Sam Axe "A Christmas Carol in July?"
"Juan another round por favor".
Michael held up his hand.
"Not for me Sam, don't you think you've had enough? That's your fourth in an hour".
"OK cancel the drinks Juan my mom here thinks I've had enough".
Michael got up from the bar stool turned to Sam with a wink of his eye saying…
"Won't Silvia be expecting you home?"
"Didn't I mention me and Silvia are over, she told me I was drinking too much, just after she had finished a pitcher of Marguerites, women, go figure. So I am back at my old apartment but don't worry Mikey, I have a hot date with a bottle of Jack Daniels and some old movies".
"No you didn't mention it Sam, see you Monday".
Sam's apartment several hours later.
The half empty bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the coffee table next to Sam's feet his glass almost empty, he leaned forward on the couch grabbed the bottle and filled the glass to the brim before slouching back. The TV channel was playing old horror movies. Sam strained to focus his eyes on the movie about to start…
"The Evil Dead, great this Bruce Campbell guy couldn't act his way out of a paper bag, he's so bad he's good".
Sam smiled to himself he had seen all the Evil Dead movies and although he would never admit it to anyone, he really enjoyed them.
A loud knock on the door made Sam get to his feet fast, pulling back the hammer of his 45 automatic, he opened the door. There was no sign of anyone, must have been in his head Sam thought as he closed the door. Turning around to go back to his couch, drink and movie, Sam stopped dead in his tracks, standing before him was an old drinking buddy from his special ops days. The problem was that his buddy had been killed in Iraq two years previously and Sam had attended his funeral, so he must be hallucinating, he certainly didn't believe in ghosts. He closed his eyes and then gingerly opened them the spectre was still stood in the same place.
"I knew I shouldn't have eaten that lobster".
Sam said out loud…
"It's too late for me Sam but you still have a chance to change, it's up to you".
Looking at his old buddy, Sam responded.
"OK Conrad, I know this is all in my head, most drunks get pink elephants, I get Paul Conrad. So what do you think I should change?"
"That Sam will be shown to you, you will be visited by three spirits…"
Sam jumped in with.
"As long as the spirits are Jack Daniels, Jim Beam and Glenfiddich I'll be very happy".
"Still the joker Sam, but seriously listen to what they say to you, don't make the same mistakes I did, eternity is a long time for regrets".
With that the spectre of Conrad vanished, Sam returned to his couch and picked up his glass and downed the contents in one gulp. Laying back Sam slipped into unconsciousness.
Sometime later.
Sam came round from his drunken stupor, the room was freezing cold, his head was banging like an entire army of trip-hammers were pounding his brain.
The TV picture crackled and went off as a woman dressed in a two piece woollen suit, wearing glasses, her hair tied in a bun, the look of the stereotypical librarian. Sam squinted at the woman as his eyes focussed he blurted out…
"Fiona what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm here to show you something from the past Sam".
Gliding over to Sam, who was now sat upright, the spirit of Fiona took his hand. In an instant they were no longer in Sam's apartment, the city in the Balkans they had been transported to was instantly recognized by Sam. He turned to the spirit and asked.
"What are we doing here, I know this place I lost three good friends here".
"Yes I know Sam and look over there".
The spirit pointed to an alleyway between two buildings, crouched down was a younger Sam Axe. He was taking a long drink from a canteen, the contents wasn't water but neat Bourbon. Four men approached from the right and entered the alleyway to join the younger Sam. The younger Sam exchanged words with the four other men and left the cover of the alley running to the opposite side of the street. Looking round to check for any dangers such as snipers, he motioned to the other men to come across the street, indicating it was safe. As the men left the alley they were half way across the street when three shots rang out, Sam watched as his friends fell to the ground dead, only one member of the four survived. Sam had not seen the hidden gunman, just bad luck he tried to convince himself.
Sam looked at the spirit complaining.
"Why did you show me that, that was rotten bad luck that killed my buddies, why did you make me relive it?"
The spirit frowned at Sam as she responded.
"Rotten bad luck was it Sam? The truth is if you hadn't been so full of booze you would have seen the gunman and your mates would still be alive, admit it Sam you were drunk and it wasn't the fist time you let your fondness for the booze affect your judgement. You need to stop making excuses or you may not live long enough to regret it, and more importantly those close to you may not live…"
The words were echoing in Sam's ears as he found himself transported back to his apartment, he reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels and then without taking a drink banged it down on the coffee table.
"Damn it Fiona what are you now my conscience?"