Z Day -3

  JAMES

  I had a skip dumpster dropped off at the house to manage the trash. I found broken furniture, old appliances, and boxes upon boxes of moth-eaten clothes. I felt like I needed a HazMat suit with everything I found.

  There was an oversized garage out back that my grandfather had built to house his travel trailer and spare truck when not in use. Both were gone now, replaced by rows and rows of plastic totes and cardboard boxes. It reminded me of the warehouse scene from Indiana Jones.

  Among everything I found, the pictures were the best. There were books and books of old portraits and Polaroid photos dating back to before the house had been built and my grandparents were teenagers. In the modern age of the digital picture, there was something about an old faded photo sitting under plastic in a book that just made you stop and stare at it for hours.

  I was the same way with books. Electronic books and the little tablets were nice for convenience and all, but nothing beat the smell of an old book. The library had been my favorite place to escape and avoid the world for the longest time. I grew up with my nose in science fiction books and my mind on faraway worlds.

  I continued to follow the photo timeline of my family, the housework forgotten. Year after year flowed as old black and white photos gave way to faded color ones, then standard color and finally digital color. I watched my sister’s youth softball teams, followed by my youth soccer teams, family vacations to Six Flags and Disney World, along with long summer days at Lake Travis. My Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps (JROTC) photos from high school caused me to grin. Seeing myself so young, already in an Air Force uniform, caused me to shake my head with embarrassment even though nobody was around.

  As I turned the page, a photo fell out. I picked it up and examined it. It was of Shae and me from my JROTC dining out. I was in my uniform, and she was in the “amazing green dress.” Yet again, she was popping up. It seemed she was woven into almost every facet of my life.

  I was so gullible back then; I couldn’t pick up on the clues and put two and two together. It couldn’t be helped though; I was just a kid, all “whoremones” and no brains. The wonderful days spent with her were every boy’s fantasy: a beautiful woman who wanted you. Too bad I was blind to what had been really going on.

  It was unsettling how strongly I still felt about her. It had been nearly 14 years since I’d last seen her, the day she disappeared without a word. Back then, I’d been used to her not showing up for weeks at a time. But when she didn’t show up after six months, I figured she was gone for good, and it destroyed me.

  Now, I had been home all of three days, and her memory had managed to pop up every single day. Each time, it tugged on that old wound just a little bit more. It seems I’d never gotten over her at all; I’d just run away the first chance I got.

  I tried to finish up the garage, but I kept getting sidetracked with things from my childhood. It was nearly midnight when I called it quits and went back inside. It was late, so I decided to take a quick shower and catch a couple of hours of sleep.

  It took a lot longer to get to sleep that night. All the family memories kept cycling through my head unbidden. I finally had to run myself through calming exercises to settle down.

  Shae invaded my dreams for the first time in years. This time, she brought the memory of Drakes with her.

  Drakes had been a regular spot for Shae and me back in the day. I had a preconception of what a “bar” was, mostly from TV and movies. Drakes was not a “bar” by those standards at all. Most of the time, it was a high-end place with soft lighting in some sections and bright light in others. It was almost as if they used light as curtains to provide just enough privacy without having a wall in the way. But occasionally, like the night Shae first took me, they had a themed night and changed the place up.

  The clientele was everything and anything. I’d seen women in business suits, rough biker types, the bohemian Austin casual dress, and even one couple in a tux and cocktail dress. You never knew what you would see when you walked into Drakes. It was like going into Walmart at 2 a.m.

  That was another thing about the place; I hadn’t seen it from the street the first time. Shae had driven, of course, and parked down off 7th Street. We’d walked a few blocks, passing a few homeless folks who seemed to give Shae a wide birth, and came to a plain white door on a side street.

  At first, I thought she was going in a back way, but later I learned there wasn’t a back way out of the place. There wasn’t even a sign. You either knew the place was there, or you didn’t. At the time, I figured it kept the “riff-raff” out as we were never bothered or jostled. There was never a brawl like you’d see on TV.

  Drakes seemed to have a constant low hum in the background, almost like brown noise. It had always been soothing to me. Several times, I had to shake myself awake as I’d constantly found myself “zoning out.” If Shae hadn’t nudged me, I probably would have nodded off more than once.

