Eulogy of Lost Souls

Prologue

As I rounded the corner of the bar, I noticed Kenny sitting in his normal spot. Seeing him there didn’t exactly startle me. He was there every day.

Every freakin’ day.

“Hey, Boss!” he announced the moment he saw me.

“Hey, Kenny,” I replied. “How ya doing today?”

“Oh, okay I guess,” he shrugged. “There’s a weird vibe in the air today. It’s throwing me off.”

“A weird vibe?” I questioned. He raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You mean you can’t feel it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Pursing my lips, I thought for a moment, then shook my head. He shrugged once more and twirled his finger in the air.

“Well, it’s out there. Just like … just like …”

Kenny never had a chance to finish his thoughts. We both turned towards the entrance when we heard movement at the door.

Stepping into the bar the figure’s form seemed familiar. Being early afternoon, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming into the darkness. Eventually I recognized the man.

“Hey, Benny!” I shouted down the way. Not that I needed to. It was early and there was literally no one in the bar to shout over.

“Hey, Jim,” he waved as he continued his pace.

“Well, fuck. There goes the neighborhood,” Kenny remarked as Benny moved past him. This earned Kenny a harsh glare from yours truly.

Pausing momentarily, Benny stared at Kenny’s seat. After a second of consideration, he shook his head and continued his march. Stopping opposite me, he pulled out the barstool and climbed aboard.

Once settled – cell and hands resting on the bar – I asked Benny what he was drinking. Before answering, he reached into his pocket and emptied its contents between us – not that there was much to see. On the bar sat three crumpled-up singles, a few coins, and the inevitable pocket lint.

After picking up the spendable assets, Benny brushed the fuzz to the floor then counted what he held.

“I guess … um. Let me get a Gin and Tonic, if you’d be so kind, my man.”

“Any particular gin?” I asked. Benny shook his head then picked up his cell.

“Well it is,” I remarked with a nod. Turning, I started to fulfill his need.

Grabbing the cheapest gin we carried, I snagged a small glass then poured a decent amount of liquor into the receptacle. After adding some ice, I latched onto the soda gun and topped off the drink with tonic. As a final sentiment I walked down the counter and reached for a slice of lime.

“No fruit, please,” Benny called out, making me stop mid-grab. Lifting the glass, I walked back and placed the drink in front of my client.

“Thanks, man,” Benny said as he snatched the vessel. Putting it to his lips he practically drank the entire thing in a single slug.

Like any good bartender, I stood there for a moment waiting for the inevitable. I knew from my years of experience in reading people that Benny needed my ear more than any drink I could sling. It took a few moments for his mouth to clear, his thoughts to congeal, and his lips to move.

“So, yeah … I lost my job today,” he stated almost matter-of-factly with only a hint of derision. A little strange considering he’d told me in the past that he liked his job.

“Oh. Damn. Sorry to hear that, man,” I sincerely replied. Placing my hands on the edge of the bar, I leaned in closer and waited for more.

“Eh, it is what it is, I suppose,” he said as he bent back and folded his arms. “I was spare baggage and kind of felt that it was only a matter of time before they let me go.”

“Well, either way, it sucks. Sorry, man,” I replied.

Benny returned a half smile and a nod, then drained the last of his drink.

Although Benny had told me about his job in the past, I didn’t know the man very well. I knew he’d been coming into the bar since way before I worked there and that he and Kenny had their history.

Beyond that though, I couldn’t tell you anything about him except that I thought he was a decent dude. He always bought rounds of shots when he was in the black, and regardless of financial status, he always tipped well.

“Anyway, I got a lead on another opportunity. With any luck I’ll be hearing from my guy this afternoon.”

“Glad to hear it, man!” I replied. Picking up two shot glasses, I held them out.

“Care for a good luck shot on the house?”

His limited smile grew wide, giving me the answer I expected.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Kenny suddenly huffed – his first commentary on the situation in hand. Instead of reacting, I just ignored him. He often shot in unsolicited analysis. Most of which I ignored.

Benny, on the other hand, pivoted slightly and momentarily glanced toward Kenny’s seat. Which, in itself, I found kind of strange. It wasn’t like Benny – or anyone else, really – paid attention to Kenny’s outbursts.

Confused by this change in events, I waited for Benny to say something. After a few seconds when he didn’t speak, I did.

“What’ll you have?”

Hearing my voice, Benny’s eyes and thoughts floated back to me. After considering my question for a hot second, he replied, “Dealer’s choice, fine sir.”

