Kindness Among Friends

By David Seed

Charlie’s Sportsmen’s Club is a long, two-story building on skid-row, housing a long bar, a poker room, a Chinese cafe, and a hotel across the top floor. Business depends on a subculture of alcoholics, gamblers, hustlers, shills, and those in need of a bed. Among them is Alexander Kyness, whose friends call him “Kindness”, a man with talent, who has chosen a life of obscurity.
In this odd, little world that ticks along to its own beat of greed, deception, and predation, Kindness’s stance of detachment is tested by a number of strange occurrences. More than a few times, unusual events and lingering mysteries ignite his curiosity and beckon him to apply powers of investigation for which he has an apparent gift. Kindness’s self-willed anonymity and aversion to personal entanglement may meet their match in Dolly “Little Doll” Grey, the bar manager with formidable wit and will who keeps order over the misfits and malcontents in this place where “something interesting always happens”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Western Grebe Publishing
• Release date: May 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370523993

David Seed

###About the author:David Seed was born August 15, 1931 in Minot, North Dakota. In his eleventh year the family moved to Dunsmuir, California where he graduated high school, believing himself to be a writer. In the fall of 1949 he started at the University of California at Berkeley and did his best to learn what he could of life. He managed to graduate in the spring of 1956 and continued to follow his calling, experiencing a chaotic life as both participant and observer. He is now an old man writing books in Oregon.

Book preview

Kindness among Friends

by David Seed

Smashwords Edition

~~~***~~~

Published on Smashwords by

~~~***~~~

Copyright 2007 by David Seed

~~~***~~~

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for buying this ebook. It is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you want to share this book, please purchase another copy to share. If you’re reading this book and didn’t buy it, please buy a copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

~~~***~~~

In memory of The Key Club

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About the Author

Chapter One

Lee Wong refills my coffee cup.

Be hot today, Kindness, he says.

It is hot already, I say.

Say...why everybody call you Kindness?

That is Charlie’s fault.

He say you a kind man? He nods for an answer.

Charlie not know a kind man if one falls on him, I say.

Hah! Lee Wong laughs. You funny man. He puts the coffee pot on its burner and goes back into the kitchen.

I start to think about what’s in a name, but the restaurant is too hot for thinking. I take my cup of coffee and head through the side door into the card room. A lo-ball game, two poker games, and a pan game are shilled up on life-support. Ernie Sales leans in the doorway of the cage.

Seat open, Kindness, he says.

I keep walking and push past the swinging door into the bar. It is empty, except for Little Doll washing glasses at a sink. She looks up and smiles at me.

I take the stool by the corner. Out of habit, I peruse the two murals on the wall behind the cash register. In the near one, Babe Ruth is at the plate. His right arm is raised, and he appears to be pointing at the fence. In the other, Jack Dempsey is in the ring. He is crouched with his gloves shoulder high. Ferocity shows in his eyes.

Numerous, framed photos of famous boxers and baseball players decorate the walls to justify the name of Charlie’s Sportsmen’s Club.

Little Doll comes over and starts wiping down the bar in front of me. I pick up my cup and take a sip.

It is too hot to drink coffee, she says.

When I get something hot inside, it makes me feel cooler on the outside.

You are as full of beans as Lee Wong’s chili, she says.

The card room door opens, and Preacher Jim eases into the bar.

Hi, Jim, I say.

How are you, Kindness? he says.

He drifts behind me and around the corner of the bar. He stops at the waitress station and rests an arm on one of the chrome handrails.

Gin and tonic? Little Doll asks. She picks up the gin bottle and reaches for a glass.

Please, Doll. He lays his money on the bar. Thank you, he says when she serves the drink. He takes a sip and holds the glass steady as he drifts back around me and into the card room.

Little Doll rings up the sale and comes back to wipe the bar. She looks at me, and I notice her big brown eyes.

Okay, she says. What is it this time?

What is what?

What are you thinking about? You are always thinking about something.

