The Loan

Emily found herself in a most difficult spot.  One she knew she couldn’t get out of.  She had tried her best to repay her debts and to make amends, but everything had gone wrong.  She took small gasps of air, trying to conserve the little she had left.

She was in way over head.  Literally.

***

She sat at a dingy corner bar, one she had never noticed before. She ordered a drink with the last of the money she had on her, along with the last of her dignity.  She had lost everything at the casino, and owed everyone she knew money.  She had been down this road before, but never this far down.  She supposed she could just take off and leave all of her debts unpaid. Her family and friends really should have known better than to lend her anything anyway.  She knew she couldn’t do that.  She might be a degenerate gambler, but she still had some semblance of humanity to her.  She was just about to leave, when the first of them walked over.

“Looks like you’ve had a rough night, missy,” the stranger said.  “Would you mind if I bought you another of whatever you’re having there?”

“Thanks, but no.  I was just on my way out,” Emily said.

“Nonsense.  Lemme buy you a drink. I promise, I don’t bite,” he said with a smile and a wink. 

Emily smiled.  He looked like a nice enough man, and old enough to be her father.  He was just trying to cheer her up, and she could use some cheering up.

“Ok, thanks a lot.  It’s been a hell of a night and I could use another.  It’s a vodka tonic with lime.  Or something that looks vaguely similar to a lime.”

“Terry, get – err, what’s you name anyway, Miss?”

“Emily.  My name is Emily”

“Terry, get Emily a vodka tonic and try to find a lime that isn’t moving this time,” the stranger said.

After the drink arrived, she sat and talked to James.  He told her that his family owned the bar.  “Murphy’s” it was called, apparently.  She hadn’t noticed the sign when she came in.  He explained that Terry was the usual bartender, but he filled in on occasion.  He introduced her to almost everyone else in the bar, all of whom were Murphy’s.  Her mind reeled as she tried to match each face with each name:  Patrick, Dennis, Kevin, John, Mark, Michael.  There were Juniors and Seniors in there as well.  She could keep only three straight in her mind:  James, who had approached her, Terry the bartender, and Kelly, the only other girl in the establishment.

“Is there some sort of a rule that you have to be a Murphy to come in here,” Emily joked, downing her 3^rd vodka.   

“No, no,” one of them laughed.  “But we don’t let just anyone in.  You have to earn your way in.  You have to be worthy.”

As the night went on, Emily felt herself beginning to loosen up and share her troubles with the clan.  They seemed understanding, and best of all, willing to help.  She felt like she had known them all of her life.

“It must be nice to have a family that’s so close,” she said to the group.  “You all seem to really have each other’s backs. “

Emily swore she caught sideways glances between each of the family members, but she knew she couldn’t trust her senses.  She was how many vodka tonics deep and couldn’t be certain of what she saw.  She shrugged it off to paranoia and spending too much time with the underbelly of humanity, rather than with decent people.  Like the Murphy’s.

***

She woke up the next morning in her apartment, unsure of how she had even gotten home.  She stumbled out to the kitchen to get some water, and saw the cash stuffed envelope on her countertop.

“What the hell,” she muttered out loud.

She picked it up and counted the contents.  $10,000, all in hundred dollar bills.  She looked around her to see if this was some sort of a joke.  She looked out the window, and all she saw was her beat up Toyota sitting in its parking spot.  There was a note on the counter that read:

“Lovely to meet you last night, Emily.  So glad we can help you out of your jam.  Here’s the cash to pay your family and friends back. 

We’ll be in touch. “

-The Murphy’s

She replayed the events of last night in her mind, but could only get sketchy fragments:  Drinks, laughing, crying, hugs, drinks.  She couldn’t remember asking for money.  But she didn’t remember getting home, so she could hardly trust her senses.

She took a quick shower and divided the money into separate envelopes, one for each person she owed. 

She was paid off in full.  She had never felt so free.

She drove to the corner where she was certain the bar was, but there was nothing there except a vacant lot with twisted fencing keeping people out.  Signs reading:   “No Trespassing” and “Violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law”.

Emily stared at the concrete slab and fenced in lot; long enough for an elderly gentleman to ask if she needed directions.  The passerby looked very familiar, but Emily could not place him.

“I must be on the wrong block,” Emily said nervously.  “I’m looking for ‘Murphy’s’, it’s a bar I went to last night.  I thought it was on this corner, but I must be mistaken.”

