Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 6

A man stood over me, sword to my throat. He and his troops had myself, Praesus and Old Rufus surrounded. I looked around, wanting, waiting for someone, something to swoop into the cramped courtyard and save us.

I stared up at the sun, felt the wind against my skin for perhaps the last time.

The man looked down on me with contempt, “You coward, can you not even bear to look your vindicator in the eyes? Are you not man enough to accept your punishment?” Anton Allaine waited for my response, his face held a look of smugness. The look fit him well.

Smiling, I blurted out something that I thought was both clever and displayed my keen sense of bravado, “You’re all doomed.”

Anton Allaine was able to ask, “Just what might you be referring to?” before all hell broke loose in that courtyard.

From behind the gathering of men that aimed to kill us, rose the corpses of Garreth Lee and Jonathan Tomy. Their skin now pocked and grey, their eyes filled with what was becoming to me at least, a familiar green glow.

I didn’t yet fully understand it, but inherently I knew, in death they belonged to me now, they were under my control. Puppet-ghouls that moved as I wished, did what I commanded. My disbelief was only rivaled by my ignorance of how I was controlling them. I wanted to solve that mystery, but something deep within suggested that I not think about it too much.

Zombie Harold Rambly rose again as well, he had fed (ironically on Jonathan Tomy) and seemed more responsive. His shambling had faded, he now walked upright coated in the crimson remnants of his meal.

With nothing but the power of my mind I willed them to attack Allaine and his party.

They never saw it coming. Through my peripheral vision, I even saw Praesus appear to wince as Rambly casually grabbed the arm of an unwitting archer and chomped down on it as though it were a hunk of turkey leg. Zombie Jonathan and Zombie Garreth followed suit, tearing into two more guards like they were cattle. The screams began, and escalated from there. Even those that weren’t being attacked could not seem to fathom what was happening around them. They seemed to question their former comrades rising from the dead, and snacking on them as a tad unusual, go figure.

Allaine turned away from me long enough to take in the gruesome display behind him. With a snap he turned back to me, “What sorcery--”

“Is this?” I met him halfway through the line. “Ya, I get that a lot lately. Why is that such a popular saying here?”

Allaine was through talking, he raised his sword and swiped downward, aiming to cleave me in two. I rolled aside, the only thing his sword met was the recently deceased corpse of one, Miguel Cervantes. I watched as Allaine’s sword cut a jagged path into Cervantes’ torso, rending the flesh from the deltoid to the superior portion of pectoralis major. Zombie Cervantes gripped the sword’s blade with both hands with an otherworldly focus. The zombie attempted to wrench the sword up and out of its own flesh. This only served to increase the spilled blood and saw the flesh from his palms. Had he been living the pain would have been immeasurable. However, throughout the entire ordeal the Zombie Cervantes stared blankly ahead at Allaine with those green eyes burning. Allaine, aghast and puzzled could only stare back, watching the creature feebly attempt to remove the sword from its body.  

Amidst the chaos, I scrambled backwards in the dirt, signaling to Rufus and Praesus that it was time we go. As more soldiers perished, I took control of them as well, swelling the zombie ranks to six, then seven, then eight. I made them all feed in gory fashion.

The three of us darted for the gate, Praesus maneuvering to the hand crank that would operate the gate’s mechanism.

“Work your magic big man.” I hollered, as the screams to our rear served to punctuate my sentence.

I noticed Praesus did not even make eye contact, let alone respond. Yet, he did begin turning the massive hand crank, and the gate began to open enough for the three of us to slip past.

As we left the courtyard behind, I couldn't help but look at the mayhem once more. Mayhem I had unleashed. I saw Anton Allaine being swarmed by death in the forms of those he had once lived with side by side. His sword swings were wild and ineffective, he backed up, likely overcome by fear and mania at what he was seeing.

Allaine might find it comforting that although he had to bear witness, he was not the one responsible for such macabre actions.  

My last image was of two zombies towering over him as he fell onto his backside. Arms outstretched, Allaine attempted to beg off, I could only assume the zombies were not apt to accept his pleas.

As Praesus and I breached the gate, with Rufus in tow, he asked me, “Where to now?”

“That depends, am I to guess that you are no longer interested in killing me?” I asked this of Praesus.

