Page 136

By Jack Joseph Smith

Don't you see father? They must pay. They took alot away from me. Mostly my soul. We will bet on that. The voices of the racketers and gamblers were the same, even though they were different in their political positions. His soul will not be retreived. A possibility. We have the power to make it so, or not. Only a possibility. It's on paper, and the paper is in our hands. The odds are with you. We will ride on your decision. The decision is now in my hands, said Martin P. Let no one of you lousy bastards forget that. They will pay now. Rudy is shaking, and the penalty for the perpetrators is strangelment. My hands are warm for the job. I am with you Martin P. I will handle this one myself Michael. You are finished. No more blood for you. But I must go on. I am your fathers aid. You're fired Martin P. They must die beneath you Rudy. Let them live, and you may have your job back. Whose side are you on father. Your's son. Yours. I awoke in a cold sweat and turned my body and stood before my bed. I got down on my knees and thanked God I was alive almost weeping. I put my clothes on and walked down the stairs, and through our home and into the kitchen. For how many days I had been drinking I did not know. My mind was blind. I was finished I was hoping, with

Original Scan

Page 136

AI Interpretation

GPT

Voices gamble on whether the narrator's soul can be retrieved, Martin P. claims the decision and forbids him any more blood, and he wakes shaking, kneels in gratitude for being alive, and comes downstairs after days of drinking with the sense that he is finished and still somehow hoping.

The dream closes like a judgment, with power brokers turning his soul into one more wager while another man takes over the violence. Waking on his knees gives the batch a real break in direction, because exhaustion, fear, and gratitude finally sound stronger than intoxicated performance.

Claude

The dream resolves into a tribunal over the narrator's soul, where racketeers and gamblers speak in one voice and Martin P. seizes the decision - 'The decision is now in my hands' - and warms his hands for strangelment, until the father cuts in to fire him and spare the men, answering 'Whose side are you on father' with 'Your's son. Yours.' Then the dream breaks: the speaker wakes in cold sweat, kneels and thanks God 'almost weeping,' and comes downstairs after a blackout drunk, mind blind, 'finished I was hoping.'