Blackbird

by Jessica MacIntyre

  Bending he picked up the long black object to see what it was. A belt. A woman’s belt. Now this had to be Chelle’s, but why would she have taken her belt off? Upon inspecting it more closely he noticed something that looked like dents in the leather. It was the sturdiest belt he’d ever seen made for a woman but the marks were all over it. Whatever had damaged it had happened multiple times.

  He told himself there was probably a reasonable explanation and that whatever the explanation was it was none of his business and resolved to hold it for her until he saw her again. It was a nice looking belt despite the marks and she would probably want it back.

  The smell of coffee drew him back upstairs and he dropped it on his desk before heading back out to the bar. Pouring himself a cup he sat down to drink it while reading the paper he’d picked up along the way. After taking the first swallow he spit it back out into the mug, throwing the paper aside. So much for relaxing. And why exactly did the coffee taste like brown water?

  Lifting the lid he saw the problem. He hadn’t added any new coffee or changed the filter and so he was actually drinking the water from old grounds brewed the night before. In the staff’s haste to leave they had overlooked the coffee pot. It happened a lot. He couldn’t say he blamed them too much, nobody really thinks of coffee pot maintenance in a bar. Throwing the old coffee and filer away he filled it with water and vinegar to go through a cleaning cycle and grabbed his keys. The shop down the street had better coffee anyway, and his stomach was rumbling. It was time for a donut. Preferably something filled with cream.

  ***

  It had been a rough night. After trekking all the way home in the bitter cold Chelle had arrived at the house only to see one of the neighbours being carted away by ambulance. For some reason she had yet to discover it was not just the ambulance that had shown up, but police as well. She sat across the street in the park waiting for all the excitement to die down so she could go inside, but whatever mess had been made was only wrapped up around 4:30 a.m. Everyone had gone back inside but she waited an extra half hour just to be safe. By then it was only enough time to get in, grab her bank card and get the hell back out before being seen.

  Although she had played with the idea of staying in all day she just couldn’t do it. Not that she didn’t want to, but after seeing all the commotion she became paranoid that police might be knocking on doors today sometime asking questions and she didn’t want to be there when it happened. Best to avoid the house again until tonight.

  At 7:00 a.m. she had strolled into the coffee shop and sat down. She was sitting there still when Robert walked in. She knew he was a regular here too but figured since he had put in a late night he might not also put in an early morning. What was the point of being your own boss if you were at the place round the clock? She had certainly misjudged that one though because he was as shocked to see her as she was him. He gave her a smile and a nod as he always did and she returned it, albeit more awkwardly than usual and put her eyes back down on her cup, hoping to god he wouldn’t come over and speak to her, not today. No such luck.

  “Hi,” he said, speaking softly. No sleep and the effect of three large coffees were causing her hands to shake. Body and mind exhausted she looked up, forcing herself to find some shred of dignity.

  “Hi,” was all she said as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Sure,” she said, trying not to sound like it was the exact opposite of what she wanted him to do. Maybe he was going to fire her right here and now. It would be easier in a public place after all wouldn’t it? Your employee can’t make a scene at work if you don’t fire them at work.

  Robert opened his mouth to speak but before he had a chance she cut him off. Best to get it over with, like ripping off a band aid. “You don’t have to say it.” Roberts’s eyes widened. “I’ll spare you the trouble. Please don’t say anything more. I’ve had the night from hell and I just want to sit here.”

  Robert put his coffee cup down very deliberately and traced the rim of it with one finger as he spoke. “You think you’re fired? Based on what?”

  “Well,” she stammered, “based on…last night.”

  “Based on a couple of assholes giving you a hard time?”

  “What?”

  “Those guys are never coming back. I showed them the door.” His voice had hardened as he said that, but it softened before he spoke again. “Chelle, I wish you’d said something. I mean far be it from me to pry because it’s none of my business, but if you had said something to me I wouldn’t have made you wear that stupid uniform. To be honest I wasn’t really keen on the whole thing anyway. It was Billie’s idea. People come to our bar because the drinks and the food are good, not to ogle our waitresses.” He leaned across the table slightly more. “Not that we don’t have the prettiest waitresses in town.”

  The way he said it almost sounded sincere, but she knew he was most likely just feeling guilty over the whole thing. She nodded without a smile, not wanting him to think she was dumb enough to actually believe his words. “So, I’m not fired?”

  “Not by a long shot. I can’t afford to lose another waitress. We’ve had three leave in the last month for some reason. It’s usually not like that and training people is a pain in the ass. You’re a good waitress and you know what you’re doing. I hope you’ll stay, Chelle. We’d miss you.”

  Miss her? Someone missing her would be a first. “Ok,” she said. “I’ll stay then, I guess.”

  “Good. Hey you’re scheduled to work four to close today right?”

  “Yeah. I am”

  “Well, no offense but you look like if you stand up you’re gonna fall down. You should be home sleeping. Don’t come in today I’ll get someone to cover.”

  “But you’re short.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Go conserve your energy. Monday’s gonna be a busy one. Moosheads are playing and it’ll be all hands on deck after the game lets out, especially if they win, which they will.”

