Master/slave Series Episode 3: Soul Revers and Dollar Bills
The Silence is what kills me at night. When I’m trying to sleep, or at least not be awake. It’s been six weeks since my Master, my Love, and the holder of my Soul was taken from me. I still feel numb, I haven’t been to work in several weeks. My Master had redone his will, a couple of months before he was murdered. I had no knowledge of what changes he had made, at least until the will was read a month ago.
4 Weeks Ago: “I’m Harold Witwicke and I’ve been Jackson’s lawyer since we were both very young men. Really he was my first client out of law school. So I am pained that he was taken in such a violent manner. Nonetheless, I have one final duty to do, and that is to read his last will and testament.”
The Lawyer took a deep breath and a sip of water before he began. “This is the Last Will and Testament of Simon Jackson. It is with great regret if this is being read. It’s means I’m dead, and I’ve failed my mission.” Harold blinked. “This must be the new part. Or Jackson is played one last joke on us all.” There was some uncomfortable laughter. The Lawyer continued. “Ok, I’m joking. I have no idea why you are reading this. Anyways I’m dead, and you all want to know who will get what. Well I’m going to make it easy on all of you.”
Harold turned the page. I had no idea what was going to come next, needless to say, I was as surprised as everyone else.
“I’m leaving everything to the love of my life, Jack Douglass.” My jaw hit the floor, and then everything else went black. I woke up to everyone looking down at me. “Jack! Are you ok?” Rebecca asked me as I looked up at her. I blinked a few times and nodded. “Yeah, Yeah, I’m ok. I just wasn’t expecting that. Harold are you sure you read that right?” He nodded, and I sat on the floor stunned. “Read the rest of it.” I said as she walked back to her seat.
“My only condition is that Jack lives a life of happiness, and will at some point get married again.” He must have done that before we were engaged. “Mr. Douglass that’s it. Is there anything you want me to do?” I took a few breaths. “Yes, I want you to take half of the money and give it to his daughter. Any new money that comes in, is to be split between myself and her 50/50. It’s only right she gets it.”
I started to get up, when I saw Rebecca walking up to me. “Thank you. You could have taken it all.” I needed to sit in a chair. “Well, Yeah. I guess. But then I would have been an asshole, and you would have been without anything. That wouldn’t have been right.” I took another breath. “I don’t know what He was thinking. He should have never have given me everything.” I look over at Harold. “What is it?” I ask him. “Sir, there is a bit in here but I think I should read it to you when we have more privacy.” I nodded, and then said “Ok.” I stood up and faced the room. “Ok everyone, the show is over!”
I watched as people left the room. It took about fifteen minutes for everyone to leave. Once the room was empty it was only me and Harold. “Ok. Spit it out. What didn’t you want to say in front of everyone else.” The Lawyer cleared his throat as he handed me an envelope with Master’s handwriting on it. I opened it and started to read what the letter said. “Jack, I know this will come as a shock to you. However I wasn’t really joking about the going on missions thing. Only it was for myself, and not the C.I.A. You have to understand, I’ve been tracking a man that has been trying blackmail me for years now. I was pretty close to getting him last month, and only missed him by ten minutes. If you’re hearing or reading this, then I’m dead. And Augustus Silversmith is the one that killed me. Harold is going to give you a key. It’s to a room in the house that has always been locked. It’s yours now, never tell anyone, not even my own daughter about this room. I’m sorry Jack but you’re in the crosshairs now. Quit your Job, live off of the money. Move as often as you feel you need to do so. Never sell the penthouse. I love you, and I will do so forever.” I sat there in shock. Why didn’t he tell me?
I looked up and saw that Harold was holding out a key. I took it. I can’t remember there being any other rooms. I looked at Harold. “Did you know about all of this?” He shook his head. “I didn’t know about it, until I started to review the will. Two days after he had died. I was as shocked as you are now. I had thought about going to the police, but I knew that isn’t how Jackson would have wanted it.” I nodded, My Master had a thing about cops. He didn’t trust them, not even the dancing ones spelling out YMCA. So I had a room to find.