“I feel our debts are settled, I no longer have reason to.”

Instantly, I thought that Praesus was still unaware that Old Rufus and I had left his brother for dead. I didn't dare speak this fact aloud.

Praesus noted my sudden quiet, “You don’t have a response to that?”

“I think I appreciate that fact,” It sounded ridiculous even in thought, but I hadn’t even had a moment to think about Praesus’ brother, it seemed like so long ago, so much had happened since then, non-stop. I hadn’t even time to think, and barely had time to remember. Although, our reasons were strong ones, the choices we made still left Praesus minus one brother.

“Then I will accompany you, until such a time as we can get back to my home. Today at least I am in your debt. Where would you have us go?”

Contemplating, I looked down at Old Rufus and stroked his fur, “Your home is exactly where we need to head back to. I suspect that Helena and Thaddeus knew more about my arrival then they let on.”

“I would guarantee that to be true.” Praesus said knowingly.

“Then we make our way back to their cabin, and drop in for a visit.”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 5

So a warrior, a traveler and a zombie walk into a courtyard...

Well we ran actually. Praesus charged forward first clobbering an archer with that brutal club of his. This man had the misfortune to be strolling by in close proximity when the prison doors swung open. A small squeal escaped him before he dropped to the ground. Praesus was then on his way to his next foe, targeting two other archers closest to him in the yard.

I sent the zombie guard shambling towards the dickhead throwing rocks at Old Rufus. I saw the look of confusion on the rock throwers face, “Harold? Harold??” His expression then gave way to terror, “Harold! HAROLD! NO!!” I saw the guard tear into the man's neck, his arm went immediately limp and the remaining stones in his hand clomped to the ground. I had no idea blood could be so dark as it spurted from the wound, and then flowed down the man’s shirt.  

I darted for Rufus himself, to see how I might get him free. He was only chained up with a clasp, thankfully. I undid the simple mechanism. “Rufus old boy! Good to see you!.” The dog bypassed me, and then lunged beyond me, knocking another guard to the ground. This guard dropped a horned instrument to the hard packed dirt. One of the guards Praesus was pursuing peeled off made a run for the horn. “Don't let them call reinforcements!”

Praesus said nothing in reply. Instead he stopped, lining up a shot with his club. He aimed perfectly at the guard nearest the horn, and then let the club fly. It went wide arcing just past the guard’s left hand side. I was frantic, knowing that we were barely scraping by with these odds, it would be impossible if more troops arrived. Who knew how many armed individuals were at the ready to attack us in this place. Looking over at the zombie guard, he was still rending flesh from the stone throwing man’s body. Despite pausing his chase, Praesus had actually caught up with the other guard. He grabbed the man, and let their momentum carry the two of them into the stone wall of the courtyard. The two men collided with a muffled ummph, the guard absorbing the brunt of the impact. I turned my attention elsewhere as Praesus proceeded to repeatedly shove the man’s face against the hard stone. All the while, Rufus was struggling with the guard he had knocked over. The dog was trying to clamp his muzzle over the guard’s entire neckline. Dust from his fall mixed with the blood on his body created an unusual clotting effect. Everyone was occupied it seemed.

I had no choice, it was going to have to be me. As the final guard closed in on the horn, I closed in on him as well. I did my best imitation wrestling takedown; scooping the guard’s left leg, and lifting it, and his ass outward, throwing him off balance, then forcing him down with my own weight. A cloud of dirt surrounded us as we scrambled on the ground. I had landed on top of him, just shy of his knees. I only had a moment to swell with pride at my single leg before the guard kicked me in the face. I reeled backwards, my head and neck snapping backwards as he sounded the horn. That was until Praesus crept from behind him and broke his neck violently and quickly.

Praesus and even Old Rufus looked to me, and even the dog seemed to be casting judgement from his aged eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry.” It was all I could manage as from each section of the courtyard, the buildings, and domiciles themselves poured more guards answering the horn’s call.

At least a dozen guards enveloped our position. I saw archers leveling bows at the three of us, swordspeople with shields at the ready. Spears and scythes poked and prodded Praesus, Rufus and myself, maneuvering us to the center of the courtyard. Some of those that had arrived began to survey their fallen friends, the alarm in their eyes turning to anger.

A voice shouted to the group, “Should we string them up?”

