by A.R. Wise
* * *
“Come on,” said Stephen. “Do a shot with me.”
“No,” said Jacker as he sat beside Stephen at the bar. “Honestly man, I’m good.”
“What?” asked Stephen as if Jacker had to be lying. “You’ve been driving all damn day. You’ve got to at least let me buy you a drink.”
“I’ll have a Coke.”
Stephen looked offended and ignored Jacker. “Excuse me, beautiful,” said Stephen as he waved down the lithe, pretty bartender. The girl held up her finger to let Stephen know he had to be patient.
“I should probably head up and get some sleep,” said Jacker.
Stephen grabbed his arm. “No way, pal. You’re with me tonight. Rachel went shopping, and I got the go ahead to have some beers at the bar. No chance in hell I’m going to let you take off on me. Sit your ass down, big guy.”
“Hello, gentlemen,” said the blonde haired, blue eyed bartender as she came over. She had studs in either cheek that accentuated her dimples, and vibrant tattoos curled up from under her tight shirt, over her shoulders. “What can I get for you tonight?”
“Now, how in the hell am I supposed to sit here and not ask to see your tattoo?” asked Stephen as he peered at her cleavage. “Does that go all the way down?” He elbowed Jacker as if they were sharing a joke.
“Oh boy,” said the bartender with a smile. “Are you that type of guy?” She chided him and then winked at Jacker. “Are you going to sit here asking to see my tits all night?”
Stephen held up his left hand and showed his wedding ring. “A few years ago, yes. But I’m a married man now. My friend here, however, is all sorts of single.” He patted Jacker on the back. “Maybe if we get a few drinks into him he’ll loosen up a little and start flirting with you so I don’t have to.”
“Well,” said the bartender as she smiled at Jacker. “I’ll certainly look forward to that. What am I getting you two started with?”
“How about some whiskey? I’m in a bourbon mood,” said Stephen.
“Just a Coke for me,” said Jacker.
“God damn it,” said Stephen. “Stop fighting me on this! Tell you what, darling.” He reached out and took the bartender’s arm. “Bring me two shot glasses, same size, and fill one with whiskey and the other with water.”
“Uh oh,” said the bartender. “Looks like we’re about to witness a bar trick.”
“Zip it, beautiful,” said Stephen before he turned back to Jacker. “Here’s the deal. She’s going to get us two shot glasses, one with whiskey and one with water. The whiskey is mine, and the water is yours.”
“Okay,” said Jacker. “What’s the trick?”
“We both have to drink our own glass one minute after she serves them.”
“What’s the trick? Are you going to try to get me to turn around or something? Switch the glasses?”
“Nope,” said Stephen. “And neither of us can drink out shots before the one minute is up, and I can’t use a straw, and I can’t leave my seat. If I can get my whiskey into your shot glass before the minute is up, then you have to drink it.”
The bartender had the two shot glasses ready and waiting on her shelf on the other side of the bar. She had her lips pursed, restraining a smile, and her eyes twinkled as she looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Okay, you’re on,” said Jacker.
Stephen shouted and pumped his fist as the bartender slid the glasses over. A few other patrons gathered around them, eager to watch the trick. Stephen loved the attention, and yelled out for more people to come and watch as he took out his wallet. He showed everyone his license and then set it down on top of Jacker’s shot glass. Then he flipped the glass over, careful not to spill any of the water.
“What the heck are you up to?” asked Jacker.
“Just wait a minute,” said Stephen as he concentrated on the glasses. He set the water glass upside down over the whiskey so that his license separated the two. The crowd around them started to react to every movement as the trick proceeded, and Stephen yelled at them to trust him. Some people were saying that he was going to spill the water, but he hushed them as he pinched the edges of his license. He slid the card back just enough that the water started to slide down into the glass below. The whiskey surged up, the brown alcohol swirling into the water as the two liquids exchanged places.
“Mother fucker,” said Jacker. He was too intrigued to be upset as he watched the two liquids switch glasses.
“You know,” said the bartender. “Usually when people do this trick it’s to get a free drink, not the other way around.”
“What can I say, I’m a martyr,” said Stephen.
“So you knew this trick and you didn’t warn me?” Jacker asked the bartender.
“Hey,” she said with an innocent smile. “I was promised that if you started drinking that you’d flirt with me. What’s a girl to do?”
Stephen took off the shot glass on the top of the stack, which was now filled with whiskey, and flipped it over as the crowd applauded. He flicked his card dry and slid the shot glass over to Jacker. “Drink up, buddy.” Then he pushed the shot glass of water over to the bartender. “How about you do me a favor and fill this up with some whiskey too.”
The bartender did as asked and then Stephen held the shot glass up to Jacker. “Cheers, buddy.”
Jacker clinked his glass against Stephen’s and shook his head. “To the most manipulative bastard I’ve met in years.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Stephen before he downed the whiskey. He slammed the glass down and slid it forward. “Doctor, can I get another dose please?”
Jacker slid his empty glass forward too. “Same here.”
“That’s my boy!” Stephen slapped Jacker’s back.
The bartender was quick to fill their glasses, and started to chat with Jacker about the band on his shirt. Apparently she was familiar with them, although Stephen had never heard of the group before. He prided himself on being a great wingman, and knew when to shut up and let his friends pick up the conversation.
Jacker’s initial reservation about drinking faded fast. Within a half hour, Stephen was struggling to stay on his seat while Jacker only seemed to get a boost of energy from every newly filled glass.
“Just a Coke for me,” said Stephen when Jacker pushed him for another round.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Dude, I’m wasted. I’m not even sure I’m going to make it upstairs.”
“Hey man,” said Jacker. “You started this engine. If you pass out, who the fuck’s going to steer.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” Stephen laughed and let his forehead fall to the bar.