  Pulling myself from the memory, I realized I was now standing outside the door to Drakes. I figured this had to be a dream as I didn’t remember waking up this morning, let alone driving here. It was mid-morning and the streets should be full of people, but they weren’t for some reason.

  *Is this a dream?* I asked myself.

  Looking at the doorknob now, I hesitated. After Shae had disappeared for good, I’d tried coming here many times, but the door had been locked and wouldn’t budge. There was no listing for Drakes in the phone book, and everyone I asked hadn’t heard of it. I’d given up on the place, thinking it had closed.

  Now, as I stared at the door trying to figure out if I was awake or not, something told me this time would be different.

  The knob turned, and the door opened on well-oiled hinges. The interior was the exact same as I remembered.

  With a quick glance, I didn’t see anyone in the immediate area and closed the door behind me. My heartbeat sped up and my hands flexed involuntarily as my instincts told me something was wrong here. The low hum I remembered was gone, replaced with an odd guttural noise that grated on my nerves.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  I’d never been carded when I was here with Shae; as a matter of fact, no one seemed to have paid any attention to me. The bartender was the same guy no matter what time of day we had come in. Surprisingly, his name was Drake. He was a short, muscular man who I’d seen pick up someone nearly twice his size before he threw them out. Drake was always well-mannered, proper, and spoke with just a hint of an accent I could never identify. He addressed everyone as sir or ma’am, even when he was escorting them out.

  Drake was behind the bar, watching me with a passive look on his face.

  As I made my way towards Drake, it almost seemed that my feet were in thick mud or the floor was sucking on the soles of my shoes, slowing my progress with every step.

  “My, but you are a determined one, aren’t you?” Drake put down the glass he was stereotypically polishing and cocked his head. “Normally, you can’t open the door if you're not welcome.”

  I sank heavily onto a bar stool, sweat pouring off my forehead from the strain of the walk from the door. I’d never sweat in a dream before.

  “Well, since you’re here, no reason to be rude; what can I get you, sir?” he smiled, his hands dropping below the counter and retrieving a clear glass of dark bubbling liquid.

  I immediately recognized the smell of Jack Daniels mixed in with cola.

  “I apologize. I don’t have the Gentleman Jack you now prefer, but the last bottle broke last night while I was dusting,” he smiled apologetically.

  While Gentleman Jack was my current favorite, it had not existed the last time I’d been here. There was no way he could know what I now liked.

  “Ah yes, you weren’t very observant of your surroundings before. But that’s to be expected,” he tutted. “Any tap boy worth his salt would have eyes only for his owner.” Drake looked down at the drink. “Please don’t think I’d dream of trying to poison you in any way; I wouldn’t think of it, sir. No, it would also violate my neutrality, even if you are a norm.” He cocked his head, “Say, you are a norm, aren’t you?” He leaned close and sniffed.

  Automatically, I brought the glass to my lips before its cool contents began slipping down my parched throat.

  “No, not so much now, are you? Curiouser and curiouser. Just what are you?” Drake asked.

  “I guess I could ask the same of you,” I replied, finally finding my voice.

  “Oh, that’s easy, I’m a simple barkeep. I serve up tasty beverages to weary travelers and have been known to bend an ear or two on the side,” Drake smiled.

  Snorting, I took another drink.

  “Now, please, sir, don’t be rude. It’s an honest statement,” Drake held out his hands.

  “There’s honest, and there’s truthful,” I said.

  His eyes became large, and his grin widened, “Oh yes,” he purred. “But enough on the simple chit chat, unless that is what you wish…no, of course not. To the reason why you’re here...” Drake’s look soured. “I’m sorry, but my mind can’t seem to get around how you made it in here. Are you of the family?”

  “I prefer girls, actually,” I said flatly.

  Drake rolled his eyes, “How droll. I think you know I was not speaking of your sexual orientation but of THE families and no, no mafia jokes. While some similarities exist, they don’t take kindly to the joke. But no, if you were with THEM, you would walk freely here...hmmmm, let me think.”

  While Drake touched his finger to his lips, I took another drink and hoped Drake could figure out why I was here, dreaming of this place.

  “Oh hush, you know you’re not dreaming and why you’re here. Now, let me try to figure out this conundrum. Maybe….no, the clothes are all wrong,” Drake shook his head.

