Chapter Nine

The rain was coming down heavily outside of the bar. Dropping in rough droves against the ageing walls with such vigor and intensity that anyone inside must have felt all the better to not be outside and wet. As some hapless souls are wont to have found themselves all the more unprepared. The bar was the one off of twelfth street, or was it fifteenth and main? In either case the bar was empty and smelled lightly damp from the water falling outside. When he walked inside the jukebox was playing a song to itself over in the corner. ‘Operator’ by Jim Croce. He smiled, it almost felt like it was playing itself for him. He slid over to the counter that wrapped around bar. It felt peaceful being there, even with the obnoxious neon beer lights everywhere, Nate noted that he had never felt this way in a bar before. Always they had felt too crowded, too stuffy. People busy in the corners smoking their little cigarettes tended to fill out the remaining pockets of fresh breathable, cramping the little spaces and making it harder and harder to for him to breathe easily.

No one was there in the bar with him then. He was all alone, not even a bartender to serve him. With all of the lights and noises one and going though, he didn’t feel all that alone. Someone would be along shortly; Nate knew this with a reassuring clarity that felt ineffable to attempt to explain, even to himself.

“How do I know that someone is coming?” He asked into the empty room, not expecting to receive an answer.

“Because,” someone answered from the doorway, clearly ignoring the expectation Nate had of being alone and isolated. They sounded so familiar, a squeak and lilt in the voice made them sound disarming. “No one is ever alone, not for too long. Someone seems to always come along just when you realize you need them to. Sometimes even before then. As long as you let them show up that is.”

The woman sounded and looked strangely familiar. Someone Nate should have recognized, someone he knew that he should have known without any issue. He could neither remember nor could he place where he had known them from. “Mind if I joined you?” Her name, the memory of her, it was dancing along the outer ridges, simply outside of the very edges of his thoughts. If only he could catch it. He’d remember.

It fluttered away again as she added. “I hope you don’t mind the company, that is. I do know that some people, yourself included, I’m sure, approve of both being isolated and alone at times. Though I think that all depends on if the company is worth the hassle of your attention.”

Nate gestured his approval, “By all means. I really don’t mind the company at all.” After some hesitation that was not unnoticed by the woman in question, he asked her bluntly, “I know you, don’t I? You look so familiar. And it is killing me that I can’t think of what your name is.”

“I’d certainly hope so. But-” she paused and with a warm smile added, “We can talk about all of that in a bit. You’re a good kid, Nate. You were always a good kid too. Cripes, holy hell, you’re a good man now. When did that happen anyways? No longer a child, but a bit impatient at times as the rest of us can be. You get that from your mom’s side. I assure you of that. But you’re a good person all the same. Just know that I appreciate you, I always did. Someone had to. Otherwise you wouldn’t have turned out so well, in the end. At least I don’t think you’d have been so kind to everyone on your own. Or it would have taken you longer to become nicer. It’s always odd how that works out for folks. But what do I know? I’m only old is all.”

“Thanks. I think. You make me sound out like I’m still a child or something close to that.” Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “Making me feel a little self-conscious about it, actually. Like I’ve always been missing something. A part everyone else had figured out sooner than I do. Or did.”

The woman grinned and smiled her bright teeth at him, exuding warmth and understanding. God, she seemed so familiar. “Aren’t we all missing something or other?” She teased with a laugh, the sounds of small yellow birds chirping filled the air around that laugh, warm and spritely, without malice or anger, “I don’t think I ever knew anyone who actually turned into an adult. Not fully so anyways. They always played pretend and everyone would just accept that that was how that person had always acted. Even if that wasn’t the case. Or had never been the case.” Her voice shifted, becoming more high pitched and giggly as she talked on, “Everyone seems to just become more of who they were as children. Only getting bigger and bigger over time,” she drank some of her beer. Nate hadn’t noticed before then. But they both had a beer in front of them on the counter. “Not the worst thing in the world, becoming an adult. Not very overrated or anything. Some people were horrible children, just awful, rotten creatures to begin with. And they needed the excuse that comes with life. To grow up as they get older, otherwise, well, they’d just become old children that no one, and I mean no one, would care for or take care of in their respective times of need. And decrepitness. You see, Nate, not everyone gets an equal chance out of life.

