Sampson's Leg

 

Sampson’s Leg (a dialogue)       "Well, Sampson, pleasure doing business with you, as always. Listen, I’d like to talk to you about something, if you’ve got the time. Thought I’d order a couple drinks from room service."          "Sure, Frank, I’m in no all-fire hurry. Let’s hoist a couple and chew the fat."       "What’ll you have?"       "Oh, just a Bud for me, thanks. They got Bud? Most places have Bud."      "Hi. I’d like to have a couple of drinks sent up to room 302....OK...A Budweiser and a scotch...Do you have black label?...Gold would be great...OK, thank you.       "They’ll be right up. Do you remember ten years ago when the heat was on in San Diego and we had to meet at that hotel in Phoenix and we ended up sharing the room for the night?"       "Christ. Was that ten years ago already? Sure I remember it."       "That was exactly ten years ago two days ago."       "That’s some memory you got, Frank."         "Well, I had reason to remember. See, I had known you for about five years at that time. And in all my dealings with you I had never even suspected you had a prosthetic leg. And I only found out because we had to share that hotel room that one night. Do you remember me asking you about it?"       "Sure - well, kind of. I could use a refresher."      "OK. Well, I asked you how you had lost your leg and you told me it was a long story. You told me that you’d rather not go into right then but I could ask you again some time. Then you said, ’Ten years, ask me in ten years. We still know each other then, I’ll be sure to tell you.’ So I filed that date away in my brain and finally it has arrived. So, Sampson, how did you lose your leg?"      "Holy Jesus, Frank. You been waiting ten years to ask me that? S**t, I wish I’d a-remembered. I coulda told you long before this. That’s some brain you got there, Frank.      " OK, the official story is that I was working at a logging camp. I was cutting a tree down when I hit a knot. My chainsaw bounced back and grazed my calf. It didn’t seem too bad. One of the fellows there fixed me up with a couple stitches and I went back to work. But I got an infection and by the time we got back to civilization gangrene had set in. Wasn’t nothing to do for that leg but take it off before the gangrene spread. So they chopped me here, four inches below the knee."      "Why on earth couldn’t you tell me that ten years ago?"      "Well, I was getting to like you back then, trust you, you know? I was thinking of you as maybe more of a friend than just a business associate. So I guess I figured I wouldn’t burden you with the bullshit. I figured I’d give it some time and tell you the truth."      "That must be room service...Our drinks are here....Cheers."      "Cheers."      "So - the truth?"      "The truth is I love me a Budweiser. I never was much of a hard alcohol man. It’s hell on my stomach. Hehehehe.      " Frank, I am a very rich man. I have millions of dollars. I have two homes. I am married to the love of my life and I’ve got three kids that I’m actually getting to see grow up. I’ve got a boat and three cars. I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend in Colombia. And I have all these things because I had one good idea. I’m not like you, Frank. My wits don’t keep me out of trouble. Line of work we’re in, if I had relied on my wits I’d a-been in a federal penitentiary the last fifteen years, not doing business with you. I had one good idea my whole life but it was a spectacular one. It has given me all I have.       " I take two commercial flights a week in and out of Colombia. If you were a DEA man, do you think you’d suspect me of anything?"       "Cocaine trafficking."      "Hell yes. And don’t think for a moment they don’t suspect me. There’s one that’s been itching to get me for well over a decade now. Now, when I bring you your twice weekly package, how much does it weigh?"      "Eight kilos. Always precisely eight kilos."       "Now I’m going to give you a close up look at my prosthetic. Have a look see. Anything out of the ordinary with it?"      "I’m no expert but I don’t see anything strange."      "That’s because the fellow that designed it for me is a clever fellow. Like you, Frank. See, if you take off the part that rests against my stump like so. Then you give this a twist and this button pops up. You press that button and give another twist and Voila! You got yourself a little storage area in there. I go into Colombia with an eight kilogram weight in my prosthesis and I leave with eight kilograms of cocaine in it. Always the same - in case they wanna weigh it. And they have, believe you me. But nobody’s ever figured out how to open it up. I mean, I’ve been in a room with that DEA fellow, Hotchkiss, with my leg sitting on a table between us and he’s studying it and studying it. That’s how close I’ve been. I ain’t saying it’s foolproof but luckily there ain’t any fools after me. So that prosthetic leg of mine, that was my great idea. It has made me all I have."       "But you still haven’t told me how you lost the leg in the first place."       "You’re a smart fellow, Frank. You think on it a sec."       "You mean - you had your leg amputated just to get the prosthesis? There was nothing wrong with your leg?"       "Sure there was - it didn’t hold eight kilos of cocaine. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Reviews

[Rain]

I liked this fictional short story. Of course, now a prosthetic leg would be a flashing red light for the DEA, but you put the jigsaw twist in it. As soon as I read he was rich, I connected the fake leg with drug smuggling, but you surprised me with the intentional cutting off of his leg. This is the kind of story that wins in those " Surprise Me" contests. Good job. Rain..