Chapter 14 - Dances With Drunks
November 17th. It’s my birthday. Cool, right? That said I’m not really sure what it means. I mean, I had a huge biology test Wednesday that took all of my mental energies so I didn’t even remember it until yesterday. I don’t know if I should mention it to my roommates since Brooklyn is the only one who knows how old I actually am although whether or not she even remembers is another story. On the other hand, though, I have to work tonight which means I can’t go home until tomorrow so it’d be nice if someone would congratulate me on the actual day. After all, eighteen is a big milestone. I’ll finally get to, well, vote. And sign my own medical forms. Is that all I get when I turn eighteen? Seriously? Ok, so maybe it’s not such a big deal.

Still though, there’s just something depressing about it being your birthday and nobody knowing it.

“Happy Birthday!” I typed the words, watching the green letters appear on the screen as if Hazel Beatrice Adams from Mt. Pleasant, Vermont, birth date April 2, 1900, death date March 23, 1918, was sending me a message from beyond the grave.

“Why thank you Hazel,” I said not even caring that I’m talking aloud to a person who’s been dead almost a hundred years. Trust me, an hour in this room that time forgot, and you’ll be talking to the dead too. As I typed in the cause of death – influenza, according to the note written in a hurried hand and signed with an illegible scrawl – I did the mental math. Hazel was…just a few days shy of her eighteenth birthday. Shivering at the uncanny coincidence, I paused for a second to actually read the tiny scrap of paper that evidenced an entire life, instead of just quickly typing it in like I usually did. I wonder if Hazel has hazel eyes? Obviously she left behind a family. What would my parents do if I died? A small lump formed in my throat and I quickly swallowed it. If I died today it would be without ever having been kissed – do you think Hazel had been kissed?

Gently I pressed the key to save Hazel’s information, watching her name blink off the screen as the fields cleared for the next person. The next record caught me off guard. Merribeth Slough Adams from Mt. Pleasant, Vermont, birth date January 14, 1881, death date March 24, 1918. Just to make sure, I flipped back to Hazel’s record and Merribeth was indeed listed as the deceased’s mother. Biting my lip as I typed in Merribeth’s record, including influenza as the cause of death, I felt the lump come back into my throat. It wasn’t so easy to push away this time. I quickly saved it and moved on to the next: Gabriel and Georgette Adams, birth date November 29, 1917, death date March 24, 1918. A tear slid down my cheek as I picked out the word influenza under cause of death. The deceased’s mother? Merribeth Slough Adams. Four month old twins, dead the same day as their mother, one day after their older sister.

Now that I think of it, I remember reading about the influenza epidemic of 1918 in my AP history class. Millions around the world died, making it one of the deadliest epidemics of all time. I think I even wrote an essay on it for an exam. But it’s different now somehow, sitting here in this dark, quiet room and seeing actual names, families. The next four records continue the tragedy as three Adams boys and a girl succumb to the flu over the next couple of days. I felt exhausted as I typed in the last record and saved it. Then it occurred to me – where was Mr. Geoffrey Adams? He was listed on all the children’s death certificates as their father and yet I didn’t have a death certificate for him. I scanned quickly through the next couple of months from Mt. Pleasant Vermont – nothing. Could it even be possible that somehow he survived his wife and children? The phrase a fate worse than death entered my mind as I contemplated a heartbroken Mr. Adams caring zealously for his ailing wife and children and then watching as each one passed from this world. The image was too much for me to bear and I laid my head down on the desk in front of me and sobbed. And it’s not just a few tears but I’m into a full-on ugly cry with blotchy face, tingly nose and the hiccups. It’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard! I mean, can you imagine the devastation? How does one even continue to live after that? I desperately want to know what Mr. Adams did next. Did he marry again? Move out West to start over? Drown himself in drink? Go crazy? With my head still on the desk, I wished with all my heart that there was something I could do for Mr. Adams – anything to help alleviate the awesome, sucking pain that must have consumed him.

