Crude Sunlight 1

by Phil Tucker

  Thomas took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. Maybe things would work out. Moving up to stand behind Buck, he watched Julia as she set her beer aside and stepped up, accepting the darts from her opponent and edging her foot up to the line. She gazed intently for a few seconds, motionless, and then threw the darts with quick, efficient flicks of her wrist. When the last hit home, she let out a cry of delight and took up her beer while her opponent just shook his head.

  "Here you go, amigo," said Buck, shoving a glass of dark beer into his hand. "Steel Rail Ale. Or something. Bartender's recommendation."

  "Thanks." They clinked glasses, drank, and Buck let out a contended sigh before slowly turning to survey the crowd. "She's over there," said Thomas, motioning with his beer to where Julia stood watching her opponent erase the scoreboard.

  "That's Julia? Huh." Buck studied her approvingly, and then turned to face Thomas. "And Henry was messing around with her? Kudos to your brother."

  "Yeah," said Thomas, and took a slow sip of his beer. "Kudos to Henry." They stood in silence until Buck nodded in the direction of the boards.

  "Come on. Let's show them how they play darts in New York."

  "They don't play darts in New York," said Thomas, following reluctantly. "They pay people to play darts for them in New Jersey."

  Buck ignored him and strode through the crowd. Rounding a pool table, he set the glass down and stepped up to where Julia stood. "Forty bucks says I beat you easily," he said jovially.

  Julia turned to stare at him, "Excuse me?"

  Buck shifted his weight, bravado rapidly sluicing away under her frank stare. "Darts. I'll play you."

  Thomas stepped up, shaking his head. "Hey Julia. This is Buck."

  "Oh," she said, "And you want to play a game for forty dollars? How about we play for the next round instead?"

  "Sure," said Buck, trying to recover, "Sounds good."

  "Ladies first," said Julia, taking the darts and stepping up to the line. Turning her head, she looked at Thomas. "I didn't think you were going to come."

  "To Buffalo?"

  "No," she said, turning back to face the board, "To Wolski's. I heard it was a long drive." She threw the first dart, and it thunked into the 1 slice.

  "Oh," said Thomas, not knowing what to say. "No, Buck convinced me."

  Julia threw the second dart. It thunked into the 20. She nodded slightly to herself, and glanced over at Buck before throwing the last dart and scoring a second 20. "You should have stayed home, Buck. You would have saved yourself some money."

  "Ha," said Buck, stepping forward to pull the darts free. "You don't know who you're talking to. Wait for it. And I'm drinking Steel Rail Ale, for your information."

  Julia didn't respond, leaning back against a column to watch as Buck tried to score a bull's eye, and got an assorted score of random points as he missed each time.

  "Steel Rail, eh?" She took the darts and gave him an amused look. "Got it." She threw, and racked up another impressive score. Buck frowned, and she smiled sweetly in response, "Should I go order that now, or...?"

  Thomas snorted, and pulled up a stool on which to perch. Julia demolished Buck quickly and efficiently, leaving the large man shaking his head as he stomped off to the bar. Julia turned to where Thomas had sat silently for most of the game, slipping her hands into her back pockets and shrugging with a sly grin.

  "What can I say? I'm good with my hands."

  Thomas snorted and shook his head in amusement. "Is that supposed to be cute?"

  Julia smiled, and took a step back to lean her shoulder against the column. "No, I'm not shooting for cute." She held his gaze and Thomas felt his face begin to burn. Completely unsure as to what to say next, he returned her smile stiffly and stared down at his empty glass of beer.

  "All right, here we go, beer for Julia, beer for me, warm milk for Thomas. Who's up next?" Buck set the drinks down and rubbed his hands on the seat of his pants.

  "Thomas gets to take on the winner," said Julia, stepping forward to pull the darts from the board.

  "Show her how it's done," said Buck, sitting down on a stool to inhale half his beer. Thomas frowned, and watched Julia throw another volley of lethal darts at the crumbling cork board. The noise in the bar seemed to wash over him, to blend in with the lurid neon signs that adorned the walls and promoted different brands of beer. People were laughing, talking loudly over the music, and it all seemed at once distant, unreal, and yet incredibly immediate.

