Nathaniel Sewell's Blog, page 16

A Year Inside The Moon – Chapter 18 – The Fishing Boat Captain

Fishing Boat Captain

It was the last Saturday in May, and I had sat in The Moon at the bar watching a college basketball game as I romanced a cold Guinness.

“I warned them,” he said. He had a hard-edged expression, but he was not angry. He leaned his hand on the bar. I thought his fingers resembled old tree limbs.

“What happened?” Kate asked. She curiously stared up at him. “Usual, Dave? Gin and tonic.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Dave said. He was tall, and strong looking for an older man. He stared down at me. “Barfed on my boat, took them back to the Vinoy, immediately.”

“This is Rob,” Kate said. She elbowed over in my direction. “He comes in a lot, like you.”

“Hi,” I said. I shook his big hand. “What were you doing?”

“Sorry,” Dave said. “Dave, fishing captain. But today I was a nurse guide, I warned them, livewell was full of grunts, just dumb, there were groupers to be had.”

Kate returned with Dave’s cocktail.

“What did you warn them about?” I said. I lifted the Guinness. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Dave said. He sipped the drink Kate had made him. “Choppy gulf, I told them we’d be bouncing a bit,” Dave said. He leaned onto his elbows. “They didn’t pay any attention, it wouldn’t have stopped the fishing, I worked for free, today. I wouldn’t accept money for an incomplete trip.”

“Groupers good tasting,” I said.

“Yeah,” Dave said. “Remember, when you clean them, use salt water, not chlorinated water, they’ll lose the flavor.”

“Really?” I said.

“Never mind,” Dave said. “Ocean was rough, for them.”

“Hmm, not much fun,” I said. “I know better, I get seasick just standing on the pier.”

Kate had moved over near us. She had greeted some new guests.

“Another Guinness?” Kate said.

“Ah,” I said. I looked up, and noticed the basketball game was a half-time. “Why not.”

“You can manage seasickness,” Dave said. “You know?”

“I don’t like taking drugs,” I said. “How so?”

Dave nodded at me. He stood up, and turned his wide shoulders in my direction. He pointed down at my shoes.

“First off,” Dave said. “If you can, once on the boat, go barefooted, it’ll help anchor you down. And stare out at the horizon, it’ll help your inner ear.”

“Never even considered that,” I said.

“Eat something solid, nothing with acid like orange juice, stay off the booze,” Dave said. He sipped his drink. “Try to get up where you can feel a breeze, that’ll help.”

Kate chuckled at Dave.

“I don’t get it,” Kate said. “I used to go fishing with my dad, I never got seasick, went on a romantic cruise with my honey. I spent the first day in the bathroom.”

“Not much for romance,” I said.

“Where on the boat, were you in the boat’s interior?” Dave said. He had closely observed Kate. “A room without any windows?”

“Let me think,” Kate said. She adjusted her glasses, and her mouth was partially gapped open. “Been awhile back, but, yeah, we saved a bunch, figured we’d not be in the room much.”

“It was your inner ear,” Dave said. He pointed at his dark eyes. “Eyes tell you one thing, your ears sensed something else, learned that in the Navy.”

Kate nodded, and she waved over at a regular.

“Learn something new,” Kate said. “Maybe I’ll win a cruise.”

“It might be fun,” I said. “Never been on a cruise.”

“What’s your line of work?” Dave said. He nodded at me.

“Insurance, mostly,” I said. “Sometimes novelist.”

Dave grunted, he tapped on the bar.

“I’d still be in the Navy,” Dave said. He frowned. “But, my time was up, they bounced me.”

As Dave finished his drink, I had noticed on the inside of his right wrist was a trident tattoo. Beneath the tattoo, I suspected it was a specific date.

“What’s up with the pitchfork?” I said.

Dave turned his right wrist up, and he examined the tattoo. He nodded, he was quiet, and he appeared reflective.

“It’s just a tattoo,” Dave said. “Why’d you ask?”

“People and tattoos,” I said. “Some are for show, but others, the one’s almost hidden, like that one, they mean something. Those tattoos interest me, I’m just curious, but it’s none of my business.”

Dave slowly nodded, he stood up tall, and erect.

“I was a SEAL,” Dave said. He stared forward. “I don’t prefer to talk much about it, but the date, I lost one operator under my command. The date reminds me to earn my trident, every day.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I guess you’ve never barfed on a boat?”

“I have, a bunch,” Dave said. He shrugged. “I had to learn to overcome it, it’s a mental challenge, not a physical challenge.”

“Really?” I said. “Guess I don’t understand.”

Dave looked down at me.

“What do people fear the most?” Dave said.

“Death,” I said.

“I agree,” Dave said. He pointed at me. “Are you going to die?”

“Yes,” I said.

“It’s a certainty?” Dave said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Then start from there,” Dave said. “Why worry, or, why control what will eventually happen anyway?”

“Never thought of it,” I said. “How’d you stop from barfing?”

“I didn’t,” Dave said. “I kept training.”

And it was apparent to me at that moment, the one advantage aging provided was perspective.

“Train the mind,” I said. “The body would eventually catch up?”

“That’s the hard lesson,” Dave said. “As you’re body gets tired, you have to allow your mind to master it, otherwise, you fail.”

“I bet you could write a book,” I said. I sat back.

“Not how I was taught, I keep quiet,” Dave said. He grunted. “But, I’ll say this, I took a great pride in my jobs.”

Dave was an outdoorsmen, a rugged soul that I thought respected nature. And I thought he had a simple dignity.

“Everybody has a story,” I said.

“I don’t talk, because we were a team,” Dave said. “I was not our there alone.”

“I understand,” I said. “Sort of…”

“Have you ever sailed into a white squall?” Dave said.

“Never,” I said.

“What keeps you alive,” Dave said. “Training, and then more training, without that, you panic, you die. The storm will eventually move on, you have to train to overcome the fear.”

“When did it all click in your head?” I said.

“Not sure what you mean?” Dave said.

“When you stopped being afraid?” I said.

“Never,” Dave said. “That’s the training, it’s a mental challenge.”

End.

NS

A Year Inside The Moon – Chapter 17 – As They Like Selfies

 

As They Like Selfies

“What should I do?” Edwina said. She puzzlingly looked back over at me. “I think they just graduated from St. Pete College?”

“I’m no good,” I said. I had sat on my favorite cushioned chair inside The Moon. I glanced back over at the young ladies. “I don’t speak their language.”

“I don’t think they even know I’m here,” Edwina said. She covered her mouth with her left hand. “But they seem happy.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them all over St. Pete,” I said. I picked up my Guinness. “I think they’re lost in their own Arden forest, as it were, I don’t exist in their world.”

“They are definitely in their own world,” Edwina said.

“Robert Cornelius,” I said. I smirked up at Edwina. “He would be proud, I’m good at trivial pursuit.”

“Who?” Edwina said.

“First recorded selfie,” I said. I shrugged. “1839, I know, I get curious. Had to look it up.”

“You’re so strange,” Edwina said. She shook her head.

“It’s my gift,” I said. I chuckled.

Edwina had leaned back near the bar register, and she was nearby me as we watched the two young ladies happily squeezing together for a series of selfies from their smartphones camera. Edwina had strolled up earlier upon their arrival to the bar, but, they couldn’t make up their minds as to drink orders. So, they had decided to wait. And then, it was as if they were having their own impromptu photo shoot at The Moon.

“They’re both twenty-one,” Edwina said. She crossed her arms. “I’ve at least carded them.”

“Careful,” I said. “They might be Post-Millennials, an even stranger breed, than THE millennials. But if you go in, go in with confidence, it’ll throw them off. I don’t think they’re used to real human interaction.”

Edwina waved forward, and she started toward other guests.

“Maybe you should, I don’t have the time for those two,” Edwina said. “Besides, you’re harmless looking.”

I watched Edwina as she walked away, but she stopped at a large beer tap, and she looked back over at me with a smirk; as if to have encouraged me to act, and to have engaged the young ladies.

“Very well, called my bluff,” I said. I picked up my Guinness, I walked over, and sat down nearby them. “Pardon me?”

They turned away from their smartphones, but they had maintained with their hands the smartphones relative positions as if I had hit the pause button. They glanced over at me, as if I’d interrupted their private playtime.

“Don’t be creepy,” she said. She had closely cropped brown hair, almost to the point to have been mistaken her as a young boy. She was taller, fuller figured than the other girl, who was blonde, and petite.

“Sorry, I promise,” I said. I tapped at my neck to remind her she was wearing a white graduation sash. “More like congratulations are in order? Your bartender, Edwina, and I were just curious, fine arts degree?”

“Yes,” she said. She smiled. She allowed the smartphone to return to the bar top. “Finally.”

“I’m Rob,” I said. I sat up. “Graduation days a big deal, I remember graduation, before you all were born, but still, I can remember it.”

“Rosalind,” Rosalind said. She twisted her head to the side. “She’s Celia.”

“I graduated with honors,” Celia said. “In three years.”

“Cool, we just couldn’t figure it out,” I said. I leaned back. I pointed down the bar at Edwina. “We were trying to figure out why you two ended up at, The Moon? This is good spot, mind you, But why not in a crowd of friends, at a hip place.”

Rosalind and Celia frowned back over at each other. Celia nodded approval for Rosalind to have spoken, but then she changed her mind, and she looked back up at me.

“My father, Fred,” Celia said. “It was him.”

“And my dad, Duke, Sr,” Rosalind said. “Got into it, yelling, at each other at our graduation party.”

“Rosalind lives in a big house,” Celia said. “On Snell Island.”

“So, you both escaped to The Moon?” I said. I gripped the cold Guinness. “Got it, so this is pre-game after leaving home.”

