Sunday, December 16, 2012


The world snapped back into reality.  Unfortunately, by the time Brink regained his wits the train had long since passed.  With a panic he made his way out of the subway and into the cool night air.

It was a long walk home.  If he could walk on water it was only a couple miles.  Having missed the train he’d have to walk all the way up to the bridge and back down.  That would be over 13 miles and take the better part of the night.  Plus he was hungry. 

He slumped on the curb and watched the occasional car drive by for a while.  He didn't like the idea, but it didn't seem like he had much choice.  His old friend Louie lived in the neighborhood and would surely put him up for the night.  Brink was tired though, and there was no doubt Louie would be a whirl wind of excitement to see his pal show up in the middle of the night.  “One thing' for certain: there's no way I'm telling him about that woman!”

Twenty minutes later Brink was knocking on Louie's door.  He heard some muffled cursing from inside, but when the door swung open Louie’s face instantly switched from hatred to unbridled jubilation.  “Brink! Buddy! What’s a dried up old maid like you doing out at this late hour knocking at my door?  It's a dame! Isn't it! Where is she?” Louie’s head shot out into the hall.

“It's not a dame.  I just missed my train.  You know me.  I just had to take that one last customer.  She...”

“So it was a dame!  Why don’t you come in and have your self a drink.  Something good and stiff to warm you up.  Tell me all about it.”

Louie had a nice apartment for this part of town.  It was open and spacious.  He could afford a cleaning lady, he needed a cleaning lady, but Brink supposed Louie didn't notice his place was a mess. His cats were mostly friendly and the couches were pretty comfortable to sleep on.  Louie was a trustworthy friend; the only problem was Louie would do his best to keep Brink up drinking ‘til sunrise.  Not that he had much to do the next day besides sit around, but he'd rather sit around with out a hangover.

“Hey pal, I just go this bottle of, damn, Glen something or another.  it's old enough to vote and it’ll knock the hair off yer ass!”

“Thanks, Louie, but if it's all the same, I've had a long day and have to get an early jump on tomorrow.”  Brink may have been lying about the morning, but his bones and his nerves were just about done with the being awake.

“Just one glass then.  Come on.  I already poured them.”  He hadn't, but Brink nodded in acquiescence anyway.  He was barging in late at night.  One drink with his old friend surely wouldn't hurt.

It did.