Chapter Five

John normally haunted the Mean Streets bar on seventeenth street. Spending his time wisely, or unwisely, whenever he got the chance anyways, of burning countless hours trying his damnedest to bring Nate there. For one reason or another Nate had suspected that it wasn’t simply for John’s own sake of loneliness that he tried bringing him there. Must have been some sort of concern or getting Nate out of his house and isolation, or some such reason like that. And for that point alone he never asked for much of a reason why John was so persistent, always asking, over, and over again to go with him to the bar. Besides they would have fun there.

Whenever John succeeded in getting Nate to go to the bar, he’d let it go to his head. And end up pushing his luck a little too far. Leading them to playing some pool. The corner table under the dark red Budweiser sign was the favorite table of choice. It was worn as all quarter tables ended up being over time. The felt had gone from its faded green color to having gone into a light blue sometime earlier in the previous decade. The corner pockets also had rounded over bumpers; each corner being shaped into oblong edges from the ceaseless constant abuse the table had to have endured. One of the table’s saving graces, a major difference that made it far more unique and special from the three other quarter tables in the bar, was that it was the most level pool table in the bar. That, and the passing detail that the insert for the quarters would jam up on special occasions. And that sounds like a horrible boon to experience, and you would be gravely mistaken. All that had to be done when it acted up was to tell the bartender. The bartender would then simply unlock the panel on the side of the table, where all of the balls would line up ready for the next dollar seventy five to be inserted. Once that panel was no longer in the way they would begin the arduous challenge of playing a few dozen games for free. Be it simply at the negotiable cost of a few pitchers of beer. And an order of fries was included, naturally.

“I’ve been thinking…,” John began, he was shifting through the pile of sticks next to the table. Tested each one until he found one that had both the rubber stopper on the bottom and a decent tip on the end of it. A hearty and rare find in such a dismal location. And after weighing it in his hand, he frowning in disappointment at it, it was after all the closest thing to a usable cue stick. Then he shrugged, finding it passable for playing with.

“Oh yeah?” Nate asked from the end of the table. He was busy racking the set for the next game. He had previously lost the last game they had played, and as such his penalty had been deemed to rack the first set of the new day.

“I’ve been thinking. We need to get you a hobby. No, no, a real hobby. Like pool for example. We could join a league and travel a little. That might be some level of fun right? Go on rigid schedule to a place that legally has to sell alcohol. Maybe even win some pocket money to be spent on even more beer? Doesn’t sound like a bad plan. Not a bad plan at all.”

“I need to work though.”

“No. You’re not hearing me,” John started the game off and broke the rack, and after a long drawn out chaotic moment, a few of the balls when in to various pockets. “Damn. Eight just doesn’t want to move. No, what I’m saying is, we need to get you into something. It’ll be good for you. Get you out of your head for a bit. Make some money, maybe make some new friends. That’s always a granted plus. Right? Sounds good to me so far.”

“You don’t want to be my friend anymore?” Nate pouted and sunk in a solid ball after John missed his next shot.

John grimaced and shrugged, “Look, man, I can’t carry on being the only member of the team here forever. We need more people to be around. And no, this isn’t me telling you to pick up chicks. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a big advocate for that, all around. A lady in your life may be the kick in wherever that you’d need and all. But you need more positivity. More than I can provide. At the very least, you should start taking the dog out to the park or something. That would get you out of the house and off that couch. Don’t give me that look. I know you. Just. Look. Just, think about what I’m saying is all I ask. Anyways. Damnit. Missed again. Want something to drink? My treat.”

Nate shook his head, thought it over and then shrugged, “Just a soda, I guess. Anything they have here will work. You know my usual poisons.”

Nate sat down as John disappeared towards the bar. The thin layer of smoke hadn’t settled on the furniture like early morning dew, not just yet anyways. Soon there would be more regulars and then the smoky mist would get thicker and more terrible to breathe in.

Nate shook his head and examined the pool table. It wasn’t his turn to shoot; he had missed an easy shot right before John had walked off. He was still up by three balls, but that was the odd thing about John. Whenever beer came into the room, entered the equation as it were, his shooting became more, Nate don’t know how to explain it, finessed. Focused even. Nate smirked at a silly thought; John used beer to cheat at pool. It was his lazy man’s crutch towards winning. It was the only rational answer, the only thing that made it make any sense after all the times they had ever played against one another. John was a sloppy shot while shooting pool sober. Making tons of easy mistakes and not trying the right amount to get anywhere near better. But two to three beers later, he was a focused and dangerous opponent, crushing any and all opposition without mercy or regret. And all it took was some beer. Plain and simple. One crutch in the form of a bottle of liquid courage.