“Yeah, seems like a good starting place,” Rosalind said. “Even our cousins, Orlando and Oliver, got into it, stupid.”

“Everybody,” Celia said. She frowned. “They are all at war, even our mothers disappeared. We had to leave, lame.”

“Well,” I said. I sipped the Guinness. I waved back over at Edwina. “Welcome to The Moon, you’re both safe here, we typically have a happy regular crowd.”

“Hello, dears,” Edwina said.

“Edwina,” I said. “This is Rosalind, and Celia, they just graduated, and their family party has been a bust.”

“Sorry,” Edwina said.

“Yeah,” Celia said. “Sucks.”

“Not my typical thing,” I said. I tapped on my lips with my right-hand forefinger. “But, a graduation shot of their choosing, on me, something that’s a real crowd-pleaser. As I’m certain this is just a minor part in their evenings play.”

Edwina clapped. She smiled down at the young ladies. They looked back over at me, and then up at Edwina.

“What’s your recommendation?” Rosalind said. She looked back over at me. “Are you for real?”

“I’m quite serious,” I said. “My treat.”

“You like vodka?” Edwina said. She pushed her glasses up her nose bridge. “Less dangerous, plus you have me, and not our mixology demon, Jane.”

“I’m in,” Celia said. “I like vodka.”

“You in?” Edwina said. She pointed over at me.

“No,” I said.

“Really?” Rosalind said. “You need to step-up, grandpa.”

“I’ll have one,” I said. I laughed, as I crossed my arms. “I suspect I’ll regret it, but to be clear, I’m not a grandpa.”

After awhile, Edwina returned with a two-piece metal shaker that she’d already heavily shaken as it were icy cold at the bottom. She had set out four shot glasses, and used a French strainer to fill them with a pale-green mixture.

“I’m in, too,” Edwina said. She set a shot glass in front of us. “I have to try my own creations.”

“Cheers,” I said. I held the glass up in my fingers. “To happy futures, to happy lives.”

We each drank down the shot, it was sugary, and flavorful like a minty sports drink, but with an obvious alcohol kick.

“Thanks, Rob,” Rosalind said. Celia nodded.

“Congratulations,” I said. “Edwina, that was quite good, but I think I’ll return to my safe Guinness.”

“Thanks,” Edwina said. She smiled as she moved away. “Let me know if you’d like another.”

“What’s your next steps,” I said over at Rosalind and Celia. “Career, maybe get married, have some kids?”

It was apparent by their stares, I had touched a taboo subject.

“Ah, no,” Rosalind said. “I am never, never getting married.”

“No children,” Celia said. “I laugh at the idea of getting married, I don’t get it.”

“I’m divorced,” I said. I sighed. “But, I waited into my thirties, I’d not change anything, but I understand. It’s not for everybody, I think it’s good you’re going your own way.”

“You have children,” Rosalind said. “Our age, is that what you tell them about family?”

“No, I don’t have any, by choice,” I said. “I have a simple life, but can I ask you both, what’s up with the selfies?”

They stared at me, and appeared to have carefully considered my question. Rosalind clutched her smartphone.

“It’s how we communicate,” Rosalind said. She shrugged as she glossed her fingers along the colorful case. “How we share.”

“But now,” I said. “To quote Shakespeare, ‘All the worlds a stage’, for real, and nothing disappears.”

“I’m not afraid,” Celia said. She looked at me like I was a lost puppy. “We can’t go hide, anyway.”

“I wonder were I’m at in my seven ages, I admit that,” I said. I looked back over at Celia. “My generation, Generation X, we got away with a lot more than you all can. We did a lot of the same things, but we could hide the evidence.”

“It’s a different time,” Celia said. “Embrace it.”

“You ever taken a selfie,” Rosalind said.

“Ah,” I said. “No.”

Rosalind got up, she leaned over and grabbed my left forearm. She moved me over next to Celia. And with her left outstretched arm, she clicked the smartphone with her thumb several times. She pulled the smartphone back, and she tapped on the screen.

“See,” Rosalind said. “Your pretty photogenic, dude.”

“If you say so,” I said.

“That one works,” Celia said. She pointed at the top corner of Rosalind’s screen.

“Watch me,” Rosalind said. She tapped on the screen, and she picked the photograph. “See, I just shared you with our friends, now watch all the comments?”

And another world had appeared before my eyes on Rosalind’s smartphone screen as we sat next to each other inside, The Moon. It was a new world for me with all the different faces, the unique names, the symbols. And then Celia got a text. She grumbled, and patted Rosalind.

“My dad, Fred,” Celia said. She glanced at me. “He’s decided to enter a religious rehab, and leave Duke, Sr., alone.”

“Well, then,” I said. I nodded. “Congratulations, I’m sure your friends will think you met your long, lost uncle.”

“Thanks, Rob,” Rosalind said.

“Yeah,” Celia said.

“I liked my selfie,” I said. “Have fun tonight, be safe.”

I waved goodby to Edwina, and I had left The Moon. As I walked within the crowd toward home, I had decided to bypass the brick alleyway. The crowd near the restaurants and shops were lost in their own evening, as I had quietly strolled among them. I wondered about all the different parts I’d already played in my life. And it had occurred to me that if I had not taken the time to understand someone, listen to an alternative view, or learn about something different, it would have been my fault.

END

NS

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 17 (unedited creative process, contd)

As They Like Selfies

“What should I do?” Edwina said. She puzzlingly looked back over at me. “I think they just graduated from St. Pete College?”“I’m no good,” I said. I had sat on my favorite cushioned chair inside The Moon. I glanced back over at the young ladies. “I don’t speak their language.”“I don’t think they even know I’m here,” Edwina said. She covered her mouth with her left hand. “But they seem happy.”“Yeah, I’ve seen them all over St. Pete,” I said. I picked up my Guinness. “I think they’re lost in their own Arden forest, as it were, I don’t exist in their world.”“They are definitely in their own world,” Edwina said. “Robert Cornelius,” I said. I smirked up at Edwina. “He would be proud, I’m good at trivial pursuit.”“Who?” Edwina said.“First recorded selfie,” I said. I shrugged. “1839, I know, I get curious. Had to look it up.”“You’re so strange,” Edwina said. She shook her head. “It’s my gift,” I said. I chuckled. 
Edwina had leaned back near the bar register, and she was nearby me as we watched the two young ladies happily squeezing together for a series of selfies from their smartphones camera. Edwina had strolled up earlier upon their arrival to the bar, but, they couldn’t make up their minds as to drink orders. So, they had decided to wait. And then, it was as if they were having their own impromptu photo shoot at The Moon. 
“They’re both twenty-one,” Edwina said. She crossed her arms. “I’ve at least carded them.”“Careful,” I said. “They might be Post-Millennials, an even stranger breed, than THE millennials. But if you go in, go in with confidence, it’ll throw them off. I don’t think they’re used to real human interaction.”
Edwina waved forward, and she started toward other guests.
“Maybe you should, I don’t have the time for those two,” Edwina said. “Besides, you’re harmless looking.”
I watched Edwina as she walked away, but she stopped at a large beer tap, and she looked back over at me with a smirk; as if to have encouraged me to act, and to have engaged the young ladies.
“Very well, called my bluff,” I said. I picked up my Guinness, I walked over, and sat down nearby them. “Pardon me?”
They turned away from their smartphones, but they had maintained with their hands the smartphones relative positions as if I had hit the pause button. They glanced over at me, as if I’d interrupted their private playtime.
“Don’t be creepy,” she said. She had closely cropped brown hair, almost to the point to have been mistaken her as a young boy. She was taller, fuller figured than the other girl, who was blonde, and petite.“Sorry, I promise,” I said. I tapped at my neck to remind her she was wearing a white graduation sash. “More like congratulations are in order? Your bartender, Edwina, and 
I were just curious, fine arts degree?”
“Yes,” she said. She smiled. She allowed the smartphone to return to the bar top. “Finally.”“I’m Rob,” I said. I sat up. “Graduation days a big deal, I remember graduation, before you all were born, but still, I can remember it.”“Rosalind,” Rosalind said. She twisted her head to the side. “She’s Celia.”“I graduated with honors,” Celia said. “In three years.”“Cool, we just couldn’t figure it out,” I said. I leaned back. I pointed down the bar at Edwina. “We were trying to figure out why you two ended up at, The Moon? This is good spot, mind you, But why not in a crowd of friends, at a hip place.”
Rosalind and Celia frowned back over at each other. Celia nodded approval for Rosalind to have spoken, but then she changed her mind, and she looked back up at me. 
“My father, Fred,” Celia said. “It was him.”“And my dad, Duke, Sr,” Rosalind said. “Got into it, yelling, at each other at our graduation party.”“Rosalind lives in a big house,” Celia said. “On Snell Island.”“So, you both escaped to The Moon?” I said. I gripped the cold Guinness. “Got it, so this is pre-game after leaving home.”“Yeah, seems like a good starting place,” Rosalind said. “Even our cousins, Orlando and Oliver, got into it, stupid.”“Everybody,” Celia said. She frowned. “They are all at war, even our mothers disappeared. We had to leave, lame.”“Well,” I said. I sipped the Guinness. I waved back over at Edwina. “Welcome to The Moon, you’re both safe here, we typically have a happy regular crowd.”“Hello, dears,” Edwina said.“Edwina,” I said. “This is Rosalind, and Celia, they just graduated, and their family party has been a bust.”“Sorry,” Edwina said.“Yeah,” Celia said. “Sucks.”“Not my typical thing,” I said. I tapped on my lips with my right-hand forefinger. “But, a graduation shot of their choosing, on me, something that’s a real crowd-pleaser. As I’m certain this is just a minor part in their evenings play.”
Edwina clapped. She smiled down at the young ladies. They looked back over at me, and then up at Edwina.
“What’s your recommendation?” Rosalind said. She looked back over at me. “Are you for real?”“I’m quite serious,” I said. “My treat.”“You like vodka?” Edwina said. She pushed her glasses up her nose bridge. “Less dangerous, plus you have me, and not our mixology demon, Jane.”“I’m in,” Celia said. “I like vodka.”“You in?” Edwina said. She pointed over at me. “No,” I said. “Really?” Rosalind said. “You need to step-up, grandpa.”“I’ll have one,” I said. I laughed, as I crossed my arms. “I suspect I’ll regret it, but to be clear, I’m not a grandpa.”
After awhile, Edwina returned with a two-piece metal shaker that she’d already heavily shaken as it were icy cold at the bottom. She had set out four shot glasses, and used a French strainer to fill them with a pale-green mixture.
“I’m in, too,” Edwina said. She set a shot glass in front of us. “I have to try my own creations.”“Cheers,” I said. I held the glass up in my fingers. “To happy futures, to happy lives.”
We each drank down the shot, it was sugary, and flavorful like a minty sports drink, but with an obvious alcohol kick. 
“Thanks, Rob,” Rosalind said. Celia nodded. “Congratulations,” I said. “Edwina, that was quite good, but I think I’ll return to my safe Guinness.”“Thanks,” Edwina said. She smiled as she moved away. “Let me know if you’d like another.”“What’s your next steps,” I said over at Rosalind and Celia. “Career, maybe get married, have some kids?”
It was apparent by their stares, I had touched a taboo subject.
“Ah, no,” Rosalind said. “I am never, never getting married.”“No children,” Celia said. “I laugh at the idea of getting married, I don’t get it.”“I’m divorced,” I said. I sighed. “But, I waited into my thirties, I’d not change anything, but I understand. It’s not for everybody, I think it’s good you’re going your own way.”“You have children,” Rosalind said. “Our age, is that what you tell them about family?”“No, I don’t have any, by choice,” I said. “I have a simple life, but can I ask you both, what’s up with the selfies?”
They stared at me, and appeared to have carefully considered my question. Rosalind clutched her smartphone.
“It’s how we communicate,” Rosalind said. She shrugged as she glossed her fingers along the colorful case. “How we share.”“But now,” I said. “To quote Shakespeare, ‘All the worlds a stage’, for real, and nothing disappears.”“I’m not afraid,” Celia said. She looked at me like I was a lost puppy. “We can’t go hide, anyway.”“I wonder were I’m at in my seven ages, I admit that,” I said. I looked back over at Celia. “My generation, Generation X, we got away with a lot more than you all can. We did a lot of the same things, but we could hide the evidence.”“It’s a different time,” Celia said. “Embrace it.”“You ever taken a selfie,” Rosalind said. “Ah,” I said. “No.”
Rosalind got up, she leaned over and grabbed my left forearm. She moved me over next to Celia. And with her left outstretched arm, she clicked the smartphone with her thumb several times. She pulled the smartphone back, and she tapped on the screen. 
“See,” Rosalind said. “Your pretty photogenic, dude.”“If you say so,” I said. “That one works,” Celia said. She pointed at the top corner of Rosalind’s screen.“Watch me,” Rosalind said. She tapped on the screen, and she picked the photograph. “See, I just shared you with our friends, now watch all the comments?”
And another world had appeared before my eyes on Rosalind’s smartphone screen as we sat next to each other inside, The Moon. It was a new world for me with all the different faces, the unique names, the symbols. And then Celia got a text. She grumbled, and patted Rosalind. 
“My dad, Fred,” Celia said. She glanced at me. “He’s decided to enter a religious rehab, and leave Duke, Sr., alone.”“Well, then,” I said. I nodded. “Congratulations, I’m sure your friends will think you met your long, lost uncle.”“Thanks, Rob,” Rosalind said. “Yeah,” Celia said. “I liked my selfie,” I said. “Have fun tonight, be safe.”
I waved goodby to Edwina, and I had left The Moon. As I walked within the crowd toward home, I had decided to bypass the brick alleyway. The crowd near the restaurants and shops were lost in their own evening, as I had quietly strolled among them. I wondered about all the different parts I’d already played in my life. And it had occurred to me that if I had not taken the time to understand someone, listen to an alternative view, or learn about something different, it would have been my fault. 
End.