“It’s true, I promise you that it is true. That, that’s the rub though. Of life I mean. Everyone gets part of a chance. Not always the same part, and next to not always the same size of a chance. But, just to add for myself more so than to you, Nate. And no, it isn’t fair. And whether you’d like to or not, or even want to for that matter, we all grow up in the end. Whether we like to or not, we all do it. And it can be both gross and it can be a very sad thing for us all. Life doesn’t let us live by the sidelines in peace without some sort of conflict coming along it to bring that horrible bit of change into our lives that makes us all grow up. And I do mean grow up. Not the cookie cutter notions of when I’m older sort of nonsense. But the honest to whatever is out there, sort of growing up. It finds us, somehow it always does. In the end…it always does…

“I don’t know about you. But I know that I lived a good life. Few regrets in it as well. Some. Okay, okay you got me. That damn look in your eye. Never could lie to you for too long, kiddo. You were always good at pulling the truth out of me with just a simple look. Disgusting gift that you never capitalized too much on. What? I’m talking about making being tell the truth.

“As I was saying. I regret a lot of things. Mostly, small, little things I didn’t get the chance to tell people. A little of it is what I did tell other people too. Some people deserved whatever it was that I told them, like really deserved it! And that’s okay too. You know, a lot of people just straight up suck in life. I don’t get it. And that’s okay. It’s probably as simply as the way that it is and always has been.” Looking off into space gave her expression a new mysterious look, with her thoughts drifting away from her and floating off elsewhere. “Want a drink? The bartender wouldn’t mind, I’m sure they won’t anyways. I’ll try not to make too much of a mess. Lord knows I always can clean up after myself when needed.”

The brightness of her blue eyes shocked him more than her grinning could have done. She seemed to be filled with a light that was infectious and lovely to behold. “You want a soda pop, or something more-”, the mystery woman paused in a dramatic fashion, hopping over the top of the counter to the other side of the bar before finishing, “-daring?”, she announced this with a flourish of her hands and a dramatic pose that was obnoxiously ridiculous. “I recommend a screwdriver. As long as they have, let’s see now, orange juice. Now, where in the hell…. ah, here we are. Score! So?” She started to stack supplies into neat little rows on the counter, “Come on, make a choice! Don’t think about it. Just choose the first thing that strikes itself in your mind, Nate! Easy living, or a little fast and loose? No wrong answers here, probably. Most people never end up being able to decide and it only goes to show you with them being the most boring of all the humanlike creatures that wander this earth. You know the types. The ones that read with their mouth open, despite being older than the inventions of both dirt and colors.”

Nate mulled the thought over; balancing the concepts and questions she’d asked him as best as he could. It was getting harder and harder to hold his thoughts together in his mind. An organized row of words and meanings that each fell apart as quickly as they were formed. Everything began to felt like drifting down a river, the current pulling him downstream towards something big and important. Something he was scared to know and realize. “I…I’ll go with the screwdriver! Thank you.”

She winked and posed with loaded finger guns that were aimed right at his chest, “Coming, right up, mister. You still a light weight, or did you make your way up to being a feather weight yet?”

“Isn’t that less than a lightweight?”

“I. I really don’t know,” she admitted, “Heavy weights are big guys, and light weight are below that is all I know.” In a poor attempt to appear flashy, she poured out two drinks at the same time after mixing them around in mishappened shakers. It appeared pretty apparent to Nate, that she had never done this before. She felt him watching her so she flashed him a smile filled with white teeth, “Pretty good right? I should have done this professionally. Might even have made some decent money doing it too.”

“Looked really smooth to me, so maybe?” Nate lied the best he could, squinted his eyes in a further attempt to make it sound more truthful than his voice would let him make it sound.

“You’re sweet.” She passed him one of the drinks, spilling part of it on the counter. She quickly wiped it up with a rag from behind the bar, leaving behind thin streaks of liquid behind where the rag had been. “Bad liar. But sweet of you to try. Now you might not like it. It is a little strong. I think I poured way too much vodka. If it’s too much I can add more orange juice to it as you drink it, to dilute it. Either that or some more ice, maybe. From your face, you know what I’ll just go ahead and add some orange juice now then.

“So, what’s next for you, Nate?”

She hadn’t lied to him. She told it to him straight and without any sort of fluffing up, the drink was strong, too strong. If he didn’t watch her make it then he wouldn’t have braced himself. He still ended up coughing as the burning feeling tore at in his throat and nose with a malicious vengeance that not only hurt his throat, but also his feelings. “What do you mean?” He asked between coughs.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean, what’s next for you? Any big plans for the rest of your life, after this moment? At the risk of you blowing it off, I suggest you finally, finally get into making music. It always seemed to make you happy. That’s what I think it did anyways. It’s always so hard to tell with you. So stoic and to yourself when you aren’t busy trying to always be a serious busy bee. The faces you make when people talk to you make it hard to gauge how you feel sometimes. Especially when you played, you’d get this serious look on your face. Like you were doing something of grave importance that only you could do. Like, it took over a part of your soul and you were letting it make the decisions from that point onwards.”

