“You’re asking me? I’ve never laid eyes on any of this stuff, let alone tasted it. Your guess is as good as mine what it is … the one thing I do know is this is all alcohol. And we’ve never consumed beer, wine, or liquor. So I’d say it’s best to not get in trouble with this stuff.”
“Oh! What are ya? Scared?” she playfully teased as they moved onto the next row of shelving.
“Me? Scared? Nah. Just playing it smart.”
Chloe turned her head and resumed reading the label names aloud as they strolled by.
“Jim Beam, Johnny Walker, Maker’s Mark, Weller’s, Baker’s, Booker’s. Why don’t we pick one out and try it?”
“Ha!” he laughed. “You’re a nut!”
“I’d rather be a nut than a coward!” she declared and turned away from him with her nose in the air.
“Coward? You callin’ me a coward?”
“You? Oh, no. Never.”
“‘Cause I’m not afraid, and I’m no coward.”
“No? Then prove it.”
The challenge was made.
“All right,” Armada stated with a gleam in his eyes. “We’ll both do it at the same time. But! I get to choose what we drink.”
Chloe placed her hands on her hips and bit the inside of her lower lip as she looked Armada up and down.
“Deal!” she snarkily agreed.
“All right then, you go on and take a look around and I’ll pick one out.”
“Fine. Take your time.”
“Oh, I will. Remember now … you said anything.”
“I know. A deal is a deal.”
Chloe snootily turned around and resumed her visual investigation of the gargantuan supply of liquor. Armada went in the opposite direction to search out the winning selection.
“Sambuca, Amaretto, Kahlua…,” he heard Chloe faintly calling out, “Bailey’s, Grand Marn … Marn … Ouzo … Absinthe….”
Armada hurriedly scanned the labels on the outside of the cellophane encased boxes. While not knowing exactly what he was in search of, or what the contents would taste like, he knew that his choice had to be something powerful enough to take Chloe’s pride down a notch or two. After another ten minutes of browsing, he came upon two pallets resting side by side with a large, black-and-gold bat on one side of the pallet. Seeing the winged creature was enough justification for Armada.
“Found it!” he triumphantly shouted, “C’mon!”
He peeled the shrink wrapping off the top level of boxes, pulled back on the cardboard, and extracted a bottle. Chloe rounded the corner of the aisle he was on and observed him tucking the red-and-white bottle into his suit.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, nothing much,” he playfully replied, keeping his back to her.
“If it’s nothing, then let me take a look,” she sarcastically grunted, jumping on him.
Armada reached behind him, grabbed both of Chloe’s legs, and began spinning and hopping about. He’d jog a few paces, then jump and turn, and acted as if he intended to throw her off backwards. Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing as Armada ran up and down the aisles.
The bronco ride came to an abrupt halt as soon as the couple approached the gate to the liquor vault. However, instead of releasing her legs, Armada kept his firm grip and strutted to the bar and cocktail lounge. Chloe lowered her chin to rest on his shoulder and tilted her head to the side ‘til their skulls came in contact. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the slight bump of his stride.
“Okay,” he announced, coming to a standstill, “off you go … let’s get down to business.”
He loosened his grasp and Chloe was slow to lower her legs and slide off his back. Armada turned to face her, gave her an impromptu peck on her lips, and brashly stated, “Glasses!” and entered the bar.
“We need something to drink out of. So find us some kind of glass,” he said with Chloe close behind.
The duo looked in the cabinets above and below the bar top but found none. Chloe looked out into the lounge and spied stacks of cardboard boxes containing a multitude of glassware styles. Pilsners, champagne flutes, wine, martini, daiquiri, squall, snifters, cordials, and highball glasses were in vast supply.
She climbed over the bar while declaring, “Found ‘em,” to her beaux.
“What kind of glass do we need?” she asked as she crossed the lounge.
“Well, whatever you choose; it doesn’t necessarily have to be big. We’re not exactly drinking a whole bottle’s worth.”
