Free Bookmaker, The by Chris Fraser Page A

morning. “But we really should be getting down to brass tacks. Don’t want to be keeping you here forever; I’m sure you have many pressing concerns back home.”
    Even with all th e sleep the day before, I still felt like shit. “I agree, let’s get some work done today,” I said, placing the tape recorder on the coffee table between the two of us.
    Since Preston had brought up the topic of the duration of my stay, it seemed a good time to broach the subject.
    “Actually, I can stay as long as necessary. This is the slow time of year for me, and when business picks up, all I need is a phone. And I got to tell ya, I am really enjoying my stay so far. You guys have all been great and your house and the town are amazing. And you were right, the guest house is very comfort—”
    Preston held his hand up signaling me to stop, grabbed his cane and winced painfully as he pulled himself to his feet, “Well, all right then, good to hear, son, you can stay as long as you like. It’s not like we don’t got the room. In fact…here’s how we’ll do this from here on out. You are no longer a guest, now you’re extended family. My house is your house. Hell, Matador’s been here going on thirty years now, no sense in him leaving and no sense in you leaving anytime soon either. I’ll tell you what, after were done here today, we’ll go down to the garage and you can pick a car to use—call it yours while you’re here. Shit, I can’t drive ‘em anymore anyways.”
    “Thanks , Preston, that sounds great. I really appreciate it. You’ve been very generous,” I said, shaking his hand.
    “ You want to pay me back? Go on over to the bar and pour me a Red Label.” I made his drink and placed it in his hand; he took a quick sip. “Not bad son, not bad.” We settled in to get to work. I pushed record and this time, he didn’t stop me.
    “Now, before we get started , let me preface with a few questions that I think are prudent to our little arrangement. I feel if I know a few things about you, I can find out if you’ll maintain an open mind about what I have to say. And it might help me in how I present the information I am about to impart. Which by the way, I have never gone ‘on the record’ as they say, with anything I am about to tell you.”
    “Please, go ahead,” I said , stopping the tape.
    “Would you consider yourself a Republican or a Democrat?”
    A rather innocuous start I thought. “Well, I don’t consider myself particularly political, but I am from Orange County California, the last bastion of Conservatism in California.”
    “Good, good , that’s what I wanted to hear. Question number two: are you a Catholic?”
    Now I was getting a little puzzled , but I played along. “I’m not very religious either, but definitely not a Catholic. I guess I would be considered a non-practicing Christian.”
    “All right, not ideal, but that’s fine , and lastly, do you believe in the death penalty?”
    “The Bible says an eye for an eye, so do I,” I answered , and quite cleverly I thought.
    Preston let out a quick laugh, “I thought you said you weren’t very religious , now you’re quoting Matthew 5:38?”
    “I’ve caught a few highlights over the years,” I answered , trying to be glib, but was intimidated by his knowledge of the Bible—although he could be making it up, I wouldn’t know.
    “Well , son, I am very pleased to hear this. I think we’ll work together just fine. I knew there was a reason I chose you,” he said, easing back into the leather cushions.
    “Now, if I can ask you a question?” I proffered. “Why do you need to know this seemingly random information?”
    “In due time, son, it will all make sense in due time,” he said in a tone indicating this part of the conversation was over. “Now, are you ready to hear what I got to say?”
    “That’s what I’m here for,” I answered, turning on the recorder and preparing myself for anything.
    “Well, all right