Names, I say. I am thinking about how names influence behavior.

Like do not play poker with a man called Doc.

That is a good one, I say.

And everyone likes Kindness, she says and flashes a crooked smile.

What the hell is going on? Charlie is out of his office and right behind me. His voice is explosive.

Damit, Charlie, I say. You can cause shell shock.

Hey, Ugly, soda water and ice. Charlie wags a finger at Little Doll, and she heads for the cooler.

I wish you do not call her that.

Ugly? She is ugly, he says. The truth never hurts.

You are not just mean, you are crude.

See. That does not hurt, he says. So when you coming back to work for me?

I am on sabbatical, I say.

What the hell does that mean?

It means he is a professor taking time off to do research. Little Doll sets a bottle of soda water and a glass of ice in front of him.

He is no professor, he is Army retired.

I am explaining sabbatical, she says.

So, what the hell are you two talking about?

How names influence behavior, I say.

Oh, yeah? Charlie frowns. Tell me about it.

Take Preacher Jim, for example, I say. Do people treat him differently because they call him Preacher Jim?

His name is my doing, Charlie says.

Your doing? I never hear that before, I say.

Little Doll rolls her eyes. Two truckers come in the front, and she goes to wait on them.

Yeah, making Jim a preacher is my idea, but that is over twenty years ago. Charlie twists the cap off the bottle, fills his glass and takes a sip. Back then, he is in business and has plenty of dough. He even helps me buy this place.

A silent partner? I ask.

Nothing on paper.

And look at him now, I say.

Hey, he does fine until his wife divorces him and his business goes belly-up. Then, the IRS gets involved. I have to help keep him out of jail.

You do take care of your friends, I say.

Charlie’s lips tighten for an instant. He puts a hand on the bar and rests a foot on the rail. He lives here rent free and gets paid to shill. That is the best I can do, he says.

So how is it your doing that he is Preacher Jim?

The IRS keeps ragging him. They figure he pulls a fast one.

Imagine that, I say.

I see an ad for the Holy Ghost Church which is selling ministries for nineteen ninety-five. I get Jim to fill out the form, and I pay the money. He gets ordination papers, a copy of the Creed, and a hymnal.

That explains the sign on his door, I say.

I tell him to turn his room into the Holy Ghost Church and have meetings. That way, he will be tax exempt, and the IRS can not touch him.

So, you donate the room and get a tax write-off.

Perfectly legitimate.

Do the IRS leave him alone?

Preacher Jim thinks so, but I think they just get tired of whipping a dead horse.

Does he hold meetings?

I hear Long-arm Lefty sometimes visits him on Sunday mornings for coffee.

I suppose that makes it legal, I say.

Hey, Ugly. Charlie waves at Little Doll. Get my friend Kindness another cup of coffee. He picks up his glass of soda water and heads back to his office.

Little Doll comes over and leans against the bar.

So, what’s in a name? she asks.

A story.

How much of a story? She leans closer.

Part of a story, I say.

Do you ever hear Charlie’s story?

I never have that pleasure, I say.

Charlie grows up on a sugar beet farm in the valley, she says. At twenty-one he hits town with a hundred dollars and an old pickup truck. He never goes back. He even inherits the farm and does not go back. He leases it out. What do you think of that? she asks.

I think Charlie has a lot of irons in the fire.

I wonder how he gets so much.

We all contribute, I say. You, me, Preacher Jim, and everyone else around here.

Ain’t that the truth, she says.

Two AC transit drivers come through the front door, and she goes to wait on them. Drunk Bob follows a few seconds later. He is already on automatic pilot and lands at the far end of the bar.

Tony D pushes the front door open and strolls in. He walks the length of the bar and sits at a comfortable distance from me, which means there is an empty stool between us.

Good morning, Kindness, he says in a whisper rough enough to scare little children.

Hi, Tony I say.

The usual, Tony? Little Doll asks.

A hard-boiled egg, but I will have a glass of beer instead of a shot, he says. It is warm out there.