Returning a smile, I knew the game was afoot.

Pouring two shots of what I called my Purple Drink – one that consisted of blueberry vodka, a splash of grenadine, and a squelch of soda. Once the cocktail was mixed, I poured us each one, said cheers, clinked our glasses, slammed the bar, then hammered the drink.

And, oh yes, I must say it was delightful.

“Thanks, man! I needed that!” Benny stated as he placed his glass down. He was about to say something else – ask for something else – when his cell started ringing.

Picking up the phone he held up a finger as he answered.

“Yeah, this is Benny,” he said, then listened for a few moments. The call continued for about half a minute with Benny throwing in a “yeah” and “uh-huh” every now and then. Eventually he hung up and turned his attention to me.

“Hey! Remember that other job I mentioned?” he smiled. I shot back a few nods.

“Well, that was it. And they want me to meet with them in an hour.”

“That’s cool, man! Good for you.”

Benny stared at his watch, then at me.

“So, yeah. I gotta go,” he announced then reached for the cash sitting between us. Holding it up he asked, “What do I owe you?”

I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Catch me next time … after you get the job.”

“No, no!” Benny shouted. “I insist!”

Doing some quick math and remembering the lack of bills he had, I replied, “Two bucks.”

“Only two?” he gave me a disapproving look.

Pushing forward everything he had, he said, “Here ya go then. Keep the change.”

“Man, that’s way too much,” I stated, pushing one of the bills back.

“Again, I insist,” he replied pushing the single back my way.

After a moment of thought, I shrugged, picked up the money, and thanked him.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he said as he dismounted and stood. Turning towards the door, he walked past Kenny, slowing only long enough to glare at the stool.

Suddenly as if remembering something, he turned, pulled off his watch, and placed it before me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Can you hold onto that until I get back?” he replied. “I don’t want to take that into the meeting.”

Before I could answer with the predictable “no,” Benny turned and ran towards the door.

“You don’t want to let him do that,” Kenny muttered, pointing at the watch.

I returned a quick, “No shit,” then picked up the watch and hightailed it around the bar.

Unfortunately, time and distance interfered with my intent. Before I could make it more than a few steps the door closed, and he was gone.

Peering down I checked out the timepiece. It was old, worn, and heavier than it had any right to be. If I had to guess, with its apparent weight, I would’ve said it was made of pure gold. Then I saw the name below the glass faceplate that turned fiction into fact.

The man had handed me an honest to God Rolex.

“Whatcha got there, Boss?” Kenny asked. As my mind tried to wrap itself around what’d just happened, I walked over to him.

“It’s a legit Rolex,” I replied holding it out so he could see the embossed logo. His eyes shifted between me, it, and the door.

“Is it me or was that … weird?” I asked, eyes following his gaze.

“See! I told ya!” he loudly stated. “I knew I felt something in the air today!”

I stared at the door for another moment, then slowly shook my head.

“Maybe you’re right, pal. Maybe you’re right after all.”

Chapter 1

The afternoon shift at the bar was hectic. It ramped up shortly after five and kept going until the night shift took the helm.

As I served my patrons, I could feel that “something” Kenny was talking about. It wasn’t anything tangible, more of a heaviness in the air. A weight that hung around me and, much to my dislike, followed me home.

From the way the day went, I wasn’t exactly surprised when I heard the knock on my door. Sure, it was late in the evening, past midnight. But I’d been expecting that inevitable “something” to make its appearance.

I was about three drinks in by that point in the early morning. A lot to some, I suppose. But for me it was light. I’d been known to drink a lot when I went out with my friends. It was the nature of the beast, really. Something that I blamed on my Irish side, but actually had nothing to do with my nationality. It was more of a condition.

One I’d lived with all my life.

I was partially dozing from drink and day when the banging started. Half asleep, I practically leaped from my couch. My eyes bolted wide as if just hit with a bucket of cold water.

Searching for the bucket wielding maniac, my mind quickly put the puzzle pieces together. After checking to make sure I was decent – you know, to verify I still had pants on – I turned from couch to foyer just as another round of knocks began.

Walking towards the sound, I turned on the hall light and peered towards the front door. The first thing I noticed through the sheer of the closed drapes was my visitor’s hair. It was off-brown, straight with just a wave – same as mine. Unlike mine though, it was long. Past shoulder length. Which is probably the reason I didn’t recognize her at first. It wasn’t until I got past the matted mane that I realized who it was. Largely, I guessed, due to the fact that I hadn’t seen her in a long while. How long, I didn’t really remember. It had to be at least a year.