A booming voice cut the air, “No,” a man pushed past the crowd. I recognized him, he was the first archer I encountered when Rufus and I had arrived here. “They are dangerous, too dangerous to set up gallows and the like. We kill them here, on my word.”

Old Rufus gave an ill-timed bark for punctuation as he paced between Praesus and myself. “You’re not helping,” I whispered.

The man knelt before me, “You’ve caused  lot of carnage since your arrival here,” his eyes flew to Praesus, “both of you.” His gaze went back to me, “Strangely convenient for a man you claim is your enemy, no?”

“You locked us up together, you gave us no choice but to conspire!” I realized during the course of my shouting that he was not at all paying attention to my words. He was surveying the courtyard meticulously.

When he finished he turned back to me.“Harold Rambly. Garreth Lee. Jonathan Tomy.” The man paused, getting in closer to me, looking down at the body nearest to me, he all but whispered, “Miguel Cervantes.”

“You took us prisoner! Gave us no-” I was kicked again, this time in the mouth.

As the man continued with his diatribe, I could see the mob behind him eager to exact revenge. The man, clad in a smoky grey leather armor, drew his sword and placed it at at my throat, applying just the slightest pressure to my Adam’s apple. The sensation made me gulp in revulsion.  He spoke once more, cocking his head back in a manner that made his dark hair flip upwards momentarily, “You took the lives of these men. And I, Anton Allaine will be the one that takes your life in reckoning.”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 4

I knew our alliance would be a temporary one, even as we had shook hands only mere minutes prior. Even still, I hoped I could trust him to help get us free of this place before that alliance dissolved. Praesus towered over me, looking even larger than he had the first time we had a fought. He would most certainly bludgeon me. The possibility existed I might be killed. As I contemplated this, I was not afraid. I would not be backing down.

That’s when Praesus charged. The man flew at me, teeth grimaced, a unfamiliar battle cry escaping them. I readied my fists, and prepared myself for the losing end of combat. Then something unexpected happened.

Footsteps echoed towards us from downstairs. Without looking I thought it to be the excrement-covered guard, finally recovered from his ordeal. But the truth was more incredible. Motionless, with an ash-gray tone about his skin, the portly guard peered up from the last step. His posture was slouched, his arms hung at his sides. However, all those things were overshadowed by the dull green glow that emanated from his eyes.

Praesus, in the midst of his charge, did not seem to notice when the guard shambled forward, effectively cutting Praesus off from reaching me.

When this happened I could see two things; one Praesus couldn’t fathom what he himself was seeing, and two; the back of the guard’s head was completely caved in. It was like an eggshell, dented heavily in the center, the trauma spidering outwards. Only the guard’s head was uneven flesh, littered with clumps of brain matter and sections of blood-soaked hair. And yet he was standing between me and Praesus.  

How was the guard standing exactly?

Praesus halted mid-stride to take in what was before him. His mouth fell open, and when this happened, he dropped the club. It clunked to the stone floor, echoing slightly in the chamber. Praesus was now unarmed and transfixed. It seemed he was caught by the eyes of the portly guard. They glowed like embers in a dying fire, the only difference was their shade of emerald green as opposed to deep orange.

“What sorcery is this?” he mumbled.

I began laughing uncontrollably, to the point where I could barely catch my breath. “Even given the seriousness of this situation, it's a shame no one else heard that. I mean could you have used a more cliché line?”

Praesus was most certainly distracted as he stared into the eyes of a man he had murdered moments ago. I knelt to pick up the club. As I did this the portly guard mimicked my actions exactly.

I looked at the guard, Praesus looked at me, and I back at him. We both held the expressions of shock. I waved the club back and forth, the guard’s right arm did the same.

“What the-” Praesus began.

“You were going to say ‘fuck’ right? Eh, probably not, more my kinda word than yours. I dunno, but this is definitely an interesting development.”

Then it dawned on me.

“You are going to help me.” Even as I began to speak, I could see the resistance in Praesus’ eyes. “Now listen, I have the only weapon between us, and I have…” I looked to the guard, “whatever this is.”

