Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Happy Hour

reb/10-30-13
Happy Hour
            Keith spit on the sidewalk and wiped his mouth.  He didn’t see her damn Toyota in the lot, but the bitch had gotten tricky these days.  He pulled open the glass door, too hard, letting it bang, noisy, and thought about how he’d be framed in the daylight coming into the bar.  Not to be cautious.  Him coming in would scare the shit out of any guy cheatin’ with Arlene.
            The bar was empty, except for Darren back by the cash register, and some piece of shit sitting at the bar, leaning over a legal pad, a half-ass double pyramid of empty Busch Light cans beside him.  Keith walked up to the bar, making sure his boots clacked loud and hard, leaned over so he looked way more than 6-3.  “Darren, darlin’, where’s that whore of a girlfriend of mine?”
            The piece of shit tapped the Touchtones on his phone and the juke box got louder.  “Every time that I look in the mirror / All these lines on my face getting clearer / The past…”
            Darren stepped up.  “You’re early today, Keith.  Not sure I’ve ever seen you here before dark.  Regular?  Shot of Jack and a Bud bottle?”
            Keith leaned in a little too close.  “Now I don’t think I asked for a drink, did I?”
            The guy tapped his music a little louder still.  “Half my life's in books' written pages / Live and learn from fools and from sages / You know it's true / All the things you do, come back to you…”
            Keith looked over.  “And what is this shit, going on in my favorite bar?”  He pointed at the legal pad, scrawled with notes and diagrams.  He reached over to take the pad, but the guy put his hand down across it, and it didn’t move at Keith’s tug.
            “Just trying to figure out the world,” the guy said.  He finished off his can of beer, and in one fast motion reached into a shallow bowl set on the bar, grabbed something and bit hard.  There was a strange grinding noise in his mouth.  He dropped the headless body on the floor.
            Startled, Keith pulled back his hand and glanced at the bowl.  It was pulsing with live crawdads.  Darren popped another beer and set it in front of the guy.  “What the fuck?” said Keith.  “Did you just eat that thing?”
            The guy had picked up his pen to continue writing.  “Bit off its head.  Just a thing I do.”
            “Well, it’s damn gross.  And I don’t want to see shit like that in my bar.”
            Darren muttered, “Keith, let me get you that shot.  On the house…”
            Keith ignored him.  “I said, I don’t like it.”
The guy turned to Keith.  “I need to do that after every beer.”
“Eat a damn crawdad?”
“No, doesn’t have to be a crawdad.  I just need to kill something.  I guess I should just avoid beer, but I like beer, probably too much, could even be a character flaw, but as long as I keep something handy to kill, everything is fine.  Something socially appropriate, that is.”  He sipped his new beer.
Keith felt his neck and face get red.  “I don’t like being played with, not by some…”
Darren set a shot of whiskey in front of him.
The guy sighed. “Werewolf.  I’m a werewolf.”
“The fuck you say…”
“Yeah.  Not sure why, but that exposure to the full moon, as derived from popular folklore, seems not operative in my particular situation.  Oh, I can change when the right mood hits me, but really, it’s beer.  About every 12-16 ounces of beer, I have to kill something, or my metabolism pushes me right into the change.”
Keith snorted.  “You mean if you don’t crunch up some little critter, or swaller a damn goldfish, you’d go all Lon Chaney, or Werewolf of London, all that crap?”
“I appreciated the colorful classic movie reference.  And your paraphrase of my explanation is essentially accurate.”
“So you’d like have Wolverine claws, all shiny and sharp and shit, and big ol’ wolf teeth, and go for my throat?”  He picked up the whiskey and downed it smooth.
The guy was humming along to the words of the song, “Sing with me, sing for the year / Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear / Sing with me, if it's just for today / Maybe tomorrow…”  He glanced up at Keith.  “No, not throat.  For you, I think I’d pass on the throat and just slice open your belly, let your guts drip to the floor, and howl a couple times while you crawl toward the door.”
Keith picked up the bowl of crawdads and tossed them out into the room.  “That’s what I think about this whole pile of bull crap.”
“Ah, shit, no, no,” said Darren.  “They’ll still be alive.  I’ll go get them.  Just keep your seat.”
The guy smiled at Darren.  “You still got that coat with you?  The one you wear in the walk-in cooler?  The cooler that locks from the inside?”  Darren nodded and whimpered.  “Good to hear it.”  He finished his beer in one long swallow.
Keith half-faced Darren, that trick he knew to distract before he threw a punch.   “Don’t know what you need a damn coat for, day like this, but maybe one more shot…” he said, and twisted to nail the guy in his jaw.  He blinked in surprise when his fist didn’t connect, but just stopped in the guy’s open palm, a few inches from his chest.  He stared at the guy’s face, at the eyes that seemed to flash.  He stumbled backward over a barstool, and almost went down.  The guy was making some funny noises deep down in his throat.  Keith took two steps back and looked at the door.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Darren was yelling, as he stepped from the bar toward the swinging kitchen door.
The guy took a deep, deep breath, then his hand moved faster than Keith could follow.  It wound up a clenched fist beside his own face.  They all heard a loud crunch.  The guy opened his hand.  “Horsefly,” he said.  “Darren, I’ll be needing another beer.”
Keith backed to the outside door.  He paused and laughed.  “You all are fucked up.”  He laughed again, his voice cracking.




© 2013, Robert E. Boon












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