You are doing it right now. The words crept softly but surely into my mind as I felt a warm feeling envelop me. As I looked up from my dingy desk, my eyes fell on a quote taped to the wall above the desk, “And in that glorious day, the dead for whom you do this work shall rise up and call you blessed…” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and pictured the Adams family being sealed together for all eternity and my heart was suddenly as full of joy as it had been of sorrow just moments ago. What a reunion that will be, don’t you think? I want to run the records myself over to the temple and have their work done immediately! The thought made me glance at the clock and I realized that I’ve been here an hour and a half. Dabbing at my eyes with a dusty tissue from a box on the shelf above me, I quickly shut down the machines and signed out, noting that again there isn’t a single additional signature besides mine since I started three months ago.

“Ack!” I screamed and dropped my bag as I turned from locking the door on my way out. After being with the dead for so long, seeing an actual living person is a little unnerving.

“Agh!” Tex yelled, my scream apparently startling him.

“I’m sorry,” we both exhaled at the same time and then burst out laughing.

I wiped my eyes again, hoping that all excess tears are gone. There’s no hope for my face – I’m sure it’s still all red and blotchy. “Whoa, you scared me! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I, uh, just wanted to give ya these,” he pulled a bunch of daisies wrapped in polka-dot cellophane out from behind his back. “Brooklyn said I could find you here.” Thrusting the flowers in my direction, he tipped his hat and grinned. “Happy Birthday, missy!”

“Wow, they’re really beautiful! Thank you.” My first flowers! Taking the flowers in shaking hands, I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

“It’s kind of hard to miss,” he ducked his head and chuckled.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” he said coyly and I wondered what was going on. I’m sure that none of my roommates know it’s my birthday. “So you like ‘em?” He pointed to the flowers. “Picked them out for you special. They kind of remind me of you, well, they remind me of home ‘cause they grow out in our alfalfa fields but you, um, remind me of home too.” Blushing, he looked away, focusing on the sign on the door. “So how’s your calling going anyhow?”

I remind him of home? It’s kind of a strange compliment and yet I can’t think of a sweeter one. Ignoring his awkward attempt at a subject change, I stepped closer to him in the deserted hallway. “I love them. They’re perfect.” Then I hugged him. I know! I didn’t think I’d ever get the guts to just walk up and hug a guy but I guess that’s why it worked – because I wasn’t thinking about it. Tex wrapped his arms around me tightly and I had to duck my head to avoid his hat. “Thanks, it’s really sweet of you,” I finished but he didn’t stop hugging me, enveloping me in his sharp clean scent of soap and dryer sheets. Finally his arms loosened a bit and he leaned back but didn’t let go. We stood, face to face, for probably ten seconds before I realized what was happening. He’s going to kiss me! Ack! I willed myself not to look away, noticing for the first time the dazzling azure of his eyes.

Then he stepped back and let go, taking my hands in his instead. “Can I walk ya home?”
Excuse me? I was about to have my first kiss and now I’m just getting walked home? What is going on here? Do I have bad breath?

“Sure, I guess,” I swallowed, trying not to show my disappointment. Seriously, this first kiss thing better happen quick or I’m going to have a heart attack waiting for it. You tell me – is it worth all this drama? It had better be, darn it.

As we walked up the stairs to the main floor of the Institute, Tex kept a hold of my hand, even as we walked through the crowds and out into the chilly air. “Smells like snow, don’t ya think?” he said as we started towards Pine Glen.

He wants to talk about the weather now? Can this be anymore confusing? Maybe it’s all part of some birthday prank. I didn’t answer him but buried my face in the tangy smell of the flowers instead.

“Listen,” he said, letting out his breath with a whoosh that puffed out like dragon smoke from his mouth. “I, uh, need to tell you something.” He ducked his head again in the now-familiar gesture so I couldn’t read his face.

“Um, okay,” I said hesitantly. “Anything wrong?” The way he was acting I was afraid someone had died or something.

Then he took off his wide hat and looked at me straight on, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just, uh, well, I really like you.” His voice was tight and strained and the blush was creeping up his cheeks.

“Oh,” I smiled. This was good, then!