Nate’s phone buzzed in his pocket for attention. One long vibration, followed by two short burst of vibration. A text message it is then. He unlocked the phone and saw that it was a text from Julie, from work.

‘Best day without you here. Slow day, nothing much, then, silly thing happened.

Man came to store yells something about TAXATION IS THEFT at the register. It was So funny. Even ran out with a new book. Animal farm? I think. Everyone couldn’t stop laughing as he ran to his brand new supersized truck. How r you? Feeling better?’, it said.

Nate smiled and swiped a quick reply, ‘been ok. that’s silly though. always when I’m not there…’

“Everything alright?”, John asked him a moment later. He handed Nate a plastic cup that smelled like sweet, sweet, liquid carbonation filled sugar water. John also placed a small tray of chips on the rickety table before walking over to the pool table. He was frowning, deep in thought as he examined the layout left for him to shoot out.

“Yeah, I’m good. My coworker texted me somethings about work. A guy stole a copy of Animal Farm, and ran out into his brand new truck. Pretty good silly stuff, nothing big or important.”

John paused from lining up his shot, “Two things. First off, that’s hilarious. And two, which coworker? The hot one?”

“Julie, and yeah. The hot one.” Nate felt himself want to roll his eyes, though he didn’t. “All the fun stuff seems to happen when I’m not there. I always miss the good stuff when I’m-”

“Invite her over,” John interrupted, then made his shot. He began the annoying habit of getting another ball in, easily so. The games were going to start getting harder real soon, Nate realized. John continued on, “You’re shooting like crap anyways.”

“I, am not.” Nate jutted his chin out, indignant at the careless accusation. “You wound me sir. My shooting has hence forth has been utterly satisfactorily. Hasn’t it?”

John dryly shrugged, “Tis true, my friend. Now, come on. Invite her over. Stop stalling. Promise I won’t flirt with her or anything like that. Scouts honor.”

Nate stared at his phone, then watched the table. Then his phone again. Before John could say anything else, Nate did. “Alright. I’ll text her. See if she wants to come out…What’s with the smile?”

“Nothing. Just watching my baby boy grow up into a man is all. Brings a loving tear to my eye.”

“Shut up and wrack ‘em. Loser.”

“How’d you figure?”

Nate pointed, “You scratched on the eight while you were busy talking too much.”

“Damnit.”

“Loosah!”

Thirty minutes passed on by, with pizza being ordered, games both won and lost, lives changed along the way. Seasons could have metamorphosized into one another, and neither of Nate nor John would have noticed, let alone cared much. They were having fun. And Nate was relaxing more than he had expected he would. The bar remained fairly empty. Four other people beside Nate and John were at the bar the last time they had done a quick head count. Now that number had slowly doubled. Sounds of darts, billiards being played on the other tables, and the door opening and closing, blended together into the sounds of the jukebox playing ‘Freak on a leash’, by the band Korn. Normal day in paradise is what John had described it after his third beer.

“Who’s winning?” A cute voice asked from behind Nate.

“He is,” John cheerfully answered. “You’re Julie, right? Nice to meet you. I’m John. I’ve only heard good things about you.”

“That I am. And likewise?” Julie said with a welcoming smile. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a Muppets t-shirt. “Mind if I play? Or is it a personal thing between you two? Some people get weird about pool.”

“You’re next actually, and we’re not that territorial,” John handed her his stick. “I need a refill anyways. You guys want anything?”

“Another soda, please,” Nate asked, he didn’t turn around since he was inserting more quarters into the table. With a push and a rough shove, the balls rolled out and Nate began the strenuous fifteen second task of racking the table for the next game.

“Just a soda?” Julie raised an inquisitive eyebrow, making her face look almost regal in nature, and more than just a touch angry. “Nothing in it at all?”

“You know me,” Nate shrugged as casually nonchalant as he could manage, “I’m boring. Kinda straightlaced,” he admitted this freely, and he was. Anyone who spent time with him knew that Nate made no illusions to how boring of a person he could try to be. At least, how boring he was until someone else gave him the right shove.

“Not tonight you aren’t. Two rum and cokes, please.” Julie demanded of John. “Need cash for it? I’m sure I have some in my bag.”

