Just Jack

by Meredith Russell

  The DJ would arrive in an hour to set up before they opened the second floor bar to the public, charging a small fee for the privilege. When, even in the cold weather, they would see an influx of women with skimpy skirts and perky cleavage, young men in open-necked polos or too-tight T-shirts. For now it was just the early regulars or those getting off work and relaxing with a drink or two before heading home.

  On the far side of the room sat the three ice makers. The gentle hum of the agitators circulating the water was a welcoming sound. The process of making clear ice was a slow one, but luckily Jack had both the time and the patience to let the machines do the work for him. He could have easily and quickly frozen the 300 pound blocks, but that was the problem. Shortcuts could lead to imperfections, trapped air causing the ice to freeze cloudy, and Jack was a perfectionist. Lifting the lid of one of the molds, he dipped his hand into the circulating water. His fingertips brushed the layer of ice that had formed beneath the moving surface. He would alter the angle of the filters later to allow the depth of the ice to grow.

  He lowered the lid and turned to look at the doors again. A sense of calm and purpose washed over Jack as he pulled off his jacket. He toed off his shoes, then pulled off his socks. He balled his socks together and slipped them inside his shoe before focusing on the feel of the cool floor beneath his feet. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply as he drew comfort from the chilly rush. With a smile he opened his eyes and approached the first of his ice rooms. Pulling open the door, he welcomed the blast of cold air and stepped inside. The whir of the cooling fan kicking in made him look up, and he carefully pulled the door closed behind him.

  In the center of the room, sitting on the sturdy table, sat a block of ice. Suspended within the transparent block were deep orange physalis fruits and their leafy husks. Jack stood beside the block and ran his hand over the solid surface. Crouching down, he looked at the placement of the fruits, the curve of each leaf, and the angle at which they had settled in the ice. They looked as if they had been frozen in place mid-fall. Most of the surplus ice had already been cut away, leaving him with the basic squared, chunky outline of what was to be an elephant, a centerpiece for a wedding.

  Jack walked around to the front of the ice and studied the cut lines in what was to be the head of the animal—straight front legs, a curved trunk, pointed tusks, and folded-back ears. Carefully, he pressed his hands to the front of the block and slowly drew his hands downward. The ice creaked and groaned beneath the pressure of his touch, almost vibrating as he pressed his thumbs into the marked grooves on either side of the elephant’s icy trunk. He repeated the move over and over, forcing the ice to bend to his will, until he was happy with the formed shape. With his index finger, he then drew lines across the ice, adding ridges to the curved trunk.

  When he was satisfied, he leaned back to scrutinize his work. The trunk was beautifully clear, the surface smoothed, and curves perfect. Just one alteration. He smiled. Slowly, he twisted his wrist, drawing circles around the tip of the trunk. Blue sparked in the air as he listened for the familiar chorus echoing within the room. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the cold as he worked. As the song died, Jack opened his eyes. Proudly, he ran his hand over the raised tip.

  Perfect.

  * * * * *

  “I hate him.” Leo pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand and screwed up his eyes. He blew out a breath and hugged his neat vodka to his chest.

  “I know, honey.” Ruby rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it through the thick, warm material of the jacket he’d been handed on entering the ice bar.

  “I mean—” Leo stopped as he leaned forward and the fur blanket he was sitting on slipped, almost sending him flying off the edge of his seat. Ruby had him by the arm as he held up his hands and eased himself back to lean against the cool wall. He laughed. “I am so drunk.”

  Ruby shook her head and took the glass from his hand. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Leo grabbed for his drink and broke into a fit of laughter when he fell against her. “Aw, come on. You wanted to cheer me up, and you have.”

  Ruby handed the drink to Nathan and pushed Leo to sit up. “You have a presentation tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, right before lunch or something. Loads of time to sober up.” He held out his hands and pouted. The puppy-dog eyes did the trick as Ruby conceded and handed him back his drink.

