Twist--A Dive Bar Novel(16)

Message sent two months ago:

You’re wrong about Han. And you spelled misogynist wrong.



Message received two months ago:

You’re wronger.



Message sent two months ago:

That’s not even a word. This conversation is over now. So there.

P.S. How’s things going at work? Is everything okay?

“Hey,” a new voice entered the room. Multiple pairs of heavy footsteps.

Joe recovered first, climbing to his feet. “Andre. Pat. Come meet Alex.”

The males did some handshaking, backslapping. First came a man who had to be about mid-forties at a guess. Touches of gray in his short dark hair. Wrinkles around his eyes and smile lines along his mouth. He wore navy trousers and a cool patterned button-down shirt.

“Hi, I’m Andre.” He held his hand down to me for shaking, smiling all the while. “Old friend of Joe’s. Pleasure to meet you. He’s been telling me all about you.”

“He has?” I don’t think my tone came out right on that one.

“Absolutely. Glad to see you out and about.” Andre sat, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his hands. “You feeling better?”

“I am. Thank you.”

The second guy wasn’t so friendly. Nor did he look approachable. For starters, he was covered in tats. Please note: In no way did I believe a love of ink made someone a serial killer. He was tall and lanky with long black hair, the sides shaved into an undercut. A beard, the length of which left Joe’s in the dust, obscured most of his face. And a silver ring pierced his septum. His clothes were uniformly black and kind of ratty-looking. Not unclean, just really well worn. The flat eyes and joyless mouth sealed the deal, however. Scary.

At least they made a perfectly timed distraction from Joe and my too serious discussion. Hoo ya to that.

“Hey.” The man tipped his head in my direction and sat also, plonking a six-pack of beer down beside the pizza. Immediately he broke one off, handed it to me.

“Thank you.”

“Alex, meet Pat,” said Joe, reclaiming his patch of floor. “We went to school together. He owns the tattoo parlor. Andre owns the building and runs the musical instrument shop downstairs.”

“I was downstairs with Pat, giving him a hand with the accounts.” Andre accepted a beer from Pat as well, drinking deeply. “Heard the footsteps up here and thought we’d come check things out.”

“With beer?” Joe finished off his first bottle and held a hand out for a replacement.

“You could have been thirsty robbers, ax murderers, serial killers.”

“Ghost hunters,” added Pat in a low voice.

Just like that, the guys dug into our pizza. Lucky it was big. Still, I took another slice before it was gone. Andre nodded, taking a bite. “True.”

“We did a séance up here once when we were kids.” With a sly smile, Joe moved a little closer. “Andre snuck up the inside stairs, making all these freaky noises. Scared the hell out of us.”

“That was the intention.” Andre grinned. “You little dickheads. Took me ages to get all the wax off the floor from the candles you’d been burning. Dad was pissed.”

It sounded like a soft rumbling, Pat’s laughter. Thunder coming in from a distance. Here and gone in a moment. I almost thought I’d imagined it. Nice to know the guy could manage some happy, however.

“How about the bird shit?” asked Pat, hiding what might have been a small smile behind his beer.

Muttering obscenities, Andre let his head fall back and gazed at the ceiling with a pained expression.

I gave Joe a questioning look.

“Vaughan had read in a book that you had to have a circle of thirteen candles and then sacrifice something to get a ghost’s attention. So he catches a sparrow,” said Joe. “Of course, when it comes time to end the bird, none of us could stand to hurt the poor little thing.”

“Nell was just about in tears, freaking out.” Pat studied his black Converse. “I knew she would. Brought a cricket in my pocket to sacrifice instead. It’d been eating her mom’s plants. Wasn’t going to live long anyway.”

“That’s right.” A quiet chuckle.

Andre watched Pat carefully, sipping his beer.

“The sparrow got loose and was flying around the room, going nuts. Then Andre starts in with his sound effects,” said Joe. “We lost it, bolting out of here like our asses were on fire.”

“There was wax and bird shit everywhere.” Andre laughed. “Lucky you idiots didn’t burn the place down.”