“You’ve seen me play?” Nate was confused. When could this mysterious woman have seen him play? He rarely played for anyone else, let alone himself.

The woman waved a dismissive hand, regarding the question as if it were a granted afterthought that need not be mentioned again. Beneath concern and notice. “You looked almost bored, like you are, I don’t know how to word it. Kind of at piece with the world around you while you played, you know?

“Like I said, please don’t blow the suggestion off just because I said something. Please, think it over. Really consider it if it moves you enough to make you feel happy. You could always just record and release music online or something like that. Something small like that will do wonders to keep you on track for things you want out of life.” She rolled her eyes, “But what do I know? I’m just an old lady. Basically, an old maid who rotted away in her twilight years as it would seem. A shriveled raisin of a maiden, long, long past her prime sell by date.” After the word ‘shriveled’, her face aged, almost in a series of years between each word she said.

Each passing blink Nate made the woman looked different, yet unchanged. It was hard for him to describe the phenomena to himself. She had starting out in her mid to late twenties when he’d first seen her entering the room. Now she was in her mid-thirties, then soon there afterwards, early forties, before settling on late forties to early fifties. He was horrible at guessing ages. Her face looked more filled out now, with all of its newly added lines that made her look so much more familiar than she had before. A deep series of grey lines had filled in the auburn to black colored hair that covered her hair and part of the face. New blue veined lines marked themselves along her arms and the rougher sections of her neck, now drooping, just a hair. Though it was the eyes. That was the feature that made her seem more familiar than anything else had. The deep crow’s feet around them added something indescribable and comforting into her smile. And all she seemed to do was say encouraging things, and smile broadly with those eyes.

“I know, you-” Nate stopped himself when the brief flash of recognition buzzed in and away from his mind. A spark that fizzed out as soon as it had been lit.

The woman merely smiled, a little sadly, and then turned to see how much her reflection had changed in the mirror behind the bar. Between the various bottles, her face peeked itself out, returning her smile eagerly back at her. The reflection seemed almost more cheerful than she had seemed at that moment when Nate both recognized her and lost the thought at the same instance.

“I’d hope you’d have recognized me by now. Seemed like you almost did for a second there. But no matter. It really doesn’t change much of anything. I look the same either way. At least to me I do. I’m just grateful for this spare sliver of time I get to spend with you. I know the last few months have been hard for you, Nate. I’m- I’m sorry for that. Most people… okay, not most people. Everyone. They say life isn’t fair. Like I was driving at before, that’s kinda the rub that everyone gets out of being alive. I once saw you tying your shoe, I forget when it was, not important, and it hit me. Even if that fact, that single, horrible, soul crushing fact is true, we all have to pull on our shoes, and keep going about our day like nothing is wrong. Because, that is the most beautiful thing that we can do. Just trying to continue on with our lives is a beautiful gift we give ourselves and others. You know what I mean?”

“No,” Nate shook his head. It was getting harder to focus again. His head was throbbing and aching. “But, I’m trying to. A bit of it is going over my head. How, how do I know you? How do I know that I know you?” The room blurred, distorting just a little around the edges. “Please. What’s your name?”

The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Look, I’m sure you’ll figure that out pretty quickly. Like I said it doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. That being said however. You’re going to feel so dumb for asking me that when it finally hits you. Now then-”, she poured herself another drink and downed it with an awkward motion. Then she quickly made a face. It must have been poured heavy handed again. “What am I missing here? Oh, yeah. Life’s not fair. So, we all have to find out our own meanings out of life. Not everyone gets a fair shake, like I said before. No point arguing over that. But the way I see it; it isn’t always about you. Not you, you! The metaphorical you! The everyone in existence version of ‘you.’ Point is at some point, through the harsh movements of time comes the horrors of wisdom that we all have to wake up. Whether we want to wake up or not. It comes for us all.”

Nate reached up and wiped at his face. He hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks until then. Everything fell away along the edges of his peripheral vision as he wiped the tears away. The clock on the wall had begun ticking louder. Almost becoming a monotonous continuous ticking like beeping sound. He didn’t like that sound. It made him cry more with each passing moment.

“You,” she continued on, “You my sweet, sweet nephew. You need to wake up now.”

A steady beep was all around the sterile sounds of the hospital room. That was the only thing Nate heard from the hospital chair. He must have fallen asleep; he had John’s jacket draped over him. John himself was up and talking to one of the doctors or orderlies that were scrambling around them.

“What?” Nate asked, with everyone, the staff, John, and the clock on the wall frantically running around him as he sat there. Though he knew the answer. He had all of his answers now, whether he liked them or not. He knew them all the same.

Chapter Nine

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