  “Actually, I have no idea why I’m here and—” I stopped, the glass still at my lips.

  Drake “shushed” me. “No, the skin color is wrong.” Leaning close, he tried to look over my shoulder. “No, no tail…you wouldn’t have an extra appendage, would you? Tattoo work? Humph,” Drake’s annoyance increased with every statement. “Fine, you’re looking for Shae, and she’s not here. She’s not allowed in here anymore, not since you.”

  Jack Daniels, nor cola, or any other beverage for that matter, should ever be shot from the nostrils. Not only is it painful and unhygienic, but you totally lose cool points in a bar. On the upside, I definitely knew I was awake now.

  “What?” I choked, trying to wipe the drink off my face. “What about me?”

  Drake waved the question away, “Don’t ask me that; I’m not allowed…the rules, you know. Horns, did you have your horns removed? Darn, I thought I had it that time.”

  “No, seriously, what’s going on?” I was annoyed and rose from my chair.

  Drake paused in his examination to talk to me and not at me. “Wow, 14 years, and you’re still carrying that torch? You do know what a tap boy is to one like her, right? You should move on,” Drake said.

  I don’t know what came over me, but I was over the bar and lifting Drake off the floor before I realized what I’d done. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” I growled. The drink and my emotions got the better of me. In addition, I was supposed to have taken another hit of my medicine this morning, but I was pretty sure that hadn’t happened since I was acting this frazzled. For all his bulk, Drake weighed next to nothing.

  “Now, sir, really,” as Drake said it, the background noise flared, and I could no longer hold him up. The ground that had been sucking at my shoes now sucked at my knees and pulled me to the floor.

  “I run a peaceful establishment here. This sort of behavior will not be tolerated, even by one as curious as yourself,” Drake picked me up with one hand and made for the door. “I’m sorry, but I’m forced to eject you for your behavior. Even if I wished to speak with you more, I can’t right now without risking my own rules.”

  As we approached the door, it opened of its own accord.

  “Now, once you’ve regained your composure, come back and lets you and I try this again, sir.” Then, without ceremony, Drake tossed me outside like yesterday’s garbage.

  Any pretense of this being a dream evaporated as I struck the pavement painfully. At least the horrid sound had stopped once I cleared the threshold.

  I briefly considered going back in but then thought better of it. My hands were scraped up and shaking again. I had over-exerted myself just walking into the bar. I doubted the door would open if I tried again. Instead, I picked myself up with as much dignity as I could and walked straight into a homeless man, knocking him to the ground.

  The homeless man groaned as he landed heavily on his rear. I glanced at him; he was dirty, his clothes in tatters and horribly stained. The smell coming off him was one worse than any of the third-country nationals I’d ever smelled.

  I was about to apologize and offer the man a hand, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, causing me to freeze with my hand half extended. My instincts pushed me to withdraw my hand. I saw my car down the street and hurried towards it without looking back. I had enough weirdness for one day, and it wasn’t even noon.

  I didn’t notice as the man slowly got to his feet and started to shamble after me.

  My mind was a blur as I tried to piece together what had just happened. Apparently, Drake could read my mind better than I could read my own. The bar was some sort of neutral ground, but neutral for what? It was protected by something I could not fight or even understand, for that matter. I was also pretty sure Drake didn’t know where Shae was.

  And that was it; that was why I had gone there. All the memories, one after another, dredging up the past. I did want to see her again. I wanted to know why she left me without a word all those years ago. Maybe then I could put her behind me and stop blaming her for what I had become.

  Maybe Drake didn’t know where Shae was, but I was sure he would probably know someone who would. I resolved myself to cool down and try this again later. Maybe even apologize for my reckless behavior. Yes, I decided, Drake was all about propriety. I would have to devise a good apology if I ever hoped to talk to him again.

  Now, if I could just figure out how I got here.

  I returned to the car and was gone before the shambling homeless man reached the parking lot. As my car sped off, the homeless man’s dead eyes followed me until new prey caught his attention.

  *Miria said she’d seen Shae on the news, playing a LARP,* I thought as I got on the highway onramp. *There couldn’t be that many LARPs in Austin, could there?*