Flash Fiction by Pamela Ebel
Emma Macaulay looked in the mirror on the back wall and watched as some of the parishioners crossed the parking lot of the church where the service was over and walked into the Holy Grail Bar for Happy Hour.
As the noise level picked up the front door flew open and a tall, heavy set man pushed a small woman ahead of him. She stumbled and fell to the floor asking him for help. He just walked over her and slid on to a bar stool.
The woman stood up on unsteady feet, straightened her clothes and limped to the stool next to the man.
“Leigh, you clumsy bitch, how many times do I have to tell you to pay attention to where you’re going. And how many times do I have to tell you to stop going to that church next door and spending my hard earned money lighting candles and leaving pound cakes for some worthless plaster sain?.”
“Dusty, St. Expedite is real. He helps people in trouble. I ask him to help you make money when things get tight and he always comes through. Today is April 19th, his Commemoration Day. ”
The bar tender looked at Leigh’s black eye, shook his head and poured a scotch on the rocks and pushed in front of Dusty.
“I’d like a white wine Corey.”
“What the hell? I’m not wasting my money on booze for you.”
“It’s Happy Hour Dusty. You know ladies get their first drink free. I’ll get Leigh her wine.”
“Listen Corey, ladies get their first drink free, but Leigh here is no lady. So, give her water. And you, stupid, let me get a ten out of your purse and on the bar now.”
As Dusty grabbed Leigh’s purse he pushed her again and she started to slide off the stool.
Emma resisted the urge to react, instead moving close enough so the woman regained her balance. Leigh gave her a silent ‘Thank You’ as Emma rearranged herself and nodded. There would be time enough soon.
Staring in the mirror she drifted back five years to the day six months into her marriage that she began to suspect her husband wanted to kill her. When he finally tried to cause her to fall over the side of their boat during a storm Emma had seized the moment, pushed him into the seven foot swells and steered away.
It was ruled an accident allowing her to collect substantial insurance funds. She had planned to rejoin the police force when a friend called saying she was being stalked by an ex-husband.
“They tell me they can’t do anything until he does something. I’ll be dead by then. Please help me.”
And Emma did.
Then she moved out of state to New Orleans and started her life’s work.
Fliers went up in coffee shops, office buildings and stores. The word spread.
Voice mail took the messages:
“If you’re a woman under threat of harm leave your name and number. Help is on the way.”
Today her work brought Emma to the Holy Grail Bar and the bruised woman sitting beside her. The door opened again and Dusty shouted at the burly man in Hell’s Angel attire.
“Boudreaux you old SOB. I’ve been waiting for you. Get over here so I can buy you a drink.”
The biker walked over and got a hard pat on his back. Then he noticed Leigh’s black eye. He reached to touch it, and she cringed up against Emma.
“Sorry Ms. Leigh, didn’t mean to scare you. Did you fall?”
“Come on Boo, you know the bitch can’t walk straight. Besides I didn’t ask you here to talk about her.”
He looked around the room and lowered his voice as he spoke to Boudreaux.
“Did you bring the stuff? I need a bit of a jolt right now.”
“You got the money you owe me? If you do let’s finish this up outside.”
As the man headed to his bike in the lot Dusty grabbed Leigh’s purse and took a roll of bills out.
“Dusty, that’s the rent money I saved. I need to pay the landlord today.”
“ This is more important and keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you.”
After Dusty left Leigh told Corey she needed to go to the Ladies Room.
“I’ll watch your drinks. Don’t worry.”
As soon as Leigh left and Corey turned to talk to another customer Emma moved swiftly. When the bartender turned back she was looking in the mirror again watching Dusty put a plastic bag in his pocket and walk back in.
“Where has the stupid bitch gone to?”
His shout caused the bar to grow silent, and everyone watched as Leigh came down the hall and stopped staring at her husband’s face.
“What’s wrong? I just went to the bathroom.”
As she moved to her stool Dusty downed his drink and ordered another. He pushed the plastic bag into Leigh’s purse and stood up.
“I’m going to go get rid of some of this booze and then we’re going home where I can take the edge off.”
The conversation picked up again and Leigh eased herself onto the stool.
“I’m really sorry for all the commotion Miss. When my husband gets like this he’s hard to deal with.”
“Did you ever think about leaving him?
“Yes. But I’ve got no family or friends here except in the church and I don’t want them to know how bad things are. I don’t have any place to go and no money of my own. And besides Dusty says he’ll find me and kill me and I believe him. He says I’ll never be safe until he’s in the grave.
I did call a number I found on a bulletin board saying leave a message if you needed help. But I never heard back so, I guess it’s up to St. Expedite.”
Emma bought Leigh another glass of wine and watched as Corey picked up Dusty’s first glass and placed it in the dishwasher.
Several minutes later there was yelling from the men’s room and a customer ran down the hall.
“There’s man on the floor in there. I think he’s dead.”
A doctor in the group ran in and Leigh stared at the commotion unable to speak. They all watched as the paramedics appeared and pronounced Dusty dead of an apparent overdose of what appeared to be fentanyl.
With all of the action no one noticed Emma place the bag of fentanyl Dusty had put in Leigh’s purse into the pocket of his jacket.
She pulled one of her business cards out and started to slip it into Leigh’s purse. A small prayer card slipped out.
“My St. Expedite, help me to prevail through these difficult hours, protect me from all those who want to harm me…”
In the mirror Emma saw a figure dressed as a Roman Centurion. He held a sword in one hand and a pound cake in the other. He nodded and disappeared.
When Leigh went to pick up her purse to go to the morgue she realized Emma was gone. Picking up her purse she found two cards – the prayer card from St. Expedite and the other a business card that read:
“Remember to Dial Em for. . .” with the phone number she had called.
Beneath it a handwritten note – “Prayers Granted.”
Bio: Pamela Ebel is the author of over 400 short stories, a number of which have appeared, in Shotgun Honey, YELLOW MAMA EZINE, Black Peals, Punk Noir, Kings River Life Magazine, The BOULD AWARDS 2020 and 2021 Anthology, Tomorrow and Tomorrow 2021 Anthology, The Yard Crime Blog and other venues. Her novella ‘Four Pieces of Evidence’ was selected as a Judges’ Must Read in the Paranormal category at the 2025 Killer Nashville Writers Conference. Her poetry has appeared in the Delta Poetry Review and The Five – Two Poetry Crime weekly. She teaches a course on ‘How to Write and Market Short Fiction’. She turned to writing full time in 2020, making this her fifth career. She lives in Metairie, Louisiana, with her husband their cats Jake & Elwood, The Blues Brothers.
Photo: Provided by Author
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