nmyworld

It was the beginning of a long, rainy Tuesday. I had to leave town a half hour after a special meeting with the mayor. The small town hadn’t been the guest of a foreigner in days and the mayor wanted me to carry a message for him. Dirty work, but someone’s always destined to be the bitch.

Anyway, I had a few hours to kill before the meeting and decided to hit up one of my favorite saloons, The Empty Hat. It’d been years since I had last set foot in there and was surprised to see that it still stood. Luckily for me and my suitcase, it was still open for business.

I jogged up to the old cracked porch and sat my suitcase down, wiping the beads of rainwater off it so my other clothes didn’t get soaked. I stomped my boots, shook my hat, and started to the door with the old confident swagger I had all those years ago.

But the place had changed. One of the swinging doors had completely fallen off and I didn’t even recognize the bartender. Used to be I would come in here every Tuesday and shoot the bull with old Red Taylor, the owner - that is, when he wasn’t gunning for me after I’d stolen a bottle of whiskey. He was kind of old, so I guess he’s not around anymore. But I also used to come here with my old friends, Marv, Terry, and Julius. Somewhere in my foolish head I had hoped that I would walk into that bar, see at least one of my friends and they’d jump up, put the entire bar on their tab and we’d show this crappy saloon how we used to kick it.

But, all I saw was the old piano - completely rotten and probably out of tune like it was all those years ago - and some new bar tender; one of those young guys who always looked like he was on day one of his job.

“What’ll ya have, sir?” he asked.

I looked around, noticing all the tables and chairs that were still there. Most of them were still there, anyway. One probably still had my name carved under it.

“I’ll just have a double of your chea-”

Damn… Old times were catching up with me. Used to be “I’ll have a double of your cheapest whiskey” was just what I always said when I came in. But it’d been a while since I could only afford the cheap stuff.

“Your most expensive whiskey, my good man.”

“Right,” said the man, “comin’ up.”

I looked around for a hanger to place my coat, but remembered the place never had one and still didn’t. So I slid my luggage out of the way of the door, took off my jacket and hat and tossed them over my suitcase. Used to be I’d just throw it on the floor and take the one on top when I left.

The bartender finished pouring the whiskey and tried to slide it down the bar, but the wood lost it’s gloss long ago. It was worn before, but now it’s just splintery wood. He laughed and carried the glass down to a stool where he wanted me to sit.

“So what brings you to this lonely part of the country?” he said as he put the glass on the counter.

I sat down, picked up the glass and examined the whiskey. It all looked the same to me and I really couldn’t tell you the difference between an expensive bottle of whiskey and a cheap one - save the label of course.

“I sell rifles,” I said, sipping on my whiskey.

“Oh yeah? What kinds?”

“All kinds. You in the market?”

“Oh no, sir, a gun actually came with the bar.”

“You bought this place? You related to Red Taylor, fella?”

“No. I bought this place from his widow though. Sad story old Red. Died of too much worrying. Took life way too seriously.”

And he did. I remembered all the bullet holes Red blasted into his walls on account of me stealing some of his booze. I never felt sorry at the time, but looking back, me and the guys were probably the root of his problems. Ah well, on his good days he’d treat you like the Lord himself; especially if you were a regular. One day we’d be his best friend, the next he’d round us up at gunpoint and make us empty our pockets to pay him. Poor guy.

“Yep,” I said, “I knew him. Good man.”

“How’d you know him?”

He took to shining a glass. Wish he would’ve cleaned mine.

“I used to live here,” I said, taking the rest of the whiskey down.

I slammed the glass down like a used to back in the day. But with out the Julius’ glass hitting last - he was always the sissiest of us - it just wasn’t the same.

“I’ll have another, but this time make it the cheapest. I never can tell the difference.”

“Sure, but I’m gonna have to ask you to pay, sir. I’ve had too many-”

I interrupted him by pulling out a wad of bills and throwing it on the counter.

“Just give me the leftovers when I’m done, sonny.”

“Uh, ok. A double or triple?” he said, winking.

“Made it a… well a double double, there,” I said, grinning.

Just then I heard footsteps at the door. Slow and casual, like the feet had walked over those boards a thousand times before. Probably some drunkard.

“Well…,” said the man, laughing under his breath, “if I ain’t a shit eating cow thief!”