“Murphy’s,” the stranger said.  “You’re a day late and a dollar short, my dear.  Murphy’s was here.  And Murphy’s burned down 20 years ago.”

He started to walk away, but she stopped him. 

“I can’t help but think we’ve met somewhere before,” Emily said.  “Do I know you?”

The passerby’s eyes twinkled and he smiled.  “Oh, it’s possible, missy.  My mind isn’t what it used to be.”  Emily felt uneasy, but couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Sorry, but can I ask you one more question,” Emily inquired.  “D-do you know how it burned down?  Were people injured?”

“They never could say.  The whole family went up in smoke with it, or so the myth goes – they never found any bodies, though.  If you ask me though, it’s better off.  They were a nasty lot.”

The man walked away and left Emily standing in front of a vacant lot that had just given her $10,000.

***

Weeks passed.  Months passed.  Emily hadn’t gone back to the casino’s and was trying to put the “Murphy’s” situation out of her mind.  She got through each day by telling herself that it wasn’t “Murphy’s Bar” she had bellied up to.  It must have been some other hole in the wall dive bar.  As for the money, she couldn’t explain that one away.  She did pay everyone back, though, and even had a little left over for herself.

After the 3^rd month, Emily received a knock on her door.

It was late and she looked through her peephole to see who was calling on her.  No one was there.  She walked away and the knock came again, louder this time.  She opened the door, annoyed at neighborhood kids playing a prank. 

Standing before her was the entire Murphy clan. 

“How?  Wha-,” she stammered, as they entered her apartment.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about us, Emily,” one of them said with a smile.  “We had a deal. Remember?”

“You should sit down, honey,” another said.  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Emily stepped backwards into her chair and sat down with a thump.  Her eyes, darting from one face to another.

“How have you been, Emily?  Things going well?  I hope you’re staying away from those casino’s.” The voice was familiar.  She remembered James.  He was the older gentleman who had a wink in his smile, the one who was old enough to be her father. He had aged considerably from what she could remember.

“I’m..I’m doing well, thank you,” Emily said, with a forced smile. 

“Good.  Good.  We’re glad to see that we could help. Unfortunately, we have come here to discuss the arrangement that was made 3 months ago today.  Such unpleasantness, I know.  But business is business.”

“Arrangement, what arrangement?  I tried to find your bar…it’s nothing but a vacant lot.”  She squirmed in her seat.  “I asked around and they said the bar had burned down 20 years ago.”  She then remembered the old man she met on the street that day, the one who looked so familiar.  It was James.

“Tsk, tsk,” one of them answered.  “The first rule of ‘Murphy’s Bar’ is that you don’t talk about ‘Murphy’s Bar – did I get that right?”

“No.  You’re quoting ‘Fight Club’, I heard one of the kids talk about it as they passed over us.  The point is the same though.”  That was Terry, she remembered him as the bartender.

“Regardless. A deal is a deal.  It’s time to pay up.”

A piece of paper was handed to her, the bottom of which contained her signature – sloppy and slanted – but her signature nonetheless.

“I don’t understand,” said Emily.  “What deal?”

“Read the contract, you stupid girl.”

Emily looked back down at the paper, trying to read the tiny writing.  She could only make out one paragraph in full.  But that was enough:

“…herein states that the below signee has agreed to accept the sum of ten thousand US Dollars.  In exchange for this sum, the below signee agrees to the terms of the contract herein, which designates that the signee must forfeit their human body to Murphy, Inc., 90 days from the date on this contract…”

Emily shook her head and looked up at the congregation in front of her.  “What does this mean?” she asked?

“Well, my pet, it means – in a nutshell – we own your ass.”

“Here’s the Cliffs Notes version. You came in to ‘Murphy’s’, talked to all of us fine folk and, after some negotiation, agreed to the contract.  You see, we can’t be free until we find someone to take our spot.  You agreed to our most generous offer.  Pretty simple, really.”

“But, but, but I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk and I was depressed.  Surely this couldn’t stand up in any court…,” Emily broke off, realizing just how stupid she sounded trying to reason legalities with immoral ghosts.

***

She found herself in over her head, literally.  Buried in a box under the vacant lot of ‘Murphy’s Bar’.  She wasn’t sure who was going to take her body over, but she knew her air was quickly running out.  Screams would mean nothing, and she had played her last hand.