When Olivia met K
Chapter XVI
Clint & Rusty
written by: Michael McCarthy
@FlateyeFiction
Sometimes I liked to sit at one of the tables in the bar on my own with the ghosts of times gone by for company. They comforted me.
But tonight I could feel a different presence that had been growing in intensity over the last few weeks.
It was nearly dark, the flickering glow from a streetlight through the cracks of the semi-closed blinds was the only illumination in the bar. It was all I needed. There was a full unopened bottle of cognac in front of me and one empty glass.
Somehow, despite my shaking hands, I managed to prise the lid off the bottle and fill the glass and then I downed the contents in one.
‘‘Remember me, Clint?’’
I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to. That near whisper of a voice still haunted my dreams.
‘‘Rusty.’’
‘‘Yes, Clint. I think you’ve always known, I’d be back one day. Haven’t you?’’
‘‘It’s been a long time but I’ve never lost the hope. You’ve always been in my thoughts.’’
‘‘I know. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Clint. Fancy a trip down memory lane? For old times’ sake.’’
‘‘I’m always up for a spot of nostalgia.’’
‘‘Think back to when we were together. Can you remember what we talked about in the very early days?’’
‘‘No. It’s so long ago.’’
‘‘I can. You spoke about your size, your weight and your lack of charm.’’
‘‘It used to bother me.’’
‘‘Understandably.’’
‘‘But I could open up to you.’’
‘‘You don’t feel that way about yourself now, do you?’’
‘‘No. Thanks to you.’’
‘‘You’re looking at that bottle rather longingly, Clint. Don’t fight it. Pour yourself another.’’
‘‘I could do with it, actually.’’
‘‘Remember what else I told you? About how you’d gone against your nature for too long?’’
‘‘Yes, I do.’’
‘‘And you’re doing it again. Aren’t you?’’
‘‘Yes, but it’s part of who I am. People expect it from me.’’
‘‘The rough and ready, heavy drinking mine host.’’
‘‘Well, you’re not here anymore…”
“You’re a softy, Clint. Be true to yourself.’’
‘‘I’ll try.’’
‘‘You won’t. I’ll never forget what you said about your criminal past, your wording; you said, ‘My appearance belied my former reputation but it also gave me an advantage; nobody took me seriously. To their cost.’ There was a lot of pride in that sentence. You were quite the orator.’’
‘‘It had to be that way. I had to make a living.’’
‘‘That’s when the drink started taking over. You were pouring it down your neck back in those days. Much more than tonight.’’
‘‘You wanted to know all about me; the good and the bad. That’s what you said.’’
“I did. You told me that you’d been a career criminal; theft and violence mainly. It was a good living. Then you got involved with special forces.”
‘‘Maybe I said too much.’’
‘‘In vino veritas, Clint.’’
‘‘Where are you?’’
‘‘You know, Clint. Let’s talk about the bar in the early days.’’
‘‘It was a grotty little place….’’
‘‘Still is.’’
‘‘I’m still a grotty little guy.’’
‘‘I thought you were over that.’’
‘‘I am. I just couldn’t resist it.’’
‘‘Back to the subject in hand, Clint.’’
‘‘Anyway, I nearly gave the bar up a couple of weeks after taking it over. That’s what you mean. It was my soon to be regulars who unwittingly saved it.’’
‘‘I wish you had and they hadn’t.’’
‘‘I had a lot of pressure at the time, leaving the services and raising the money for the bar. It was to be my dream come true.’’
‘‘You were hard on yourself and me, Clint.’’
‘‘I’ve always had a problem taking orders, and that even includes people ordering drinks. I’ve got a hair trigger temper.’’
‘‘And you nearly always let it get the better of you.’’
‘‘I told you things were heavy. There was more, things you didn’t know about.’’
‘‘Is that what they call extenuating circumstances?’’
‘‘Within days these guys began drifting in here, word spread like wild fire, none of them knew each other, they’d all been looking for Clint’s without knowing it or that it existed. They’re like me, the sort of people you might not make welcome in your local bar.’’