Bells went off in my head. I knew the answer to this…

“Then I ain’t the mayor,” I said.

I turned to see the man. The face looked familiar. I squinted, but I when I finally made out who it was my eyes turned to the size of oranges. Probably looked pretty silly.

“Son of a bitch! Terry Jengle,” I laughed. It took a while, but I finally got the joke.

“Hah!” he laughed, “never thought I’d be seeing you again!”

He walked into the soft glow of the rainy day’s light, but all I could make out were the beads of water on his hat and coat.

“Damnit, Terry,” said the bartender, “go shake your shit off. How many times do I have to tell-”

“Shadup, Jay,” said Terry.

His disrespectful tone brought in an awkward silence. I don’t usually like it when people treat bartenders or waiters like that; and this was a friend, so I wasn’t going to set him straight. Besides, Jay didn’t even try to fight back.

Terry pulled off his coat and hat and shook them, soaking the boards beneath them. I don’t know if he was trying to be disrespectful or if he just didn’t know better.

“Pour me some of that, Jay,” said Terry.

Jay was just holding my glass full of whiskey in his hand trying not to lose his cool. He handed me the glass and poured a single for Terry in a new, dirtier glass.

Terry threw his jacket on the stool next to him and took the stool beside me, laughing a low laugh the whole way around me.

“So what brings your sorry ass to these parts? What’s it been? Nine years? Ten?” he said

“Eleven actually. I sell guns now, Ter. Doing pretty well.” I took down a sip of my whiskey. “What about you?”

“Doing good, eh? Glad to hear it. I’m not really doing much right now. Just building up a tab here, looking for some work while doing odd jobs for the sheriff. I used to work here until Jay here fired me.”

“Fired you, uh? What for?”

He looked ay Jay, who ignored his glance while he pretended to clean glasses.

“I tried to get with his sister, heh.”

Now I see why Jay was mad. Terry was the ugliest person I’ve ever met in my life to this day - I’m surprised he still tried to get women. Nose the size of my hat and a tiny chin, eyes close together and not a single straight tooth; a regular freak of nature, the poor bastard. I wouldn’t want him sleeping around with my sister, either.

“You tried to take advantage of an innocent girl. You’re lucky nothing happened or I’d have no worries wiping that crooked grin off your face.”

“Watch it, Jay,” warned Terry. “You still owe money around town for this bar, so you best keep your hands, arms, and legs in tact to keep yourself working.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Terry’s need to flaunt his ego. It was obvious when Terry tried to impress people; especially girls. It was just the way he talked and moved his body when he felt he could get something out of it. He tried too hard.

Jay turned to rearrange the bottles of booze on the counter. Terry laughed like he’d just won the argument

“Anyway,” I said, “how’s Marv and Julius doing? You see them much?”

Terry regained his normal speaking composure and sighed.

“Marv’s dead. I haven’t seen Julius in two some years. Said he wanted to visit the city. Never came back - I hope he likes it there.”

I almost missed the first part. For the first time in years I felt that sting in my throat.

“Marv’s dead? Wha- how?” I couldn’t believe it.

I always thought I’d be the first of us to die, what with the amount of booze I used to drink.

“Well, it was right after Julius left, me and Marv were on guard duty on this train-”

Jay interrupted, “they were robbing it.”

“Shut up, Jay! Before I have to take a finger, boy,” screamed Terry. His face was glowing red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

Regaining his composure, he said, “anyways, we catch this guy trying to open the vault and shoot him. I bent down to see if he was alive while Marv closed the safe. Then five marshals jumped out of hiding around the car. I ducked, but Marv caught one in the neck before he could get all the way to the ground. They thought he was robbing it.”

“So why didn’t they shoot the guy before you?” I asked.

Of course, his story wasn’t believable in any way what-so-ever, but I didn’t mean to question his choices in life like I guess I did. He got angry.

“Because they’re pigs and they hate us poor, honest men. I was the only one at his funeral, save the two marshals escorting me and the priest. Pieces of shit if you ask me.”

