Third Hand

Dick wiped his lips with the back of his left hand as he dug his right fingers into the tall heap of steaming workple and scooped a fistful, bathed it in the soup bowl and passed it to his tongue to be transported to his stomach. Vroom, it went down his throat.

He smacked his lips and nodded his head in approval. You this woman, if I hadn’t married you, I don’t know what else I could have done. He thought, smiling nervously.

“As I was saying”, he said, “the information from the Director-General got to us late and we had no option but to do what we did to save the situation.”

A thin line of saliva dripped from the left side of his mouth while a piece of fish flew into an open file in front of him. He pulled his left index finger from his nose, reached out and lifted the stubborn piece of carcass from the file, gave it a stern scornful stare and redirected it to where it came from, then closed the file.

“Procurements General. Hm. These people. We’ll see about that”. He muttered to himself.

“Secretary, come and move these files away, they want to share my small lunch with me”. He barked, spitting some bones into his left palm and tossing them into the bowl of water he’d washed his hands in before eating.

All this while his guest looked bemused and trapped as he choked under the smell of fish that had taken over the office.

“I’m sorry Sir, I’ll be done in a jiffy.” He said to his guest as he licked a streak of soup that was dripping from his right wrist onto the cuff of his shirt.

“Yes, like I said earlier, sole-sourcing was the only option available to us considering the limited time within which we had to work. So this query you brought, I don’t know how exactly to respond to it. Do you get me? What’s that your name again?”

“Head”

“Aha, Head. Head from where?”

“Head from the Serious Fraud Office.”

“Did you understand what I said?”

“I’ll wait till you finish eating, Sir.”

“Really? Okay. I’m almost done. I was so hungry that if I didn’t eat this thing at this time, you may have a dead man on your hands.”

 “I have scotch here, Sir. Vintage whisky. Seven years in the barrel. Gifted to me by a friend who returned from Scotland recently”. He said as he pulled the bottle from the side drawer and and placed it beside the thirsty glass sitting half an inch away from the ashtray. “Forty-two percent alcohol”, he read tilting the bottle slightly. He filled the glass using his left hand, raised it to eyelevel, scanned the content briefly, muttered some words, then gulped it in one shot. He belched loudly and muttered “oh, now I’m back to life”.

“C’mon, give it a try, you’d love it.” He said, pushing the glass and the scotch to his guest with his sixth finger. Rising eyebrows, Head shifted to the edge of his seat.

“No, thanks.” Head said, smilling at his awkwardness. He seemed too unfit for the office, too clumsy for a head. A dry moment of silence enveloped the room as both men stared blankly at each other.

“Well, let’s proceed then. I’m ready for you.” Dick said, breaking the stillness.

What the heck? How can anyone possibly have any meaningful discussion with a man that has just taken whiskey as his lawyer? Head mused, almost letting out his thoughts.

“I’m afraid Sir, we may have to reschedule this meeting to another day.”

“I thought you said you were running a tight schedule. What has changed?”

“I’ll return tomorrow.” Head said through clenched teeth as he marched towards the door.

“Wait and let me get you something small for transport. Wait…”