“But that’s not all,” he said gaining strength back in his voice. “I hope you like me too but I’m not even going to ask you because, see, it wouldn’t be fair yet. I just want to be completely honest about my intentions with you. You know, give it to ya straight.”

His intentions with me? What is he talking about? It sounds like he’s going to break up with me, which would be really crazy since as far as I know we aren’t going out. “Ok.”

“I really like you,” he repeated, “but I got my mission papers on Sunday.”

“Oh congratulations!” I broke in.

“Um, thanks,” he shuffled his feet and looked over my shoulder. “Anyhow, when I go home for Thanksgiving my dad’s going to ordain me an Elder in the Melchezidek Priesthood.”

“Wow! That’s fantastic,” I gushed.

“And I’m going to get my physicals and stuff taken care of then too so hopefully I’ll get my papers sent off by the end of the month.”

“But that’s so soon!” I’ve known since the first day I met him that he was going on a mission soon but it never quite sunk in before.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “which is why I wanted to talk to you. I don’t want you to think I don’t like you ‘cause I do. I just don’t want to, you know, lead you on or anything. I mean, I’m leaving soon so you and I should probably just be friends and stuff.” He cleared his throat and played with his hat.

“I see,” I replied glumly. Well that explains all the near misses with the kissing thing.

“Of course I still want to see you and hang out and stuff,” he looked up at me. “I can’t even tell ya how much I like our talks.”

“Me too.” Part of me just wants to grab him and kiss him right there on the sidewalk. Except I have no idea how. Darn him and his honor.

“And I’m hoping that you’ll still be around when I get back.” He blinked quickly. “In two years.”

“Sure,” I smiled gently. “I’ll only be twenty then so I doubt I’ll be married and I know I’ll still be in school,” I laughed.

It took a second and then he did a double take. “You’re only eighteen?”

“As of today, yes.” I have to say I’m enjoying his discomfort a tiny bit. I mean, there’s not much that’s shocking about me so every once in awhile it’s fun to drop that bomb on people.

“Then that means when we met you were only…” his voice trailed off.

“I started college early,” I added helpfully.

After a pause, he put his hat back on. “Well it’s a good thing then that I didn’t do what I was thinkin’ about back there!” Then he laughed, his voice echoing loudly causing people passing us to stare.

As soon as we walked up the steps to my apartment I discovered what Tex had been talking about earlier. The door was covered in cut-out paper hearts and stars, each bearing a note from one of my brothers or sisters. Crepe paper outlined the doorframe and I saw the huge bouquet of balloons as soon as I opened the door.

“Hi sweetie!” My mom rushed to me with open arms.

“Happy birthday!” my family chorused, except little Freddy who clutched the balloons and glared at me, as if daring me to take them from him.

“Happy birthday honey!” Trinity cried archly from the couch, the smirk apparent on her face.

I blushed and looked around at my happy family. “Wow you guys thanks! I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing then,” my dad said happily, “it’s just good to see you!”

“I couldn’t miss my baby’s birthday,” my mom said stroking my hair. “After all it’s a pretty important day for me too. It’s the day I became a mother.” I saw the tears glistening in her eyes and I looked embarrassedly around the room. Tex leaned in the doorway, smiling. Jac had come out of her room, joining Trinity on the couch.

“Are you surprised?” Rosie yelled.

“Where’d you get the flowers?” Gabi demanded, eyeing Tex.

“I made your present myself!” Albert eagerly shoved a wrapped gift into my hands.

“Thanks,” I said hugging the three of them to me. “I can’t believe you all came out here to see me!”

“Believe it!” Jill called from the kitchen. “And your mom brought lunch!”

“It’s your favorite - chicken salad on croissants with grapes and almonds,” Gabi said helpfully in case I couldn’t tell from the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. “Plus there’s cake.”

“Come on! Let’s eat!” Jesiah tugged my hand. “I’m starving!”

My family all laughed loudly at this. “What else is new, huh?” my dad chided gently.

As we moved towards the table my mother called over her shoulder, “And I hope all of you will join us! I brought plenty for everyone.”

Trinity hopped up, “Free food? I’m in. Thanks Mrs. Cleaver!”