“I-I’m sorry. I would’ve come, but-”

“I know, I know. You were busy and we didn’t even know where you were. It’s fine, but I just hate that Marv died for nothing. You know I’m doing odd jobs for these pigs now? Makes you want to hate every hair on your own body…”

A long silence drifted by. All I could think about was Marv and his quirky attitude and funny walk; and man could he play that harmonica. Of all of us I always thought he’d be the one to go places, see the world. The world’s a lesser place.

I sighed. “So Julius just left? Why?”

Terry sipped down the last of his whiskey and laid the glass down, moving it around on the course wood with his finger.

“You know, I just don’t know. Cows are fatter, women prettier, and grass is greener. He never was happy with this place, you know. A few months after you left all he could talk about was New Sutton this, New Sutton, that. No one’s ever happy with what they have.”

“Very true. It’s the nature of men, Ter.”

“Ah, stop calling me Ter. We’re adults, now. Call me Terry.”

“Oh…ok, sorry-”

“And that’s bullshit. I was always happy when all four of us were together, no one cared where they were or where they were going, just that they were there and they were having a good time doing it. That’s being kids, but that’s also being men.”

“I suppose, but time catches up with us all, my friend. We can’t always be children.”

“Oh, bah to your adulthood, you’re the only reason we all split up anyway.”

I suddenly felt like I wasn’t welcome. All of this time Terry thought of me as the one who destroyed us? All I was doing was moving up so I could finally pull in enough cash to settle down; maybe come back and spread the wealth with my friends.

“What? I only left so I coul-”

“I know, I know,” he said, “sorry. I just get worked up over how shitty it is now. I always want to go back to then, run around chasing girls, drinking until my legs turned to noodles. At least Marv’d still be around. Now it’s just me.”

“Well, for all it’s worth: I’m sorry, too. I never knew I had such an affect on the group or I never would’ve left. But you can’t change the past.”

“I guess some people have the best times of their lives when they’re old and fat and others when they’re young and poor.”

Another long silence set in. Jay gave Terry a double of whiskey. I guess he felt a bit of sympathy for him, too.

“So,” said Terry, “you still going with that pretty thing from Sebastien? Uh, Marie, Margy-?”

“Mary, actually. And no, she died of pneumonia. Only a few months after I got on the road, too.”

Mary. Now that was a name I hadn’t heard in a while. A good old fashioned harlot-turned-lover story. My first love, too, as old as I was; late bloomer, and all. We had such good times, talking, drinking, playing… I met her a few years before I left and was seeing her off and on right up until the time I told her I was leaving. She wanted to go with me so bad. I was never good at saying no to women. Especially a woman with eyes as beautiful as Mary’s. Shouldn’t have taken her.

“Condolences,” said Terry, “she was a damned fine lady.” He took a sip of whiskey.

“That she was,” I said, downing a large gulp myself, “that, she was. You?”

“What? Oh, uh, y-well, you know. Not really, no. I’m not exactly a looker, here. I couldn’t get the ugliest dame in town with a mug like this unless I paid a hefty price. It’s why I don’t go to church on Sundays. Blessed is the meek my ass.”

“Bah. Everyone’s got the potential to be the most handsome man in the world. You just have to act like you’re the most handsome man in the world. I know I am. I’ve been with more women than I care to account for, Ter-er, sorry, Terry.”

“Well, in your case, you were at least contender for the most handsome man of our group, but I am by far the ugliest man in the city. I swear if there’s a God I’m going to ugly up his face for this one.”

“A little confidence goes a long way, Terry, just give it a shot.”

Jay broke in, “give it up. You’re just flat ugly, Terry.”

Before Terry could respond, a flash of lightning lit up the room followed closely by an explosion of thunder that shook the saloon to it’s very foundations.

Terry leaned back on his stool to look outside at the clock tower in the distance.

“Welp, on that note, I better go,” he said, downing the last of his whiskey.

He stood up, grabbing his coat and hat from the stool next to him and shook my hand.

“Hopefully I’ll see you again?” he asked.

“Hopefully, Terry. I’m around these parts every couple of months now with my new shift..”

I rose my glass to him as he turned and left the building, swinging the only remaining door to the saloon wide open. His outline grew thin and dark and his image faded away. Faded into the gray of a rainy day.

I never saw poor Terry again. Not once in my travels back to that very city in that very saloon at that very same time. Jay said he never came back or heard from him again after that day speaking with me. I hope he moved on to greener grasses or higher clouds.