The confidence in his own size and strength left Praesus. It seemed he was not inclined to tangle with forces he did not understand. Fleetingly, I wondered the prudence of doing so myself. In spite of this, I was seized by a strange optimism,

“Crack open that door, make sure that’s Old Rufus they have in the courtyard.” Praesus didn’t need to know it, but even if it wasn’t Rufus yelping, whatever was going on out there we were about to put a stop to it, regardless. “Well?”

“They have him, chained to a pole in the courtyard. They appear to be throwing stones at him.”

“We’ve wasted so much time already,” I walked to Praesus and began to hand over the club. “Look, I am giving this back to you because I know those people out there are armed.”

Praesus reached for the club. I drew it from his reach.

“But, if you try anything- anything- I will make sure this guard gets his vengeance upon you.” Saying this statement had a sense of righteousness to it, I felt justified in threatening Praesus with it, though I had no idea why. To accentuate this the guard let out a moan, and extended his hands towards Praesus’ throat.

“Down boy.” I grinned. “Can we work together to escape from here and get Rufus back?”

Praesus nodded, I gave him the club. “What’s the strategy squire?”

“You go out there and clobber as many as you can with this blunt object. And me and,” I cocked my thumb at the guard whose eyes still held that eerie green glow. The guard also cocked the same thumb to nobody in particular, “this guy will...do stuff.”

If Praesus had any doubts (which he should’ve) he did not voice them.

I flung open the doors that led to the courtyard.

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 3

Live up to the handshake he did.
Praesus rose from his spot on the cell floor. As the guards charged him things seemed to slow until they played out at a quarter of their speed. Praesus dipped underneath the swing of the portly guard’s club. As the guard stumbled forward off balance Praesus effortlessly darted around him, faster than seemingly possible, and plucked the club from his grasp. Following that, Praesus swiftly cracked the blunt instrument against the back of the portly guard’s head. A hollow groan escaped the portly guard’s throat before he dropped to his knees and then collapsed, lifeless. Praesus looked at the club in his left hand, he whipped it back and forth through the air, evaluating its weight. Then he leveled it at his next target, the guard in the hall.

Through feces spattered eyes, the guard saw the larger man approaching. “No, I beg of you, just, just go. I’m no threat to you. I won’t raise alarm.”

Praesus advanced, raised the club at the kneeling guard’s face, but then stopped short of a full swing. “I s’pse you’ve been through enough. You certainly smell like it.”

Backtracking into the cell, Praesus attempted to rouse me. “Squire, we need to leave before others arrive.” He nudged me with his boot heel, shook me. When neither of those worked he reeled back and swatted me across the face.

“Sweet Jesus,” I snapped awake my eyes spinning as fast as my brain to figure out what was going on. “I could see you.”

Praesus curled his upper lip and ignored my comment, ”We need to go, unless you plan on shittin’ your way through more guardsmen.”

“But when I was out, I could see what you were doing!”

Praesus shot me the same look; half indifference, half confusion, and again repeated himself. “We need to leave squire.”

I snapped back to my senses, largely because I realized I sounded out of my mind, rather than the gravity of needing to escape imprisonment. “Alright, let’s find Rufus.”

Praesus nodded, leading the way up a narrow set of steps. Flanking the wood door, were two empty primitive torch holders. I noted that they appeared to be made of heavy metal, though even their rust was faded by time.

As we stepped through the threshold, I asked Praesus; “When they brought you in did you see any animal pens or the like?”

“Nah, you?”

“Well, I was unconscious, so no.”

“Aye, seems to be a favored pastime of yours.”

I didn’t answer. Rather (and not for the first time) I questioned Praesus’ dialect. They way he spoke hinted at education, but he applied whatever learned diction he had obtained lazily. It was a strange hybrid of a cockney and Irish accent. I wondered if either of those terms would be familiar to my former enemy and current ally. I wondered where he called home.  I decided now was not the time to ask. But the thought made me long for my own abode, if only for a second. I was alive and thriving in the chaos around me, operating at a different, and inexplicable level. The moment was consuming me in a way it never had previously.

Briskly, myself and Praesus made our way to the ground floor of the prison. Silently, he motioned for me to check the view outside. I nodded.

Carefully approaching the door, I pushed it open slightly, obtaining a narrow view of the courtyard. I saw a half dozen foot soldiers pacing back and forth. Each maintained a loosely choreographed route of patrol. They carried swords inside long sheaths, and their backs bore the burden of circular shields. I sealed the door and reported this to Praesus.