“You’re welcome,” my mother said happily.

“I should go,” Tex said quietly and turned to leave.

“Oh no you don’t!” my dad called after him. “You were the one that finally got her here for us! You have to say.”

“You were in on all this?” I laughed. He just shrugged and smiled, grabbing a plate.

………

It was the usual chaos when I got to work. I don’t know if it’s the restaurant business in general or just Kafé Neo’s but I swear we just go from one crisis to the next. On one hand it makes the time go quickly but on the other hand it all seems a little melodramatic. It’s just food you know? It’s not like we’re air traffic controllers or brain surgeons. Anyways, I’m not in the mood for it tonight. It hurt more than I want to admit when my family left to go back home. Even Trinity seemed a little depressed as we waved to them from our back deck.

“You on the floor tonight?” Yvonne asked me as I opened my locker and pulled out my skirt and tights.

“Nope. Upstairs. Band night.” I threw on my shirt and knotted my tie quickly with hardly a glance in the mirror.

“You lucky dog,” she replied. “I’m on Zone B tonight. What band is it?”

“Zone B should be good tips tonight, especially since you’re on it by yourself. You’re probably the only one of us that manage it,” I answered knowledgeably and she nodded. “I don’t know who’s playing. You coming up?”

“Depends,” she said around the tube of mascara she was holding in her teeth. I lined my eyes and added some dark eye shadow. “Call down if they’re any good and I’ll pop up on my break.”

“Right.” I dropped my lipstick in my apron and headed for the door, Yvonne following me. As I walked to the kitchen to start gathering supplies, it occurred to me that Yvonne and I have just had our very first entirely civil conversation.

Well practiced now, I kicked a stack of boxes into the elevator and then turned to hunt down Calvin and get some racks of glasses. I ran into Ryan first.

“Hey CC,” he said genially, handing me a slice of juicy watermelon. “You gonna hang around after work tonight?” Lately, I’ve been staying for a round or two of poker or to just talk or dance. Queen Mary’s been teaching me how to run the karaoke machine.

I nodded. “Probably.”

“What time you done?” He deftly arranged the sliced fruit on a glass plate and slid it down the table. “George!” he yelled.

“Don’t know. Depends on how long the band plays.”

“What band?”

Before I could answer, George swooped in and tossed the plate expertly onto his tray. “Some locals – no one I’ve ever heard of. Fish something I think.”

“Fish?” Ryan said raising an eyebrow.

I laughed, “Sounds like your kind of gig.”

Pulling a tiny fish head out from where it was happily rotting under the counter he turned to me, “I bet you a Blue Bunny I can land this baby on Yvonne’s tray.”

I scanned the kitchen, “Yvonne’s not even around! You’re on.” Just then Yvonne backed through the swinging silver doors as Ryan arched the fish head across the room. It landed perfectly and sickeningly on her tray, skidding across a salad plate before coming to rest in a pile of napkins. I clapped. “How do you do that?”

He shrugged modestly. “It’s a gift.” As I turned to go he reminded me, “Make that Blue Bunny a double chocolate, ok? And make sure it’s fresh, I hate it when they’re all melty.” I laughed and waved over my shoulder as I walked away to locate his ice cream bar.

………

“Hello my darling, prompt CC!” Lucien swept into the bar where I was already fanning cocktail napkins and wrapped his arms around me. “Do you know what tonight is?”

“Band Night?” I asked, handing him a box of stirrers to refill the glass jar.

Dropping the box right back onto the counter he replied with a half smile, “Come on, give me a little hug and I’ll tell you.” I turned around and he hugged me tightly, swinging me several times around the small box before setting me down again.

“Wow, you’re in a good mood tonight,” I laughed. “What’s the occasion?”

“Two words: Live Bait.”

“Eww, is that the special tonight? I thought the kitchen smelled funny.”

“Ah my dear,” he snapped me playfully with a bar towel and then leaped over the bar, landing with a thud half on a bar stool. “You should know by now – the kitchen always smells funny.” Running up on the stage he did a hyperactive mix of break dancing and disco, finally ending with a lovely number on the air guitar.