“I like her. She’s a good influence,” John waved her money away, insisting she was the guest here tonight and not to worry about it. He reiterated that it was indeed, his treat. And he meant that too. Then John left again for the business practices of the bar.

Nate decided against protesting. It wouldn’t have done much good anyways; John was already in motion. There was no talking to him once he had a decision in play. “After you”, is what he instead said to Julie, once he had finished wracking the table. He had after all lost the last game anyways.

“With pleasure,” Julie quickly picked up, then placed, and lined up the cue ball where she had wanted it. Nate noticed she had little to no hesitation to her movements. She steadied her aim with confidence, and then, she hit the chalk stained cue ball, hard. Crackled thunder of the balls rattling against one another echoed for a moment, before fading out of the space of the little room. Only two of the billiard balls found pockets, while the rest were strewn about the table in a garbled mess. “I’m a little surprised you invited me out,” she said, without looking at him. Her eyes never left the table as she silently decided where to go next. Having made her decision with the flick of her eyes, she moved accordingly.

“John suggested it, and I-uh-,” Nate waited patiently until after she made her following shot before continuing, “I didn’t see a reason to say no. Just something different. And I figured, it’d be fun to have you here too.”

“I see.”

“So. Did that really happen? The guy yelling at everyone about how, ‘Taxation is theft’ and all of that stuff?”

“No one believed it. Part of why it was funny, I suppose. The cops didn’t believe us, not really anyways, that is till they saw the security footage. Whole thing was hilarious. It’s on the county website now. You can look it up and everything,” She hopped a little with excitement for her third consecutive shot. Another one in, right where she had wanted it to go in at. God her grin was infectious.

John returned with the drinks, “I’ll be right back. Pizza order is ready next door.”

“Pizza too? What kind we getting?” Julia asked, she leaned against the stick without putting any weight on it.

“We-,” John paused for a dramatic effect that was more than unnecessary, though he had been drinking, “-are getting a pepperoni and mushroom pizza. And a small order of wings, mostly for me. You’re welcome to whatever of course. If none of it works for you, then, well, uh, I guess we can order more food to go with the extra beer we’ll end up needing.”

“Awesome plan,” Julie grinned brightly at them both. “I love mushrooms.”

“Knew there was something cool about you. Nate here never stops telling me about how great you are. Barely has time to tell me about his day…okay, fine, I’m going. Sheesh. Try to help a brother out is all. Damn…”

After he had again left the both of them alone, Nate asked, “Play a lot of pool?”

Julie again smiled, showing some of her upper teeth this time. Nate noticed she didn’t look at him much while she played. Her eyes were focused, as a hunters would be, only on the table before her, “Only with my roommate and her friends, mostly. I’m not that good at it, but not that bad either. Except tonight it seems that I’m really good, for some reason.” She wasn’t joking either, she had sunk in nearly all of the striped balls within three turns, each time getting a few more in without making any big mistakes. Then she’d miss and Nate would have a pitiful attempt at a shot before he too would miss. Each time she took the advantage. Nate trailed behind with two more solids that she had stripes as well. Things were beginning to look bleak and grim, from Nate’s perspective of this game that is. Granted all of this is perhaps more exciting for one who is watching a game of billiards as opposed to reading about it…

A few more turns passed with little conversation between them, before Julie won. Nate missed a shot on the far corner of the table, though only by a little of an inch or so. And Julie called her pocket in the same corner, and made it in with little problem. She even banked it with a flourish, for good measure. After the eight went in she did a little victory dance. It made Nate smile. She was a better shot than she sold herself out to being. He felt slightly hustled.

“Orders up everybody,” John announced, setting the box down and grabbing a slice of pizza for himself, “Nate, come on man. Finish your drink. I slaved away, all day and part of the grueling afternoon to keep you fed, watered, and taken care off. Least you can do for me it to finish your alcohol. There you go! Just some friendly peer pressure is all it takes. Julie, refill?”

“In a minute. Let’s eat first,” she said, taking the least rickety of the three stools around the wobbly table. “I noticed,” she said between mouthfuls of pizza, “that, all the tables. They have coasters under them. Why?”

“To level them out,” Nate pointed at the tables legs. “The floor isn’t even to begin with. So, they stuffed those around each leg. Kind of hoping it sorts itself out sort of solution.”

“Oh. Oh, okay, wow. Now that makes sense. I just couldn’t figure out why they’d need so many of them.”