  Taking the darts, he took careful aim, feeling the beveled sides of the metal cylinder between his thumb and forefinger, and then flicked it forward. A double 17, followed by a 9, and then a double 20.

  "Not bad," said Julia, "For an old timer." Thomas winked at Buck, who raised his beer and inhaled the other half. They played mostly in silence, each intent on the game, on the score, on beating the other. Mostly Thomas would watch the board, but a few times he found himself watching Julia as she stepped up to throw, as she slowly rolled the dart between her fingers and sighted down its length at the old board. At how she eased her weight from her back leg to her front, at the way the lights seemed to catch her dark hair and bring out the red highlights.

  Julia won, and Buck let out a loud groan of disappointment. "Jee-sus, so much for New York City showing the yokels how it's done. Next round's on you, T-Dog."

  "T-Dog? Seriously?" Thomas replied. Buck grinned happily in response and Thomas was forced to laugh. He drained his beer and shook his head at Julia's wide smile. Not bothering to throw a comment her way, he threaded his way through the now-thicker crowd, waiting for a good minute or two before getting the bartender's attention and ordered another round. Standing still between the other customers, a small island of silence amidst their chatter, he thought of how normal this all seemed, how nobody here would be able to guess that tomorrow he was be going to talk to a cracked up kid and then delve into the depths of an abandoned building after his stolen brother.

  The beers were cold. Thomas paid, and when he turned he saw that Buck and Julia had abandoned the darts for a booth. Walking over, beers triangulated between his hands, he slid in next to Julia, the old leather soft and smooth beneath his thighs, and passed the out the drinks.

  "A toast," said Buck, raising his green bottle up on high. "To losing graciously like gentlemen, and to conquering new bars and beers."

  Julia paused and half lowered her drink. She looked dubiously at Buck, and then flashed a look at Thomas. "How about... to strange coincidences leading to unexpected meetings?"

  Thomas shook his head. "To Henry," he said, and clinked his bottle against theirs before they could protest. "To my brother, wherever he is." The other two nodded, and Thomas watched Julia as she drank. Setting his bottle down, he relaxed into the seat and gazed out over the bar.

  "So how'd Thomas rope you into this?" Julia asked Buck.

  "Well, I wouldn't say 'roped' is the right word," said Buck. "I was all up for a road trip and getting out of the office. I didn't have anything planned for this weekend other than some work, and hell, Thomas promised beer and adventure. How could a good friend say no?"

  "No plans but work?" asked Julia, "Really?" She smiled at him, but he lowered his eyes to his beer, going red once more.

  "Yeah, well, you know. I do go out--plenty. Just didn't have anything planned for this weekend in particular."

  "Oh," said Julia, aware of having inadvertently strayed onto thin ice, "Yeah, sure."

  Thomas leaned forward, elbows on the table, and smiled at Buck. "The man hasn't quite fallen on his feet since he left his fraternity."

  "You were a frat boy?" asked Julia.

  "Hells yeah," he said, looking up and smiling again. "Man. The stories I could tell you."

  "I bet most of them involved your getting paddled by your older brothers," said Julia.

  "What? No! It wasn't like that--the movies completely--"

  "Buck," said Thomas, "She's winding you up."

  "Oh," said Buck, l
ooking blankly from one to the other. "Oh, okay."

  Nobody spoke, each taking a drink from their beer, and then Julia shifted around to look at Thomas, a strange little smile playing on her face. "So you're married?"

  Thomas was in the middle of drinking from his beer, and looked from her to Buck without lowering the bottle. Buck raised an eyebrow and leaned back.

  "Yes," said Thomas, lowering the bottle. "I'm married."

  "How long have you been married?"

  "About three years now."

  "Huh. Three years." Julia nodded slowly as if absorbing this fact, and then began to push her bottle from one hand to the other, sliding it slowly across the table. "You guys weren't too close to Henry, were you?" It didn't sound so much like a question, but more of an opening gambit.