“Didn’t you read the label on your medication?” I said tapping my finger impatiently on the bar top. “It says ‘don’t mix with alcohol’.”

“Now that’s a good name for a band!” he laughed and jumped off the stage.

“Oh!” I smiled. “Live Bait’s the band tonight?”

“One of the best in the biz!”

I remembered Yvonne and Ryan’s reactions. “How come nobody’s ever heard of them then?”

“I’m sorry,” he bowed to me and held his hand out. “They’re one of the best unknowns in the biz.” I walked around the bar and took his hand, laughing as he twirled me around. “And I should know, I was there when they began.”

“You?” I tried to look surprised but really Lucien knows everyone. “No!”

“Yup. Coulda been in it too if I had any musical talent.” He declared as we danced to the beat in his head.

“Don’t worry darlings! I’m here and I brought the musical talent with me!” Queen Mary appeared out of the hallway lugging the karaoke machine. Lucien laughed and clicked his heels together. “Aha! I knew I smelled dancing!” Plugging in the machine she mumbled, “Nobody dances around here without me.”

After several minutes of fiddling with it, she leaped onstage, standing motionless in the direct center with her chin down on her chest and eyes (emerald green tonight in case you’re wondering) closed. As I prepared for something dramatic, a techno beat filled the room. “Amadeus, Amadeus!” Her head snapped up.

“Rock me Amadeus!” Lucien yelled with her as she sang, bobbing his head in rhythm with the song. In less than three minutes Trinity, Yvonne and George had all joined us for the dance.
………

The crowd started out small but enthusiastic. A few Live Bait groupies jumped frenetically in front of the low stage, occasionally hopping up on it in which case one of the band members would light-heartedly push them off. After their first set, they took a break and headed to the bar.

The guy with the bright grin bounced over to the bar, wiping the sweat off his face.
“Luc, you old…”

Lucien cut him off with a nod to me. “Hey man!” The guy pushed the hair out of his eyes and then dove headfirst over the counter, sliding into the bottles before crashing in a heap on the floor at my feet. “You freak! This is CC, stand up and say hello.” He popped up like he was made out of springs, the same silly grin plastered on his face. “CC, this is Tom,” Lucien kicked him lightly as the other two band members sauntered up to the bar, “Dick,” he nodded at a lanky guy with a goatee, “and…Julio, the founding members of Live Bait.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” I said as Tom grabbed my hand and started kissing up my arm.

I gasped and Lucien smacked him away. “She’s not like that you perv, now get back on your side of the bar.”

“This is my side of the bar,” he replied amiably, pulling several bottles off the shelf and a can of whip cream from the mini fridge. I winced, waiting for Lucien to have a fit like he usually does when anyone touches his bar but this time he just laughed and handed Tom a glass.

“CC, will you run downstairs and grab another box of straws?” Lucien said suddenly.

“As long as I can take the stairs,” I said. Anything to avoid my nemesis the elevator.

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “Just run.”

By the time I returned with the straws, Live Bait was back on stage and the crowd was thickening. “What a night, eh?” I handed Lucien the box but he seemed distracted and didn’t answer.

As the night wore on, more and more people arrived until the little loft was packed wall to wall. It was in the middle of Live Bait’s last set that it happened. Tom finished a song that as far as I could tell was an ode to baking soda (It makes bread rise/And puts out fires) when he suddenly turned towards the bar. “Now tonight we have a special little treat for you all. Today happens to be the birthday of…” I didn’t hear him finish because of the blood suddenly pounding in my ears.

The next thing I knew, Lucien was pushing me out of the bar. “Go on up there, CC! The boys wrote a little song for you.”

“What?” I gasped, trying to go back in the box.

“Oh, no you don’t!” He laughed, his eyes sparkling and dimples showing. “Get on up there!”

“I can’t just go up on stage,” I shrieked as I heard Live Bait’s drummer start them off on a fast beat.

“You can and you will!” Lucien said pulling me towards the stage. I dug my heels in. He sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.” He let go of my hand and I relaxed just in time for him to throw me over his shoulder and bound up the steps to the stage.