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 16 (Unedited process)

Time in a Guinness

It was a face I had known for over twenty Aprils. It was a voice I had instantly recognized. She sat down on a wooden stool next to me. She examined The Moon bar, and she looked at the other people in my community.

“So,” she said. “This is were you spend your time?”

I nodded, I sipped the Guinness.

“Yeah, if I’m not at work,” I said. “It’s close by.”

She shrugged, she pulled at her frilly blouses lace sleeves. I had smelled the fragrance I’d given her for her birthday.

“We need to settle this,” she said. She opened her purse. She exhaled. “One more tax return, and then you’re free of me.”

“Fair enough,” I said. I nodded, I gripped the cold Guinness.

“Where has time passed,” she said. She opened a folder. She set an ink pen in front of me. “Right?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s a constant.”

“You appear well, tanned, letting your hair grow?” she said. She had slid the tax filing documents in front of me. “You have some forms to sign.”

I glanced at the government form, I noted the typed numbers in black boxes. I turned to the colorful tabbed page, I signed it in the rectangular area what would have passed as my signature in a court proceeding.

“I’m due for a haircut,” I said. I her handed back the pen, and I slid the papers back over toward her. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” she said. She scooped up the papers, neatly placed them in the folder, and carefully stuffed them into her purse.

“Can I get you something?” Kate said.

“No,” she said. She gripped the top of her pink Jimmy Choo bag that I had bought her, for an occasion I had not remembered. “I’m fine, for now.”

Kate quietly walked away, and she moved down the bar.

“Why’d you come?” I said. I stared over at her. “I didn’t need to sign those, e-signature could have worked.”

“I know,” she said. She stared down at the tiled floor. “Maybe, I just wanted to see that you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” I said. I looked away from her. “You look well, I’m happy for you.”

“Where did my guy go?” She said. She sighed, she fiddled with an antique ring, and she pursed her thin lips.

“I guess I could ask you the same?” I said. “Right?”

“Life can be cruel,” she said. She coughed. “I should go.”

We sat quietly together, and then she got up.

“Take care of yourself,” I said.

“I will,” she said. She leaned over, she softly touched my neck, and she kissed me on the forehead. I had sensed her walk away as her fragrance briefly remained behind. I watched the The Moon’s front doors open, and then it closed. Kate had moved over nearby me, she wiped the bar top off with a wet towel. She patted me on the hand.

“You’ll be fine,” Kate said. “That the former…”

“Yes,” I said. “How’d you know?”

Kate kindly grinned. She had opened her arms apart and she gripped the bar.

“It’s my job,” Kate said. She looked up above me. “I’m a professional bartender, hun.”

“I hope I didn’t insult you?” I said.

“Oh, no,” Kate said. She waved over at me. “Bartenders learn to observe people, some people just stay happy, some are angry because they want to be ugly, I guess.”

“Drunks?” I said.

“Oh, yes,” Kate said. “We have to really pay attention to them, we’re liable it they leave and go hurt someone.”

“I guess The Moon,” I said. “Helps keep me sane.”

“Ah,” Kate said. She waved at me. “Some people give up, but most are just not wanting to be alone, you know.”

“And me?” I said. “Be honest.”

Kate reached forward to softly touch my hand, again.

“Ah,” Kate said. She whispered. “And the heartbroken, another Guinness?”

“Yes, please,” I said.

End. 

NS

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 15 (Unedited)

The Dude

“How’s it goin’ brother?” He said. He was a husky middled-aged man with a significant southern accent. “Did you hear they done legalized marijuana, by presidential decree, I thought Obama was with us, but never expected The Donald, new day.”

I was seated in the Snug section, in The Moon, contemplating his statement before Jane had returned with a Guinness.

“I get it,” I said. I smirked over at him. “April fools…”

“Oh man,” he said. “I thought I had ya, names, Elwood.”

“Rob,” I said. “What’re you in town for?”

“Glad it ain’t fifteen-to-twenty,” Elwood said. He grinned. He nudged his head back toward the Vinoy Hotel. “Hemp summit, over at that fancy place.”

His blue eyes were too alive, and he lacked the aroma for having been smoking marijuana, I thought. He appeared more like a thick, happy lumberjack, with a buzzed hair cut.

“Never got into it,” I said. Jane set a Guinness on the bar top. I pointed forward a the beer. “This is my legal drug.”

“What can I get you?” Jane asked Elwood.

“Booker’s?” Elwood asked. “That’s my preferred drug.”

“Sure,” Jane said. “How do you like it?”

“Just a bit of shaved ice,” Elwood said. He pulled out a gold money clip, and tongued his thumb and pealed off a crisp fifty. “This should cover it.”

“Roger that,” Jane said. She walked down the bar searching for the master-crafted, aged bourbon.

“I don’t smoke weed, never have,” Elwood said. He took off his glasses. “Hemp farmer, back home in Winchester, Kentucky.”

“I’m from Lexington,” I said. “Or, if I hang around you for another hour, I’ll call it, lex-ton.”

“Small world, yeah, that accents down in there, hiding,” Elwood said. Jane had returned with the bourbon drink. Elwood lifted it up. “Cheers, brother.”

“Cheers,” I said. “Hemp summit? At the Vinoy.”

“Place is expensive, it’s hot down here,” Elwood said. He sipped the drink. “I needed to take a walk, found this place, it looked all right.”

“It is,” I said. I pointed over at the menu. “They’ve got some pretty good food, always consistent, and they have Guinness.”

Jane looked down at the bourbon drink.

“Nothing I can do with that,” Jane said. She tapped-out on the bar. “It’s already at its maximum density.”