I put in my two weeks the day after the will had been read. I couldn’t work now anyways, my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Thankfully my Boss understood why I had to quit. In fact he was happy that I could quit. He had fired three people in connection with that horrible email I had gotten. All of them said that my relationship was a crime against nature and that Master getting murdered was “God” making things right. Well my Boss didn’t put up with shit like that, and fired them without severance. It sent shockwaves through the building, people understood now bigots weren’t welcome here, and another five people quit that week. I should mention that my Boss was wearing a rainbow t-shirt, and booty shorts when he fired them. I blinked when I walked into the office. I started laughing for the first time in a month. “Oh wow!” was all I could get out. I hadn’t been there for the firing. I think my Boss was trying to show his support. He has always been a bit of an extrovert and I think he really enjoyed the outfit, even though he had a wife and 2 kids in college.
I walked to my office and started to pack stuff up. I picked up a picture of my Master and I. It was from when we went on vacation to the Islands after I was collared. It was the best month of my life. The last year had been perfect, and I would never have changed any of it, but with one exception. My Master would still be alive.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, I knew I wanted to find Augustus Silversmith. I wanted to find him, and kill him. He took my happiness, my love, my life. He has taken everything from me, and now It was my turn to do it to him. I put the last of my things into the final box and picked it up to carry it out. The box was unexpectedly taken out of my hands. It was my Boss. “Hey Boss.” He chuckled. “I’m not your Boss anymore. You can call me Dan, and I hope you will consider me a friend as well.” I was taken aback. I’d never seen my Boss so not Boss like. “Of Course...Dan.” It felt odd not calling him Boss.
We walked down to my car in silence. I didn’t want to talk and I think Dan knew that I wasn’t forthcoming at the moment. I was lost in my thoughts, about what to do next. I knew Dan was married and had three kids. Two of them were in college and the last one was getting ready to graduate from high school. “Jack. I know you aren’t ready right now, and that’s ok. But when you are ready. My wife and I would like to have you come over for dinner. You don’t have to be alone.” He handed me his card. He flipped it over to show me that his home number was on it as well. “This has my home number and my cell number on it. In case you ever need someone to talk too, or with. I’ll drop everything. I have people that can catch what I drop.” I nodded. “Thank you. I will remember that. I’ll give you a call in a couple of weeks. Right now I just need to adjust to my new normal.” Dan smiled and then surprised me with hug. I never took him for the hugging type. I got in the car and drove home.
I walked into the house and it was dark and cold. The warmth just wasn’t here anymore. I might not sell this place, but I wasn’t going to be living here for much longer. I had already started to look for a new place, something smaller and not holding the ghost of my Master.
I walked into the kitchen to find there was dinner waiting for me. The note the chef had left said that I just need to put it in the microwave. So I did, and I ate the mac and cheese, steak, and baked potato. The Chef was going to have a job for life if he kept feeding me like this. I went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. I took my meal and walked into the TV room, turned it on and watched Netflix. I picked a show and just let it play. I didn’t really care what was on, I just wanted it for background noise. It was too quiet here now.
I was browsing ads for apartments on the upper east side of New York, when the elevator dinged. I got up to meet whoever was coming up. I was surprised to see who was standing in the elevator. “Dad was right. I’m a horrible person.” Rebecca was in tears as she walked into the living room. “I should have just accepted him. I don’t know why I’m such a horrible person! I feed the poor, and homeless. I volunteer at the women's shelter, and yet I can’t accept that my father prefers men over women. What kind of horrible person am I?” I was speechless, I didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t a horrible person, just a victim of her religious upbringing. I guided her to the couch and handed her a fresh tissue.