“Yahhhh!” Tom yelled into the microphone. “To the birthday girl!” The beat got even faster and the band started into a loud punk song causing the whole room to jump up and down as if controlled by a single fibrillating heartbeat. Lucien set me down next to Tom who nodded at me and then yelled into the microphone. “If I had a day/ A day that I could give to you/ I’d give to you/ A day just like today/ yeah yeah yeah/ Not a perfect day ‘cause nothing is/ But a day that I could love.”

I looked pleadingly over my shoulder at Lucien who was still blocking the stairs. What am I supposed to do up here with everyone staring at me? “Just feel it, CC.” His voice was soft in my ear and I tried to turn around but his hands on my shoulder kept me facing forward. I saw Trinity, Yvonne, George and Ryan all in the front row, part of the sea of bobbing heads smiling up at me. “This is your moment. Live in it.” I could hear the smile in his voice and I shook my head.

“I don’t know how!” I yelled.

“Yes, you do,” he replied firmly, putting his arm around me. “Just jump with me.” I did, my body quickly acclimating to the same frantic pulse that beat the crowd, and suddenly I could feel the rhythm flowing through me, with me, moving me. It was a little frightening at first but soon it was exhilarating and I got into it, even screaming the yeah-yeah-yeahs along with Tom when he handed me the mike.

“We have this day/ happy happy sad sad sad/ But we have this together/ yeah yeah yeah.” Tom threw his arm around me as the drummer dropped out leaving just the guitar, the rhythm mellowing. We sang the last line together, “Not a perfect day ‘cause nothing is/ But a day that I could love/ Just a day that I could love.” Tom winked at me before finishing with one last “yeah, yeah, yeah,” and a loud, clanging chord. The audience screamed as Tom nudged me forward. “Go on, then. Jump!”

“What?” I screamed looking at the sea of people at my feet. “No!”

“There’s only one way off this stage darlin’ and that’s it! Sayonara!” Ditching his guitar, he took a running leap and fell into the crowd who, like a single being, coalesced around him, passing him safely over their heads until he was placed on the ground.

“Go on CC!” Lucien yelled. He wants me to stage dive? What does he think this is – MTV’s Spring Break? “Just do it,” he said grinning. “Live for once.”

“But what if I fall?”

“Jump like you can’t fall!” With that he gave me a little push and I was falling through empty air. I didn’t even have time to scream before a multitude of hands caught me and I was traveling quickly to the edge where they set me down with more gentleness than I had anticipated.

………

I was almost finished cleaning up the bar, alone, when Lucien finally left the table and came back. “Heya beautiful,” he put his arm around my shoulders. “Why don’t you come take a break, chill out for a bit.”

“Sorry, got work to finish,” I grumbled and shrugged his arm off. Over the last half hour I’d mentally argued with Lucien, had it out with him and by now was in the anger aftermath. Of course he doesn’t know that but still. I hate that I’m always the one cleaning up while the rest of them sit on the clock and drink. Even Queen Mary joins in some nights. If I follow their pace, it’ll be three o’clock in the morning before we finish.

He took the bar rag out of my hands and dropped it on the counter I’d just wiped down, leaving a smelly puddle. “This’ll wait. You gotta meet Tom, Dick and Julio. They’re hilarious.”

I turned to Lucien, putting my hands on my hips. “We met, remember? And believe me, I can hear you all laughing from over here.” As if on cue, Yvonne let out a particularly boisterous giggle that set everyone else off. “Besides, all you guys are doing is drinking and talking about drinking.” I know it’s harsh but it’s true. I’ve come to notice that when people are drinking they also spend a lot of time talking about their drinking. It’s all very boring for someone who doesn’t drink, you know?

“Oh, we’re not that bad,” he smiled charmingly, his dimples showing beneath two days of scruff. I might have been swayed except that I could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the fire in his eyes. Yvonne, apparently ready for a refill, stood up to make her usual wobbly way to the bar. Lucien and I watched her slow approach.