Nate stumbled up and out of his chair. His foot missed the floor at first, but he recovered.

“Where you going?” John asked grabbing a napkin and wiping a long strand of grease that had dripped off his third pizza slice and onto his cheek. His shirt had more stains to match the napkin than anything else.

“Refills? Another beer, right?”

“What? Who, yeah, yeah. Good idea, man,” as Nate walked away towards the bar he could heard John whispering to Julie. “-he’s been like this- yeah, yeah- I think he’s-”

A few more people had shuffled inside the bar since John had brought them the food. The air in the room filled itself with just a bit more noise, and with just a bit more cigarette smoke with each newcomer. Nate came back a few minutes later, he sat down and handed out the drinks. Julie and John both said their thank you’s to him, and wiped their hands clean on some loose napkins. Both were eying the table with intent.

“Avenge me,” Nate cheered on to Julie as they both watched John wrack the table.

Julie turned from her shot and ordered Nate, “Finish your drink, so I can get you another one.”

And he did. He finished the next three drinks after that as well. Last thing Nate remembered was someone asking him, “Hey, buddy! Are you-”

“- later news, we have reports updating us on the low-pressure system that has been busy pushing this gust of warm air upwards from the south, causing some rain in the area of...”, a voice layered with static informed him. Nate rubbed at his face and sat up.

His head was pounding from the inside, with his brain trying to leave for a better home. Maybe find someone who would treat it with more respect than he obviously could. A soft patter chimed down from on the rooftop, each wash of the continuous rainy drizzle added into the sounds of the fan circling over Nate’s head. He was back in his own home, and on the couch. And he did not feel so good.

“Margo?” Nate groaned out, his throat felt itchy. And he was very thirst. Sitting up for him felt like an exercise in gravitational physics mixed in with wearing a fifty-pound vest on his head, with perhaps, the added difficulty of driving a car underwater at the same time. He wasn’t so sure of the last part being needed for the allegory, but hey, there it was.

“Pup? You alright?” He could hear her tail wagging vigorously in a different room. Sounded like it was hitting something soft, maybe one of the beds. It was coming from down the hallway, in the guest bedroom on the right. Nate stumbled off the couch slowly; the door was partially opened from what he could tell in the pale darkness.

He crept up to the room, opening the door the rest of the way. Margo was on the bed, curled up against a sleeping Julie, whose hair was a sprawled out mess amongst the piles of crumpled pillows and blankets. Margo stared up at Nate without moving anything other than her tail and her dark puppy eyes. Nate walked back and out of the room, partially closing the door but leaving it open just enough so that when Margo was ready, she could get out of the room. Judging from the arm wrapped around her and the smug look on her face though, it wouldn’t likely be anytime soon.

“Three-thirty in the morning,” Nate whispered, checking the time on the stove. The number flashed soft blurred green numbers back at him. “So, early…why is it always so early…”

The house was filled with a hollow stillness. On the outside the light pattered rain had begun to drop more heavily, pouring droplets into sheets of rain, then it would back off into a softer, somber drizzle a few minutes later. Over and over the rain did this before building back up again in intensity once more. It would be like this for hours the tv murmured off to itself from in the corner.

Nate fumbled for something in the dim light that dripped its way into the darkness of the room. After a little difficulty he found whatever it was and went outside. Closing the sliding door behind him as quietly as he could, Nate was suddenly aware of each and every sound he made echoing back throughout the house. He hadn’t had company over at night in quite some time and had forgotten, quite easily at that, how much noise he actually made when stomping around in the dark. Just moving around and about he realized that he had no grace in his movements. An elephant in a Lego store was the analogy he would have chosen if anyone had bothered to ask him why he was so loud at night.

It was a lovely night outside; the light rain was bringing along a nice chilly breeze with each passing wave of rain that fell. Nate couldn’t help but be thankful for all the foresight in the world that he had possessed when he sat down on one of the dry lawn chairs situated by the back door. The overhead awning extended out nearly ten feet from the back entrance of the building. Leaving it nice and dry from all of the rain coming down. Yet you could sit close enough to enjoy the cool wet air that passed through the rest of the world just beyond the awning. Wet air seemed to walk right on by after telling him hello. Nate opened the case he had brought out, tuned the instrument that was inside of it, and began to play his guitar.

