This is a very old story which I submitted only a couple of times without success. I never though much of it. It's a bit of a 'so what' story, but I thought I'd share it with you because reading it made me aware of how far I've come as a writer, and how I have changed. What do you think?
Break Even
Stan
by
D.A. Cairns
Stan Ledlin stood staring in
disbelief at the monitor. The race was
over. Running a large hand through his
thick brown hair, he trudged out the door of the Kirrawee TAB. He tore up the tickets and threw them into a
garbage bin.
‘Hey Stan!’
He stopped and turned, lifting his
hand to greet his friend Theo.
‘Did you blow much mate?’
The two men shook hands and Stan
looked at Theo’s face briefly before settling his gaze over his shoulder.
‘You win some, you lose some,’ said
Stan with a shrug. ‘I come out even in
the end.’ Theo nodded and gave
Stan a good natured punch on the arm.
‘You always break even Stan. I
gotta go. See you later.’
‘Yeah, see you,’ replied Stan with
a smile. He did usually break even and
that was
good enough. It was a bit of fun. Something for a single man to do in his spare
time. Beat the hell out of staying home
and watching the walls. Eating
alone. Drinking alone.
His girlfriend Jean came over a few
nights a week to cook for him but she never stayed the night, although he
wished she would.
Stan tugged at his belt to lift his
sagging trousers and made a feeble attempt to tuck his shirt in. Then he shuffled across the quiet street and
entered the take-away shop where he bought a hamburger. Jean nagged him about his love for junk food and the effect it was having on his
waistline but he ate it anyway. It was
convenient and tasty. Years of bachelorhood had made Stan a competent cook but
he could not be bothered.
He was aware of his spare tyre
belly and he grew a bushy beard to hide his second chin but generally Stan was
unconcerned about his appearance.
Sitting down at the bus stop
outside the shop, Stan munched on his hamburger and contemplated life.
A persistent restlessness plagued him.
He didn’t know why after so many years of happily rolling along with his
simple life, he should begin to feel dissatisfied. Stan was in a rut. His comfortable routines were suffocating
him.
After wiping barbecue sauce off his
mouth and brushing crumbs out of his beard, Stan stood up and made his way to
the train station. His mates would be
expecting him at the Gymea Hotel.
Early in the afternoon the pub had
only a handful of patrons. Stan saw John
Miles standing at the bar so he strode over and offered to shout the next
round.
John was mildly surprised. ‘Did you have a win this arvo?’
‘No,’ replied Stan. ‘I came out
even.’
‘I thought you must’ve hit the big
time. You never offer to pay.’
Stan was happy to pay his share but
he always waited his turn and if his turn never came that was okay by him. Whenever he stood in the TAB, tickets in hand
and heart in mouth, he imagined how good it would be to win big and shout not
only his mates but everyone else in the pub.
The man who chases fantasies lacks judgment. Which wise man smart arse
said that? Bloody horses were always spoiling his dreams.
‘Even Stan!’ yelled one of the
blokes at the table, ‘What’s wrong? Not
like you to be so quiet.’
His mate John could read him like a
book, unfortunately. ‘Nothing,’ he lied before taking another mouthful of beer
from his half empty schooner.
‘Seen Jean lately Stan?’ John
asked.
‘Yeah she was over last night.’
‘When you gonna marry her?’ asked
another bloke.
‘Pull your head in Chris,’ said
John as Stan retreated to his now near empty glass.
‘Your shout Chris,’ ordered Stan
while giving Chris a mind-your-own-business look. If there was a good reason for
Stan not asking Jean to marry him he wished someone would tell him. She would definitely say yes. He did love her. They had been together for three years and
everyone said they were right for each other.
At forty two years of age maybe he was afraid. His head hurt when he
thought of how much his life would change if he married her. He didn’t really understand what Jean saw in
a stubborn slob like himself. And he was
worried that living together would ruin their relationship. Was there a chance though, of losing her if
he didn’t propose? Possibly.
As the minutes passed the picture
became clearer. Stan downed his beer in
one go then said goodbye to his mates and left.
Exhilarated by the prospect of
breaking out of his shell and taking a chance, Stan went to the payphone
outside the hotel and called Jean. He
asked her to come over that night because he had something important to say.
Feeling like his luck was about to change,
Stan called in to the TAB on his way home for one last bet. An omen bet.
A nag called My Bonnie Bride was running in the last at long odds. Stan laid his money down and waited for the
starters gun.
Jean was very pleased with the
wonderful dinner Stan had prepared for her and completely overwhelmed when he
popped the question. Naturally she said
yes and when they finished kissing and hugging, Stan announced that he would
have two pieces of good news for the boys tomorrow.
‘What’s the other one?’ asked Jean.
‘I backed a horse called My Bonnie
Bride. She came in first at 50 to
1. I won ten thousand dollars!’