Chloe checked the names of the different glasses, as well as the size.
“How about an eight-ounce highball glass?” she hollered, looking over her shoulder.
“That’s plenty big. Just grab a box, it doesn’t matter which one.”
Chloe picked up a case of twelve highball glasses and skipped back to the bar.
“Thank you,” Armada said as he tore back the top of the box. He pulled out two of the short paneled glasses, turned on the hot water, and waited for the cold water to run out.
“Hey, bartender, whatcha got to drink?” she playfully inquired.
“Oh! You’ll love it. It’s something new, and unlike anything you’ve ever tasted!”
The running water began to change temperature.
“Oooh, I’m intrigued!” she stated, pulling her knees up onto the bar stool. “What’s it called? What is it?”
“Lady, it’s so new I’ve actually forgotten the name,” Armada admitted as he ran the dirty glasses under the hot water.
“But I’ll let you be the first to see it,” he said, turning off the water.
After letting the excess water drip off, Armada turned the highball glasses right side up and set them in front of his single bar patron.
He partially unzipped his suit, spun away from Chloe, and withdrew the secret bottle.
“Oh, yes. I remember now!” he exclaimed as he turned to face her. “It’s called 151.”
He placed the shiny bottle directly in front of Chloe, as if to gain her approval.
“Well, what is 151 precisely, and what’s with the bat? Who’s Bacardi?” she inquired, inspecting the label closely.
“Don’t know, don’t know, don’t know. And … don’t care. I only picked it out because of the bat. Looked promising to me.”
Chloe held the bottle up to the light and gazed into the caramel-colored spirit.
“Shall we?” he asked, removing the bottle from her grasp.
He twisted off the metal cap and discovered a metal strainer affixed to the rim. Armada raised the bottle to his nose, inhaled, and was overcome by the aroma of the high-octane spirit.
“And?” Chloe stated as his eyes began to water.
He extended his arm and tilted the bottle toward her. She timidly leaned over and sniffed, ever so slightly.
“Spicy,” she coolly commented.
Armada slowly poured the potent distillate until the glasses were more than half full. He watched Chloe’s facial expression change from one of cocky confidence to nervous concern.
“You sure about this?” she inquired.
“Sure I’m sure. What? Are you scared? No longer intrigued?”
“No, I’m not scared!” she snapped. “It’s just that you poured so much, and … and we’ve never tasted alcohol. So….”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, pulling her glass away, “we don’t have to….”
“Hey! Put that back! I’m not wimping out … I’m simply being cautious.”
“Oh, thank you for looking out for my well-being and safety.”
Armada again placed the half-full, eight-ounce highball in front of Chloe.
“All right. Here’s how we’ll do this. I’ll count to three and we’ll drink the whole thing together, at the same time.”
“All of it?” she asked in bewilderment.
“What? Don’t tell me you sip your delightful daily supplements.”
“Oooh! No! That stuff is disgusting!”
“Then when I
say three, just tilt your head back and take it all in one mouthful. We’ll have it done in a flash.”
Chloe gave a worrisome look at the small glass of liquefied fire, then at Armada.
“Okay … let’s get it done and over with.”
They smiled at one another and raised their glasses while Armada announced the count.
“One … two … three.”
The two inexperienced amateurs closed their eyes, raised their glasses, and quickly tossed back the powerful elixir.
Chloe immediately lunged forward, placed her hands on the bar, and moaned loudly from the painful sensations her tongue and throat were experiencing. She then quickly erected herself onto her knees, wrinkled her face and puckered her lips, and flapped her hands in anguish. Armada pulled his hand up and pressed his lips together in order to avoid spitting out the rum. They stared at each other with panic in their eyes, while infernos raged in their mouths. As tears welled up, they both wanted to end their pain and suffering but weren’t willing enough to be the first to admit it.