He had never learned how to play, not properly enough to play anything well. Only knowing enough to, as he put it, ‘goof off.’ Only a few chords, the names of the strings, and where the notes sat along on the fret board. After trying to learn a little bit of piano, and never being able to develop enough of a habit to become proficient in that either, he settled back into knowing just enough guitar to make himself happy. It was all he ever needed from the instrument. When he played, everything melted away. All that he had was the guitar now, in this moment. And ‘La Vie en Rose.’

The light sounds vibrated out and into the soft soggy night. The guitar tried to match the raindrops in intensity as Nate played the little version of the song. His version was sloppy and his all the same. He had learned it online and suspected that it wasn’t correct, but rather just close enough to fool people. Sliding and moving his fingers as he played, clumsily at first, then gradually the sound rounded outwards more smoothly, more comfortable and confident. He used to make time for this, spending hours and hours dozing off into the night, playing several little things that he had learned over the years. Letting his fingers give his thoughts and feeling the sounds that his words never could convey accurately enough for any real meaning to be shared with anyone else. And this is what Nate does from this point on. For the next couple of hours, he spends them playing little songs out into the watery filled early morning. Letting the vibrations of the guitar itself dance around in their cradle against his chest. The night is beautiful in the early rain. In this spell they cast…

“Morning,” the voice behind Nate sounded tired, groggily so. “What’s on the menu?”

Without turning around Nate answered, “Eggs, mixed with hashbrowns and chopped assorted meats. And a side of diced mushrooms for myself, not sure if you like those or not. I couldn’t remember if you did anyways.” He was busy away cooking on the stove, several pans and pots were sitting and sizzling out on and off of the burners. Each one with a different ingredient that is scrutinized around with a spatula and watched intently for any changes.

“Holy cholesterol. That’s a lot going on there,” Julie teased. “I like mushrooms by the way. I said so last night.”

“That’s right, you did. Is this really a lot? I don’t normally make myself breakfast so I didn’t know how much to make. I have orange juice, milk, and chocolate syrup in the fridge too. Help yourself to whatever. Cups are in the cabinet over there, silverware is in the drawer below it. Napkins are on the table already. Everything will be done in a few minutes.”

“Water sounds good so far,” Julie groaned, her long brown hair was a mess of loose strands reaching out for dear life. She looked quite miserable. “How are you holding it together?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” she gestured to the room, indicating the stove and the filled dog bowls next to the fridge and the opened curtains spilling now golden light across the dust and doghair covered floors. The room was alive with smells and sounds of life. “You’re not dead and useless like I am. You’re up and functioning after last night. Were you faking drinks? I had less than you, but not by much I thought…”

Nate smiled, “Clean living” was his quick answer. And after Julie didn’t react, he quickly added, “I just rebound quickly is all. Something to do with my family. Our genetics, I think. I don’t normally stay hungover for more than eight hours or so. Unless I really, really go overboard. And I’m not doing that anytime soon.”

“Well. That’s just perfect for you then,” she pouted and sat down at the table. “So then, Mr. Good Genetics, you play?”

“What?”

“The case over there. Do you play guitar or something?”

“A little. Nothing to be proud about. You?”

“Used to play cello and sax in middle school, and later in high school. I still have the sax somewhere. At least, I think I do anyways. I’ll have to ask my mom if she knows where it would be off to now. She might still have it in storage or something. Wasting away after all of those years spent learning how to play it. So sad.”

Nate placed an omelet in front of her. “I can also make you some toast if you’d like some.”

“No, thank you,” Julie said, brushing some sleep out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Smells delicious as it is. I didn’t know you knew how to cook. Most guys don’t.”

“I don’t”, Nate shrugged, he’d turned back and was messing about again with the stove. “But there is next to no way to ruin eggs. Let alone toast.”

“My roommate could,” Julie pointed out, “She boiled all the water out of a pot last week. All of it. I still can’t believe that. She was making macaroni and just, straight forgot about the boiling water. Ended up burning the pot too. I didn’t know you could do that. She’d just left it there and played on her phone while it did its thing. Burning up the pot. Crazy.”

“Jesus…that’s, that’s awful…”

“I’m sure she’d mess up a sandwich, given the chance. I couldn’t figure out how she stayed skinny before I met her either. She was always snacking on small things out of her purse. Now it makes total sense. She just doesn’t feed herself. Not really. Just quick easy premade things from the store. And she’s always stealing my goldfish crackers. I need a new spot to hide them in. And, wow. This is delicious.”

“Liar. But thank you. That’s sweet to hear.”