“That’s why I don’t touch the stuff,” I said over at Jane.

“Ah, live a little,” Elwood said. He grinned. “Just a little Kentucky nectar.”

I set the Guinness forward. I thought about Kentucky. The leafy tobacco fields, the majestic thoroughbreds, and nature’s untouched beauty.

“I guess the cliché,” I said. “Home is where the heart is, right?”

Elwood nodded back over at me. He understood what I had meant.

“Remember, we do have all the major vices in Central Kentucky,” Elwood said. “Tobacco, bourbon, gambling at the track, and, a major cash crop, marijuana.”

“I guess your Hemp summit’s not about,” I said. “Abraham Lincoln’s father-in-law, his rope manufacturing out Old Frankfort Pike?”

“No sir,” Elwood said. “We’ve expanded from rope.”

“I’m not a big fan for legalizing pot,” I said. “Smoking cigarettes are bad, but smoking pots, okay? I don’t get it.”

An older man had entered The Moon, he had sat down next to a dark lacquered column. Jane stood in front of him.

“Industrial hemp business, we’re not in that world, I was messing with you,” Elwood said. He leaned back, and crossed his arms. “We are into non-psychoactive, CBD, the trials for CBD, and what not.”

“CBD?” I said.

“Cannabidiols, CBD,” Elwood said. “Extracted from hemp plants, and it’s NOT got appreciable THC, stuff in wacky-weed that gets you high, sorry, I just tell people that off the bat.”

“Then why are you into it?” I said. “If you’re not getting high, but then again, I drink Guinness.”

Elwood leaned forward, he scratched his nose.

“It’s been used to minimize epileptic seizures, in kids,” Elwood said. He sipped his drink. He stared down the back bar area. “I noticed it, I was a sceptic. But it helped some little kids, it was heart-breaking to watch the video they showed me. But this grandparent gets it, so, I got involved.”

I looked back over at Elwood.

“I cannot imagine a child with seizures, I’d lose my mind,” I said. I looked back over at Elwood. “But you’ve got land, you’d need a lot of land, right?”

“Yeah, got Kentucky Ag department ticket, we’re legal,” Elwood said. “Instead of tobacco, we started growing hemp. Man, Winchester’s taken off, it’s become a huge deal.”

“I’ve been there,” I said. “I guess, Kentucky’s not fifteen years behind everybody else.”

“Yeah, we’ve gotten all modern, all hip,” Elwood said. He chuckled, and he took a modest sip. “You don’t need to move back to die there.”

“Summit’s been worth your time?” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Elwood said. “I had to skip out, clear my mind, there’s several investment groups over there, lookin’ to get involved with us.”

I looked past Elwood, and watched the restaurant hostess guide a tourist group over to a large table. The waitress quickly stood nearby, and started her service routine.

“I don’t know much about it,” I said. “But I’ll guarantee big pharma’s going to take notice.”

Elwood nodded, he turned toward me.

“Follow the money, that’s what the politicians pay attention to,” Elwood said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a businessman, but drug companies are good at creating more customers, I’m not sure they share our desire to help kids.”

“Sorry, I’m sitting here thinking of one of my dogs,” I said. “I wish I’d had some of your product.”

“What’s that now?” Elwood said.

“I had a dog, she had seizures, killed me to watch her, I was powerless,” I said. “Took her in, she had a brain tumor, right behind her left eyeball. They couldn’t promise they could get it all, so we went the drug route. I got up everyday for two years, gave her human drugs, they helped, but eventually the tumor won.”

“Dogs,” Elwood said. “They are your best friend, mine was, Hank.”

“Pink Petunia, brain tumor got her, Margaret May, heart attack got her,” I said. “We cried like babies, both times.”

“Me too, when I had to put Hank down,” Elwood said. “He was in pain, I had no choice.”

“I still have her ashes,” I said.

“You know who has really gotten with the plan?” Elwood said. “Buying CBD oil like it’s catnip.”

“Parents of kids with seizures?” I said. I shrugged. “Not sure…”

“Old people,” Elwood said. “CBD has significant anti-inflammatory properties, helps with pain. I’ll tell you a secret, I gave some to friends dog.”

“Really?” I said.

“Brother,” Elwood said. “Dog started walking, before it was just laying on the floor, you know, it was painful for it to walk.”

Elwood set his drink down, he put on his eyeglasses, he tapped on his smartphone screen.

“Just so you don’t think I’m messing with you,” Elwood said. He had placed the screen in front of me. It showed some smartphone photos of a dog. “Before, and after…”

“I had no idea,” I said. “Totally clueless, which wouldn’t shock my ex-wife.”

“From what I’ve learned,” Elwood said. “Now remember, I’m a finance guy, farmer, but it’s in part our endocannabinoid system, nervous system, might help with anxiety, pain, from what our science team tells me.”

“Science team?” I said. I stared up over at Elwood.

“Hey, we’re serious about this,” Elwood said. He chuckled. He took off his eyeglasses. “This is not some fly-by-night venture. We’re into genetic testing, plant testing, trials with CBD, whole works.”

“The things I learn,” I said. I lifted my drink glass. “Drinking a Guinness down at The Moon.”

“Tell ya something else,” Elwood said. “Since I own the joint, I talked to the team, I was having real pain in right shoulder, as in it couldn’t function.”

“Oh no,” I said. “You’re not just a pusher, you’re a user?”

“Yep,” Elwood said. “They gave me some super juice, with a dropper, used it everyday, about week or so went by, guess what?”

“For real?” I said.

“I’m all in, brother,” Elwood said. “I’m pushing to make this business legal, properly regulated, to help and to protect our customers.”

“That’s really cool,” I said.

“If we help some kid,” Elwood said. “I’ll be happy.”

End.

NS

The Moon Under Water – Chapter #tbd (Unedited)

White Lillies

It was the middle of March, and the subtropical heat and humidity had moved back to St. Petersburg. The night before I had lit a scented candle to remember a friend. The next evening, I had walked across the old brick alleyways down to The Moon, not to share a Guinness, but to have quietly existed with other human-souls that had the same questions I had, and like me, they had lacked the answers.

“I can’t help but notice,” I said. As I smelled the distinct fragrance. “Your holding white lilies, they are quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, it’s the same type vase I use,” she said. She had set the vase in front of her, and next to a glass of red wine. “The originals in her room, I buy the same vases, they’re common, and yet special.”

“I’m, Rob,” I said. I had not sipped my Guinness, but it was set quietly in front of me.

“Oh, Angela,” Angela she said. She glanced over at me, she was a dark haired, brown-eyed petite older woman; she had worn all black. “I picked them, last, I grow these white lilies.”

Kate had moved over near us, she had gently admired the simple bouquet.

“You doing okay, hun,” Kate said. She glossed her hand across the bar, and on over toward Angela.

Angela had nodded back; she sat with her hands in her lap.

“As the saying,” I said. “You have a green thumb.”

“Thank you,” Angela said. She sighed. “They’re for my girl, Mary.”

And it was the soft cadence from her voice, the dark dress, and the symbolism for white lilies that I had understood that her girl, Mary now lived forever in her memories.

“Rest in peace, Mary,” I said. I looked over at the lilies.

“She was my baby,” Angela said.

“Perhaps there’s some divine force, beyond us,” I said. I pushed the Guinness away from me. “I had lit a candle for a friend, last night, her name was Ember. But it’s not the same as a child, I can’t imagine.”

Angela shrugged, she sighed.

“I come over, alone,” Angela said. “This time of year.”

“What was Mary like?” I said.

“She had beautiful, flowing brown hair,” Angela said. She stared up at The Moon’s cycling ceiling fans. “She had a smile that would light up a room. But, she was shy about it. She had kind doe like brown eyes.”

“I’m not a parent, I cannot imagine,” I said. “It sounds like she looked a bit like, Ember, she got drunk, argument, it was an accident. But, she was an employee, a friend, not my child.”

Angela nodded back over at me.

“Spring break,” Angela said. She pursed her lips. “Drank to much, you never think you’re the one that gets the police at your front door, but it was us.”

We set quietly within the bar area as people had come and gone from the The Moon.

“I wish I had the words,” I said. “But I don’t, I guess the lilies, in some way, help?”

“They do,” Angela said. “It focuses me, to speak out, to not let her memory disappear without purpose.”

“I think that’s all you can do,” I said. I nodded at Angela.

Angela turned toward me.

“I take the same route, every year,” Angela said. “I stop at her favorite places, she loved those two Banyan trees out there, she was fascinated with them.”

“I love them,” I said. I turned to look out the windows at them. “Funny, I have a little mockingbird friend that resides over there, somewhere up in the limbs.”

Angela smiled over at me. She dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex.

“Mary was my happy mockingbird,” Angela said. She pointed out at the children playing near the trees. “I gave a mother some lilies, I think she was surprised.”

“That’s kind,” I said.

“It’s not about being kind,” Angela said. “It’s with purpose, I don’t waste the white lilies, I grow them for a reason.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t understand.”

Angela stood up, she brushed off her dress. She carefully inspected through the tall windows the outside, she had pointed forward with her hand at a young woman with a stroller standing beneath the Banyan trees.

“Her,” Angela said.

“I see,” I said.

“She’s holding the lilies,” Angela said. “Look at her, they made her happy, she feels special today. Mary would have wanted that, to not waste the lilies.”

“That’s beautiful,” I said. I watched the young lady gently grasping the modest bouquet as she watched her children play.

“Thank you,” Angela said. She turned, and she sat back down on the cushioned chair. “As long as I’m able, I’ll take this trip every year, and share the white lilies.”

“Need anything,” Kate said. She looked at Angela and over at me.

“I’m fine,” Angela said.

