Ivan Adair

February 5, 2018
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IVAN ADAIR
 



A warm breeze is present in a peaceful noon Texan countryside. Few cattle graze behind the protection of white sturdy fences. In between them is a great brick archway leading to and through a path of a few long meters of dirt and sand. From the end of the path is an enormous mansion. A mansion of biblical proportions. A mansion which serves as a wall between good and evil...
It is, excluding the philosophical sense, a velvet spectacle to Williams Borough’s own coachman, Harold. He looks up in awe and curses himself so-and a bit too loudly that it attracts attention from within the carriage. “What’s going on?”   
“Nothin tha matta Mista Boroughs!” Harold responds, with a hint of english roots despite his dark color. “Forgive me sir but we have arrived!”
Williams puts his notes on his lap and looks up seemingly bewildered. He wasn’t the slightest prepared. Truth be told he felt powerless and mute especially without an armed escort... “Thank you Harold.”  He closes his eyes and continues taking breathes until the carriage begins to slow. His coachman had similar feelings as well. Long days and nights had been traveled to reach his master’s vital meeting. The only thing that had lifted his spirits were the jingles of the horses reigns and the casual bottle of ale.
“Whoa there Leslie!” He calls out, tugging at the beast’s reigns. “Whoa!”  After feeling the carriage come to a stop, Boroughs tucks all the documents he read over the course of the journey in his leather binder. He ties a knot to ensure its security.
Harold clambers down and pats Les on her brown spotted side. He tidies his cerulean suit before opening the carriage door for Mr. Boroughs. “Sir,”  Harold bows his head with left hand on the door and right gesturing his exit.
“Thank you Harold.” He nods in approval and scoots from the right to the door. He holds his binder above him protecting from the sun’s piercing bright rays. He leans out from the doorway and looks to the house ahead of him. “Well, I wasn’t expecting a-” he thinks. “-a well... castle!”
Harold looks up. “Life’s full o’ surprises.”
“Indeed! Indeed!”
He steps on the foot rest with but stops and holds out his binder to Harold. “Hold this?”
“Of course, sir”
Williams returns within the carriage and comes back wearing a black top hat matching his suit. He steps down and straightens his suit. He retrieves his binder thanking Harold as he closes the door.
Despite the mansion’s beauty he’s disgusted as the dirt granted his boots and trousers a bright orange smear. He tries to wipe off the mess but succeeds in only making its condition worsen. “This had better be worth it.” Aloud to himself.
Seemingly on cue, his comment is met by the mansion doors swinging open with swiftness revealing a dark figure. “Careful Will!” He proclaims. The figure shuts the door behind him. He steps from the porch into sunlight revealing a similar suit to that of Williams’. “Or I will be forced to bid farewell to today’s business!”

The man had messy black hair on his head and owned a smile. Something about it was almost sinister. “Wasn’t expecting a short man like me, no?” The figure, indeed, appeared at least two inches shorter than Will.
With no time for utter nonsense Boroughs clears his throat. “Are you Ivan Adair?”
“Yes!” Ivan Adair says himself with a grin. “You must be-” He walks forward revealing a outstretched hand. “The name is on the tip of my tongue…”
Williams opens his mouth to speak. “William-”
“Williams Boroughs, a pleasure!”
They shake hands.
“Of course, the pleasure is all mine!” Annoyed, he fakes a smile.
They let go.
Ivan continues. “Come to discuss sales?”
“Why yes, but as we spoke at the Gala I’m looking for a, well, female specimen?”
“Ah, you are in luck dear sir, I own a decent lot of them.”
“Hmm,” Will nods. “Better than nothing.”
The gents exchange laughter.
“Well,” Ivan pats Will’s shoulder. “Let’s discuss out of the scorching heat inside?”

“Of course, after you.”

They walk to the house and just as Ivan steps on the porch, he stops. “Your coach is of course welcome.”

“My what?”
“Your coach, good man.”
Williams nods thinking. He turns around. “Harold, keep watch alright?”
“Yes sir mista’ Boroughs!”
He waves as they enter the home. What’s insides provides a real feast for the eyes of Ivan’s guest. In front of them is a grand staircase with white cloth hanging from the rails emitting a angelic shine upon them. Underneath the staircase is an entrance to a larger room full of real riches. Within it are relics from wars long ago-famous and forgotten, gadgets used to navigate the seas, and even pieces of the most famous of prehistoric fossils of both man and beast.
Ivan leads Boroughs through the room to a fine wooden table in the center full of food and the expensive of wines.
“Good heavens!” Williams exclaims. “You were ready!”
“Why yes I was!” Replies Ivan.
They sit down each on one side each with a plate.
“Where are your-?”
“My good men and women are tending upstairs.” He points upwards to the tan ceiling,
“So we will have to serve ourselves?” His tone rises.
“Have what you like!” Ivan with smile begins to eat his pork chops.
Williams looks at him in confusion and finally states, “Well I suppose…”
It's not long before Ivan Adair comes up with the most brilliant of ideas to discuss the business of sales during their meal. Williams agrees an oh does he that he finishes over three courses of virtually every type of meat on the table.
They talked and talked on about property and then in between that about politics. Despite the topics chosen there was no heat or even hatred between the two.
Finally, Ivan excuses himself to check on the “good men and women” upstairs.
“Bring a gal will ya!” Williams says drunken and doomed. Doomed because could not see what was coming because you see, Ivan Adair was not a traditional slaver of the american south, hell, he couldn’t even call himself one. Instead he-

Williams Borough’s body was never found...
 






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