With liquid lava in their mouths and painful waves of air entering their lungs each time they inhaled, the couple reached a stalemate of pride. In an attempt to play down the severity of the bonfire in her mouth, Chloe gently lowered herself onto her bar stool and calmly folded her arms. She unclenched her jaws, but kept her lips pressed tightly. Armada tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and breathed in and out several times. Each had successfully lowered the rum from the roof of their mouths momentarily. They were both too proud to lose, yet too chicken to swallow.
Armada lowered his eyes and stared at Chloe.
With a mouth full of rum, he tried to make Chloe laugh by saying, “Harrow.”
Chloe chuckled at the sight of Armada and the sound of his voice. Her small laugh was enough to disturb her concentration and had to lean over the bar once again to gain her composure. Chloe’s chuckle in turn made Armada laugh, causing him to partially choke and dribble some rum from his lips.
Chloe witnessed the minimal spill from his mouth. She slammed one hand on the bar, pointed at Armada, and loudly hummed “Ah-ha!”
Armada tried to object by shaking his head and humming, “Uh-uh!”
Chloe laughed harder and couldn’t keep her lips from parting. Several spurts of rum freely dribbled down her chin.
Armada now had the upper hand, and pointed at Chloe and sarcastically hummed, “Ah-ha! Ah- ha!”
He thrust his fists in the air and started dancing in a circle. His less than graceful routine was unbearable to watch, causing Chloe to laugh uncontrollably. She climbed on top of the bar, leaned over the sink, and spat out the distilled spirit. The fumes from the rum filled her lungs and what remained in her mouth scorched her throat. She jumped down behind the bar, turned on the water, lowered her mouth to the faucet, and drank heartily to wash away the taste; her tongue felt like it had been incinerated.
Armada stood and waited for his ‘drinking buddy’ to quench her thirst.
As soon as the fiery flavor was neutralized, Chloe turned off the water and erected herself.
“I bet you’re feeling mighty proud of yourself. Aren’t you?” she commented, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.
Armada had yet to ingest his shot of rum. He held his hand up to stop Chloe from speaking, then pointed to his mouth and hummed, shaking his head in the process.
“Oh, you’re kidding me. Right? It’s bad enough that I spit mine out, but you’re still gonna drink it? Just to show me up?”
“Mm mm,” he replied, nodding his head vigorously.
“You creep!” she exclaimed and proceeded to slap his biceps and pinch his waist.
“Well, c’mon then. Hurry up and drink it! Hurry! C’mon, finish it!”
“Mmmm! Mmmm!” he loudly hummed, turning away from his attacker.
“What’s wrong, tough guy?” she asked, switching her tactics from pinching to tickling.
Armada concentrated and forced the rum down his throat.
“Augh! Okay! I give up! Yuch!” he announced as she jumped on his back.
With Chloe clinging to his neck and hips, Armada suddenly straightened himself and stood very still.
“Oh, whatsa matter now? Are you….”
“Wait a minute! Stop! Hold on,” he snapped, lowering his voice.
Chloe eased herself off his back and slowly relaxed her arm from around his neck.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you smell that?” he whispered.
CHAPTER 25
SIGNS
Chloe sniffed the air and wrinkled up her nose in response.
“Oooh! What is that?” she asked, lowering her volume. “Smells like something’s burning.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. But what?”
Armada gazed across the lounge as Chloe reached out for the two empty highball glasses. Just as Armada turned to exit the bar, there was a sudden crash of breaking glass. He spun around to find that Chloe had accidentally dropped one of the glasses into the bar sink, shattering it to bits and pieces.
“Man, that scared me! Are you okay?”
“Armada … the bottle! Look at the bottle!” she nervously stated.
He stepped to the bar, picked up the bottle of rum, and turned it to examine the label.
“What?” he asked, confused, then glanced again at Chloe.
The once bright-red, white, and gold label now looked as if it had been set on fire. While the rum itself wasn’t discolored or cloudy, the colorful labels on both the neck and body were black and charred. With the face of a frightened animal, Chloe pushed herself back against the liquor cabinets.