“As well,” I said. I sat down. “I guess you slowly share this bouquet?”

“I have others that I’ve already given away,” Angela said. “I’m a bit early, so I didn’t want these to wilt in my car.”

“Don’t usually stop here?” I said. “At The Moon.”

“Mary loved The Moon,” Angela said. “I thought I’d pop in, she loved the fish and chips.”

“I love the fish and chips,” I said.

“My next stop is the Don Cesar,” Angela said.

“Mary had good taste,” I said. “Nice place.”

Angela sat quiet, and reflective.

“Yes, she did, we had stayed there, she loved to play in the sand,” Angela said. “We scattered her ashes out there, in the Gulf, behind the Don Cesar, so that’s always my last stop.”

“That’s beautiful,” I said.

“I’ll go soon,” Angela said. “I’ll go find a young girl, or a mother, or, someone I just feel called to touch, and I’ll give them these lilies.”

“Mary must have been a kind soul,” I said.

“She was, and I wait until the evening,” Angela said. “When it’s dark, I’ll walk out into the Gulf, I’ll whisper a prayer, and I’ll know she’s out there, with me in the waves, and the surf, touching me the best she can.”

Angela stood up, and she had opened her purse.

“I got this,” I said. I waved her to close it.

Angela smiled, she carefully removed a white lily.

“This is for you,” Angela said. “Always lite that candle to remember your friend.”

“I will,” I said. I held the delicate flower in my fingers. “And I’ll always remember you, and Mary.”

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 13 (unedited, creative process)

Alice the Artist 

It was early March and that evening I had enjoyed walking across the salmon colored Vinoy Hotel’s wide veranda, and under the original hand-painted pecky-cypress ceiling beams, and then across the quarry tiled floor covered with cushioned, intricately woven carpets. I had moved through the vast lobby past the busy concierge desk, and beneath the high ceiling Moorish influenced archways that were centered with a line of golden chandeliers. I imagined what it had been like in the 1930’s during spring training when Babe Ruth, or Lou Gehrig had moved underneath the same beams toward the restaurant bar. I had  acknowledged the well-dressed resident ghost that stood nearby guarding the stairwell that had once lead down to a speakeasy.
I had met with some in-town business contacts, and we had dined at the primary restaurant. We had been set near a white linen covered table, beneath the restored colorful frescos, near a Greek themed column as we looked out an ornate window at the resplendent Vinoy harbor. 
As I walked home later that night, I sensed spring time had fast approached, as the security lights lit up the monstrous octopus like blooming bougainvillea that was draped across the North Straub Park trellises. But then, I had found myself standing outside of, The Moon.
“Well, kind of late for you,” Edwina said. She reached forward to encourage me to have sat. “Want something Jane powerful, or, a Guinness?”“I know, but since I was out front,” I said. I sat down on a wooden stool. “Guinness, I’ve already been indulging in vino, business dinner, acting as if I understood them.”“Wise choice, I might have you talking nonsense,” Edwina said. She smiled at me. “Been a quiet night, seasons winding down.”
As I sipped the Guinness, The Moon’s calm atmosphere was disturbed by an active presence that marched up to the bar, and stood next to me. She was tall, Germanic featured with cropped cut raven hair. She wore a jacket, and a straw hat. 
“Barkeep,” she said. She tapped on the bar top using the base from what looked like her thick high school class ring. “Barkeep, you still serving?”“Sure are,” Edwina said from down the bar. She strolled up. “What can I make you, sweetie?”“Something with intent,” she said. She leaned forward, and then she sat down on the stool. “It’s been a day, and I’m off tomorrow, chop-chop, off with your head, just kidding.”“My pleasure, but simmer down,” Edwina said. She grinned over at me, as she pointed in my direction just before she disappeared. “That’s Rob, he just drinks, Guinness.”“Hey there,” I said. “Alice,” she said. She side-saddled the wooden stool to face me. “But they call me, Cheese, as my last names, Cheddar. Get it?”“I get it,” I said. I had involuntarily choked, as I had sipped in the Guinness down my windpipe. Cheese smacked me on the back. “Okay there, Rob,” Cheese said. She laughed as if she was a nickering horse. “Need your hind-licked? Just kidding, that’s what they’d ask back home.”
As I cleared my throat, I thought she’d left a hot hand mark on my back. I took in a deep breath, and I exhaled.
“I’m good,” I said. I shook my head. “Where’s home?”“Wyoming,” Cheese said. “Any idea where that is?”
I nodded, and I sipped the Guinness.
“I think so,” I said.“It’s not Montana, not Idaho,” Cheese said. She invaded my space. “But I live here, in the Burg, you look like you’re starting to get some color back.”“You’re as wild as a March hare,” I said. I chuckled. “But, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
Edwina returned with a chilled martini cocktail glass that she had set in front of Cheese. She used a two-piece shaker, and a strainer to pour the clear potion into the glass. She shaved off a lemon slice, encircled the glass rim with it, before she twisted it, and dropped it into the drink. 
“Cheers, love,” Edwina said. And like a proud Cheshire cat, she pushed it toward Cheese. “It might cause you to read backwards.”“Now, see here,” Cheese said. She smirked over at me. She held up the glass. “Back home that’d call this a fancy drink.”
I leaned back, and I had watched Cheese down the clear liquor drink like it was just refreshing water on a hot summer day.  
“Ah, tastes like I have time for another,” Cheese said. She set the glass on the bar top. “That was amazing, what’s in that?”Jane’s mischievous smile had reappeared. “Vodka, splash of lemon, sugar,” Edwina said. She picked up the empty glass, and examined it up in the dim light. “Want another? I called it my sleeping potion.”“Absolutely, I’ll not fall asleep,” Cheese said. She quickly whipped her forefinger in a counter-clockwise circle. “And keep them coming.”“Oh dear,” I said. I looked over at Edwina. “I wonder what you saw looking through that glass?”“I saw fun,” Edwina said. She quickly turned, and skipped down the bar. “Be back in a moment.”
As I sat near Cheese, she had caught me inspecting her tattoos. 
“Well, Rob,” Cheese said. “You likey me tattoos?”“They are very colorful,” I said. “And quite unusual.”
Cheese stood up, and she seemed larger than when she had walked into The Moon. She took off her jacket, to reveal a sleeveless blue blouse. She pointed with her righthand forefinger from her left hand and then up along her arm. 
“This one’s the Red Queen,” Cheese said. “She’s decapitating the Mad Hatter at exactly six pm. Get it?”
I leaned forward, and I examined the graphic inked scene. 
“Yeah,” I said. “He murdered time, I guess she finally got him?”“You got it,” Cheese said. She put her jacket back on, and sat down. “I have more, but I’m proudest of that one, I drew it, and had it inked on me.”
I had glossed my fingers across a weather spot on the bar’s dark edge. I grasped the Guinness. 
“For you, I guess it’s always six pm, somewhere,” I said. I sipped the Guinness, as 
Edwina had returned with another drink for Cheese. Edwina smirked and backed away. “And we have all the time in the world to drink tea, here inside, The Moon.”Cheese gripped the drink glass, she sized it up, and she sampled the contents. She rapidly licked her lips.
“Oh, mother of pearl,” Cheese said. She searched for Edwina. “Baby, you are good, I might have to take you home.”
After Cheese had downed her third martini, I was confident Edwina’s sleeping potion would have taken its effect. But, Cheese just seemed to have built up even more energy. She hadn’t wobbled, she had not slurred her speech, and she had no shown any indication that she might fall down on her knees.
“What’s your work?” I asked. “If you don’t mind me saying, I’d be sleeping next to the bathroom by now.”“You mean,” Cheese said. She took off here straw hat. “Other than drinking?”“Yeah,” I said. “I’m trying to keep my amateur status.”“You know something, Rob, I hate having a day job,” Cheese said. “But, got to pay the bills, or I get evicted, you know.”“Oh, I understand,” I said. “Just curious, given your tattoos, they’re quite good.”“Artist in my free time,” Cheese said. She frowned. “Work leaves me all black inside, as in soul-sucking.”
Edwina had reappeared. She smiled over at Cheese, who simply nodded to reload another chilled cocktail glass. 
“Very well, as you wish,” Edwina said. She grasped the empty glass, and walked down the bartender side. “I peddle insurance,” I said. “I’d rather just make a living writing my fiction, but, it’s nearly impossible.”“I just don’t want to be a cliché,” Cheese said. “Starving artist crap, I do have a tiny studio across from the Chihuly collection, I keep trying, but, my work gets rather dark.”
A young couple had gotten up from the far end of the bar, and had waved over at Edwina. They strolled past us, and walked holding hands outside into the moonlight.
“I wanted to write when I was a kid,” I said. I shrugged. “I think you need some luck to get noticed, and talent.”“No, body, cares,” Cheese said. “I don’t care about money, I’d create my drawings, my paintings any how.”“That’s some cool blown glass,” I said. “Over at the Chihuly.”“Yeah,” Cheese said. She smirked over at me. “Are you hitting on me?”“No, ever imagined,” I said. I grinned. “What it would be like to become known, not really famous, but known enough to make a living?”“Yeah, but I think real fame,” Cheese said. “Kind of a nightmare, but, yes it would be amazing to paint all day, just pay the bills. I’d be fine with that.”“Ah, my nightmare?” I said. I smirked. “Being trapped inside the Mahaffey Theatre down the street at a Hanson concert.”“And that would be a nightmare,” Cheese said. “I think my time is up,” I said. 
I had pulled out my debit card, and I had set it on the bar top. Edwina had swiped the card, and set my tab in front of me. 
“Come see me again,” Edwina said. “I enjoyed our chat,” Cheese said. She whipped her finger in the air, as Edwina gave her a thumbs up. “You’ll be all right?” I asked. “Yeah,” Cheese said. She crossed her arms. “I’ll call my best friend, Uber, but thanks for asking.”“Maybe some day,” I said. I signed the bill, and left a underneath a cash tip for Edwina. “We’ll wake-up from our dreams, and our dreams will have come true.”Cheese contemplated my comment. She pursed her lips. “Thanks for that Dorthy,” Cheese said. She smacked me on the arm after I got up. “Next time I’ll wear my fancy red slippers.”
End.