  "No," said Thomas, "I guess we weren't." The silence hung in the air between them, palpable despite the noise in the bar. Thomas waited for her to speak, and when she didn't, he continued. "Henry was a lot younger. Is a lot younger." He frowned and stared at his bottle, focusing on the way the light refracted through it onto the table surface. "He's a lot younger, and I guess we didn't spend too much time together growing up. I was out and in college by the time he was hitting middle school, and then I moved to New York to start work when he hit high school. Not much overlap."

  "Yeah," said Julia. She glanced up at him. "That's too bad."

  "Yes," said Thomas. He continued to frown at the bottle. "It is."

  "We'll find him," said Buck with what sounded like trembling bravado. "If anybody can find that brother of yours, it's us. We'll just buy some cowboy hats and six shooters, and go down there and give 'em hell. Talking about giving them hell, who's up for another round?"

  "I don't know. I'm thinking I should start taking it easy."

  "I'm game," said Julia, nodding to Buck. "Hit me up."

  Buck edged his way awkwardly around the table to stand up, and then looked down at the two of them. "Beer for me, beer for Julia, and as promised, warm milk for Tommy boy. Got it." Grinning, he turned and waded into the crowd.

  "Great. He's going to get me a shot of tequila." Thomas upended his beer and drained it, setting it down hard enough that it spun out from his hand in erratic circles before settling down and coming to a stop. "What are we doing, Julia? What are you doing? I thought you weren't interested in finding Henry. I thought that's why you didn't go after Eric."

  "Yeah, well." She looked at Thomas, and then past him at the crowd. "I don't know. I wasn't going to. Well, more like I wasn't going to think about it, you know? Like, just let it slide. But then you showed up, and... well." She broke off, and frowned. "I don't know. It made me think. About... well, friends. And family. About... stuff. And I decided that maybe..."

  "Maybe what?" asked Thomas.

  "Maybe I shouldn't have let it slide. Like maybe I owed Henry better than that. Maybe we all did." She looked at him then, and her eyes were hard and suddenly fierce, like when he had first met her in the campus cafeteria. "Maybe somebody out there should have gone after him. I don't know. He was... really nice, your brother. Funny, strange, but nice. Maybe I should have done more." She began to peel the label off the beer, tearing it away in ragged strips. "No, I should have done more. Not maybe. So this is a chance to do right by him, you know? To try and go back and... yeah."

  Thomas watched her fingers, long and delicate, slowly turning the bottle and tearing glittering streaks from the glass. She was utterly focused on her task. As if he wasn't even sitting there.

  "Yeah," he finally breathed. "I know what you mean." He glanced past her fingers at the brown table top, through it. "I know exactly what you mean." He felt lightheaded, not quite euphoric like he had felt in his apartment the night before, but slightly melancholy, mature beyond words, suddenly on the verge of tears. "How do things get this way? How does life just change on you just when you think you've got it all figured out?"

  From the corner of his eye he saw Julia stop staring at the bottle and look up at him. He kept staring at the table. "Each step should be a logical progression from the last, but somewhere along the line it all stops making sense." He smiled, though it hurt to smile. He felt careless, his words seeming at once brilliant and pathetic. "You get a job, you get an apartment, you fall in love, you get married. But then shit happens and suddenly everything's different. You don't even recognize yourself, you blink and your life is sliding through your hands like sand, and you just can't hold on."

  Julia sat still, watching him, and he sat looking through the table. The music and hubbub of the bar seemed to be coming from a room far, far away. Finally she spoke. "I... well, I think you're making a change now, you know? I mean, being here. You're trying to find him. That means something. I don't know what's going on in New York, but I know if Henry knew you were out here looking for him, he'd be... pleased, I guess. Right?"

  Thomas looked up and met her eyes. They were a strange green, dark but seeming to glitter in the light. He expected her to look away, but she didn't. She hesitated, and then leaned forward.

  "My mother left us when I was little--" began Julia, and then stopped abruptly as Buck strode up and suddenly loomed over the table.

  "This'll get the party started," he said, and set down three beers and three shot glasses filled with clear liquid.

  "Whoa," said Thomas, leaning back. "You serious? What is that?"

  "These," said Buck, pushing a shot glass across the table toward Julia and Thomas, "are double shots of tequila. You drink them, and then you chase them with the beers. Understood?"

