Tricks and Treats by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mystery Writers of America
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sid Salmon, of course, thought he was crazy when Raymond described the enterprise he had in mind: a one-time performance in a large-capacity house, say, Madison Square Garden, Carnegie Hall, the Winter Garden—$5 general admission, $10, $20 and more for a closer view of his mother, the ghost. Raymond didn’t ask Sid to believe him, all he said was: “If I could do it, Sid, if is all I’m asking. Is it worth five bucks a head? Would I pack them in?”

Sid gave a cracked, high-pitched giggle. “And when the ghost doesn’t come, Raymond? And they stamp their feet, break up the furniture and kill you? What then?”

“I’ll give them a guarantee,” Raymond said triumphantly. “The ghost shows or their money back. What can they lose?”

“They nothing. You plenty. The rental. The ushers. The stagehands. The orchestra. Union labor. Raymond, better to spend the money on a good psychiatrist.”

But Raymond was unshakeable in his faith. “Mama wouldn’t let me down,” he said. “Mama always promised to take care of me. Sidney, this time God is on my side. Can you loan me five thou?”

“Go ask God,” Sid answered. But that night he wrote him the check. Sid was his uncle.

Five thousand wasn’t enough, of course, so Raymond sold a Lincoln Continental he didn’t really own to his best friend, Earl Steckel.

He also wrote his ex-wife and told her he was seriously ill with a polluted kidney and could she send him a few bucks? She did, upon receipt of his I.O.U. for $2,500. He was still some $8,000 short of the total he needed, so he did something he had sworn never to do. He went to The Friend, a bulgy-necked hood who had absolutely no connection with Chase Manhattan, but whose loan business was thriving. (Those who patronized The Friend did so at their own risk, paying for any default with their well-being.)

At last he had the money, picked the date, chose the place and sent an earnest prayer up to his mother.

“Mama,” he said on his knees beside the hotel bed, “you’re booked for the 10th. The 10th, Mama. Don’t fail me. The tickets go on sale this week.”

The tickets went on sale-and the town chuckled.

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