Pity and a Shame

Chapter 4

Paynter had barely arrived back and begun to start the wedding arrangements before his bank called to tell him he was in an overdraft position. The news stunned him; it was impossible! There was hundreds of thousands of dollars in his accounts. Immediately, he contacted the hotel in Germany only to learn that Frau Armitage had checked out the same day Herr Gough had left.

Paynter dropped the phone and slumped back in his chair. It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake! This was Gwen, the woman whom he loved... the woman who loved him!

For weeks, he tried tracking her down, hiring investigators and making ill-advised loans to pay for their services, finally, his debt was too large to ignore and Paynter found his credit exhausted without results. His health began to fail and he let his appearance go, growing long hair and a scruffy beard. Paynter began to find solace in alcohol.

When the bank seized his house, he packed what few belongings he felt he might need and left the city, hitchhiking his way to any place he could beg a ride.

For the next ten years, Paynter drifted aimlessly, taking whatever work would provide him with enough money for his bourbon. On more than one occasion, he found himself in some town jail on a vagrancy charge, thankful for a small meal and a warm bed.

Most places just shooed him out of town the following day, not wanting the bother of the necessary paperwork. Waking from one of his groggy nights, courtesy of another town jail, Paynter found a small, neatly dressed man waiting for him in the station office.

His life was about to take another macabre twist, one that would provide him with property and a small income. Some forgotten relative on his mother's side had left a small farm in a small town to the last remaining member of the family and the enterprising little man had spent considerable time and effort tracking Paynter down to deliver the good news.

He presented his card as introduction, briefly explained his mission and convinced Paynter to sign the necessary documents for release of the inheritance. Once Paynter was registered as the farm's owner and the terms of his small income settled, his old database kicked in and was updated to reflect his status.

The post office forwarded a small package of previously undelivered mail, held under the direction of his old bank manager for just such an eventuality. He moved into the old farmhouse, content to leave everything just the way he found it, set up a place for his bourbon and continued his aimless existence.

Sitting on the front porch, bourbon close at hand, Paynter finally got around to reading the mail, among which was a separate envelope containing several postcards. He read the first one and choked back a sob, letting the rest fall in a scatter to the ground. It was from Gwen, dated six years previously.

In a few carefree words, she informed him that she and Mickey were putting a dent in his money and loving every minute. She wrote that they hoped the wedding preparations hadn't cost him too much and signed it, 'Tee hee, Gwen'. That night, Paynter read them all, drinking himself unconscious.

He woke uncertainly, a shaft of warm sun from a small window beside the fireplace toasting the lower half of his face. He sat forward, the huge ball in his head following a second later and crashing against the inside of his forehead prompting a loud groan.

The last postcard rested on his lap and he picked it up and read it again. The postmark showed that it had been written only one and a half years ago and was mailed from, of all places, Wiesbaden. Unlike the others, however, this message conveyed a subtle regret coated in desperation and topped with anger. Obviously the money had run out, or almost, and the taunting had become hollow; he wondered how Mickey was taking it.

Paynter shuffled through the cards and selected the one with the picture of a kitten and Gwen's joke about how it resembled Mickey, staggered to his feet and stuck it on the mantle, tossing the rest into the hearth and setting them afire.

The smell curled up into his nose as he leaned on the mantle watching the flames and his stomach shifted uncomfortably. Paynter barely managed to reach the front porch before his anger, hurt and years of disappointment roiled up in a violent expulsion leaving him weak, exhausted and sobbing.

Author's Note: Apologies for the short chapter. It just happened to break this way.