“Why does she do this?” I asked, finally spitting out the question that has been bothering me for weeks. Every night I work with Yvonne ends the same way – with her drunk or on her way there. That’s usually about the point where I leave although from what I’ve heard she often progresses to puking or passing out. Or both.

“Simple,” Lucien said leaning back on the counter with a funny half smile on his face. “You haven’t been a bartender long enough to know this but there are really only two reasons why people drink – to forget and to remember. Vonnie’s a forgetter, aren’t you sweetie?”

Yvonne leaned heavily on the bar top and glared at him. “I am not in the mood for any of your philoso-, phillossa-, phill-o-whatever,” she slurred and waved her hand at me. “Just give me another beer, CaraCaraCaraCara.” As if she had made some clever joke she broke out into a throaty laugh.

“What does she want to forget?” I asked Lucien as he took the top off another beer and handed it to her.

“Why don’t you ask her?” he said simply.

Yvonne slapped her hand down on the counter and stared hard at both of us. “I donneven know whatcher talkin’ about but,” she waggled her finger at Lucien, “it’d better not be me.” With that she stumbled away mumbling a few expletives mixed with a diatribe about how people need to mind their own business around this place.

“What’s that all about?” I asked him.

Jumping up, he sat on the counter, tossing a straw in the garbage before replying. “It’s not my story to tell, CC, but let’s just say that Vonnie has a lot of things she’d like to forget and getting drunk’s the quickest way to it.”

I watched Yvonne take her seat, and almost miss it, as Trinity and the boys welcomed her back. “All right,” I said, “I can see how drinking can help you forget, at least temporarily, but what about the rest of you? What’s your excuse?”

“Ah,” he answered, still smiling. “To remember. To remember what it feels like to feel good again. To remember what it feels like to be real again.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You don’t feel real without alcohol?”

“Come here,” he patted the countertop next to him, helping me as I jumped up. “It’s very liberating. You wouldn’t get this seeing as you’ve never tried it but the drink just has a way of bringing out the real you. You know, the person you’d be if you weren’t afraid of what others thought or even what you thought. The person you’d be if you weren’t limited.”

“Limited by what?”

“By society. By your past. By your faults. By others’ expectations. By the universe. Whatever.” I looked from Lucien, still smiling expansively, over to the table where the boys and Trinity were still laughing at something. Yvonne now sat with her head on the table, her glorious black hair fanned out and shoulders shaking. I think she’s crying.

“So basically alcohol makes you feel free and then you do stupid things that you regret so you drink to forget them. Then you drink more to remember how you felt before you started the whole mess?”

Lucien just laughed and patted my head, “You make it all so complicated.”

“Maybe the simple answer is you’re all just addicts.”

He looked at me with a straight face but I could see a smile playing around his mouth. “Absolutely, my dear. Never said otherwise.” I jumped off the counter in frustration as he laughed loudly. “I’ll drink to that!” He held up his glass and took a swallow.

“I think I’m done here.” I said hotly as I grabbed the last box and stormed out of the box and down the dark hallway, not bothering to say good-bye to anyone.

Lucien followed me to the elevator. “Don’t leave all mad, CC,” he said holding out his hand to me. I didn’t take it. “I was just telling you how it is.”

“No you weren’t,” I sighed. “You were playing with me.”

“Just stay and talk to me for a minute,” he pleaded. “I like it when you talk to me.” He cocked his head and tried his signature smile on me again.

“You’re drunk,” I replied flatly and grabbed the strap on the elevator door. Lucien watched me with amusement. We both know it’s a hollow gesture – I still can’t get the stupid doors to close on my own.

“I’m not drunk,” he said clearly, turning his overbright eyes on me. “There’s a big difference between drinking and drinking to get drunk. I don’t get drunk ever. Buzzed, yes. Drunk, no. You want honesty? I’ll be honest. I don’t like to be drunk - it makes me lose control and the thing I fear most in the world is losing control. There.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Not good enough,” I grumbled.

“What do you want from me?” he sulked. “I already gave you a killer birthday present. How many other girls get a live birthday tribute in front of a hundred people by one of the best bands ever not known?”