  They’d been at the bar for a couple of hours. There had been a lot of bitching, drinking, and laughter. The three of them had moved into the ice bar thirty minutes ago. He’d never been into this part of the club before, but he liked that despite the icy surroundings, he was incredibly toasty, having been given an insulating coat and gloves on entry. He was making the most of the novelty bar, visits limited to forty-five minutes at a time considering the temperature was something close to twenty degrees, or at least that’s what the pink-haired girl on the door had said. And making the most meant vodka, lots of vodka.

  Holding the glass in front of him, Leo tapped the side. The shaped ice was pretty impressive, as was the rest of the beautifully crafted bar. He could only imagine the effort.

  “Do you think anyone has ever licked the bar to see if their tongue will get stuck?” He moistened his lips as he looked at the blocks of ice crafted into a bar. The pink-haired girl had swapped working the cloakroom for the bar and was pouring vodka down a luge in the shape of a ladies heeled shoe into a waiting customer’s mouth.

  “Let’s do that.” Leo elbowed Ruby in the ribs.

  Ruby turned and eyed the man who had successfully caught the chilled shot in his mouth. “As if. You’d just end up wearing it.”

  Leo snorted a laugh. “What? You’re always telling me what a big mouth I have.” He opened his mouth to make a point and waggled his tongue from side to side.

  “Maybe give it a miss this time,” Nathan chimed in.

  “Whose side are you on?” Leo winced at the harshness of his words, but Nathan was supposed to have his back. He was supposed to be helping Leo get over Mac, not siding with Little Miss Party Pooper.

  “The side of sense.” Nathan looked at him pointedly. “You’re trashed, and it’s barely even eight.”

  He wasn’t trashed. Not yet anyway, though it sounded a great idea. “I just need to eat something,” he uttered into his drink.

  “Well, let’s do that.” Ruby crossed her legs as she leaned her shoulder against Nathan’s. “There’s a cute little Italian at the end of the block.”

  Leo smirked. “Shh, I thought we weren’t discussing Antonio in front of Nathan.”

  “What?” Nathan quirked an eyebrow. “I thought it was called Il Tramonto.”

  Ruby pressed her mouth in a line and gave a sweet squeak. She rubbed Nathan’s cheek. “You are so adorable.”

  “Huh?”

  She smiled. “Leo was trying to be funny, but he failed.” Kissing Nathan, she rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “Love you.”

  Lowering his eyes, Leo focused on his drink. Though he didn’t begrudge his friends their intimate moment, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. Mac had never been big on public shows of affection, but there were times where he made Leo feel like the most important person in the whole damn world. How had things turned to shit so easily? How could Mac alternate so easily between the perfect lover and cheating asshole? Leo had been so convinced and infatuated with the idea of love that he’d blindly followed his heart, had stupidly thought he was enough for Mac, soul mates or something equally ridiculous.

  “I need some air.” Leo got to his feet.

  Ruby grabbed his wrist. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. I just want a minute, yeah?”

  “Let him go,” Nathan said to his wife.

  Concern flashed in Ruby’s eyes, but she released Leo’s hand. “We’ll meet you back in the main bar, okay?” She held his gaze until he agreed.

  “Okay. Yes. I’ll see you out front.” He didn’t wait for eith
er of them to say anything else and headed for the exit, returning the jacket and gloves as he passed the cloakroom.

  * * * * *

  Jack stood in the open door and looked across the club. He leaned his head to one side as he caught sight of someone he recognized. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the man he’d helped earlier that day. Leo, he remembered. The man was clearly drunk as he bumped into a table, excusing his clumsiness to the people sitting at it, before leaving the club.

  “Boo.”

  Jack flinched and straightened up as someone pinched his side. He glanced at Misha and closed his eyes briefly, composing himself so as not to snap at the playful barman. Not that he needed to say anything, his expression must have been enough as Misha quickly offered up an apology.

  “It’s fine.” Jack folded his arms across his chest. “Did you want something?”

  Misha ran a hand through his dark, sweeping bangs. “I was going to take my break before I swap with Kate in Frostbite. Just checking that’s okay.” He tongued the stud in his lip as he waited.

  Jack nodded. “That’s fine.” Just like the customers, bar staff were on a time-limited stint in the ice bar. Kate had roughly thirty minutes until the end of her current shift.

