No. 325

Lex Orbis punched the keys of the calculator with a deliberate precision. Then, turning the device to face the shopkeeper, Orbis crossed his arms and waited.

The shopkeeper considered the number, then shook his head.

Orbis did not move.

The two stared at each other, fully engaged in a battle of wills.

Still, Orbis did not move.

The shopkeeper broke first, entering a new figure into the calculator. He showed it to Orbis.

Accepting with a slight nod, Orbis pulled his wallet from his pocket. After counting out the proper number of bills, he placed them respectfully on the counter.

He collected his prize, and left the store.

The shopkeeper was immediately on the phone. Speaking quickly, he gave instructions to the party on the other end of the line. Only then did he remove the cash from the countertop and put it in the till.

 

Orbis edged his way down the narrow street, mostly going straight, but having to dodge on occasion past traffic proceeding in the opposite direction. He made it perhaps two blocks before being interrupted.

Two large men stepped in front of him to block his path. “We’ll have it,” one said. The other was silent, but brandished a pipe.

Seeing a small bar to his right, Orbis smiled at the two goons. “I’m sure you have time for a drink,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t we step over here,” he continued, gesturing toward the patio of the bar.

His assailants said nothing. Pipe grunted his approval. Talky shrugged.

The group all moved toward the bar. Orbis made it close enough that a waiter asked him if he’d like a seat.

“I would,” he said, reaching out and snatching one up off the ground.

Pipe and Talky had no time to react. Pipe felt the chair hit his face while Talky, distracted by the sudden attack, was felled by a powerful kick.

Orbis placed the chair back in its proper position and thanked the astonished waiter.

 

The bell over the door rang, announcing an entering customer.

The shopkeeper didn’t look up. “We’re closed.”

Orbis crossed the store toward the shopkeeper. He placed his hand on the counter where he’d left the money.

The shopkeeper finally raised his head. His eyes grew wide and the surprised caused him to burst into a fit out coughing.

“Settle down,” said Orbis derisively. “It’s only me.”

The shopkeeper swallowed hard. “What can I do to help you?” he asked, cautiously.

Orbis studied the man for a moment before he answered. Finally, he spoke. “It was the last two hundred, wasn’t it?”

The shopkeeper, knowing the game was up, dropped his chin for “yes”.

Orbis once again found his wallet. He withdrew the amount and tucked it into the shopkeeper’s shirt pocket. “And we won’t be having any more trouble, will we?”

The shopkeeper shook his head vigorously.

“Good,” said Orbis. “That’s what I thought.” He made for the exit but, before leaving the shop, he turned back to the crooked proprietor. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know of a good bar around here, would you?”