  She found herself laughing. “You can see the future can you?”

  “Yeah I can see the bet I put on them falling right though my hands if they lose so they better win. Plus we make more money when they do.”

  “I can’t argue with that. When they win it’s tips o’ plenty.”

  This time he laughed. “You know it, and you don’t want to be left out. Well, I better get back,” he said standing. “Enjoy your day off. We’ll see you on Monday, ok?”

  “Ok,” she said trying to hide her smile. As he turned his back she found herself slightly flushed. Robert was not only a good boss, but he was also kind of handsome. His muscular arms peeked out from under his short sleeve tee shirt and his blue eyes were clear and soulful, his longish black hair making them stand out all the more. He had a beard too which was nicely groomed. Not too much, not too little. It was just right.

  Chelle shook her head. Was she really swooning over her boss just now? He had to be at least six or seven years older than her, not that he really looked it. And he was on a whole different level, but whatever. It didn’t hurt to look and right now she was enjoying the view as he walked away, maybe a little too much.

  Chapter Five

  Paul was standing outside the bar when Robert returned with his coffee and smiled at him as he strode up. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the good doctor. This is a surprise.”

  Paul just smiled and waited for Robert to unlock the door before following in behind him. “We have to talk about Mom,” he said when they had finished stepping inside.

  Now he was concerned. Robert’s mother was almost eighty five years old and growing frailer each time he saw her. It was getting to the point that each time he heard from one of his brothers he immediately worried. “Is everything ok?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. The queen of England came for dinner last night and this morning we took a trip to Tokyo without leaving the living room.”

  “Ah.” Robert moti
oned toward the office and Paul followed. Robert took a seat in the chair behind the desk that had once been their father’s. He had to admit he liked sitting there. It was as if he was in some position of importance over them just like their father had been. Although his brothers were more successful than he was it made him feel like the head of the family. Not that he wasn’t successful too. Owning the six busiest bars in town produced a nice profit and comfortable lifestyle.

  “I think it’s time we put her in a home,” Paul said, not looking Robert directly in the eye.

  “A home?” That was the last thing he had expected to hear. “Oh yeah that’s a great idea. Away from all her things and her dogs and her grandkids. That will really help her improve.”

  “Oh yeah. I’m sure she’ll be better in a week or two.” Paul rubbed his forehead and Robert could tell he regretted what he’d said. “We have to face facts here. She’s not getting better, only worse.”

  A lump was busy forming itself in Robert’s throat. “What about all that home care we get her? Isn’t that enough to keep her in her own home?”

  “Robert last week the worker was five minutes late to take her to an appointment and she found her walking down the street in her underwear. She’s past the point of even basic dignity now.”

  “So we’ll get twenty four hour care. People do that. We can do it for her. God knows between all of us we can afford it.”

  Paul crossed his spindly legs and pushed the wired rimmed glasses up his nose as he stared at the floor, wringing his hands. For all the confidence- and sometimes even arrogance- that Paul had over being an all-important doctor, he still struggled with the same bouts of anxiety he’d had as a teenager. “Greg and Michael are looking into homes. We could have her in as early as next week.”

  “Well it was nice of you all to consult me on that. Thanks so much.”

  “Robert, come on. None of us like the idea, but it’s necessary now. The time has come.”

  Not as far as he was concerned. “I don’t want this for her. After everything she’s done for us we’re gonna repay her this way? It’s not right. Dad would never have agreed.”

  Paul stood slamming his fist into the desk out of frustration with his baby brother. “Dad doesn’t get a vote. Dad’s dead!”

  “You know what? Thanks for telling me that too because I totally didn’t notice he wasn’t here every day in the business he built for all of us from the ground up.”

  “Oh what’s that supposed to mean? We rejected the bar business, not Dad. We wanted meaningful work. Is there something wrong with that?”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Paul sat back down, slumping in the chair. “Look, Robert, I don’t want to fight with you. You know I actually admire you for preserving what Dad created. He’d be proud to know you’ve kept it going. You’re getting married in a few weeks, Lorie is due any day now. This is supposed to be a happy time for our family. Let’s not start a war over this before then.”

  Robert softened. “Right. I don’t want to do that. How is Lorie?”

  “On bed rest until it happens.”

  “Oh no. Is that bad?”

  “No, just a precaution that’s all. Everything should be fine. Listen, I know this upsets you. You’re closer to mom than any of us. Why don’t we all get together and discuss it as a family over dinner tonight. Just live with the idea for today and don’t freak out until we all get together and weigh our options.”

  He still didn’t like the idea but for the moment he was glad to have a breather from it. Perhaps he could talk them out of it over dinner. “Ok,” he said. “That might be a better plan.”

  Paul leaned over looking more closely at him now. “You look like shit by the way.”

  “Thanks, bro. Your bedside manner must be a real hit down at the hospital.”