“Well,” I said cracking a smile, “that last part’s debatable but yeah, thanks. That was pretty cool, I guess.”

“I guess?” He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s was totally freakin’ awesome!”

“So which are you?”

“Huh?”

“Are you a forgetter or a rememberer?”

He sighed and sat down in the elevator, unfazed by the creaking and swaying. “You’re not going to let this go are you?” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, waiting. “Fine. A little of both I suppose. Mostly a rememberer.” Leaning his head back against the metal paneling he laughed softly. “I guess the simple answer is there are no simple answers. You want to know the real reason I drink?” I nodded. “Well then you’d better have a seat. It’s a long story.” I overturned a milk crate and sat down across from him. “Not there,” he laughed again and patted the floor next to him. “I can see up your skirt. Not that I don’t like it but it’s distracting.” I jumped to feet, my cheeks hot, speechless. “Oh, don’t be like that,” he continued. “I didn’t have to say anything you know.” I guess he has a point there. “Now come here. I’m going to tell you a story I don’t tell many people.” Rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn, I sat down next to him, wincing at the cold metal. “Come to think of it, you may be the first.” Settling his arm around me, he began. “Funny coincidence, it all started with my eighteenth birthday.” First Hazel and now Lucien. Maybe eighteen is good for something besides being one year closer to eighteen. “You want to know what I got for my birthday?” he asked jovially.

“Hit me,” I replied in the same bantering tone.

“Funny you should say that,” he laughed. “I got a broken nose.” I sat stunned as he laughed like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“Were you in an accident?” I gasped, wondering where the humor was in this story.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. My dad’s fist accidentally met my nose.” He laughed again.

“What?” I whispered, the word caught in my throat.

“He cornered me in my closet and just started punching me, you know, telling me what a loser I am and how I’ll never amount to anything. The funny thing is, he’s such a loser that it took him like eight punches to finally break my nose.”

I stared at him, residual traces of mirth still on his face. He seemed completely unaffected by what he was telling me. “That’s awful,” I finally answered.

“No, the truly awful part is my mom just stood there and watched him. Never said a thing. Even as I ran out of the house. She knew I was leaving for good and she didn’t even say good-bye.” Finally he stopped smiling.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” What else can I say, really?

“Don’t be,” he said, the tightness evident in his voice. “Leaving home that year was the best thing I ever did. I ran far and long until I ended up here via a free greyhound ticket. I met those guys,” he nodded back in the direction of the loft, “at the bus station. They took me in, helped me get a job. Plus they gave me as much beer as I wanted. It was this miraculous thing – all of a sudden I wasn’t just some run away kid who couldn’t even fight off his old man but I was tough, powerful, in control. Basically they were my family for like three years.”

“Wow,” I said, my negative opinion of Tom, Dick and Julio taking a sharp turn towards the positive. “I’m amazed you survived all that.”

He shrugged and gave me a little squeeze. “Don’t be. Surviving is what I do best. I’m like a cockroach, you know? You can stomp on me, make me eat dirt and throw your worst poison at me but I just make a little dirt-and-poison sandwich and keep coming back for more.” He stood up, brushing off his slacks and then helped me up. “Thanks for listening. I needed that.” Then I did it again. Twice in one day! I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. He hugged me tightly and kissed my forehead, “Thanks, I needed that too.” He turned and stepped out of the elevator.

Suddenly concerned that telling me his story was going to send him on a real bender I called after him, “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Oh,” he smiled at me as pulled the inside gate down for me, speaking through the grate. “Don’t worry, I’m done drinking for tonight. I’m just going to go back and sit with them until they’re done, make sure everyone gets home safe you know?”

“Okay,” I replied hesitantly. “Do you need help?”

“Nah,” he laughed, “done it a million times. I’m a professional remember? You go home now. Besides, it’s going to get ugly. Yvonne’s already crying in her drink. She’s twenty minutes from puking and then passing out.” He reached up and yanked on the strap to close the outside doors. As they came together he left his parting words. “And CC? Don’t let me see up your skirt again. Not sure if I could take it, s’all I’m saying.”
- posted by Charlotte @ 2:45 PM