Armada pulled the bottle to his nose and inhaled deeply.
“Hmm,” he mumbled and once again visually scanned the cocktail lounge.
“Hmm what?” Chloe inquired. “Armada!? How did that just happen? I mean, we were both standing right here.”
“I don’t have a clue. The past eighteen hours have been just as bewildering as this. Smokeless, flameless paper. Huh.”
Chloe relaxed and drew in close to him. She removed the bottle from his hand, inspected the labels, and took a whiff. Armada peered up to the ceiling lights and repeated his statement “Nope. No smoke.”
“This isn’t the same odor,” she said, smelling the label, then held it up for Armada.
“You’re right, that’s not the same odor. To me, it had kind of a bitter scent.”
“Really? I thought it smelled more like burnt or smoldering rubber … maybe plastic.”
“Yeah,” Armada agreed, then turned in the opposite direction and held his nose high in the air.
“There it is again,” he quickly stated, inhaling through his nostrils.
The couple sniffed and smelled their way to the bar entrance.
“Smells stronger over here,” Chloe commented, pointing to the gate that led to the liquor storeroom.
Armada was reaching for the gate handle when the fumes overwhelmed their senses.
“Ugh!” Chloe gasped, covering her mouth and nose. “That stench!”
They opened the ornate metal gate and cautiously proceeded back into the massive warehouse.
“Still no sign of smoke,” said Armada as he looked up at the lights.
They had barely cleared the entryway wall when Chloe grabbed his hand and exclaimed “Oh, Armada!”
They stood partially paralyzed at the sight that lay before them. Tears of fear and confusion welled up in Chloe’s eyes as she firmly clutched Armada’s hand. His heart raced and his breathing became shallow and short. They couldn’t wrap their brains around what they saw.
A mere ten minutes earlier, the two of them wandered the aisles of the storehouse admiring the amazing selection of exotic liquors. What was once a collection of every conceivable form and flavor of alcohol complete with beautiful, intricate, and detailed artwork on the boxes and outer labels now looked as if a bomb had been detonated.
“How?” she asked, appea
ring to be genuinely frightened. “We were just in here.”
“I … I can’t explain it,” Armada replied, dumbfounded.
They soon relaxed and gingerly approached the first stack of utility shelving units. When the duo came to the pallet lying on the ground underneath the lowest shelf, they knelt down to inspect it.
Armada leaned over and sniffed at the neatly stacked boxes. Chloe did the same and gently plucked at the plastic shrink-wrapping material.
“I think this is our culprit,” he declared, tapping his finger on the uppermost box.
“I agree,” Chloe added, pulling at the now brittle and blackened plastic. “But, how? What melted the plastic, and how could the labels on the boxes be scorched … without creating a flame? And no smoke?”
“And raise the temperature to combustion level but not incinerate the cardboard,” he added.
Armada ripped away the bubbly and scorched plastic, pulled back one of the top flaps, and reached into the box.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m curious.”
“So am I! I got a couple hundred questions I want answers to!” she confidently stated.
Armada extracted a bottle, examined the front label, and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she inquired as he inspected the interior of the case.
“You want answers? Well, can you answer me as to how this happened?”
With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he handed the bottle to Chloe.
“Explain that!” he proudly challenged.
Chloe took the bottle and turned it label side up.
“No!” she declared, chuckling, as she examined the glass bottle. “Shut up! Armada! This is amazing!”
“How did the label get scorched, inside the cardboard box … and the interior remain unscathed?”
Fear and confusion quickly subsided as wonder and intrigue filled their hearts and minds. Chloe set the bottle on the ground before both she and Armada tore into the cardboard case. One by one they retrieved all twelve bottles and set them down, side by side, all in a row.
“This is undoubtedly the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he announced, waving down at the line of liquor.
“You and me both,” Chloe agreed, nodding her head.
“Okay, let’s review what we know.”
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