Kobold Rather Than Gold

Image: Kobold Attack Source: Wikipedia

Authors Note: My story is an interpretation of the Jataka "Goblin City." The original story is a fairy tale about a group of sailors who get hoodwinked into marrying goblins. They are eventually saved by a benevolent fairy who takes them away on her flying horse. I've attempted to ground the story in modern times. This was my very first story, so I was a little unsure how to go about writing my interpretation, but I think the moral of the story still came through. This is also the only serious story that I've written all semester, and it is the most dialogue heavy. I have always found dialogue challenging to write; I have a hard time making the conversation sound natural, so I normally avoid using it. Because of this, I really tried to face this issue by writing a dialogue-heavy story. As the folk-tale doesn't have very much dialogue at all, I think this also differentiates my story from the original. I've replaced the goblins with a bad business partner and the sailors with a naive business partner. I know a lot of people get taken advantage of in business settings, especially from people who claim to be their friends. I thought this interpretation would be a little more novel than grounding the story in a modern romantic relationship. Hope you guys enjoy!

Story:

My partner drove his battered hatchback towards me. I waited for him next to a defunct bodega surrounded by the shade of nearby palm trees. My partner didn’t know it yet, but this “meeting” was going to end in confrontation. I could see his outline through the front windshield of his car– my heart rate quickened. I’d never been afraid of him until now.

He pulled up next to me, his front right wheel scraping against the curve. He was out the door, smiling at me with bleached white teeth. Behind his shaded glasses, his eyes were dead.

“Hey buddy.” He grabbed my hand in his. He stood a head shorter than me, but he was solid, a tiny boulder in a leather jacket. And he was too close to me; he always smelled like gas station cologne, and the smell was so distracting.

“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for getting here so quickly. I really needed to talk to you– in person.”

“You sounded a little freaked out on the phone. Come on, get in the car– I know a place down the street; they got three-foot cocktails. We should celebrate. We’ve covered a lot of ground these past few weeks.” He put his hand on my back and tried to steer me to the passenger side door. My shirt was plastered to my back with sweat. He glanced at my face. Sweat was practically cascading down my nose with the force of a small waterfall. He cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, I’d prefer it if we stayed here. Just for now, until I tell you something real quick.” My tone was clipped. He held his arms open.

“I’m all ears, friend. What do you got for me?”

I licked my lips. “It took me too long to figure it out. Way too long. I guess you never thought I would take the time to look at the accounts myself. But you tipped me off.”

“What tip? Honestly, you’re kinda weirding me out right now. The pressure’s getting to you. Come on, you should have a drink before you go into cardiac arrest.”

“You drink too much.” I blurted out, “and you’re a blackout drunk, clearly. How do you not remember? You came in yesterday afternoon totally glazed, and you wouldn’t shut up about account number 8.” His countenance changed right away, like a little storm cloud had just appeared over his head. But I was too nervous to stop myself. “I checked it out– you’ve been funneling money from our main account into this backdoor account ever since we got started. You’ve been bleeding us dry the whole time.” I was getting worked up, my face was hot, and my vision was getting blurry.

(Image: Shady Guy Source: Newsweek)

His smile turned into a leer. “You don’t need to worry about that. Seriously, I… why are you overreacting? Is that why you had me meet you here like we’re in The Wire or something? Account 8 is a just a little nest egg I’m setting up in case things go south for us. I didn’t expect you to lose your mind about it.”

“Just stop it, I’m sick of you trying to pull one over on me all the time. You’re a manipulator and a gas-lighter. It’s over between us; I’ve already contacted my lawyer, and all the contracts are in my name anyways. You’re out. You have to walk away.”

“Walk away?” Any pretense of a smile vanished from his face. His hand slipped into his pocket. “Did you really just say that to me? I’ve been with you since the start of this, and you just think I’m gonna leave you alone because you told me to? This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to force me out of something I put my heart into. I will eat you alive before I let you push me out.”

He was yelling now, but I was already walking away. He didn’t make any attempt to chase after me. He just yelled, “You won’t make it a week before everything falls apart without me. You’re green– you need someone like me.” I ignored him and walked until he was out of sight.

A few minutes later, a text message appeared on my phone, “Done?”

I sent back a quick reply, “Finished.” It was to an angel investor I’d contacted earlier that day. She would make sure my project made it off the ground.