Another knock at the door. I smiled. After years of traveling the world and trying to make a sale in the doorways of random strangers, now they came to me from far and wide just for the privilege of hearing my sales pitch. They knocked and begged for the products and services that were lucky enough to be represented by me.
I took my time getting to my feet, letting the customer count the seconds and wonder when it might be appropriate to knock again. I took in a long, deep breath, sinking lower into my plush couch. After a moment I stretched and slid my feet into the cushy slippers that were always waiting to warm my toes. As I casually shuffled to the door a confident rapping burst through the wood and shook the timbers of my modest mansion.
I opened the door with raised eyebrows, already taken with the audacity of anyone who would pound on my door with such force. To my surprise, a timid fellow looked up at me from the doormat, not any taller than my shoulders. His huge eyes blinked nervously and a smile wormed its way onto his face through the look of illness and horror that had dominated his features when I first opened the door. He wore a too-big suit that may have been older than I was, with several generations of patches and unattended worn holes. Despite his appearances, I had to admire his tenacity as he flattened the suitcoat and unraveled himself to stand up straighter.
“Good morning,” the man stammered weakly. “I… I wonder if I might borrow a moment of your time.”
I cocked an eyebrow and stared down at him in disbelief. Was he trying to sell me something? After a moment of utter confusion, I grinned. This should be good, I thought.
“Sure,” I said. “Would you like to come inside?” I stepped back and swept my arm inside welcomingly.
The poor creature didn’t know how to respond. He stared at me looking lost for a moment, then shook his head and cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, um… thank you.” The surprise in his voice could not conquer his fear and I knew immediately that the next thing he’d need would be a glass of water.
He stumbled into my home, following close behind as I led him to the sitting area. He wisely steered clear of the opulent couch and opted for a more modest armchair that sat at an angle to the couch. He would not face me directly, but instead he would share my perspective while leaning in to gain my trust. Not bad, I mused.
“Let me get you a glass of water,” I offered, sliding into the nearby kitchen to retrieve a glass.
“Thank you,” he called, his voice still wavering slightly. He stood awkwardly by the chair, refusing to sit until I had taken my own seat.
“So,” I said conversationally while I poured filtered water into the glass, “what did you want to talk about with me?”
He cleared his throat and must have coughed up his nerves because in a confident, deep, slick tone he said, “I have a proposal that I think you will like very much.”
I wheeled around and dropped my jaw. The scrawny, trembling man was gone. In his place there was an imposing, dashing gentleman in a stiffly starched and pressed suit that looked completely new. I furrowed my brow and peered at him, processing the transformation with a skepticism I reserved for magicians and corporate lawyers.
Water splashed down onto the counter and I quickly set down the jug and picked up the overflowing glass. “Huh,” I breathed, holding a steady gaze on his chiseled face. “Let’s hear it then.”
“What is the one thing you can never have?” he began.
“What do you mean?” I asked, slowly making my way over to him.
“You are the most successful salesman in the history of the world. You have amassed riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. You understand people and humanity in ways that would horrify even the most street-smart erudite. Some would say you have it all, but you and I know better.” He paused, a sly grin twinkling in his steady eyes.
I held his gaze, a shiver prickling its way up my spine. A question formed in my mind and spilled from my lips, but even as I began voicing it, I knew the answer. “What do you want from me?”
“Ah ha!” the man exclaimed. “But you know that’s the wrong question. The question is what do you want? And I am here to tell you that I not only have the answer, but I can give it to you.”
I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips. “Hmm, that may be,” I said tentatively. “But what if I could say the same to you?”
The broad-shouldered man turned his head almost imperceptibly, as though attempting to catch his balance without letting anyone know he had tripped.
I smiled and handed him the glass of water before sinking into my couch. “I presume,” I began, “that you are here to bargain with me. I have something you want, and you believe you have something that is worth the trade.”
The man’s complexion softened and a hint of sweat put an unattractive sheen on his forehead.
“What if I told you that what you think you want isn’t at all what you really want?”
In a futile attempt to appear calm and in control, the man took a quiet sip of water and gazed dispassionately at me.
I laughed. “I’m disappointed,” I declared. “I would have thought that you, more than anyone else, would have a better poker face than that!”
The man recoiled as though I’d slapped him across the face. “I…” he began, the outward attempts at composure having entirely collapsed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“You came to bargain for my abilities as a salesman,” I accused. “But I can offer you something far better than my abilities. You think that if you could sell as well as I can then your job would be easier.” I paused just long enough for a look of horror to fill his eyes and confirm my position. “But I have an even better deal for you. I know a way for us both to get exactly what we want without having to part with anything of value.”
His eyes lost their focus and I got the distinct impression he was looking at something in an entirely different place and time. I grinned with satisfaction. All I had to do now was close the deal.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the first door. Though it had been nice having customers flock to me at my own home, it felt good to be hitting the streets again. Better yet, I didn’t have to carry a box of knives or a catalogue of dinnerware or a suitcase full of pamphlets.
The door opened and I put on my best smile. “Good evening,” I began. “I wonder if you might have a moment to talk about temptations.”
A young woman stood in the doorway, her face scrunching into a satisfyingly twisted look of perplexity.
“How would you like it if I could guarantee a life free from temptations plus entry into heaven?”
“What, are you some kind of missionary?” She began to close the door. “I already have a religion,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.
“No, no,” I interjected. “On the contrary. I am offering to suspend temptations on behalf of my client, Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness.”
She froze, her eyes growing wide as she processed this revelation.
I continued. “Aren’t you tired of the unceasing onslaught of temptations around you? I bet already today you’ve had to fight off the desire to indulge in some kind of act of immediate gratification or carnal pleasure that you absolutely knew was the work of the devil. Am I right?”
She stared at me, pondering my words with delicious intensity. I waited for her to catch up, smiling with the sly certainty of an honest man with an honest deal.
“Alright,” she began, full of doubt. “So you can guarantee the temptations will stop?”
I grinned. “Of course!” Then, casually, I added, “for a price.”
Mermaid Pirate Dispatch 
Leave a comment