Yeah, I thought. Since Christmas two years ago at Mom’s house. She’d flown up from Florida for the holidays. Something she’d skipped doing the year before.

But this – her coming here to my house without any prior notice – was something I would’ve never expected.

As I stood there staring, lost in astonishment, a third round of knocks erupted, practically making me jump out of my skin.

“Alright! Alright!” I shouted, a little frustrated from the impatience of my caller.

Walking over to the door, I placed my hand on the knob. Pausing, I stared at her form once more, still in shock at the sight. So many thoughts were running through my head like, Is this really her? Could I be confused? Could I still be asleep on the couch dreaming all this?

But, most of all, I wondered, Could this … what I was seeing … really be true?

Before my mind could question more, the door shuttered again. The movement was followed by a growl. “Jim! I know you can see me! Let me in! It’s cold out here!”

Opening the door, I stared at her figure through the screen. It looked like her … sort of. There were many changes in her way beyond the obvious. There was a look in her eyes. A weariness that spoke volumes. Also, she appeared gaunt and very unkempt, like she hadn’t had a decent meal or a good night’s sleep in months.

“Sue? What happened to you?” I uttered, staring at her in disbelief. Seeing my slacked jaw, she shifted her weight and moved her hands onto her hips.

“Dammit! Are you gonna let me in or not?”

Peering past her, I looked towards the drive to see how she’d arrived. Seeing nothing that resembled a car, motorcycle or even a skateboard, I slowly moved my eyes back to her.

“Are you … did you …” I stammered. But before I could formulate a full question, she rolled her eyes and presented the previous ask.

“Well, are you going to let me in, Jimothy?”

Dismissing her use of my childhood nickname, I paused for a second to clear the mist from my eyes. After batting my eyes a few times, I reached for the screen door and opened it wide. Before I had a chance to wave her in, Susan stepped past me as if I wasn’t there. Walking through the hall, she turned at the arch and made a beeline for the living room.

After locking the door, I paused for a second to get a grip on myself. I knew it would do no good to lose my shit then and there. Well, not until I knew more at least. Instead, I gathered my wits and quickly followed behind. By the time I turned the corner, she was already seated in my lounge chair. Walking past the coffee table that held my glass of whiskey, I sat down in my previous spot on the couch. The moment I was settled, she spoke.

“I’m cold. Do you have any tea?”

“Any … tea?” I questioned, glaring through narrowed lids.

“Yeah. Tea,” she repeated, tilting her head and staring at me like I was an idiot. “You know, like the Boston Tea Party?”

I wanted to make a rebuttal but opted not to. I knew in her state it wouldn’t go anywhere. Instead, with a shrug, I rose and strolled into the kitchen. Stopping I turned back to her.

“Do you care what type?”

She shrugged. “What ones do you have?”

“I think I have some Lipton’s. The plain stuff, you know, like Mom likes?”

“That’s fine,” she replied, wrapping her arms and shivering. “Anything warm will do, really.”

Stepping over to the cabinet above the Keurig, I pulled out the tea container. Grabbing one of the maybe dozen teabags I had left, I placed one in a cup then turned on the Keurig. Hitting the button, the machine started pouring hot water almost immediately. When hers was done I made a coffee for myself and then took both into the living room. I placed the steeping tea in front of her, sat, then pulled my coffee to my lips.

Sue watched as I drank. It was kind of eerie being stared at – even if she was my one and only sister.

Placing my cup down, I faced her. Feeling my inspecting glare, Sue’s eyes shifted away to a spot somewhere on the wall behind me. Instead of saying something to her I waited for her to start. After about half a minute, when it appeared she wouldn’t talk first, I jumped in.

“Tell me …” I started then stopped as I rethought how I wanted to approach her. It took a second to reform my wording. I decided to begin with something simple.

“Where have you been lately, Sue?”

“Been lately?” she echoed, eyes still affixed to a place just over my shoulder.

“Yes. Last time I heard from you, you were living near Tampa?”

She nodded then moved her eyes to meet mine.

“Dunedin, wasn’t it? In that apartment.”

“It’s a condo,” she corrected. “Do you remember it?”

I returned a nod.

“I liked that condo,” she said matching my nod. “I liked that place a lot,”

“You say liked,” I narrowed my eyes. “Does that mean you’re not there anymore?”