bargain

Mr. Hortense Bargain checked his pocket watch, whose minute hand pointed exactly at the Roman numeral XII. Excellent. He was on time. He had no appointments or obligations at this point, yet his life was meticulously laid out like a clock- never missing a beat. He breathed in the fresh morning air. A stiff, brown derby rested upon his brow, straight as if his head was a board. He straightened his suit coat and tucked away his pocket watch in his left breast pocket. He brushed his coat off and wiggled his thick grey moustache which hid his lips and started out his morning stroll to the coffee shop. Mr. Bargain's anal punctuality was often attributed to his running the local town bank for forty-nine years. Others in the town attributed forty-nine years of a smooth running bank on Mr. Hortense Bargain. He was now comfortably retired. The first year and a half after he retired were the worst. His completely laid out work week became an abyss of doubt and indecision of what the day, week, or year would bring. Hortense lived without friends. Rather, the entire town was his family. He knew all of their whereabouts from whose son was getting married to when the old crone across town had finally decided to spend her life savings on a humble new car. Yes, all of life's major decisions are monitored by money, and solely Hortense monitored all of the money in town. He was a hard, stiff, cold, man but he harbored no feud with anyone in town. In fact, everyone in the town looked up to Mr. Bargain with great respect. He had never, for as long as anyone could remember, had a wife or any mistress, as if one could exist who would blend in with the well-oiled machinery that ran him everyday of his life. He lived not in complete loneliness, though. Numbers where his friends. They had guided him every day of his life. They always made sense when people did not. They were reliable, and truthful, they were comfort, but at this point in his life, numbers told him that he was getting too old to manage banks and balance books any more.

His life was daily followed by a schedule. Wake at 7:00 AM sharp. Leave the house at 8:00 AM. Anyone who wanted to find him knew exactly when and where to find him. The time was now ten minutes after 8:00. He again tucked the pocket watch into his breast pocket followed by a thin gold chain. He arrived daily at Mrs. Emmeth's coffee shop at 8:15. Right on schedule, as usual. Marie probably already set his place and prepared his favourite blend in expectation of his visit.

Mr. Hortense bargain stopped in his tracks. Standing before him was a much shorter young man. The young man stood directly in Bargain's path, obviously wishing to confront him. Hortense removed from his right waist pocket, a pair of spectacles which he raised in front of his eyes to recognize the lad. Shaking his long, thick moustache, he began, "Why, hello, uh..." Words failed Bargain as he squinted which unmasked several hidden wrinkles in his forehead. The youngster carried for his head a toaster!

"Good morning, sir", spoke the toaster in an almost sarcastic Eddie Hascal tone. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me."

"Your head... A toaster."

"Yes, I know. Anyway, I was just setting out on my own..." Continued the toaster, "and wanted to know what to do first."

"How is this possible? By battery? Are you a robot?"

"Because I don't have a car, so I can't really get too far yet."

"Where did you come from, boy?"

"The kitchen. Do you suppose maybe I could take a bus?"

"Not just now," gruffed Mr. Bargain wiggling his moustache like a fuzzy grey inchworm, "Where did you originally come from?"

"The department store. But then, where would I charter a bus to? The city?"

"The department store, indeed! Where are,... Who are your parents?" Bargain grumbled. He frantically checked his pocket watch. The time was 8:14. Bargain now breathed heavier. A single drop of perspiration formed on his forehead.

"Parents? I haven't any. Maybe New York would be nice. Lots of people there, so I hear."

"An orphan, eh? Are you sure you're not a robot?"

"A robot?" Pause. "Yes, I think I should like to see New York. Would you take me there?"

Mr. Bargain fumbled his pocket watch again to check the time. He became extremely impatient. "I'm late!"

"Hey!" The toaster exclaimed with a shout, "You haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?"

"I'm late," Hortense repeated, not really acknowledging the toaster. "Sorry boy-toaster, uh, whatever. I must leave."

The toaster watched, curling his bottom lip as Mr. Bargain pushed him out of his way and ran to the coffee shop, stuffing his watch into his pocket again. The toaster noticed something strange about that pocket watch, now. As it glinted in the morning sun, the toaster realized that this shiny chunk of metal was this man's entire glow and life force. It had been the man's glowing candle through all of life's dark times. His veins pumped blood from a watch, not a heart.

An impetus forced the toaster to follow him. He blasted into a full sprint to catch up with him. Toasterhead, on his clumsy new legs tripped over a pebble as he neared Mr. Bargain. He tumbled into a roll and knocked Bargain over in the process. They both lay on the ground trying to figure out what just happened.

"I am extremely sorry, sir.", the toaster said again in his sarcastic, yet meaningful tone. "I guess I'm just not used to these new shoes. I'll just be on my way, now. Sorry again, I've got to be running now."

"Damn kids!" Mr. Bargain raised himself up to his feet, and brushed himself off, straightening the bottom rim of his jacket. He shook his whiskers back and forth. He stepped into his morning scheduled coffee appointment which had already been cut a few minutes short. The locals of the area that inhabited the coffee shop every morning were completely ignorant to the fact that Bargain had arrived a couple minutes late, yet he blushed shamefully with embarrassment. Mrs. Emmeth served him his coffee and talked for a while about small news which both of them already knew, each being grand central for the small town gossip.

Bargain's thoughts eventually crawled back to this morning's confrontation with the toasterhead boy. "Damn kids!" He again mumbled. His thoughts organized themselves until they arrived to what he believed to be an amusing, or at least interesting anecdote.

"Marie," Bargain sternly hollered across the room, detaching Mrs. Emmeth from another customer's witless gibbering. "You will never guess what some unruly youngster just did to me a few minutes ago." He mumbled under his breath, yet making sure that Mrs. Emmeth still listened. "When I was a kid, we had a little discipline. Everything was done in a neat, timely fashion and order was maintained." Mr. Bargain's sight was fixed on a position two inches past his face, where nothing could be seen, save a few dust particles that floated in the morning sunlight like little astronauts.

"Well," he raised his voice a little, "This boy had a toaster on the top of his head. I clearly asked the boy," he cleared his throat and spoke in an overly-innocent tone, "What his name was, and what his business was up and about-what with a toaster on his head and all. And you know what his response was?" He turned his head to another local yokel who was now rather interested in the story. "He growled at me, and threatened to do bodily damage to me. Well, I should have just let it go, but rather, I sternly stated to him 'I think not!' Then he growled at me again and knocked me down like a runaway freight train." Bargain shook his head, trying to act disgusted. He took another sip of his coffee and wiggled his moustache. He continued, now noticing that his story was growing in popularity. "Why, if I were a few years younger, and if not for this back, I would have taken him out and shown him what-for." The bells attached to the front door of the coffee shop jingled announcing the arrival of Ed Tarrenton.

"Hi, Ed!" Marie yelled across the room, breaking herself away from the present conversation. She carried with her a freshly brewed pot.

"A little late, today, eh? Ed?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, What time is it anyway?"

"TIME!" Bargain yelled so loud that everyone in the coffee shop drew back a little. Hortense felt his breast pocket. His watch was gone. He quickly patted himself at every pocket location on his wardrobe. His watch was gone. He jerked his coat from his chair. He quickly checked all of it's pockets as well, he didn't need to though. He knew exactly where his watch was. That toaster-head freak-boy had it. His watch was gone.