“What say you?” he asked.

“We need to find Old Rufus.”

“The dog, yes,” he muttered gruffly.

As if on cue I heard a dog yelping from beyond the door.

“Rufus!” I went to head out the door but Praesus cut off my path. “There are six heavily armed men out there that will likely kill you on sight. Need I remind you, that you are an escaped prisoner?”

Somehow, I found myself gritting my teeth defiantly in this giant’s face. “Need I remind you, if it wasn’t for that dog I wouldn’t be here? Thanks to your actions no less!”

“I know what I have done, and I know the reasons behind my deeds. I too know that you going out there will expose us both. I will not allow it.” Praesus raised the club he had taken from the guard. It was not a friendly gesture.

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 2

The growling echoed in my ears distantly. I thought of a dog, or the concept of a dog at least. Then I thought specifically of Old Rufus. The fear I held for him snapped open my eyes, only Rufus was nowhere near me.

To make matters worse I was in a fetid cell of some kind. I saw aged stone tiles, dirty from wear and stained with viscera. They were punctuated by rusted bars. Across a narrow hall, I could see another cell. By and large identical to mine, no windows, decorated in retro-medieval torture style, though it was empty.

To make matters even worse I looked next to me and saw Praesus’ face staring into my own.

“Funny thing, us meeting this way.”

Instantly, I recoiled my entire body, and hopped upright in the corner, in what I interpreted to be my best defensive stance.

“Relax squire, no point in killin’ you in here. We in the same boat.”

Without dropping my hands, I said, “Great to know.”

“For now, just for now,” Praesus winked at me.

“Do you mind telling me what that god-awful smell is?”

With more than a hint of aloofness Praesus blurted, “Had to eliminate my bowels.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I had to shit,” casual as ever, Praesus enlightened me further by motioning to a small wooden bucket he had strategically placed in the corner.

“Great.” I said, accompanied by an eye roll. “Now I have to smell your ‘elimination’ until they kill us, or we starve to death.”

“Maybe, but bettin’ by day seven of no food whatever’s in that bucket might not smell so bad.”

I refused to think about that statement, or dignify it with a response.

“Currently though, we need to be figurin’ a way out of here,” he held out his hand.  

Looking around, I didn't have much to lose, so I shook it. Although I half expected him to shank me when I would’ve expected it the least he did nothing of the sort.

“Aye, what’s the plan?”

My mouth fell open, “What?”

“Well you seem like a right smart fellow.”

“I thought you might’ve been in this sort of predicament before...given your background.”

“Just how’s a man s’pposed to receive that remark?”

Praesus’ face mirrored the shock I had expressed only a moment ago.

“You’re kidding right? Ahem, in the remarkably short time I’ve known you, I’ve known you as a coercive,  kidnapping arsonist.”

Praesus nodded as vigorously as he grinned, “Right you are squire, but I need to tell you of a couple of things: one; those deeds I have actually done, and two I’ve never been interned for those, nor nothin’ else. These fools,” he motioned to what I imagined was the outside, “got me under lock and key for no cause. Only the thinkin’ that I might do something.”

“Shh, listen!” I said sharply.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. The two of us watched as guards entered into view. One was portly, the other lean. They wore matching red outfits, emblazoned with gold accents. Cowls covered most of their faces, save for their mouths and chins. Both of them looked as though they may never have been washed.  

“Inspiration means action requires little forethought.” I said to Praesus before making a mad dash for the bucket.

I scooped up the container, and ceased inhaling. Aiming my throw between the bars didn’t prove too difficult. The excrement sailed through the air in a thick arc, coating the lean guard completely on one side. The remaining waste splattered with a disgusting noise against the floor. The coated guard’s response was perfectly reasonable; he fell to his knees and began hurling uncontrollably.

The portly guard however, was angry. He went for the keys at his belt. “You little mongrel! The portly guard twisted the key in the lock. He drew another item from his belt, this one a baton that terminated in a swelled end. “I’m going to make you lick that off Lawrence’s uni until it’s clean!” The portly guard swung the door open mightily.

I turned to Praesus, “Smart guy got the door open, your turn.” Immediately following my statement I was struck in the back of the head. I went down hoping Praesus would live up to our handshake.