  "What about the limes and salt?" asked Julia.

  "We don' need no steenkin' limes," said Buck, grinning. "C'mon. Be glad I didn't get us some prairie fires. Here we go!"

  The three of them up-ended the shots, and then grabbed the beers and swallowed quickly. Julia grimaced as she put her beer down, lowering her chin to her chest and pressing the back of her wrist to her mouth, while Buck just smacked his lips and slid in next to them.

  "Hoo-whee! Now we're talking." He looked from one to the other. "So what's up, guys? What is up?"

  "You," said Thomas, "Are getting drunk."

  "Why yes, yes I am." Buck smiled widely, showing a lot of teeth. "But that is the point, my friend. Now, what were you two little love birds talking about?"

  "We're not love birds," said Thomas, staring at Buck.

  "Hey, whatever man. Give it time. Either that, or slide aside. What do you say, Julia? Want to do another shot with me?"

  "No," she said. "I think I'm done." She was still grimacing.

  "You okay?" asked Thomas.

  "I swallowed it wrong. Excuse me," said Julia, and quickly edged out from the booth to dive into the crowd.

  "Eesh. I thought she'd be able to hold her drinks better," said Buck, shaking his head.

  Suddenly the whole night seemed wrong to Thomas. The thought of more drinks and staying in this loud bar was intolerable. He thought of Henry, and shook his head. "Man, who knows how many she had before we arrived? She's already had like five beers just with us."

  "Oh, yeah. Huh. You think I shouldn't have bought the shots? My bad, amigo. "

  "I don't know." Thomas sat back, and closed his eyes. He felt exhausted. "I'm sorry. I'm just not in the right headspace to enjoy this. You mind if we get out of here?"

  "Yeah, sure, Thomas, sure. You think we should make sure Julia gets home?"

  Thomas nodded. "Yeah. Let's make sure she's okay, then we can call her a cab."

  "Yeah, okay. I'll go close the tab, and then we can get out of here."

  Thomas nodded. Exhaustion was swallowing him whole, settling over his shoulders like a cape of lead. He felt as if he could go to sleep right there. Just go to sleep, and let all the noise and complications slide away into nothing.

  Chapter 10

  They were silent the next morning as they rolled down the streets toward Eric's house. Hollow homes filed past, made of broken boards and topped off with rotten roofs, the ca
r moving with velvety smoothness over the potholes and miniature chasms which covered the surface of the road. The sky was overcast, pale and chalky white like the inside of an old iron kettle, and Thomas felt it pushing down on them, a ceiling that would descend and smother them when they weren't watching.

  Julia sat upfront, a large cup of coffee clasped between her hands, while Buck snoozed in the back seat, his head lolling from side to side as the car took corners, his mouth agape, his large hands loose and open by his thighs. He'd gone into the hotel bar for a couple of goodnight rounds, leaving Thomas to fall asleep alone in the hotel room, thankful for the absence of his friend's haunting snores.

  Cracked windows and dusty lots held back behind swaybacked chain link fences. An abandoned church passed them on the left, the white paint gone to gray and streaked with the red rust of nails sunken into the boards. Storefronts shuttered closed as often as they were open for business, and suspicious gazes from blank faces tracking them as they drove down the street, creeping along behind ancient Cadillacs and Victoria Towncars.

  Finally Thomas pulled over before Eric's house. It was as decrepit as he remembered, looming up over the street and the weed-filled yard. Killing the engine, he reached back between the seats to smack Buck on the knee.

  "Wake up," he said. Buck snorted, lifted his head, blinked and rubbed his hand across his face, pulling at his cheeks and wiping at the corner of his mouth.

  "We here?" Sitting up, he glanced out the windows, frowning as he took in the neighborhood. "Hell, are we in the Bronx?"

  Julia shouldered the door open and stepped out, letting it swing closed behind her. Thomas followed suit, and soon the three of them were stepping across the street toward the splayed gate.

  "Should we try the front door?" asked Thomas, looking at Julia. She had denied being hung over earlier on, but from her surly attitude he wasn't too sure.