Vince

The second thing you notice about Vince — don’t mean to speak ill of the dead — is that he was late all the time, like long ways past closing which was pretty late for a small town, and that look, you know that dopehead look, like the devil’s been chasing him. The devil, he’s gotta be fast ‘cos Vince is up and out, you’d think he’d a cattle prod up his ass.

Beer’s been going flat an hour. Jimmy Onions has unplugged the jukebox, one guy left — Seminary Mike — practicing trick shots on the pool table. Then who bumps in all breathing? I am pretty much ready to go. Wife’s rules.

“Get me a beer, Beaker.” No Hello and he’s through to the rest room with Jimmy eyeballing him and Jimmy asks, some friend of yours? I had to think a minute ‘cos it depends who’s asking.

“Yeah,” I said, but you got to follow with an explanation, which feels kind of wrong. So I put 5 notes on the counter, my eyes on the shadows around the door and here’s Jimmy Onions wishing he’d closed up on time because it’s looking like trouble. Jimmy nods towards the restroom, I shrugged like now I don’t even know the guy. Regular dumb act Jimmy and me when the mayor’s boys stomp in.

“Gonna ask nicely,” says the fat one looks like he’s wearing rouge, the fatter one’s got blood out of his ear. “Where is he?”

Jimmy Onions is nervous but he keeps on polishing the counter as if it’s me they’re talking to and it’s shit to do with him.

“Who?” I said, casual but there’s two beers in front of me and the boys aren’t that slow. Rouge cheeks is intimidating up close and he doesn’t mind being close is how it seems. Smart thing to do would’ve been to back off off the stool and make some angle. The door was only ten paces for a guy in shape, that’s to say another guy. I probably wouldn’t make it.

“Jesus, I had enough of retards.”   Now Rouge’s leaning over, blocking all the light, my glasses all fogged with cheese breath. “Tell me where he is, swear to God, I will break your legs right now.” Jimmy Onions standing there like he’s going to faint and fatter guy’s bleeding on his counter. Seminary Mike now’s interested, and if it’s three of us maybe we got a chance. But Jimmy Onions’ shat himself already for sure.

“Okay,“ I am trying to buy some time. I see Rouge has got a steel bar in his hand. “Alright,” I am out of stalling. Jimmy Onions is looking at me. He was sure I would find a way out. But I am empty. I hear they whack you right on the kneecap. It hurts like shit and you never walk the same again. “He’s in the rest room” I say and I catch the eye of Seminary Mike shaking his head all disappointed. But his legs weren’t in any danger.

“Frankie, let’s go” Rouge stomped over. Fatter Frankie is pale with the blood from his ear. It’s not so much blood but he’s shaking. The beer mug’s right there. A full swing would land on that ear. I always suspected I was chicken, just didn’t know for sure till I had my hand on that  mug handle.

Rouge barges his shoulder into the restroom doors and stumbles in. Four of us were out in the bar. Jimmy Onions mopping again, Seminary Mike holds his cue like a procession cross. A minute. Two minutes. I could have just walked out.

Mike and me decide at the same time to go check. We inch the door open. Not a sound. A little further and there’s Vince sitting on the checkerboard floor. He’s trying to smoke a joint, but his mouth is all bloody. Red splotches on the walls. “Beaker, you get me that beer?” In the open stall the bulk of Rouge is the wrong way on the pedestal as if he’s riding rodeo, slumped over to one side, two bloody wounds where ears should have been.

Mike’s crossing himself and I’m trying not to step on anything.

They say you got to be crazy to steal from the mayor. Looking at Vince dragging on a sticky joint, just sitting there, there it was — the 1st thing you notice about him — a kind of innocence. “You’re free,” he says, I think to Mike. “You are forgiven.”