A good day for a beer, she says. She serves him an egg on a napkin and goes to draw the beer.

Tony D turns to look at me. His eyes are gray smoke, and he shows his age by having to turn his body to face me.

It is warm out there, he says.

Yes, I say and nod.

Little Doll brings the glass of beer, Tony D thanks her, and she goes to do business with a deliveryman.

Tony, I say and lean toward him. How long you live around here?

Long time, Kindness. He taps the egg on the bar.

Do you remember when Charlie starts running poker games?

About thirty years ago, he says and starts peeling the egg. He talks Hiram Goss into letting him spread a game in the storeroom.

I suppose Preacher Jim plays back then.

Like a high roller. Tony D shakes salt and pepper on the egg, takes a bite, and follows it with a sip of beer. He is Mr. Jim Bell in those days. He owns tire stores, but they are gone now.

I hear he helps Charlie buy the place.

Back then, they are partners in the hotel, he says. He looks around and then leans toward me. They do business with young girls. His whisper is barely audible. They make a lot of money taking pictures. Charlie gets his friends to pose with the girls.

That is interesting. I watch him eat the egg.

The bar gets busy, but Little Doll still finds time to come over and lean against the bar in front of me.

What are you thinking now? she asks.

This bar is getting noisy, I say. I think I will go check out the games.

Do not forget to write, she says.

~~~***~~~

I pick up my cup and push into the card room. The first person I see is Preacher Jim. He is alone at a poker table in back. I am curious about the tire stores. I go over and sit at a comfortable distance from him.

He is playing solitaire and nursing the gin and tonic. I watch him play a black seven on a red eight. Then, he goes through the deck with no play.

I think I am beat, he says and gathers the cards.

Jim, I hear you know the tire business, I say.

Yeah, thirty years ago, he says and shuffles the cards. I am owner of three, tire stores, two out on East Twelfth, and one on Oak Street.

Must be a tough business? I say.

Not so bad, he says. He stops shuffling and deals another game. After the war, the government auctions surplus tires. I meet with the other dealers before each sale. We work out how to get the tires we want without having to bid against each other.

And the tax-payers buy their tires back.

Very profitable, he says. The game of solitaire starts to look promising. I buy a new car every year. I own a nice house, and I have a wife and two kids.

He pauses and studies the cards.

Red ten on the jack, I say.

Thanks, he says. I even take them camping. The last time I see them, the girl is eight and the boy is seven. He stops going through the deck. They are in their thirties now. I have no idea where they are.

He blinks, and a tear hits the table cover.

I am sorry, I say.

That is all right, Kindness. He looks up with wet eyes. I do not know what is important until I lost it. He wipes his face. Then, he finishes the gin and tonic and starts through the deck.

I think I will get something to eat, I say.

If they put me in another game, I will eat at the table, he says.

Take it easy. I head for the restaurant.

I am half way through a grilled cheese sandwich when Uba Uba comes in. He spots me at a booth and slides in opposite me.

Preacher Jim gets upset about something and has a kind of breakdown, he says.

Oh?

He starts crying, and Ernie Sales tells him to take the rest of the day off.

I talk to Preacher Jim a little while ago, I say.

Yeah?

I think he is feeling sad, I say.

That is what I think, Uba Uba says. He gets up and goes back into the card room.

I do not see Preacher Jim the rest of the day.

~~~***~~~

The next morning I get up early, because of the heat. It is dead summer, and the east wall of my room has no insulation. I go down to the restaurant.

Another hot day, Kindness, Lee Wong says. You want ice tea?

Sure, and scramble two with toast.

Okay, Kindness; first, I get ice tea.

Uba Uba comes in from the card room. He sits down opposite me.

Dead as hell in there, he says and jerks a thumb at the card room.

I can imagine, I say. Lee Wong brings the ice tea.

You eat, Spanish? he asks Uba Uba.

No.

Maybe ice tea?

No.

Lee Wong shrugs and heads back to the kitchen. I notice the swinging