NS

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 12

The Dali Docent

“I’m beat,” he said. He was unaware, as he had slumped down next to me at The Moon’s bar that he was wearing his Dali Museum docent badge. “I’m getting to old for those people.”

“Oh, Braith, hang in there,” Jason said. She shook his hand. “Your usual, vodka soda, but want me to make you a stiff one?”

“Please,” Braith said. He grinned, as he playfully gasped with his tongue-out. “Pretty please, please.”

“Just got off work?” I said. I glanced down at his Dali badge.

“Yeah, but Rob just drinks Guinness,” Jane said. She smiled over at me. “I think he’s afraid I might take him to another planet.”

“You do have that penchant,” Braith said. He had a deep voice as chuckled with a horse cough. “She at least warns you.”

“I’m learning my way,” I said. I smirked at Braith.

“By the way, thanks,” Braith said. He unclipped the badge and stuffed it into his nap sack. “I’m Braith, not that my badge hadn’t already told you that, right?”

“What’re you doing at the Dali?” I said. “I like that place. You have an usual name.”

“Docent, My names Welsh,” Braith said. He slouched forward. “And just think, I volunteer for it. It was a busy day and all, end of February, gets nippy outside, we got a traffic uptick. I guess everybody needed a calm spot from the wind.”

“On your feet all day,” I said. I sipped my Guinness. “It was a bit breezy today, almost got a wind-burn.”

“Oh, yeah, be careful, sneaks up on ya,” Braith said. He had thinning gray hair, and a slight belly pooch. “But I still love it, it gets me out and with people. I think that’s important at my age, just get out there.”

“I think I’ve seen you here in The Moon,” I said. “Before, couple days ago, or so?”

“I’m a regular,” Braith said. He sat up straight on the wooden stool. “I tend to stay to myself, I’m not real opinionated, you know, I just need a quiet place, in a nice bar.”

“Be near humans,” I said. “Without getting hassled.”

“Yeah,” Braith said. “That’s about right.”

I thought his brown eyes told me he was lonely. I hoped I would live to Braith’s age, and I was quite aware that I had lived alone. But I thought Braith had been wise to have mingled with the world in the best way he could have managed, and not have lived in solitary confinement. After a few moments a spiky, gray haired, middle-aged man sat on the other-side to Braith. They seemed to have had known each other, Brad was kind enough to have introduced me to him.

“Erin, this is Rob,” Braith said. “Rob, I give you, Erin.”

“What’s it going to be?” Jane asked Eric. “Cab?”

“Yes,” Erin said. He unbuttoned his sport coat. He acknowledged me. He looked up at Jane. He talked in a hushed tone like an mc at a jazz club. “And I don’t mind if you get me drunk, I am your vessel.”

“I’ve got skills,” Jane said. She smiled. She patted her hand on the bar top, and backed toward the wine refrigerator.

“I walk in the Dali, occasionally,” I said. I glanced over at Braith. “It give me inspiration.”

“What are your favorites?” Erin said. He sipped the dark red wine, and set the glass back down on a white paper coaster. As he looked over at me, Jane partially refilled his glass.

“Do I get a guess?” Braith said. He smirked over at me.

“Fire away,” I said.

Braith studied my face. He looked back over at Erin for any thoughts as to my preferred Salvador Dali paintings.

“The Lincoln one,” Braith said. He snapped his fingers together. “Or, Homage to Rothko.”

“My guess, you look like a deep thinker,” Erin said. He pointed at me. He laughed. “The Hallucinogenic Toreador.”

I sipped my Guinness, I nodded back at them, as I had watched Jane creating a fancy cocktail, she had shaken it within a two-piece Boston shaker, and then poured the concoction into a chilled glass. I thought Jane had a pleased mad-chemist expression, as she served the drink to an unsuspecting tourist.

“Both, are obviously master works,” I said. “But when I walk inside, I always first go to, Homage for Watson and Crick, then the, The Slave Market.”

“Yes,” Braith said. He nodded. “The bust of Voltaire, and Dali’s interest in him from reading, the farce, Candide.”

“Candide?” Erin said. He sipped his wine. “Of course, farce would fit with Dali.”

“But now, it’s Birth of the New Man,” I said. I shrugged as I picked up the Guinness. “Actually, I tend to just roam, and appreciate Dali’s talent.”

“Birth of the New Man?” Braith said. He gazed up at the line of glass beer mugs. “I didn’t expect that one, why?”

“I had been to the old museum,” I said. I thought about a week earlier as I had observed the painting that depicted a long arm, and upper torso having cracked through an egg. “Perhaps I had missed it before, the new museum’s huge.”

“It was a magnificent addition to St. Pete,” Braith said. He grinned after he took a sip from his cocktail. “There’s a good reason they call the geodesic glass bubble, the enigma.”

“But I found that painting,” I said. “Now it sort of speaks to my current situation.”

Braith sat back, he placed his right forefinger across his lips.

“Starting over?” Eric asked. He adjusted his black framed glasses. “I take it.”

“Yep, “ I said. “Pretty much…”

Braith’s hand slightly tremored as he picked up his cocktail. He sipped it, he huffed and wobbled his shoulders.

“Jane, oh-my,” Braith said. He gasped, he licked his lips. He sat quietly for a few moments. “That painting was about Dali’s vision for post World War Two, it’s a positive painting. He believed a new age was coming with the United States, South America, and Africa.”

“That’s art, sorry, I’m a art school graduate” Erin said. He sipped his wine. “So, forgive me, it’s in my blood.”

“Understood,” I said.

Erin twisted up his wine glass from side-to-side, and he watched the Cabernet varietal’s legs stream along the inside down into a pool at the bottom.

“If you lack an emotional response,” Erin said. “It has failed.”

“But Dali was odd,” Braith said. “Weird dude.”

“He was massively talented,” I said. “But, weird.”

“I try to stay in reality,” Eric said. He coughed to clear his throat. “But some artists just view the planet, they see things that I don’t think normal people see, or feel, and then they convey it, in their chosen medium, I do respect their gift.”

“But, I do enjoy our new patrons taking tours,” Braith said. He chuckled. “It’s a lot of fun, they stand there staring at the paintings, completely confused, but then, I start to show them, and explain the painting.”

“I get it,” I said. I laughed. “I’ve seen it, they suddenly say ‘what in the world is that…’”

“Exactly,” Braith said. He chuckled. “It’s like, as they say, a light just went off, that’s quality entertainment for me.”

We sat together enjoying our adult beverages. The Moon was quiet and still, as Jane cleaned up the bar area.

“You know,” Erin said. “I’ve lived here my entire life, in a way, St. Pete’s like a Dali painting.”

“I get you,” Braith said.

“It takes time to see her, to appreciate her,” Erin said. He stared back over at us. “But the beauty is all around us.”

“I love the new Dali,” Braith said. “It’s a striking architectural achievement, but, I hope they don’t bulldoze the whole city.”

After I left The Moon that evening, I had zipped my jacket up tight, and had stuffed my hands into the pockets. I strolled along the concrete sidewalk past the seasonal tourists dining under tents, as they had been warmed by nearby tall free-standing propane gas heaters.

But I stopped to observe a mural along the west wall for The Moon. It was a bright, colorful impression of a smiling blonde haired girl wearing sunglasses, with the statement, Welcome to St. Pete. It was hidden within the brick alleyway just a few steps off busy Beach Drive, as I watched the cars and people cycle past.

And it had occurred to me from all my previous walks, and my bike rides up and down Central Avenue, or across the Pinellas Trail, or into Old Northeast, or from The Moon to my apartment, the Burg was littered with these unassuming murals. They were tucked in on side-streets, in the alleyways, or atop the back-side for modest buildings. As if the unknown artists medium were the old buildings, the trash bins, or any welcoming canvass, and it occurred to me as I stood there that over the decades, the entire area had been transformed into an independent art gallery collection with works that were sometimes thought provoking, or simply beautiful, or, just timeless.

End.

