“Thirty bucks says you don’t,” Ike bawled at me.
I knew what was coming.
Once Ike started betting on something, he couldn’t leave it alone.
He would keep raising the amount of the wager until it became an improbable sum, just within the realm of what he could possibly pay.
Ike never welched on a bet, a point of immense pride.
He once bet Jeps he wouldn’t get into a fifty gallon drum and roll down Cemetery Hill into Route 80.
Jeps waited until Ike got to five hundred bucks, then done it.
Ike paid up, though it took him months.
Great voice, as always
I love the last line. It shows Ike is a true-blue kind of guy. Although I wouldn’t doing any betting with him ~ not if it involved drums and Route 80
Really authentic writing.
I wonder how long it took Jeps to recover. Great story, great voice.
I could hear the accent in this. I’m Australian and It had a wonderful sense of place and great characterization.
xx Rowena
I had a friend like that once… got himself shot playing Russian roulette one night. Never was the same again.
Yet another reminder of why I never bet – it’s a mug’s game!
Nicely written. I like the voice in this story.
Well done. As others have said, the voice sounds true.
The voice stands out.
Great story.