it and he snipped the end off the cigar.

  ‘Here, let me give you a light.’ The American boy held up his lighter.

  ‘Dat will not work in dis wind.’

  ‘Sure it’ll work. It always works.’

  The little man removed his unlighted cigar from his mouth, cocked his head on one side and looked at the boy.

  ‘All-ways?’ he said slowly.

  ‘Sure, it never fails. Not with me anyway.’

  The little man’s head was still cocked over on one side and he was still watching the boy. ‘Well, well. So you say dis famous lighter it never fails. Iss dat you say?’

  ‘Sure,’ the boy said. ‘That’s right.’ He was about nineteen or twenty with a long freckled face and a rather sharp birdlike nose. His chest was not very sunburned and there were freckles there too, and a few wisps of pale-reddish hair. He was holding the lighter in his right hand, ready to flip the wheel. ‘It never fails,’ he said, smiling now because he was purposely exaggerating his little boast. ‘I promise you it never fails.’

  ‘One momint, pleess.’ The hand that held the cigar came up high, palm outward, as though it were stopping traffic. ‘Now juss one momint.’ He had a curious soft, toneless voice and he kept looking at the boy all the time.

  ‘Shall we not perhaps make a little bet on dat?’ He smiled at the boy. ‘Shall we not make a little bet on whether your lighter lights?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll bet,’ the boy said. ‘Why not?’

  ‘You like to bet?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll always bet.’

  The man paused and examined his cigar, and I must say I didn’t much like the way he was behaving. It seemed he was already trying to make something out of this, and to embarrass the boy, and at the same time I had the feeling he was relishing a private little secret all his own.

  He looked up again at the boy and said slowly, ‘I like to bet, too. Why we don’t have a good bet on dis ting? A good big bet.’

  ‘Now wait a minute,’ the boy said. ‘I can’t do that. But I’ll bet you a quarter. I’ll even bet you a dollar, or whatever it is over here – some shillings, I guess.’

  The little man waved his hand again. ‘Listen to me. Now we have some fun. We make a bet. Den we got up to my room here in de hotel where iss no wind and I bet you you cannot light dis famous lighter of yours ten times running without missing once.’

  ‘I’ll bet I can,’ the boy said.

  ‘All right. Good. We make a bet, yes?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll bet you a buck.’

  ‘No, no. I make you a very good bet. I am rich man and I am sporting man also. Listen to me. Outside de hotel iss my car. Iss very fine car. American car from your country. Cadillac –’

  ‘Hey, now. Wait a minute.’ The boy leaned back in his deck-chair and he laughed. ‘I can’t put up that sort of property. This is crazy.’

  ‘Not crazy at all. You strike lighter successfully ten times running and Cadillac is yours. You like to have dis Cadillac, yes?’

  ‘Sure, I’d like to have a Cadillac.’ The boy was grinning.

  ‘All right. Fine. We make a bet and I put up my Cadillac.’

  ‘And what do I put up?’

  The little man carefully removed the red band from his still unlighted cigar. ‘I never ask you, my friend, to bet something you cannot afford. You understand?’

  ‘Then what do I bet?’

  ‘I make it very easy for you, yes?’

  ‘Okay. You make it easy.’

  ‘Some small ting you can afford to give away, and if you did happen to lose it you would not feel too bad. Right?’

  ‘Such as what?’

  ‘Such as, perhaps, de little finger on your left hand.’

  ‘My what?’ The boy stopped grinning.

  ‘Yes. Why not? You win, you take de car. You looss, I take de finger.’

  ‘I don’t get it. How d’you mean, you take the finger?’

  ‘I chop it off.’

  ‘Jumping jeepers! That’s a crazy bet. I think I’ll just make it a dollar.’

  The little man leaned back, spread out his hands palms upwards and gave a tiny contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘I do not understand. You say it lights but you will not bet. Den we forget it, yes?’

  The boy sat quite still, staring at the bathers in the pool. Then he remembered suddenly he hadn’t lighted his cigarette. He put it between his lips, cupped his hands around the lighter and flipped the wheel. The wick lighted and burned with a small, steady, yellow flame and the way he held his hands the wind didn’t get to it at all.

  ‘Could I have a light, too?’ I said.

  ‘God, I’m sorry, I forgot you didn’t have one.’

  I held out my hand for the lighter, but he stood up and came over to do it for me.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, and he returned to his seat.

  ‘You having a good time?’ I asked.

  ‘Fine,’ he answered. ‘It’s pretty nice here.’

  There was a silence then, and I could see that the little man had succeeded in disturbing the boy with his absurd proposal. He was sitting there very still, and it was obvious that a small tension was beginning to build up inside him. Then he started shifting about in his seat, and rubbing his chest, and stroking the back of his neck, and finally he placed both hands on his knees and began tap-tapping with his fingers against the kneecaps. Soon he was tapping with one of his feet as well.

  ‘Now just let me check up on this bet of yours,’ he said at last. ‘You say we go up to your room and if I make this lighter light ten times running I win a Cadillac. If it misses just once then I forfeit the little finger of my left hand. Is that right?’

  ‘Certainly. Dat is de bet. But I tink you are afraid.’

  ‘What do we do if I lose? Do I have to hold my finger out while you chop it off?’

  ‘Oh, no! Dat would be no good. And you might be tempted to refuse to hold it out. What I should do I should tie one of your hands to de table before we started and I should stand dere with a knife ready to go chop de momint your lighter missed.’

  ‘What year is the Cadillac?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Excuse. I not understand.’

  ‘What year – how old is the Cadillac?’

  ‘