NS

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 11 (My unedited chapters, as I create the novel)

Paper Clips

“I was cold this morning,” he said. He had meticulously taken off his dark gray suit jacket, and he had draped it carefully over the chairs curved backrest. He was average height, and he appeared quite fit as he sat down on the cushioned seat near The Moon’s bar within the Snug section. “As I walked, I walked to work, today.”
“I drove,” the larger man said. “I was quite comfortable.”
He had slouched down on a similar chair next to the other man; but he had kept his jacket on. I thought he could have portrayed a Santa Claus like character during Christmas season, but he lacked any beard, and he wore a rumpled version of the finely tailored clothes for professional persons.
“It was cold,” he said. “But, I like walking to work.”
“Was the snow up over your ankles? Donald,” He said. He grunted and he twisted his head over toward the other man as he smirked. “Really, it was in the high fifties, we live in Florida.”
“So what, Galen,” he said. He waved over at Edwina who was near the far end of the bar. “I was cold, just saying, I was cold.”
I looked over at them, I had sat next to a square column where The Moon’s bar turned a hard westerly direction.
“I got cold, too, this morning,” I said. I drank my Guinness. “I admit it, maybe my blood has thinned?”
The larger man looked back over at me as he untucked his red tie that had been in a single Windsor knot, and had unbuttoned his dress shirt at the collar.
“Really? We don’t live in Antarctica,” He said. He pointed his right hand forefinger like a fake hand gun over at Donald. “You in with The Donald, over here?”
I thought he had intensely inquisitive hazel colored eyes that would have welcomed a mental joust, or a good dirty joke.
“If it’s a thousand degrees outside, almost everyday, for The Donald, and me,” I said. I grinned back over at him. “And then one day, it’s only eight-hundred degrees, me and The Donald are going to notice the twenty-percent temperature shift, but, if you, Galen, I take that is your name, had been living in Antarctica, and happened to land in sunny St. Pete, at the same time, you would have thought it was quite warm, right?”
He grinned as he pondered my statement.
“What you gents having, tonight?” Edwina asked.
Galen glanced over at me, and then he looked up at Edwina. Donald had quickly ordered a Bass, and had started to slowly study the laminated menu as if he had pondered each and every word, and then, he had considered what the words meant.
“I should order water, given my condition,” Galen said. He tapped at his chest. He huffed. “But, I’ll have what he’s having, a Guinness, and a water, please.”
Edwina looked over at me.
“Rob?” Edwina said. She grinned at me, as she wiped the bar top with a damp white cloth. “He’s not very creative, always has Guinness.”
“I guess I’m a creature of habit,” I said.
“So, Rob, I take that’s your name, you assume from my perception, I’d notice the temperature, before I was incinerated,” Galen said. He fumbled the edge of the menu with his thumb and forefinger. “Assuming I’d not already have frozen to death back home in Antarctica?”
Donald looked up from reading the menu.
“We know this already,” Donald said. He grimaced. “Let’s move along from this idle chit-chat. Talk about a good book, a good book is way more interesting.”
Galen set the menu down. He playfully nudged at Donald.
“Now, Dangerous Donald, I know you’re a serious monogamous reader,” Galen said. “We’re just having some mental fun with our fantasy lands.”
“I thought he was, The, Donald,” I said.
“THE, is now president, some, how,” Galen said. He shook his head, his baritone voice lowered an octave. “New nickname, it’s a sign of the times, Dangerous Donald. I think it fits him better.”
“He does look sinister,” I said. “Kinda like how sinister I look, which is not at all.”
“You’re strange men,” Donald said. He staccato laughed. “What are you having?”
Galen looked back over at me.
“See that,” Galen said. He looked over at me as he side nodded toward Donald. “That’s his poker tell, he wants me to change the subject. We must be boring him.”
After a few moments, I noticed Donald kept squeezing his fingers against a common metal paper clip. Galen noticed I had noted the instinctive movement; he acted as if it were nothing unusual.
“Are you visiting our town,” Galen asked me. He had stared directly into my eyes so as to acquire my complete attention.
“No,” I said. I looked back at him. “I just moved back here from Houston, but actually, I used to live over in South Tampa.”
Donald laughed, he wobbled on the chair.
“Not, THE, South Tampa?” Donald said. He grimaced several times, but stopped it by fake smiling. “Over here slumming it in old St. Pete, with us.”
“I know,” I said. “South Tampa has a much stuffier vibe.”
“I used to live over there, used to watch the planes take off from McDill for the wars,” Galen said. He sighed. “It was like watching an apartment building with wings take-off, amazing.”
“C-5’s, C-17’s,” I said. “We used to watch them, had a friend in the air force, they have some freaky equipment.”
“Left the ex-wife over there, too,” Galen said. “Now, Dangerous convinced me to setup our legal practice over here.” He looked up at the silent television. “You know something, now, I don’t think I’ll ever leave. I like this side of the Bay.”
I squeezed the cold Guinness glass between my hands.
“Completely different vibe over here,” I said. I sucked in a deep breath. “It’s like when I’m out on my bike, exercising, I come to an intersection, you know, cross-walk, cars, trucks, or the police, they just stop, wave me across before I even hit the red button for the signal lights.”
“Yes, they, have been encouraging people to ride bikes,” Donald said. He stretched his neck as if he were trying to loosen up before a boxing match. “It’s a big push, good push.”
“I noticed,” I said. “They’d flip me off over in Tampa, or give me the, I can’t be bothered, look.”
“Ever hop on the Pinellas Trail?” Donald said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I just discovered it, people even stop in the sketchy areas, my pasty-whiteness does not seem to matter.”
“Because we look like the MAN,” Donald said. He laughed.
Galen tapped his hand on the bar.
“The Burg’s a town, ninety-five percent here will acknowledge you, even the homeless,” Galen said. He studied the menu. He stared over at me from above the menu. “But be careful, the tourists get lost on their smartphones, looking at maps, we’ve had a few clients that got bulldozed, the bikers had assumed the driver was aware of the local rules.”
“Good point,” I said. But I had noticed that Donald had continued to press his fingers hard against the paper clip. Edwina had then served them their drink orders.
“Donald’s the fitness freak,” Galen said. He rubbed his belly. He sipped the Guinness. “I can’t run to the mailbox.”
I watched Edwina enter drink orders and food orders into the point-of-service register, and then she had swiped a credit card through a magnetic reader. I glanced back over, and I had remembered that Galen had tapped on his chest.
“Heart condition?” I asked Galen.
“Correct,” Galen said. He further loosened his shirt collar. “Very observant, actually, it’s a genetic defect. I used to be a runner like Donald. But, as I got older the abnormality reared-up, it’ll eventually get me.”
I nodded over at Galen, as if I had understood. In truth, I had only a vague notion. It was not my body; I thought I could only truly understand someone if I could have magically seen the world through their eyes, and felt what they had felt. I thought we all lived with our own time-bombs.
“Everybody has something,” I said. “I suspect I’ll get hit something similar, heart disease runs in my family history.”
Donald sat back, he closely studied my face.
“Genetics, you’re born with defects, or they get mutated,” Donald said. He fumbled with the paper clip. “I get uptight, you know, but I read a lot, learned exercising helps. It’s not fair to Galen, he can’t workout, it’s not his fault.”
Galen shrugged the comments off as if he had accepted his fate.
“Rob, do you know how many sex chromosome pairs?” Galen asked. He chuckled, and he winked at me.
“By your look,” I said. “I think you know the answer.”
“That’s called,” Donald said. He smiled. “Being a good lawyer.”
“Okay, I had a case, so, xx,” Galen said. “Get’s you a female, right?”
“That’s what I’ve been told,” I said. I sipped my Guinness.
“Then, xy, gets you a male,” Galen said. He pointed over at me. “But then, abnormalities happen, xo, xxy, xxx, xyy, and, wait for it, xyy.”
“I thought you were a lawyer?” Edwina asked. She had appeared near us. “Want to order?”
“Not just yet,” Donald said. “But, I’ll have another Bass.”
“I am,” Galen said. “And I’m a really good one.”
“Case?” I asked. “What sort of case?”
“Hospital,” Galen said. “We sued a big facility, we discovered they weren’t actually testing all the samples from the amniocentesis; so a bunch of children had developed some nasty syndromes that if caught early, could have been better dealt with, but, that’s why we have a law firm.”
“I used to work for a medical malpractice carrier,” I said.
They both amusingly stared back over at me.
“On behalf of Donald and I, we thank you,” Galen said. He smiled, and he held up his Guinness. “I appreciate them helping to buy my house, cars, trips and fund my existence, oh, cover alimony, it’s the American way.”
“You’re welcome, but I broker it these days,” I said. I clinked his glass with mine. “Paid for my existence but on the defense side, sometimes paid-well, sometimes, not so well.”
They both acknowledged me.
“We make a good team,” Galen said. He patted Donald on the back. “Donald hates conflict, I live for it. So, I do the loud mouth litigating, he does the case building, interviews clients, has the legal mind for it. We could both make a lot more money, but, we like our independence. And believe it or not, we really do like helping people.”
“We do, but I don’t like the arguments,” Donald said. He shook his head. “It gets me wound up, I don’t like it.”
“I understand,” I said. “I don’t like being mean to anyone, but, I do have that nasty arrow, if needed.”
Donald had gotten up, and he had tapped Galen on the shoulder.
“Be right back,” Donald said. He strolled over toward the restrooms.
Galen maneuvered forward, and he leaned over closer to me.
“So, you’re curious about Donald’s paper clip?” Galen whispered.
“Well, yeah,” I said. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Galen said. He waved at me with his left hand.
“It helps him calm down, we just left a contentious mediation, he was not happy. I, of course, was having fun.”
“Like a stress ball?” I said.
“Yeah,” Galen said. “But not as obvious, it’s a low key way to help him chill out, I do the same thing at hearings. I give a paper clip to my clients when they are being deposed, and in court, what-not, I figured it’s a good way to keep my adversary unaware we’re nervous.”
“Law of the jungle,” I said. “Stay chill.”
“Exactly, don’t leave any blood in the water, so to speak,” Galen said. He leaned back onto the chair. “Everybody has something that messes with them, I have a heart issue, Donald gets wound up… that’s life.“
“I get it,” I said. I shrugged. “I can be extremely introverted, I can drive for hours without a sound, used to drive my ex-wife crazy.”
“Oh, you have one, too,” Galen said. He nudged toward Donald’s empty chair. “He’s too nice, he’s had several.”
“I guess there are not any white picket fenced houses, anymore,” I said. “No Ozzie and Harriet.”
Galen stared across the bar at an older couple.
“That was all fiction, you know something, I think reality just piles on the stress, it’s the human condition,” Galen said. He thumbed the menu. “I just use paper clips to keep it hidden, deal with it, and hopefully at bay.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.
“If you need a paper clip,” Galen said. “I have boxes to share?”

The Moon Under Water – Chapter 10 (my unedited first drafts)

Two Banyan Trees

“Are you seeing,” I said over at Alan. “What I’m seeing?”

I was staring out the tall front windows from within The Moon.