“That’s what you get for giving Vaughan a part-time job and trusting him with the keys.” Joe held out his bottle and Andre clinked his against it in a toast.

“True.”

“Has anyone ever seen a ghost here?” I asked, fascinated. Mostly disbelieving, though you never knew.

Andre’s tongue played behind his cheek. A droll, dubious look in his eyes. “There’s nothing here.”

“Tell her the truth,” said Joe, playing it serious. “What are you trying to hide?”

“Jesus.” Andre sighed. “Legend has it a guy threw himself down the staircase after getting dumped by some woman. Broke his neck.”

“Fuckin’ love,” muttered Joe. “It’ll do it to you.”

“Hmm. Grandpa said he fell. Apparently it was raining that day and the floor was slippery.” Andre drew up his legs, resting his arms on his knees. “Any building old enough is going to have a death or two in it. Though there have been unsubstantiated reports of dear old Dad still hanging around.”

Perking up, Pat narrowed his gaze on the man. “I saw something in the bar’s basement. Could have sworn someone was down there with me. And if anyone’s haunting the place, it’d be your old man.”

Hissing out a breath, Andre reached for another piece of pizza. “True enough.”

“Andre Senior loved that bar.”

“He did the mirrors on the ceiling?” I asked, loving their stories.

Andre barked out a laugh. “Got it in one. You show her the last of the graffiti in the bathroom?”

“Not yet,” answered Joe, smiling.

“The old man had a pretty relaxed decorating policy. For thirty years, anyone could leave their mark just about however they liked,” said Andre. “Made for a hell of an atmosphere.”

“Yeah, I saw the names and dates cut into the bar.”

Lots of chuckles. It was interesting, being around people who have known each other for so long. Not to say Joe was a different person around these two men, but he seemed more relaxed. Maybe it was because I wasn’t his focus for once. I could just watch him, see how he acted normally. Interestingly enough, he sat cross-legged like someone meditating, only he had a beer in his hand. But his big body was lax, the lines on his forehead, which I seemed to keep causing, gone for once.

He was just hanging, being with friends. It was lovely to see.

“Joe tells me you’ve got some good ideas for what to do with these rooms,” said Andre, blowing my calm to pieces. My gaze jumped to Joe then to Andre and back again.

“They’re just doodles, really.”

“Well, he emailed them to me and I don’t agree. I think they’re great and that we should take this project seriously.” Andre watched me with interest. “I’ve been saving for a while, got enough to cover materials if you’re willing, like Joe, to take your pay as a percentage of the profits. I think we could at least make a start up here, clearing the space, cleaning things up. Tomorrow suit you, Alex? I’m sure Joe would be happy to bring you by so we could all talk.”

“You emailed them my drawings without asking?”

“Yes,” said Joe. “Tear into me about it later, if you like. But the fact is, your work is good, Alex.”

My mouth opened. And just kind of stayed that way.

“I’ve got money to invest in something too,” added Pat in his low voice. “Especially if you’re thinking apartments. Living above the parlor would work for me. No travel time. Keep shit simple. It’d be nice to get the rest of the building fixed up, attract more customers and hopefully fill those empty shops downstairs with new businesses. Having more people around would be good for everyone’s businesses.”

Lips pressed together, Andre tipped his chin. “I’m sure we could work something out.”

“Kind of like that idea of living here myself,” said Joe. “Renting a place with Eric is getting old.”

More nodding of heads. And then all eyes turned to me.

“Honestly, they’re just an amateur’s ideas.”

“Just a visual designer’s ideas,” said Joe. “Anyway, ideas are exactly what we need.”

Andre took a gulp of beer, still nodding. “What he said.”

“Tomorrow works. Around noon, okay?” Climbing to his feet, Pat brushed off the seat of his pants. Obviously about to disappear as if everything had been decided. “Later.”

“Thanks for the pizza.” Andre followed the other man out. “Good to meet you, Alex. See you tomorrow.”

“I, ah…”

Joe just smiled.

These people. I threw up my hands. “I’m neither an architect nor a decorator. Mostly I just design logos and stuff.”