“I. Am. Not. Lying. It is fantastic. This really is great, Nate. I wouldn’t lie about good food. You can bet your ass I’d tell you if it was awful. Trust me on that. This, this really is good.”

“It’s not that good. You’re just hungover. That’s all it is. Greasy food is always amazing after a night of heavy drinking. Chinese is my safe place after drinking.”

“That’s beside the point.” Julie said, before conceding with a pout, “Though that does help, I suppose. A little.”

“Thank you, anyways. I do appreciate the compliments all the same.” They ate their food in chewed up silence for a little while after that. Both finishing off their plates with sobering ease. “Want another one? I have some more eggs left over.”

“Please! Pretty please, if it isn’t too much trouble. Extra ham too, please. And you said you couldn’t cook. You ever think of becoming a chef? Like as a career?”

“A little. My aunt would say the same thing whenever I cooked for her. Told me I should have run a restaurant, or a food truck. Never made anything special, or even difficult. Just easy stuff, like burgers, or fried chicken. Nothing fancy,” he cracked a few eggs into the pan, and reached for the shredded ham next to the other bowls of various things.

“So that’s a no then?”

Nate laughed a little, “Yeah. That’s a no. Want some more cheese this time?”

“However you make it will be fine. Seriously though, you should look into being a cook or something. Maybe take a class or something would be my recommendation. That was really good.”

“Maybe,” Nate murmured absently in thought. Being a chef hadn’t really crossed his mind as a real career option before. It would be a lot of new things to memorize and learn.

“Hi, puppy-girl! Oh, there’s a good girl. Yeah. There we go. You just need some scratchies. Don’t you? No one gives you enough love, do they? No, they don’t.”

“Looks like Margo really likes you,” Nate flipped the first omelet, adding some cheese onto it and folded it over, and over again. Adding a little salt and a pinch of pepper for good measure, before doing the same process for the second omelet. Margo abandoned Julie the moment the petting and belly rubbing stopped, and sat off on the side of the kitchen table, watching Nate cook. He broke off a piece of the larger of the two omelets and flung it over into her bowl. It was gone within mere moments. “So, I don’t remember anything from last night. Last, I can remember, was someone asking me if I was okay. I think that was it. After that it all gets all, fuzzy. I miss anything fun?”

“So, you don’t remember anything?”, Julie smiled, her face becoming mischievously evil looking in nature. “Nothing at all, not one thing?”

“Nope. Fresh clean slate.”

“You’re fun when you drink. You know that? You talk, way more. A lot more actually. Your friend, John, John, he kept telling you that you needed to shut up. Instead, you just kept going on and on, ‘blah blah blah blah.’ Happy as you pleased. Happy as a drunk clam. It was fun though. I’m not painting it very well. We played pool, you came back from losing against me and John. You ended up beating everyone actually.” She laughed and put a hand over her mouth, as if she could have held the laughter back voluntarily, “You made some biker guy so mad. You won in like two turns. No mercy or anything. He only had one shot left, and you started singing Eminem when you started winning. That was so funny. Not to him of course. He was so pissed at you. John bought him a beer and he was cool after that. But he was so mad though. But then we played for a while. Then John got us an uber to your place, you said you had a spare room after all. And I did not want to show up to my place drunk. My roommate would never let me live that down. John took the uber back home and I crashed in the spare room here. You were up for a bit; I think you were watching tv or something. And Margo here. Yes, you, such a good doggo! Snuggled me all night long. But you didn’t miss much if you really don’t remember anything. Just pool, pizza, and a lot of loud talking and noise. Nothing too crazy all and all.”

“Not so bad then. Sorry I don’t remember anything.”

“Oh, right. You wouldn’t remember, then…We figured out that your friend is dating my roommate.”

Nate turned to look at her, nearly burning his hand while he loaded the food onto the plates. “Really? Amber, or something right?”

“Ashley. And, yeah. She went out as a pre-pre-graduation party a few days ago and that’s how they met. Really hitting it off too. I didn’t think she’d be the settling down type.”

“Neither is he. At least, I didn’t think so. He’s had some bad luck with women.” Nate mouthed the name Ashley to himself a couple of times, trying to chisel it into his memory. Ashley. Ash-ley. Ashley.

“So, I’ve heard,” Julie noted. “Sounded like his last girlfriend was a piece of work. Screwed him over, in more ways than one from what he would mention when we were talking. Sounded like that messed him up more than a bit?”