“The things you see out the Snug, lad,” Alan said. He laughed. He shook his head. “Early friday nights in February, during high-season, cheers to the lad.”

“Cheers,” I said. “I guess business is good?”

“Best time of year,” Alan said. He pursed his lips. “But we’ve been here so long, we’re rather steady as she goes.”

I pointed outside at the young man.

“I did something sort of like this,” I said. “Once, in a bar.”

We chuckled over at the event that we thought was about to have taken place just before dusk. A young man was wearing all-white, he pensively stood across from The Moon. He was between the two massive interlocked Banyan trees and beneath the dark green canopy, and the descending aerial root system. He was at the center of a garnishment of red-rose peddles that had been scattered by two young women toward each of the four-winds. A photographer was actively capturing the moment. And friends in on the surprise, and gathering interlopers, had their smartphone cameras focused on the expanding scene.

“Rob, have you met my wife, Susie?” Alan said. He held out his left hand. He proudly grinned. “I found her in Wales.”

“Hello, darling,” Susie said. She had just walked into the Snug section, she had air-kissed my cheek. She was petite with thick winter-white hair styled just above her delicate neck-line. She had kind blue eyes, eyes that you hoped to had never disappointed. “I see, we have quite the stir.”

Behind Susie, Kate and Jane had worked the busy bar area.

“Yeah,” I said. I sipped my Guinness. “He’s gotten a good crowd out there, but he looks really nervous, even from over here.”

“I don’t blame him,” Susie said. Her voice had a soft cadence as if she’d once been a skilled British psycho therapist.

“He’s all in,” I said. “I’ll give him that.”

“I wonder if there are pigs behind the trees?” Alan said. He giddily laughed over at Susie.

“Oh dear, me,” Susie said. “I hope she can run.”

After a few moments, within the far southwest corner of the observing crowd, a line of refined young women, all dressed for a seasonal party had emerged from the back metal doors for the marbled Museum of Fine Arts. They parted the dense crowd as they walked with rehearsed purpose, each attempted to maintain the rues, and they had concealed within them another young woman who had jet black hair. She appeared confused as she studied the multi-colored faces as she passed by them along the concrete sidewalk while she clutched a single long-stem red rose.

“Ah, somethings moving a bit,” Susie said.

“Show time,” Alan said. “Here we go…”

“I sure hope she says, yes,” I said. I glanced over at Susie.

“Oh, dear,” Susie said. “Do you really think she’d say no?”

And then the young ladies walked shoulder-to-shoulder as they lead her toward the Banyan trees. Each lady periodically had stopped along the route, as if on cue. They had kissed her as if they would never meet her again, and then they had dropped more rose peddles before her so as to have encouraged her to keep strolling down the path and behind the others.

“It’s gotten rather quiet out there,” I said. I smirked with my nose close to the window glass. “And I don’t know why I just whispered, they can’t here me.”

“I know, it’s like watching a movie,” Susie said. She adjusted her eyeglasses. “It’s, amazing, this is so exciting.”

It was an odd sensation to voyeur down into a sacred moment from our perch over at The Moon; the cars had been stopped from maneuvering along Beach Drive by the quiet, but growing crowd that had started to block the street. As if they all involuntarily had followed a charismatic cult leader, the curious people had ignored the cars as if they were all searching for something unseen as they shifted in different directions to gain a better view. Then the people in the stopped cars had started to get out to investigate the disturbance, as if they all had instinctively decided to have followed the others toward an unforeseen cliff.

“Ah, there’s the box,” I said. I pointed down at him.

“He’s all in, now,” Alan said. He glanced over at Susie.

“I like those sort of boxes,” Susie said. She smiled.

After the young lady’s last maiden had gently exited her, the young man was revealed. He stood alone before her, and they were encircled by the nine-person or so deep crowd. He knelt down, and he held the square box up toward her. It was a simple ceremony I thought. He spoke to her, as his hands shook, she nodded, and she appeared to have said, yes. She accepted the box, and its contents. As they hugged, the impromptu audience clapped in approval as if it had just observed a well-played tennis match. And then they all started to disperse, as the young couple were left behind being hugged by their friendly witnesses. And then I noticed within the darkness the car lights started to recycle along Beach Drive, and the pale yellow glow from the bars and restaurants had returned to the high-season Friday evening rituals.

“They’re first step for a lifetime journey,” Susie said. She turned away from the windows. She kissed Alan on the cheek. “Love you, my sweet.”

“How long have you all been together?” I said.

“Almost,” Alan said. He smiled, he looked up at the coffered ceiling, and then nodded his head toward Susie. “Fifty years, I cannot imagine that, no sir, how crazy.”

“I out ran the pigs” Susie said. She sipped her baby Guinness. “It’s true.”

“It’s a Welsh thing,” Alan said. He grinned. “I picked her because she could out run the pigs.”

“Actually,” Susie said. “I sort of out flapped my way from them, like a terrified duck.”

“Ah yes, they’d have eaten her,” Alan said. “I helped her over the fence, and we’ve been together ever since.”

After twenty-minutes, maybe more, maybe less, I was ready to have paid my Guinness bill, I had grabbed my to-go order, and I was headed toward the back brick alleyway. But near The Moon’s front doors a large, noisy, group had entered, and they had moved in mass over to the bar. I smiled as I quickly noticed it was the young couple that had just shared a moment from their lives from under the Banyan trees.

“Well,” Kate said. Her hands on the bar as she smiled at them. “What can I get for the happy couple? And congratulations, I see are in order?”

The husky young man with thin brown hair was sweating through his linen shirt. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He had a constant, yet, relieved smirk. She had smeared her lipstick, she appeared to have just stopped crying as she was being hugged by two ladies from her conspiracy group.

“We meet here,” he said. He smacked hard on the bar top. “Meet right here, for very first time.”

“No kiddin’” Kate said. She curiously looked up at him.

“Yes, we did, oh, my, god,” she said. She gazed down at her large engagement ring. “I can’t believe, this just happened.”

Alan moved into the group as Susie stayed behind to observe.

“Now, lad,” Alan said. He waved over at Kate who backed away from the bartender side. “Did I hear correct, you two met here, at The Moon?”

“Yes,” he said. He pointed at his brown shoes. “At this spot…”

“Well, then,” Alan said. He strongly shook the young man’s hand. He held up his hand to acknowledge Susie. “I’m Alan, I’m the part-owner, with my wife, Susie. She’s the all powerful president.”

“I am Yuri,” he said. He stood up tall. “This is, this is Daphne, my now, finance.”

Alan happily greeted them, as Susie moved forward into the group. They talked for a few moments, and they were introduced to Yuri and Daphne’s friends. But then, Alan moved over closer to the bar, he smiled back over at those who had watched from the Snug section.

“Kate,” Alan said. He clapped his hands, and he started to count the group as Kate and Jane had retrieved two whiskey bottles. “We need to celebrate this occasion.”

“Redbreast?” Kate said. She smiled over at Yuri and Daphne.

“Yes, indeed,” Alan said. “But we need a count.”

“Llongyfarchiadau ar eich Dyweddiad, that’s Welsh, for, congratulations on your engagement,” Susie said. She smiled. “You’ll excuse me, I don’t partake, but, I’ll cheer you with my baby Guinness.”

“Spasibo,” Yuri said. He appeared confused, but he bowed at Susie. He loudly laughed. “Russian for, thank you.”

“Oh, my, god, thank you,” Daphne said. As she kept admiring her new engagement ring. “I can’t wait to tell my friends back in Boca.”

“Oh, Boca?” Susie said. She daintily sipped her Guinness.

“Well, New York, and all,” Daphne said. She tapped her long manicured fingers over toward Susie as she kept smiling. “The family is down in Boca, you know, this time of year, you know.”

“So, how did you meet here?” Susie said.

“Old school,” Yuri said. He fake walked in place like a large stereotypical Texas cowboy. “I walk up to bar, I said, howdy. It was Daphne, we been together now for six-months, love her.”

“Ha, love you,” Daphne said. She stepped up on her toes and kissed Yuri. “And in six-months, it’ll be the three of us.”

“Yes,” Yuri said. “My child be US citizen.”

“Ah,” Susie said. “That’s wonderful, and crafty all at the same time. Congratulations, again.”

Kate and Jane set out a long line of shot glasses. They poured the auburn colored whiskey into them, and then Alan handed them out to the bar guests.

“You, too,” Alan said. “Over here, Rob.”

I held up my full shot glass with Alan, and the bar crowd.

“To Yuri and Daphne,” Alan said. “In good health, and happiness.”

“I’ll take a pass,” Daphne said. “But, big fella will stand in for me.”

“Ha,” Yuri said. He swigged back two whiskey shots, as I swigged back the whiskey shot. It burned a bit, and then I tasted the master-crafted finish that had reminded me of Kentucky.

Alan and I stepped away from the bar, and on over next to Susie as Yuri started to order Russian vodka shots from Kate and an amused Jane.

“Engagement party” I said. “Is full on now.”

“Rob, all sorts of people come to The Moon, they’ll always remember us,” Alan said. He nodded at the guests coming and going. “They all are looking to just relax, to find some anchor, you know.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think you’re right.”

“You know, darling,” Susie said. She smiled at me. “Roots, what you’re doin’ now, just trying to find some roots to hold onto.”

“I hadn’t really thought it through,” I said. I had watched Yuri tightly hug Daphne. “But, I’m happy to back in St. Pete.”

“Just sink into things,” Susie said. “They’ll grow in due time.”

“Listen to Susie, and don’t live in the past,” Alan said. “It’ll eat at your happiness.”

Susie nodded back over at Alan.

“All the people you meet along the way, they’re just normal people,” Susie said. She looked into the crowd. “They’re all just searching in their own way.”

“Keep searching,” Alan said. “It’ll come to you, lad.”