DEVIL KASHISH

She opened the door of her car."Do you have your flute," I asked.She nodded happily, reaching back into her car to retrieve the case and her own backpack. Backpack. College student. She was more apt to carry that backpack than a purse on most days, only abandoning it for occasions when we 'dressed up' to go to dinner or a movie.As she reached my side she was smiling still. "I didn't realize I would be required to play for my dinner, sir." Worse, far worse than that," I laughed back. "My fingers're numb from trying to play harp music on a banjo. Somebody had a bright idea..."Giggle. "You really are trying?" Ma'am," I said, "Not only am I trying, but in some cases I am succeeding." I gotta see this," she said."That may be the best approach: See, instead of hear," I said."If you were doing that bad, you wouldn't've mentioned it," she smiled.I unsheathed the key to my townhouse and let us inside, then shut and locked the door behind us.She sniffed. "New smell. Air freshener?" Potpourri,". Well to be truthful that profit barely paid my bills any longer and I started to fall behind in my own bills at home. Sometimes I was robbing Peter to pay Paul as the saying goes. Saturday night was still my best night as everyone from the surrounding towns still seemed to come here to have fun. There were many newer and nicer bars in the now bigger towns around us which didn't help business either.During one of those hot 1991 Saturday late summer nights the band was playing and the bar was semi-full. I sat at one end of the bar and checked out the crowd. I saw that army guy Keith standing out of uniform at the other end of the bar drinking alone. I had not seen him or his group of friends here for a year or longer.I asked Fred, my bartender, if he knew anything about that man standing at the other end of the bar. Fred told me he did as they had gone to school together he told me Keith was a highly decorated ex-army ranger with 12 years of service to his country. Fred told me Keith.
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