Friday, July 22, 2011

"COME TRY YOUR LUCK . . . " ~ As Absolutely*Kate tells the tale of THE VILLAGE SMITHY {Epic*sode 8}



COME TRY YOUR LUCK

{ Just ahead of back-in-time with
   THE VILLAGE SMITHY }

~ As regaled by Absolutely*Kate 

ALL PRIOR EPIC*SODES FLOW JUST BELOW


The room at the top of the winding staircase with the mahogany rail looked like a room at the top of a winding staircase. It had a beveled paneled door. It sported a matched pair of glistening gold numerals. It wasn't painted a loud colour, no, not by a long shot . . . but it regaled raucous sounds pounding it down -- from the inside out.
 
From the inside of the room at the top of the winding mahogany railed stairs at The Narragansett Social Club, one could see the sea. One could hear the sea, smell the sea, sense the sea. On notorious nights when moonlight waltzed her shimmer of a silver strand upon the upper reaches of high tide -- one did not see upon the sea what entered the tunnel from the channel on the shore beyond the boulders into the cold stone cellar of The Narragansett Social Club. Twas the darker nights that the skillful silent oarsmen selected to row their spirited cargo to the tunnel which held the hoard which seven smug smugglers had hauled on board. 
 
This night, when Liza followed her deceased mother's most fondest friend, Captain Horatio Bennigan, up the twisting secret staircase to the room beyond the room of the door marked with the gleam of golden numerals, waves pounded incessantly against the moonless shore. Liza heard the waves, as well as the raucous patrons of Room 33, careening their cries, their insatiable thirsts, their adamant orders, "More! Hurry good man! More!" 
 
Hustling Harvey Hooper, the boisterous bartender's lanky son, hurried the stairs two at a time to descend to the cellar, to reach the room where the rum and amber whiskey stalwartly stood by. The hurry of Harvey's hustle to turn the tides against Prohibition elbowed Liza's waist with careless haste of his ambition. Her silver beaded purse fell to the stair. Her uncle's curse harangued the air. Coins spilled. Tempers flared.
 
"Be damned you oaf! That's my niece you're accosting - I'll have your job you senseless scalawag!"
  
"Sir, I meant no harm. The casino crowd is rowdy. This is the only passageway through and I'm doing what I've been sent to do. Clear the way I say!"
 
"Why you impertinent upstart! On your downward dash, you thoughtlessly shoved my niece -- "
 
"I did not!"
 
"I saw it with mine own eyes you lying misfit -- "
 
"She lurched directly into my way -- "
 
Liza, never a lurcher, lunged her way into the heated hotheads' disarray. "Stop it you two! And Uncle, pull back that punch! Dismiss that glare! Don't you know it's bad luck to argue on the stair? Why, it goes against time eternal's  -- "
  
The seaworthy soul of the captain courageously cut in rather than reveal where the wrath of Liza's agitation was beginning to begin. Hot on the hunch for a night of winning hands he intended to remember precisely how to play, he was not about her tipping her hand to reveal why they had come here this particular day. Instead, he calmed his countenance, stooped down to help Liza scoop what she was gathering. His horizon-hardened gaze did not fail to glean the gleam from something shiny swiftly concealed into the flapper frock's ruffled elegance. Duly noted, he gruffly advised, "Lizzie Gal, don't be so loose with your mentions of time. Those of our lot must be cautious in our careful. Otherwise luck will wan, the wrinkles of best times traveled shall warp. We won't be worth the persistence of our future's existence." He paused, lowering his whisper more softly yet, "Darlin', understood?"
 
On the periphery, with a huff, Harry Hooper hustled by. He was not about to give those two his time of day.
~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, back in the serene village of Essex, ten years before this day came to be, time trailed forward and aft. Townsfolk did what townsfolk did. Aye, the living was good along the verdant village green. Jim Casey's brass band was attuned, and played on. Clarinets cleaved clarity and tubas resounded, deeper in base understandings of stanzas conveyed. On Main Street, that bustling thoroughfare of here to there, all was as it should be. The butcher's superb sense of humor ribbed his comrade when he swaggered his bluster through the door next door. He chuckled to challenge his buddy the baker's kneading profits from profiteroles; said he was rolling in the dough.
 
Just a shop away, caring not a flicker for their hearty har-hars and harrumphs, the cocksure candlestick maker consulted cunning charts. Eerily he chanted ~ 
 
"Her wish come true. Her luck fall through. 
Her wish come true. Her luck fall through. 
Her wish -- "

The sudden shadow in the doorway beneath the forest green awning blocked the evening dipping sun. The towering visage which held back that lambent light meant it could belong to only one. A strong voice of few chosen words impounded purpose. The mighty village smithy did assuredly stand.



"Candlestick maker, what do you know of where the new gal has gone? It's spoken in the village you saw her last. Tis said you taunted with your Wishing Candle lit. Tell me now of your chicanery. Tell me straight Chadwick. Dare you not leave out a bit."

~ ~

A decade hence, angling a pretty pre-determined gaze across the teeming gaming tables in the room beyond the room numbered lucky 33, Liza studied well the whirl of the roulette wheel. Something akin to inner will, bespoke within the simultaneous Essex village exchange. It gripped her tightened, held her precarious heart still. Sensing danger, yet feeling safe contrasted how she ebbed her flow to feel. Best concentrate instead on the gaming room. Here was a place she already knew the deal. And what was to conspire time after time forward playing out on upon portentious tables. 
 
