A Real Charmer

by Jeff Cates

Author’s Note: This was the first story I sold in the U.S. I’ll be adding more published stories if readers ask to read more. Please let me know your thoughts on this.

Israel Ramirez wasn’t born with a face that would turn a woman’s head. Maybe that’s why he ended up selling used cars at some hole-in-the-wall dealership sandwiched between more interesting parts of the city.

The old woman was dressed in her Sunday best when she got off at the bus stop nearby. He noted the cane as she stopped to look longingly at a white ‘02 Oldsmobile. The window sticker said $6,999.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am, I’d be honored if you’d allow me to help you. My name’s Israel Ramirez.” He shook her white-gloved hand. Her grip was not very firm.

“My name’s Alfilimena Johnston, but you can call me Alfie, young man. Robert’s been gone seven months now, and I miss him terribly when I wake up. I figure it’s time I used the money he left to buy a car, so I can stop by and visit him each day.”

Israel expressed his sympathy and asked all the polite questions as he steered his mark toward more expensive cars in the lot, but when it was over, she asked if she could take a closer look at the white Oldsmobile.

“Are you sure you want to look at that car?” he said.

“It’s the only one I can afford with the $7,000 my dear Robert left me.”

Israel took a deep breath and looked into the old woman’s eyes. “That’s the best car on the lot. I’d been planning to buy it for my own mother before the stroke.” Tears formed in his eyes. “Look, I could get fired for telling you this, Alfie, but my boss will take $6,700 for that car. You’re a wonderful woman, and I want to see you get a good deal. If I sell you this car, I’ll have the money to pay for Mother’s medication for another week. The doctor says she won’t live long without it.”

“Israel, I want to pay the full price. You can use the extra money for your mother’s needs.”

“God bless you, Alfie. You must be the angel I was praying for. But my boss will get that extra $299 unless you give me the money in advance.”

“I’ll have to catch the bus back to the bank.”

Israel smiled. “I’ll drive you.”

***

Israel’s boss couldn’t believe somebody bought that old clunker for $6,000 in cash. Both of them smiled as he gave Israel his $200 commission.

***

With $1,200 in his pocket, Israel made a collect phone call.

“I’m sorry, honey, but that slavedriver wants me to go to the big city to pick up another car tonight. I know, I know. But with the extra $25, you can buy yourself a nice dress.

“I love you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

***

The Pussycat Lounge was only a four block drive from work. Israel patted the wad of cash and stuffed his wedding ring into another pocket before he walked in out of the dark. A couple of the working girls were seated on stools, but he spotted a fresh face with a short black skirt sitting in a dimly lit corner.

Israel ordered a seven and seven and sat down at a table where he could watch the stranger. After ten minutes, he walked over and said, “Excuse me. My name’s Anthony, and I just had to tell you something. Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Look, you’re not really my type,” she said.

Israel took a chair before she could say no. “You’ve got me completely wrong. You’re sitting at the table where I asked the love of my life to marry me. We would have been married five years on this very day if the cancer hadn’t taken her away from me.” He stopped to blink back tears before he continued. “I come here once a year to remember and drink to forget. When I saw you sitting there, I thought she’d come back to me. She was so beautiful, just like you. I can’t believe there are two of you. She had the same platinum hair, the same sunglasses, and even wore a pretty black dress like you’re wearing.”

Israel talked for the better part of the night using his most polished lines. Waving the bartender to bring over a couple fancy drinks, he made a show of tipping him five bucks. He wished the woman drank more quickly, but she just sipped her drinks as they talked into the wee hours of the morning.

She picked up her purse and leaned forward to see the clock. “I’d better get home before the sun comes up. Thanks for the drinks, Anthony. I’m sorry to hear about your wife. I’d better go home.”

“I could drive you,” Israel suggested.

“It’s only four blocks away. I can walk.”

“I’d like to walk you home. If nothing else, let me do it for the memory of my dear wife. You look so much like her, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t know you’d made it back safely.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

Israel stood up. “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you walk home alone on these dark streets.”

“Oh, alright, but it’s really not necessary.”

He accompanied her out of the bar. The street was pretty dark except for an occasional lamppost. The stretch two blocks ahead by the Memorial Gardens had no lights at all.

As they walked down the darkened street, the town looked deserted. Israel glanced back over his shoulder to see if anyone was behind them as they approached the entrance to the cemetery. Untrimmed bushes grew next to the bus stop. As they reached it, he pushed the woman down onto the bench, kissing her.

“No!” she screamed.

“Come on, honey. You know you want it,” Israel declared as he reached for the hem of her skirt.

Fumbling in her purse, there was a glint of chrome, a muzzle flash, and a deafening explosion.

Israel ran like a frightened jack rabbit, zigzagging up the street as bullets ricocheted off the pavement around him.

Up ahead, the headlights of a car illuminated the dark as it turned onto the street.

Israel ran out into the lane, waving his arms frantically. “Help!” he shouted.

Alfie couldn’t wait to get to the cemetery that morning. When the young man appeared in her headlights, it was a shock to her heart when she stepped on the brakes, and they didn’t work. It was a bigger shock for Israel.