  “Are you okay?” Misha asked.

  Taking a deep breath, Jack mustered what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Sorry. Just tired.” Well that was definitely a lie. He didn’t get tired, not in the traditional sense, because he didn’t need to sleep. He didn’t sleep and therefore he didn’t dream. He simply was. Fifty years of just being—unmoved, unchanged. He had so many questions about who he was. Was his situation permanent? Did he have another fifty years ahead of him? Longer?

  He cleared his throat and shook away the otherwise morose thoughts. “Get your break. Once you’ve done your time in Frostbite, I want you upstairs with the twins. People have started heading up so they’ll need the extra hands.”

  Misha nodded. “Okay.” He lingered beside Jack, seeming to work up the courage to ask, “I wondered if you and Abe had decided about whether there’s a job for me when my trial’s up.” His brow creased, and he looked at Jack through large eyes. There was a hint of apprehension behind the warm brown, and Jack was struck by how young Misha looked.

  “We’re having a meeting at the end of next week.” Jack’s expression softened. Misha wasn’t so bad. The young man worked hard and would take on anything asked of him with a smile on his face. Jack lowered his head and smiled. “But you’ve done a good job, so…” He left the sentence unfinished. He could sense the change in Misha, a confidence swelling inside the man as he smiled.

  “Thanks.”

  Jack nodded, turning his head as Misha walked past him. He watched the man for a moment before shifting his focus to the tinted-glass front of the bar. Straightening up, he tilted his head and curiously eyed what he could make out of the dark street outside. Snow was falling in light flakes, and Jack watched as there was a pulse of blue light. As the light faded, Jack was surprised when a second shone brightly before dissipating in a flurry of snow and blue sparks.

  Something felt wrong, though Jack couldn’t figure out exactly what bothered him. The lights seemed to blow away on the wind, following the sidewalk across the front of the bar until they disappeared beyond Jack’s view. Sucking on his teeth, Jack made a decision to investigate the strange display.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told Abe as he passed him at the bar. Jack didn’t hear what Abe said to him in reply. He kept walking and didn’t stop until he was standing out on the sidewalk. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the cold air. The low beat of the music playing from the second floor echoed out onto the street. Jack opened his eyes when a familiar sound joined in as part of an eerie chorus. To the left of Jack, blue lights pulsed on and off like a string of Christmas tree lights. Were they trying to show him something?

  Jack edged toward them until he found himself standing at the opening of the alley that ran down the side of the club. With a smile, he raised his hand, catching one of the lights in his palm.

  “What are you up to?” he whispered. A smile teased the corner of his mouth as he felt a small vibration against his skin. “Go on. Shoo.” He pursed his lips and blew, frowning as the light remained unmoved. “Stubborn little…” He brushed his hands together, flinching as something prickled the back of his neck. Turning around, he was surprised to find the lights clustered together.

  Jack folded his arms and tensed his jaw. He might be a trickster, but he didn’t appreciate being the butt of someone else’s joke. “All right, you little freaks, you want to play games, how about this one?” Focusing on the largest of the lights, he pointed his finger, smirking as there was a strange squeak and the light stiffened and fell to the ground. The rest of the cluster hummed as they scattered in a frenzy of bright sparks. “Yeah, you better run.”

  With a sigh, Jack eyed the fallen light. His victory felt hollow over such a small being. Carefully, he scooped up the snow where the tiny faerie had fallen and gently dusted her down.

  “Okay?” he checked.

  The familiar and welcome hum returned as the light rose from out of his palm. The small faerie circled him before darting off down the side street, gaining height and disappearing up into the night sky.

  Resting his hands on his hips, Jack looked along the alley. Someone was crouched down beside one of the dumpsters. He stepped forward when he recognized who he was looking at.

  “Leo?”

  Chapter 7

  Leo looked at his cell phone. Though Mac never showed at the office that day, he had instead sent Leo a handful of text messages and three voicemails since lunchtime. With each message, Mac sounded more and more desperate and somehow had managed to twist things into making Leo feel like it was actually his fault Mac had gone with another man.