Another sip of her gin, drinking in the scene, calmed her nerves and current reality drew her in. Again her eyes danced a merry waltz growing accustomed to the spins of the roulette wheel. Round it went with gleam, its sheen. Who knew where it stopped, who knew who would win. Ah, Liza knew this spin, where the tiny tell of the silver ball would rightly fall in. She'd been here during before and would come into profitable times here in yet again, but now, something sharply cautioned to pay much more attention to the present of the now of when.
 
"Why, that's her! Right there. Took up all the stair. And the grizzled gent at the poker table near her accused me of disrupting them. The brazen nerve! I tell you Al, it just ain't fair!" Harvey Hooper was still hot around his holler and collared the fellow he'd been introduced to at the dice table. His tirade would have continued but the other man's mind was adept at tuning out the extraneous, concentrating instead on what was relative to the matter.
 
Albert glanced the indicated gal up and down when she swiveled gold fringe of her violet beaded flapper frock 'round and 'round. She seemed to transcend time, such as her motions spun in lights fantastic. A quick glance secured time was on his side for the companions he had walked in with were otherwise occupied. The dashing Robert Gilette and the fair Fairbanks couple huddled deep into conversation at the red leather bar. Gin flowed. Frosty iced glasses clinked. He caught the characteristic tinkle of Mary's adoring laugh at some comment Douglas must've made. Yes, his time was his.
 
As Harvey Hooper huffed his puffery off, whining with chagrin, the taller fellow let his gaze meet even with that of the gal with the determined grin. Odd sensation, he sensed her somehow familiar with him. Bolstering his innate charm the more, Albert's hand waved to the gaming table before him with a flourish of his suited sleeve. He led with the line his calculations had long deduced led to accuracy of  luring the ladies in ~ 
 
"Come try your luck?"
 
"Pardon me?"
 
"Care to join me? Try out a roll of your luck?"
 
Liza smiled. She knew this scene. It had played well before . . . for both of them. "You mean, will Luck be a Lady this night?" Inwardly she grinned as lyrics of her favorite RatPack tune from times well forward cautioned her not to blow on another man's dice, no matter how relatively outstretched they appeared. "Lordy, lordy," she preened, as the man with uncountable stars in his eyes held her gaze and teased, and leaned and leaned. 
  
She'd challenged him with these lines before. It had aided and abetted him well then, it would again. Fully, she fluttered Maybellined lashes, "But good sir, I hardly know thee. And dare you think God will be in the details of a fair win?"
 
His chuckle rumbled the room. Pity most never recalled him for the charmer he could be, rather dusty tomes of scientific history. "Dear lady, you may call me Al. And remember this well ~ God does not play dice with the universe -- "
  
Robert Gilette turned from the bar and saw him first, naturally enamored with a pretty girl. This one had some sensuosity of the femme fatale about her. Interesting, quite interesting, but they needed to confirm the next day's sailing plans. Priorities were priorities after all with the yawl. Heartily, his stage voice boomed out, "Einstein there you are. Care to introduce me to this gorgeous gamblin' gal?"


  
RELAX. WHAT'S TO COME
IS NOT A ROLL OF THE DICE.
IT'S ALL IN THE CARDS.
IT ALWAYS IS YOU KNOW.
THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT 

SUCH A BIG DEAL.
  

TIL NEXT WEEKEND'S

RETURN TO THE VILLAGE SMITHY
ON THE VILLAGE GREEN
~ AND ~


THE NARRAGANSETT GAMBLING SCENE.
WHO WILL COME UP ACES?


Does it take an Einstein 
to figure this one out?

~ ~ ~

THE VILLAGE SMITHY
 
As regaled by ~ Absolutely*Kate  

   
  
 

Click here for lucky  Epic*sode 7 ~ "The Narragansett Social Club"
    
© 2011 ~ Author Absolutely*Kate
 in a small-town large state of mind
currently on ~ shore leave  


Virile Village Smithy ala Wolfrage
Lucky roulette wheel ala Kathy


Photo representation of the former Narragansett Social Club of the roaring 20's
 
 where Absolutely*Kate presided back-in-time for "shore leave".  
Now dubbed the Ocean Rose Inn, it sits proudly at the helm of Ocean Road
keeping good watch upon the sea.




4 comments:

Blaze McRob said...

I believe I know who will come up the winner next week. Call it a hunch. :D

I definitely enjoy where this is going, was, and is. All in sweet time, I suppose.

Blaze

writercrjames said...

Hi Kate - just checking in. Looks like your smithy is strong arming his way through village life. As for the winner -It's elementary my dear kate -least ways I thunk so!

KjM said...

As always, fun.

This tapestry will be quite the picture when fully created - and the thread that denotes Liza...a golden blaze appearing and disappearing, now here, how there.

Wonderful stuff - and I love "...On Main Street, that bustling thoroughfare of here to there..."

MUch, much fun.

ABSOLUTELY*KATE said...

Well, well, well ~ Look what cool breezes of time lords were blown in AT THE BIJOU ... 3 of my fave go-out-on-a-limb-in-time writing gents.

Grace o'thanks from both Liza and myself in the then and now Blaze the physicist, Colin the muser, and Mr Mackey the lit wit I revere. Does this heart's mind good to know you're watching the weave ... tapestry indeed. (smile, large)

~ Absolutely*Kate, enjoying your visionaries-shared wheresoever I find them ... and with Liza, tis but a hop, skip, jump of a wish away

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