I let her cry for a bit, trying to be as comforting as I could while I trying to think of something to say to her. “I don’t think you’re a horrible person, and I know your father didn’t think that either. He was always talking about the stuff you were doing. He was proud of you. He did wish you were more accepting, but he understood why you believed the way you do. The good news here is that you can change, you can become better.” She looked up at me as if I had just shot her favorite horse, and least that is how I had interpreted the look. It might have been the smeared eyeliner. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I can be better about it. I can be more accepting.” She gave a half hearted smile. “Why don’t you stay here tonight. It’s rather late now. I don’t think it would be safe for you to go walking outside right now.” I helped her up off of the couch and lead her to the guest room. I then went back out and cleaned up my dinner and turned off the tv. It was time for me to get to bed myself.
The next morning I got up to the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. I thought for the briefest of moments that Master was home. I walked into the kitchen to see Rebecca cooking breakfast, Chef was watching from the other side of the kitchen. “Chef, why are you all the way over there?” He gave me a mischievous look, and answered in his typical french accent. “Because, It keeps me from taking that pan away from Rebecca, and smacking her with it!” Chef was passionate about food, and didn’t think anyone else could cook for shit. I nodded, and then I sat down.
I happened to look out the window when I saw a man with a camera in the other building. “Hey Chef, could you please close the blinds for the whole house.” The Chef only nodded and then left the kitchen. “Rebecca, don’t react to what I’m about to say. There is a man across the way over there with a camera. I’m closing the blinds to the whole apartment. Now I would like to think the best of people. However you’re making it rather hard for me at the moment.” She took a quick glance at the window. “I don’t have anything to do with that, and I don’t blame you for thinking it was me. I had a tabloid reporter come by my place a couple of days ago. I told him to buzz off.” I watched as the blinds closed and the man with the camera cuss as they blocked out his view.
“So Let me guess, you came here to get away from all the tabloid reporters?” Rebecca nodded, “Yeah. That was one of the reasons.” I took a few more bits of my breakfast. “What are the other reasons?” She put down her fork. “I got the money, and then I spent some of the money. Paying off bills and whatnot. I’m not sure what I should do with the rest of it.” I blinked. She was asking me for financial advice? “Oh, well. I would suggest you invest the money and get it working for you. Find a good financial consultant and manager to help you make those choices.” I watched as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Dad always just gave me an allowance. I tried to use my Black Card and it got declined the other day. I never knew it was one of his accounts.” Death affects us in strange ways sometimes, I thought to myself.
After we ate breakfast. I got up and went to take a shower, there was apartment hunting to do. I wasn’t going to tell Rebecca about this, she didn’t need to know about it. I started at the top of my list and made my way down it. None of the places seemed right to me. None of them felt right. I got home and collapsed on the couch. Maybe looking for a place right now wasn’t the best idea. I needed to focus on finding the asshole that murdered my love. There was a buzz at the intercom. I got up to answer it. “Hello?” I waited for a response. “Hello, this is Mike Stein from the New York Times. I would like to talk with you about your boyfriend.” Fuck me. “No. Go away.” I turned to go sit down. “I know where his murderer is staying at.” Fuck me twice. “Everything is off the record?” There was a pause. “Yes, everything can be off the record.” I didn’t trust this guy. “Ok, you can come up.” I pushed the button that allowed the elevator to come up.
I waited for the reporter to get off of the elevator. “What do you want Mr. Stein?” He was looking around in a bit of awe. I knew what that felt like coming in here for the first time. “Uh, Yeah, I’m just looking for the truth about Mr. Jackson’s death. I knew he was engaged to you, and that he took a lot of business trips for a guy that was retired.” Well he wasn’t wrong about that part. “Everything I say is off the record, unless I give specific permission is that understood?” The Reporter nodded, “I understand. Everything is off the record.” Well now that, that was understood. “Good, then you can leave. I don’t trust you and I will call you when I’m ready to talk.” I waited for him to turn around. “Ok. I’ll be waiting for your call.” He turned and the elevator went down. I had some research to do before I said anything.