was calculating the minimum amount of time and energy required to dispatch your soul to hell, and doing the cost/benefit analysis of such an action. Not particularly large, maybe six foot even and on the thin side, but muscled. It was clear that he was tough as hell, but still, there was something almost… Well, not really, but almost…
But clearly he wasn’t someone to fuck with. Like that time when he was sure that Elihu would be gone for at least an hour, and so he peeked into his tent. Next to nothing. A cot, a small table, and a few books. A weird collection of books, almost all high-brow stuff that he hadn’t thought about since college: Goethe, Hegel, Machiavelli, a book entitled The Decline of the West, apparently by Lee Harvey Oswald, something about politics by someone named Hans Morgenthau, some military history stuff, in German like many of the others, and, oddly enough, several beat-up paperbacks by some freak from the 1970’s.
He hadn’t heard anything, but one of those odd feelings made him wheel about, and there stood Elihu at the door of the tent, as usual smoking a cigarette, contemplating him through the smoke. Nothing in particular about Elihu’s body language or expression conveyed threat, but somehow Eliphaz had the feeling that he was seconds away from being ripped apart.
“Oh, er, I see that you read German.”
“Not really. I just like to create the impression that I’m a fascist.”
As often happened when talking to Elihu, he wasn’t certain whether this added up to a joke.
“Sorry about wandering into your tent, I was thinking…”
“No problem. Invite yourself in any time.” Still nothing threatening, nothing overt, but Eliphaz, despite his considerably larger girth, found himself unable to look Elihu in the eye.
“Yeah, well, why don’t I…”
“Auf Wiedersehen.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure…”
Yes, clearly he wasn’t someone to fuck with. While he couldn’t say that he was comfortable around him, he certainly desired Elihu’s company far more than that of either of his other traveling companions. And he surely was the right type to be heading up this particular trip.
Elihu stuck his head in through the door of Eliphaz’ tent, flashed one of his rare smiles, showing the big gap between his top front teeth, and said in a chipper voice, “time to head out.”
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