Jesse & Reckless Abandon

September 1996 - Dayton, Ohio

“I drive with reckless abandon.”

I laughed out loud, the way people did before it was a meaningless abbreviation. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“That’s why I get laid ALL THE TIME.”

I looked at the guy in the driver’s seat. He was seventeen years old, had braces that looked like leftover chicken wire and acne spattered across his forehead. Again, I laughed. Not because I thought he was being funny, but because I knew he actually believed what he was saying.  

Jesse (artist rendering)

Me, I was a year younger, overweight, shy and sitting in the passenger seat and wondering why I hadn’t just walked to my destination.

You see Jesse was a special kind of nerd- the kind that didn’t even know he was a nerd. He had somehow convinced himself that he was cool and popular, even though he was arrogant, insulting, and rude.

As a fellow nerd, I didn’t even like him. If anyone had seen us together, I would’ve been quick to tell them that Jesse was most definitely NOT my friend.

But Jesse did have one thing; a 1986 Fiero with T-tops. It was what I liked to call “burnt shit brown”. It had been given its last oil change at a friend’s house with used oil from a lawn mower- that’s how cheap (and clueless) Jesse was. It was a hideous vehicle.

Unfortunately, I was between jobs so my vehicle (a beautiful sky blue 1986 Mercury Cougar, with only a few dozen cigarette burns on the interior) had been sitting in my parent’s driveway for about two months. My father had made it clear, without a job and the money to cover my own car insurance, that Cougar would rust back into the earth from whence it came.

So there was Jesse and I cruising through a residential street at about 55 miles per hour. He had offered to take me to a job interview, and I needed the ride. I didn’t think at the time that his reason for offering was so that he could try and verbally run me down while he avoided doing the same as he crazily sped through the backroads, passing every other car in sight.

“Man, slow down. You’re driving like an idiot,” there was no trace of politeness in my voice.

“Don’t tell me how to drive. I know what I’m doing,” he said, turning to me and taking his eyes completely off the road. “I bet you’re a virgin aren’t you.”

At first I was struck by the boldness of the comment, my initial reaction was to blush. Then I remembered who I was talking to. Had it been one of the actual “cool” kids from school, I would’ve lied, or made some self deprecating joke, whatever it took to save face. But, this was Jesse, and I didn’t give a shit what he thought about me, or knew about me.

“Ya I am, and so are you.”

“Wha-?” he tried to mount some sort of response, but I wasn’t having it.

“You are so full of shit Jesse. Just stop with the lies. I’m sick of it. The closest you’ve ever come to pussy was comin’ outta one.”

“You keep it up and I’m going to get my Beretta,” his words were clumsy, his voice thick.

“You don’t have a Beretta, Jesse. Because if you did, I imagine I’d have seen it some time last Saturday.” About a week before this a neighborhood teen had confronted me while waving a gun around in my face. Jesse had been there. At first anyway, he had not surprisingly disappeared before the ordeal was over.  

As I recalled this memory I became more angry, no longer willing to tolerate his inane manner.

"And slow the fuck down would ya?”

Jesse eased off of the accelerator.

I looked over at the now meek child that replaced the boisterous teen. Jesse’s face was red and eyes puffy, he was fighting a losing battle to hold back tears. It wasn’t surprising to me that he was welling up, I guess I was surprised that no one had called him out before. With only a few pointed words I had cracked, if not shattered whatever delusional barricade he had created for himself.

I wondered what made him act the way he did. I drew a blank.

The rest of that car ride was completed without a word. To his credit Jesse did in fact take me all the way to my interview. He very easily could’ve made me get out and walk for confronting his bullshit, but he didn’t.

When I exited his vehicle, I looked him in the eye. “I’ll find another way home.” I began to walk into my appointment.

For some reason, maybe it was my internal need for finality, perhaps some crueler spark within, but something made me turn back to him and say, “After today we don’t know one another.” the last thing I saw Jesse do was nod after he shifted that Fiero into gear.

It’s been twenty years since I’ve even thought about Jesse and that beat up Fiero. I’m not sure why he popped back into my brain this week.

I have no clue whatever happened to the guy, or where he ended up. I just hope he learned to come to terms with who he really was. My guess is that person was probably a pretty decent guy, shame I never met him.