  “Are you sleeping? This is a high pressure job right here. I worry for you. You’re just like Dad. You want to do everything yourself. Don’t run yourself ragged and die young.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I have lots of help. I just ended up filling in for someone that got sick last night, and it turned out to be the night from hell for one of my waitresses.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, my wife says men are pigs.”

  “They are, and we had a couple of oinkers in here last night. I threw them out and told them never to come back.”

  “Must’ve been serious.” Paul was about to say something else when he noticed the belt sitting on the desk. All the color drained from his face and he covered his mouth with his hand for a moment, looking as if he didn’t know what to say.

  “What?”

  “Robert, I’m going to ask you a question. I don’t want you to get angry, and you can’t lie.” He picked up the belt and held it, examining it as if seeing something that made him physically ill.

  Robert wasn’t sure what could have disturbed him so much about a woman’s leather belt. “Ok. Shoot.”

  “Robert, is this your belt? You have to tell me if it is. I just want to help.”

  Robert chuckled almost spitting out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. “Obviously not. Why would I have a woman’s belt? And anyway, would you love me any less if I were a transvestite?”

  Paul didn’t even crack a smile, instead he looked at Robert very intently trying to determine if he was telling the truth. “Robert, who does this belt belong to?”

  His brotherly demeanor had disappeared and his doctor persona was rearing its head. He shifted like a compass when confronted with a crisis. “One of my waitresses left it here last night. I picked it up off the floor.”

  “Off the floor eh? Robert, do you drug test your employees?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Well you might want to start. See these little indents? Those are teeth marks. I’ve seen this before. Looks like someone has a nasty little heroin problem.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How would that tell you she has a heroin problem?”

  Paul proceeded to tie the belt around his upper arm, pulling it tightly with one end in his mouth and feigning a needle with his finger, crooking his thumb to simulate an injection. “See what I mean?”

  Robert was shocked. For a moment he just sat there unable to say a word. “Yeah…yeah I see it now.”

  Paul placed the belt back down gently on the desk. “Robert, do you like this person? I mean would it be someone you’d want to help? Because if you need me to I can pull some strings, get them a bed in rehab ASAP.”

  “What? Um, yeah I like this person. I like her very much.” He did, and there was no way he could wrap his mind around Chelle as a drug addict. She just seemed too clear headed for that. “I mean, I don’t know for sure. I can’t just come out and ask her. Can I?”

  “Well, it depends how well you know her. Or you could just do mandatory drug tests. Lots of places are doing it now. You’ve gotta protect your investment.” Robert didn’t like the sound of that. In the name of ‘protecting his investment’ he could end up insulting the entire staff. Sure lots of places drug tested but they never had, and he knew the employees wouldn’t take kindly to it, and besides, what people did in their off time was none of his business.

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Well I wouldn’t recommend you think too long. Heroin is a bitch and each fix could be the last. I’ve seen them die in my emergency room numerous times. I’m sure that’s not where you want her to end up is it?”

  “No, no of course not.”

  “Look, I gotta get going. Give me a call if you need help sorting this out. I hate it when these people come in, the needle still in their arm in some cases, and I can’t save them. Tell your friend there’s no shame in getting help and anything I can do, I’ll do it. I mean it ok?”

  Robert was sitting only half listening to Paul. He was too stunned to fully respond. “Yeah. Ok.”

  “See you at dinner.” And with that Paul was gone.

  Robert leaned back in
the chair, taking the belt off the desk and staring at it. He certainly was no stranger to the seedy underworld of drugs. Some good friends had gone down that road and he’d kicked people out of his bar for doing it in the bathroom, but never would have guessed bite marks could equal a drug addiction. He just hadn’t ever thought to look at people’s belts. Who would? And as much as he’d despised his brother a few minutes ago he was happy he’d stopped by. Otherwise he would have just given the belt back to Chelle and she’d have gone on her merry way to do god knows what. It certainly might explain just why she’d locked herself in the cellar. Perhaps it wasn’t just the public humiliation that had driven her down there. Perhaps it was something more. And those awful marks on her back…

  His brain was busy thinking up dozens of drug fueled scenarios in which she’d been given them. She certainly hadn’t done it to herself. They were too precise and at too much of an awkward angle on her back to be self-inflicted. He hardly knew her, but now he was worried sick. Even if he didn’t drug test her he resolved to keep an extra close eye on her. Perhaps he could catch her in the act and offer her some help that way.

  He slid open the large bottom drawer of the desk and dropped the belt into it. It landed with a thud, the metal of the buckle meeting the drawer’s wooden frame. If that’s what she was going to use it for he certainly wasn’t going to give it back.

  ***

  Dinner passed by in a blur as the four brothers ate and drank, all of them dancing around the topic they’d come to discuss. Paul played with his salad and ran his hands through his hair nervously all evening. Michael examined the food on his plate the way he’d examine something at the lab. He looked like their father. Tall, skinny and a tad geeky. The lab coat persona had always suited him. Running the bar he would have been eaten alive. Greg ate with his usual enthusiasm as his curly out of control auburn hair flopped about on his head.

  “So, Robert, have you thought anymore about my offer? Did you talk to your employee?”