46

 

Well, what are you going to do? I worried so much that I fell asleep at my desk. When I awakened it was dark. I got up, put on my coat and my derby and got out of there. I got in my car and drove 5 miles west. Just to do it. Then I parked it and looked around. I was parked in front of a bar. Hades, said the neon sign. I got out of the car, went in. There were 5 people in there. 5 miles, 5 people. Everything was coming up 5s. There was a bartender, a babe and these 3 thin limp stupid kids. The kids seemed to have shoeblack in their hair. They smoked long cigarettes and sneered at me, at everything. The babe was at one end of the bar, the kids at the other, the bartender in the middle. I finally got the bartender’s attention by picking up an ashtray and dropping it twice. He blinked and moved toward me. His head looked like a frog’s head. But he didn’t hop, he stumbled toward me, stopped in front of me.

“Scotch and water,” I told him.

“You want the water in the scotch?”

“I said, ‘Scotch and water.’”

“Huh?”

“Scotch and water, separately, please.”

The 3 kids were looking at me. The one in the middle spoke.

“Hey, old man, you want some pain?”

I just looked at him and smiled.

“We give free pain,” the one in the middle said. They all sneered, they all kept sneering.

The bartender arrived with my scotch and water.

“I think I’ll come down and drink your drink,” the same one spoke again.

“You touch my drink and I’ll break you in half like a piece of dry shit.”

“Oh my my my,” he said.

“Oh my,” said the second.

“Oh my,” said the third.

I drained the scotch and skipped the water.

“Old man thinks he’s tough,” said the one in the middle.

“Maybe we ought to see how tough he is,” said another.

“Yes,” said the last.

God, how boring they were. Like almost everybody else. Nothing new, nothing fresh any more. Dead, flat. Like the movies.

“Give me the same thing.” I told the bartender.

“Was that a scotch and water?”

“It was.”

“That old man don’t look like much to me,” said the one in the middle.

“Doesn’t,” I said.

“Doesn’t what?”

“Old man doesn’t look like much.”

“Then you agree with us?”

“Correcting you. And I hope it’s the last correction I have to make tonight.”

The bartender arrived with my drink. Then, he left.

“Maybe we can correct your ass,” said the one who had been doing most of the talking.

I ignored that one.

“Maybe we’ll stick your head up your ass,” said one of the others.

Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.

“Maybe we’ll make you suck a carrot,” said one of them.

“Maybe he’d like to suck three carrots,” said one of the others.

I didn’t say anything. I drained my scotch, had a water, stood up, nodded to the back of the bar.

“Oh, look he wants to see us outside!”

“Maybe he wants our carrots!”

“Let’s go see!”

I walked out toward the back. I heard them behind me. Then I heard the click of a switch blade opening. I turned in time to kick it out of his hand. Then I gave him a chop behind the ear. He dropped and I stepped over him. The other two turned and started running. They ran down through the bar and out the front entrance. I let them go. I walked back to the other kid. He was still out. I picked him up, carried him over my shoulder, took him outside. I stretched him out on a bus bench on his back. Then I took off his shoes and threw them down a storm drain. Ditto his wallet. Then I went back inside, went back and got the switch blade, pocketed it, went back to my stool, ordered another drink.

I heard the babe cough. She was lighting a cigarette.

“Mister,” she said, “I liked that. I like real men.”

I ignored that.

“I’m Trachea,” she said.

She picked up her drink and came and sat down next to me. She had on too much perfume and a week’s worth of lipstick.

“We could get to know each other,” she said.

“It wouldn’t pay off, it would only be stupid.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Experience.”

“Maybe you met all the wrong kinds of women?”

“Maybe I’m attached to that.”

“I could be the right one.”

“Sure.”

“Buy me a drink.”

Mine was arriving.

“A drink for Trachea,” I told the barkeep.

“Gin and tonic, Bobby…”

Bobby toddled off.

“You haven’t told me your name?” she lisped.

“David.”

“Oh, I like that. I once knew a David.”

“What happened to him?”

“I forget.”

Trachea leaned her flank against me. She was about 25 pounds overweight.

“You’re cute,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Ah, I dunno…” She paused. “You like me?”

“Well, not really.”

“You should. I’m good.”

“What at? You take shorthand?”

“No, but I make short things long.”

“Like what?”

“You know!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Guess.”

“Balloons?”

“You’re funny.”

“I’ve been told.”

Her drink arrived. She took a sip.

The more I looked at her the less enamored I became.

“Damn it,” she said, “my lighter!”

She opened her purse and began pulling things out. A beer bottle opener. Three shades of lipstick. Chewing gum. A whistle. And…what?

“I found it!” she said, holding up the lighter. She tapped out a cigarette, lit it.

“What’s that thing there?”

“Where?”

“There. On the bar. That red thing.”

I pointed.

“Oh,” she said, “that’s my sparrow.”

“Is it alive? Was it alive? Ever?”

“No, silly, it’s stuffed. I got it at a pet shop today. It’s for my kitty. It’s my catnip sparrow. Kitty loves them.”

“Oh, hell, put it away.”

“David, you got excited there for a minute! Do birds turn you on?”

“Just the Red Sparrow.”

“You want it?”

“No, it’s all right.”

“I got some more catnip sparrows at my place. You can meet my kitty.”

“No, it’s all right, Trachea. I’ve got to get going.”

“All right, David, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”

I got up, walked down the bar, tossed some bills to the bartender and walked out. The punk was no longer on the bench. I got into my car, pulled out and headed into traffic. It was about ten p.m. The moon was up and my life was slowly going nowhere.