“Last one was the worst. I’ve told him that he might need to try men, might have better luck if he did. They might even treat him better. Pay for dinner every now and then at least. Plus the bear hug cuddles. I know he would love that, for sure. Who wouldn’t love being held by someone with a deep voice like that?”

Julie covered her mouth again to suppress another series of giggles, “At least Ashley likes him. They’re supposed to be setting up for her actual graduation party on Tuesday. Going to be a big whole thing and everything.”

“What’s she graduating from? College?”

“Some kind of business degree. That’s all I really know. She’s been at it for a while now. Four or five years all together. Something like that anyways. Pretty big deal. I’m excited for her, whatever it is. She’s earned it, that’s for damned sure. Plus she can start affording her own snacks!”

“That’s good. Not to mention, and exciting. On a different beat. What do you think her intentions are with John? They seem to like each other. And enough for him to help work on a party for her. He rarely helps me move even a couch, only if I really beg and bribe him to do so at that.”

“Suspicious that she might not have his best interests at heart?” Julie accepted her second plate greedily. Tearing straight into her omelet without any sense of hesitation, nor any visible signs of mercy.

“Something like that,” Nate leaned back in his chair and started to pick at his food. He wasn’t hungry anymore, it just felt rude not to eat something while his guest was eating.

“I could throw that accusation back at you, mister. What you think this, or rather your, John wants with a blooming, and soon to be successful woman, such as my dear, sweet, sweet Ashley?”

Nate shrugged, “Her smile and laughter was all he told me.”

“That’s boring.”

“You’ve hung out with him. He doesn’t get much more complicated than that. Pool, some beer, and being social is all there really is to him. His taste in movies and music is what you’d think. And he has had the same wallet since middle school. Made it himself too.”

“Does he really? What is it?”

“Duct tape.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, honestly, his wallet is made out of duct tape. Someone showed him how to make it in like sixth grade, and he’s been rocking it ever since then. Whenever it starts falling apart, he just adds more tape to it. He told me that it was the best idea he’s ever come across.”

“Sixth grade…that’s crazy. The oldest thing I have is an old copy of ‘Catcher in the Rye’ my sister gave to me when she moved out of the house. And that’s only from high school.”

Nate scrunched up his face. “I always hated that book.”

“Really, why? It’s not so bad.”

“No,” he admitted. “It’s not. I just don’t like the rambling; whiny voice they gave the kid. Holden. Yeah. They just made him sad, and after the first few pages it gets old, fast. Let alone after however long the book is. It just got boring for me is all. Hate it.”

“You’re probably not wrong.” Julie sighed and added admittedly, “Honestly, I haven’t read it. I lied to my sister when she asked me about it. Told her it was my favorite book.”

“Oh, ignore everything I said then. You’d love it. Promise. Fantastic book. May it be in print longer than the bible ever would be. Any edition or translation. Maybe longer than all of them!”

“Will I really like it now?” Julie leaned on her hands and squinted inquiringly, scrunching her face up in the process. “I doubt that very much so, sir.”

“You have some egg on your cheek there. There, you got it.”

They watched Margo scarf down the rest of the leftover food. Julie questioned how old the dog was, and Nate told her that he did not know. He admitted to not knowing a lot of things lately. Ever since his aunt went into the hospital everything felt off, and different. He didn’t mention the dog collar, instead explaining that he felt off the ball as it were, and that all of the small inconsequential things in his life seemed to be changing on him. Always seemed to happen whenever he turned and looked away from them. Big things may as well have been hidden before he’d ever even notice them at all anymore.

She laughed that he was being dramatic. That all he needed to do was to be alright, and the rest would follow after. It always played out well, in the end.

“Just relax. That’s all I’m saying.” Julie explained. “You don’t need to overthink life so much. It’ll always be there, right where you left off at.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Oh, I do. Life is like a big ol’ bowl of soup and spaghetti. Just a mess of things moving around. Dancing and wiggling about and around one another. Sometimes they overlap and make new things. Sometimes things just happen that you would never have expected to have happened. Not in a million years. That’s all there is to life. Just a mess of surprises. And spaghetti too, I guess.”

“I pictured life more so as a movie, or a series of pictures in a museum-like building. Every room belongs to someone different. And when someone dies the light goes out in that section. Leaving everything that wasn’t taken away by visitors. Leaving it all right where it is. Forever.”

“What about new people?”, Julie brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“What?”