“Looks like he’s done,” said the bartender. The only other patrons still around were all focused on a basketball game, which the bartender seemed disinterested in. Throughout the night she had spent most of her time at their end of the bar.
“I know,” said Jacker. “He’s a lightweight.”
“It’s true,” said Stephen as he sat back up. “I talk a big game, but when it comes down to it I’m a pussy. Seriously, though, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”
“You never told me why you guys are out here,” said the bartender.
“And you still haven’t told me your name,” said Jacker.
“Aubrey,” she extended her hand across the bar. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s on mine,” said Jacker.
“Pleasure’s on mine?” asked Stephen. “Smooth, dude.”
“Sorry,” said Jacker. “All mine. I guess I’ve had a few more drinks than I thought.”
Aubrey was wiping the counter with a white towel as she talked to them. “So, what are you guys out here for? You don’t strike me as the country music type.”
“Good God no,” said Stephen.
“We’re headed to Widowsfield,” said Jacker.
Stephen thrust his elbow int
o the big guy’s side.
“Oh really?” asked Aubrey with interest. “Why are you headed there?”
Stephen groaned and set his head back down on the bar. “Well, you might as well tell her now, Casanova.”
“Sorry, man. I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“This sounds good.” Aubrey tossed the rag over her shoulder. She reached across the bar and rubbed the back of Stephen’s head. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t tell anyone your secrets. What are you two up to?”
Stephen worried that his name hadn’t come up in conversation yet, and that Aubrey had revealed their deception by knowing his name. He glanced at Jacker in concern, but the big man hadn’t picked up on Aubrey’s mistake.
“We’re doing an internet show on haunted places,” said Jacker, oblivious to the fact that Aubrey and Stephen already knew each other. It had been Aubrey that had told Stephen about Widowsfield back when he had stayed in Branson for work.
Jacker continued his explanation, “We’re headed out there to investigate the town. Do you know the story about that place?”
She nodded and snorted. “Do I? Of course I do. Everyone around here knows about it. I’ve been down there a bunch of times. I even saw that creepy green fog once.”
Stephen feigned intrigue. “Really?”
“Yep. I grew up near there. A bunch of us used to go up on a hill near the town. It was a make out area, and you could see the downtown area of Widowsfield from there.”
“Do you think you could find that place again?” asked Stephen.
“Sure, but it’s all closed off now.”
“Since when?” asked Stephen. She’d failed to mention that the last time he talked to her.
Aubrey glanced up, trying to recall the date. “I don’t know, at least five years now. A company bought the land and closed it all off. The town’s still there, but everything is fenced off now. My friends and I still broke into the town from time to time. If you know how to get past the guards you can hang out there without any trouble. So don’t worry, I can still get you in.”
“Was the company that bought the land named Cada E.I.B.?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah, that’s it,” said Aubrey.
Stephen smacked Jacker’s arm. “How about that?”
“That’s creepy,” said Jacker.
“What? What’s creepy?” asked Aubrey.
“Nothing.” Stephen quickly answered to stop Jacker from revealing anything else.
“Are you two keeping secrets from me?” asked Aubrey. “Do I need to pour a few more of these to loosen those lips?”
“No,” said Stephen. “I’m about four past done already. Hey, Aubrey, are you busy for the next few days?” He knew it was integral that he sell Jacker on the notion that this had been a chance meeting with Aubrey. His marriage had weathered a couple past transgressions, and if Rachel knew the truth about Aubrey then there could be divorce papers in Stephen’s near future.
Aubrey smirked, and then squinted as she tried to figure out why Stephen would ask something like that. “Yes, I have a job and a life. Why?”
“I’d pay you to come with me,” said Stephen.
“Wow,” said Aubrey as she took a step back and held out her hands. She smiled and was joking when she said, “This conversation has taken a turn for the worse. I’m not that kind of girl, Stevie.”
“No, not cum with me,” said Stephen.
Jacker just then realized why Aubrey was startled by what Stephen had said. “Oh! That’s fucking funny. He doesn’t mean it that way.”
“I mean, come with me in a van,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, not getting any better,” said Aubrey.
“What he means to ask is if you’d want to go with us to Widowsfield,” said Jacker. “Show us how you used to break in.”
“Yeah, that,” said Stephen as he pointed at his nose and then at Jacker.
“I know what he meant,” said Aubrey. “I was just screwing with him. Like I said before, I’ve got a job. I can’t just up and leave.”
“Then call off,” said Stephen. “I’ll make you internet famous.”
“Who says I’m not already?” asked Aubrey, but then her smile faded to a grimace. “Ew, that makes it sound like I’m a porn star or something.”
“Look,” said Stephen as he sat up and tried to pretend like he wasn’t drunk. “I’ll pay you two hundred bucks a day for three days. All you have to do is take us to Widowsfield and do an interview on camera about what you saw there.”
Aubrey studied them and crossed her arms. “Two fifty, and no funny stuff.”
“Deal,” said Stephen before he shook her hand. “We’re leaving in the morning, around eight. Give Jacker your number. I’ll have a contract for you to review in the morning, but right now I need to go pass out.”
He leaned on Jacker’s shoulder and then whispered to him, “You owe me, big guy.” He waved back at them as he headed out of the hotel bar and tried to remember his room number.
As he reached the exit of the bar, he looked back at Aubrey and smiled. She winked back, and then started talking to Jacker again.
Stephen took out his wallet and his driver’s license. He hadn’t placed the card back in the wallet because he wanted it to dry off first. Now he looked at his smiling face on the card and said, “Mr. Knight, you conniving bastard.” Then he kissed the card and slipped it into his wallet.