  “Not my fault.” His voice was uneven as he leaned back against the side of the building. He should have followed his head, not his heart. His mother had always told him he was too quick to fall in love. Mac had been so charming, and yes, he had a reputation as a bit of a player, but he had been such a gentlemen, showered Leo with attention, and stole Leo’s heart.

  Leo scrolled through the messages, deleting one after the other, and he felt that little bit lighter with each one, cared that little bit less. He was drunk and emotional. Exiting his messages, he closed his eyes at the sight of the image used as his cell background. The photograph had been taken at a music festival last spring. Mac was smiling as Leo kissed his cheek. The screen faded to black, and Leo cursed his foolishness as a tear escaped through his wet lashes. Mac wasn’t worth his tears.

  What was the point of love when it hurt this bad?

  Pocketing his phone, he rested his head back against the brick wall, then slid downward. He crouched on the snow-covered ground. Reaching inside the collar of his shirt, he pressed his hand to his chest just above his heart. Was it always going to hurt like this? Love? Because if it was, he didn’t want to ever fall in love again. Mac had betrayed him, more than once, and Leo didn’t have the strength to forgive him again. How was he supposed to trust anyone anymore? He’d grown up with this notion that people were good, people were decent, and true love was a real thing no matter what anyone said. Disney princes, magic, and fairy tales—as a child he’d imagined his own prince waking him with a kiss as he pranced around his bedroom in his sister’s heels and ballerina tutu.

  Leaning back, he looked up at the night sky. He blinked as snow fell on his cheeks. Everything looked so peaceful and easy as he stared up at the dark nothingness. Clouds had covered the stars. There was nothing but dark gray above him, and in some way it helped him reach a decision. He was done with love. He was done with entrusting his heart to others and expecting them to feel the same way. Love sucked.

  A sharp pain struck him in the chest, and he curled his fist against his collarbone.

  “Sure, kick a guy when he’s down.” He grunted and briefly dipped his head before looking
back at the sky. Arching forward, he studied the blank canvas of the sky, surprised when a soft glow lit the clouds, then faded away. He raised a hand to his cheek, his fingertips brushing something solid and cold. His eye twitched as he picked at the icy scab and hissed as he eventually peeled it from his face. Tilting his head, he studied the mysterious droplet. Was that his tear? He ran his fingers up the frosty path his tear had taken. Fluttering his eyelids, he brushed at his stiffened lashes.

  What the hell? He rubbed beneath his eyes, then looked at his hands. Slowly, he curled his fingers, surprised by how heavy and solid his hands seemed. Maybe it was colder outside than he’d realized. He had been drinking, after all. He went to stand, but came over lightheaded so instead sat back down. Blinking, he looked up at the sky. The light was back, a blue glow among the clouds like muted sparks of lightning. He leaned back and watched the light, his breath clouding the air in front of him.

  Was the light moving closer? It seemed brighter, intermittent as it moved toward him, spiraling as if falling to earth, and yet it moved with a purpose, controlled almost. He closed his eyes as the chilled air stung his cheeks and waited, expecting the light to consume him.

  “Leo?”

  Leo opened his eyes, surprised to find the light was gone and instead someone was standing over him.

  “It is Leo, right?”

  “Did you see…?” He looked up at the sky. There was nothing but darkness.

  “See what?”

  Had it been real?

  Sniffing, Leo wiped at his face, his fingers tracing damp trails on his face. He didn’t understand and pulled away his hand, a hemisphere of liquid sitting on his fingertip—a tear.

  The man crouched down beside him. “What are you doing out here?”

  Leo recognized him from when he had fallen at lunchtime. “Jack.”

  Jack smiled, seemingly pleased Leo remembered him.

  Leo stared at the man beside him, his attention firmly on Jack’s eyes. Even in the low light, they appeared so bright, so blue. Spurred on by alcohol and the empty feeling inside his chest, he leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Jack’s in a cool kiss. The moment felt longer than it was, and Leo was overcome with panic when Jack gently pushed him away.