Storied By Josh

The old wooden chairs mingled with new metal ones. The bar stools were still here, still antiques. They would probably keep them, he thought, until they were little more than round cushions. As he looked on a figure came in, the wind blowing past him and threatening to blow out the candles at the tables. The man shook off the water that permeated his jacket while the door swung close behind him.

“Still coming down?” Bill asked.

“She won’t let up until May now.” The figure nodded at the bartender who turned to make his drink. His thinning gray hair shone with rain water.

“Care for a smoke?”

“No. They’ll kill you.”

“Never gave a damn.”

“You will.”

“How have you been Tommy?” Bill asked his hand out.

“I’ve been better.” Tommy coughed as if to accentuate his words. Tommy shook hands then pulled out lip balm and rubbed it on his dry lips. “How’s your wife and kids?”

“They’re eatin, that’s what they care about.”

“Aye. Mine too.”

“Brother John’s sheep got out last week. He’s been rounding them up the last few days. I lent him a hand day-before.”

Tommy got his drink from the bar and sat across from Bill at his table. “I heard the going ons. Made you run, did they?”

“Aye. All over the damn fields, nearly broke my ankle chasing after them.”

“Slow going tonight?” Tommy asked toward the bar.

“What would make tonight any different?” The bartender replied as she walked into the back.

“Rumbling going on around town, say change is coming.” Tommy leaned in as if speaking a secret.

“Change is always coming and it never comes soon enough.” Billy blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, knowing it would be rude to blow it in Tommy’s face.

“They’re sayin the Republican Army is surrendering.”

“I’m keeping my nose out of it.”

“You ought to take more of an interest.”

“Too many good men have died on their behalf.”

“You’d be meaning ours.”

“I mean what I say.”

“Easy for someone who’s never charged anything.”

“I took charge of myself, when it was over, that’s noble.”

“The noblest.”

 

They stopped and looked across the table at each other. A moment passed.

“What will we do with the war over?”

“I’ve been out of it for a long time.”

“Two men like us never stay out for very long.”

“Aye that’s what they say.”

“They say because they know.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed. “You still are thinking me a traitor, aren’t you, lad?”

Tommy was taken back. “Of course not Bill.”

“You’d be one of the few.”

“Belfast if full of idiots.”

“Starvin idiots.”

“Britain has promised aide.”

Bill spit on the floor. “I might have quit fighting long ago but I didn’t leave my brain out there.”

Tommy smiled, showing a missing canine. “Good to hear, you old bastard.”

“What made you stop in tonight anyway?” Bill asked.

“Just wanted to see an old friend, not a Thursday goes by you’re not in here smoking those fags and havin a drink.”

“Aye. I suppose I’m in a rut in my old age.”

“It’s alright, nothin to fear in a few months anyway.”

“Do you remember, Tommy, when Flannigan was twenty-three.” Bill changed the subject.

“Aye.”

“One month, it was dry if I remember, he was out getting good and pissed. Right in this very pub.”

“I know what you’re talking of.”

“You came in half pissed yourself, you beat the livin shite out of him.”

“He was havin it off with my sister.”

Bill laughed. “She could have said no.”

“Rumor was she did.”

“You know he’s dead now.”

“Flannigan? You don’t say.”

“Aye, sniper got him while he was followin some noble Brit last month. Never figured out how they knew who he was.”

“Shame, isn’t it.”

“Always a shame. Too much blood.” Bill looked down at his drink. It had cigarette ash in it. He drank it anyway.

“Too many rats these days.”

“Fuckin rats.”

“Aye.”

Tommy finished his drink. “Where the hell is that wonderful lass for my drink?”

“Probably pissing.”

Tommy chuckled. Bill always liked the way Tommy laughed. Throaty and honest. It was the kind of laugh that made other people to laugh. Bill suddenly felt forlorn. He missed the old days when things were more simple. When he didn’t hurt the way he hurt now on cold mornings. When it was all so clear. On nights like this he felt so much older, so much older.

 

“Well Bill my old friend maybe we should start doing this every week.” Tom said quickly.

“Aye, but I’ve been doing it every week.” Bill knew Tommy had seen something he didn’t like.

“Then maybe it’s time I joined you. We could play chess.”

Bill smiled. “Maybe so.”

“I’ve got to go though, Mary wants some goat cheese from the shop before it closes.”

“You’ll be cutting it close.”

“Aye, thanks for the drink.”

“Oh I’m payin now?”

“I’ve got to get some cheese.”

Bill laughed. “Aye, alright.”

 

Tommy put his jacket on as he looked for the bartender, she wasn’t there. He got the door and put his hand on the knob before turning back. “See you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” Bill replied. Tommy left. The bartender came back into the room. Bill looked at her. She looked back.

“Okay, Rose.” She left. She always had such beautiful red hair, though now it was streaked with gray, Bill still thought she was beautiful.

 

The rain assaulted Tommy as he hurried to his car. Bill didn’t know, Tommy thought with a sigh of relief. And it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. He’s out of the game, been out of the game, he said so himself. But he didn’t know. It was good. The war was over and it didn’t matter. He slowed his breathing when he finally got to his car. He quickly got in and shut the door.

 

 

Someone knocked on his window. Tommy jumped, startled.

“Get out.”

 

Tommy knew then, though he couldn’t admit it. Traitors are always found out. He knew it was over and that Megan would know when he didn’t arrive in the morning. A tear ran down his cheek as he opened his car door. It was Brother John standing there with his son beside him.

“Hey John.” Tommy said.

“Rainy night.” Brother John said, as if it was all the same.

“Aye, it is. It’ll be like this till May now.”

“Aye.”

 

 

A crack sounded from John’s pocket. Tommy felt the air rush out of him. He started shaking. He tried to open his car door to get in but his hands weren’t working right. He slipped on the mud and fell to his knees. He felt warmth running down his stomach. His whole body hurt.

“I’m sorry Tommy.” John said. “But Flannigan was a good soul.”

“I…I…” Tommy started but he couldn’t think and his mouth tasted funny. He slumped onto his side. He felt the rain hit his skin.

“We’ll take care of Megan for you.”

Tommy blinked away the rain and coughed. This damn cough. He was going to die while he had the flu. John looked down at him and Tommy looked up at him, soon he felt cold and the shaking stopped. “Tell Bill…” He managed; he let his head fall to the ground. He was just so tired of holding it up. He saw the church’s tower through the rain. Then he was nothing.

 

 

John’s son bent down to pick him up, but John held out an arm. “Wait for the shite and the jerk.” They waited for a moment. Tommy’s bowels let loose and his hand twitched. John let his arm fall. “Put him in the car now. I’ll get the gasoline.” John’s son struggled to put Tommy in the front seat, careful to stay away from the shite running down the inside of the pants. “No, put him in the back, over the spare.”

John’s son did as he was told.

 

 

Rose came back into the bar. Bill looked at her. She nodded. He frowned. Then he cried. He missed the old days when things were easier. When he knew things like he didn’t now. Mostly he missed Tommy. Rose came to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He reached up and held it. He abruptly quit crying.

“Come on lass, get me a drink would you?” He asked hoarsely as he looked up at her.

“Aye, Billy.”

 

Bill sat back in his chair and pulled out his smokes. He lit one.