“New people. Like grandkids or whatever? If new people go into the room, doesn’t that just breathe life into it. Or as you so sadly put it, turn the light back on. Even if it’s only for a little while, that person could be alive again for someone new. Someone who might not have even known the person when they were alive.”

“I like that idea. And sure. Why not? It makes sense too.” Nate really liked the idea; he smiled a lot while he let the idea play out in his mind.

“What do you think the happy puppers here thinks life is like?”

“Belly rubs,” Nate answered, no hesitation in his answer. “A stadium of people giving belly rubs. One at a time. And everyone is covered in gravy. I know. It’s gross. Grosses me out too. But that’s what she thinks life is like. I’d bet so much money on the idea alone.”

“That true puppy? Is it all just belly rubs and gravy to you?”

Margo answered by rubbing her head into Julie’s hand, and licking her leg. Her tail, a weapon made of fluff and unlimited energy, swung vigorously out behind her as she sat.

“I see why your aunt got her. She’s adorable.”

“I don’t know where she got Margo. I think at either a shelter or a puppy farm place, maybe…I don’t know. I’m glad she got her too. She’s pretty okay, when she wants to be anyways. Rest of the time she’s just hyper and running around. But I guess that’s not so bad after all.”

“How long is she supposed to be in the hospital for?” Julie asked, there was caution in her voice.

“What, oh. She’s not getting out anytime soon. Her cancer spread itself and she’s, she’s been in a coma for a week or so now. They have her on a ventilator that’s breathing for her.”

“I’m so sorry, Nate. That’s awful…”

“It’s alright.” He shrugged. “She’s been sick for a while now. And it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. It sucks and you know it sucks. Now cry, dammit.”

Nate’s face scrunched itself up in confusion. Julie smiled and laughed at the stark change. She hadn’t expected him to look so old so quickly.

“John and I talked with you about your aunt last night. He pointed out, that you don’t really cry. Like at all. And not knocking that or anything, everyone grieves in their own ways and all that nonsense. But not once that he knew of is kind of weird. Anyways, I teased that I cry every time I get hiccups. I don’t understand keeping all of those sad feelings inside forever. They’ll bubble their way out one way or another. Leaving such an awful mess everywhere. Puddles of tears, just oozing out everywhere. So sad.

But like I said before, I know everyone grieves differently. I personally complain until I annoy myself out of a funk. That being said, I don’t think that your aunt being in the hospital is technically a funk. That really does suck, Nate. And I am sorry to hear that. I mean that. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I promise.”

“Thank you, Julie. I appreciate that.”

“I mean it, mister. Even though I talk a bunch, I am a good listener. Promise,” she looked so serious and focused that it scared Nate a little. She had never sounded so serious at work, and he had known her for so long now. Longer than he realized before last night.

“Sure, sure.” Nate nodded in agreement, keeping his mouth locked in place. He did his best not to think of the corners of his mouth and what they were doing as she watched him with that intense silence.

Julie’s face was frozen. Locked sternly in place as she looked deep into and through Nate’s own eyes. After several moments she broke off her gaze, and sighed heavily. “The party. For my roommate, is on Tuesday. You’re going there with me. I need a date and I refuse to be alone with everyone else that’s there, especially without a buffer. Plus, as morose as it sounds. You have the whole sad filter thing going on with your aunt and all. Perfect for keeping stray people away, and quiet about their own little problems. Because Ashley also knows, way, way too many yuppies who never shut up!” She said ‘shut up’ with an exaggerated space between the words, throwing them down as self-evident phrases that needed no further explanations. “So, what do you think?”

“I-,” Nate began, choosing his words slowly and with more than a little deliberation, “-don’t think I have much of a choice here. Do I?”

“Nope,” Julie beamed, her smile, again, was all teeth. “Glad you agree though.”

Nate shrugged; he wouldn’t be busy Tuesday. He had more than enough time saved up with work. Probably end up taking the next week off as it currently stood anyways. Plus, it could be fun, or rather it would be fun. He could use more fun in his life. “Sure. I’d love to be dragged to this party with you, Julie.”

“Your friend John said you would agree. Yeah. He had said you were in a yes mood. So, I needed to cash in while it lasts.” Julie’s smile grew, nearly becoming an infectious grin. “And since you won’t be at work for a bit, I assume,” she raised an eyebrow enquiringly, before continuing, “I might as well bother you outside of work. While I can anyways.”

“I don’t mind. I don’t mind that at all.”

Chapter Five

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