‘‘By the way, Clint, your glass is empty again. Fill it up. It’s making you talk. That’s no bad thing.’’
‘‘You’re right. Anyway, how could I have rejected them?’’
‘‘You could have. Anybody else would have.’’
‘‘They’re a mixed bunch, or The Mild Bunch as I like to refer to them, and I sometimes wonder what would have happened to some of them if they hadn’t had my bar to come to.’’
‘‘It was me that christened them the Mild Bunch.’’
‘‘You were always good for a sarcastic put down. I’m sure some of them would have died, been murdered is probably a more accurate way to put it. Some would be rotting away in some prison somewhere. Some may even have settled down with a partner and with dreams of starting a family; those dreams wouldn’t have been realized for long.’’
I poured another glass. My hands were shaking even more. But I needed it. She knew.
‘‘That’s life, Clint. You can’t be responsible for everybody. You’ve got to choose your responsibilities wisely.’’
‘‘I remember, you asked me about my name. I don’t know who christened me Clint, nobody does, but it’s followed me around for decades. It fits and it’s a great name for a bar.’’
‘‘You’ve grown into it.’’
‘‘I’ve listened to so many of my regulars crying into their beer. Some of them I could have cheerfully thrown out, but they can’t help it.’’
‘‘It was too much for you. You needed somebody to unburden yourself to.’’
‘‘I used to have somebody. You. Now I’ve got Ernst.’’
‘‘Good old Ernst.’’
‘‘I know what my regulars are thinking and feeling. I’ve been there. ’’
‘‘I don’t want you going back there, Clint.’’
‘‘There are times, of course, when I wake up in the early hours and my head is filled with memories of my previous life. I’ve learnt from experience not to fight it, just let these thoughts flow through my mind and then eventually they’ll find a dark corner somewhere until the next time.’’
‘‘Throw some light into those dark corners, Clint.’’
“You know the saying, ‘You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?’ That was you in my case.’’
‘‘I know. I feel the emptiness too.’’
‘‘Please tell me where you are.’’
‘‘You know, Clint.’’
‘‘You didn’t want to live above the bar, you said it would take over our lives. You were right. But that was what I thought I wanted.’’
“Like you said, it was your dream.’’
“Then you weren’t there anymore.”
‘‘I know.’’
‘‘What happened to you?’’
‘‘Never mind.’’
‘‘Whatever it was I hope you didn’t suffer. They never found you. I hate to think of your body just rotting away somewhere.’’
‘‘Ashes to ashes, Clint. Talking of suffering, you don’t look too good, yourself.’’
‘‘It’s been a long day and there’ve been a lot of late nights recently.’’
‘‘Nothing new for you. But you look grey, tired and scruffy. Come on. Pull yourself together!’’
‘‘I still miss you.’’
‘‘I miss you too, Clint.’’
I looked at the bottle, it was nearly empty. I put it to my lips and finished it.
When it was empty, she was gone.
I had to tell somebody. There was only one person I could tell, Ernst.
Even I realized I had to cut down on the booze, but when Ernst came that’s what we did, we hit the cognac. ‘Birds of a feather.’ That’s what Rusty called us. We were where we always were when we really got talking, getting down to the nitty gritty; sitting on either side of the bar with a bottle of cognac between us.
‘‘She’s back.’’ I said.
‘‘Who’s back?’’
‘‘Who else? Rusty. Of course.’’
‘‘I haven’t seen her.’’
‘‘You won’t. But she’s started coming to me.’’
‘‘In your dreams?’’
‘‘No, here in the bar.’’
‘‘Are you saying, you’ve actually spoken to her.’’
‘‘Of course. But I don’t understand why she picked now to come back.’’
‘‘She didn’t pick the time. You did. This is your moment of greatest need.’’
‘‘No. I think she came back because she’s worried about me. She feels my pain.’’
‘‘You’re right, Clint. That’s why she came back.’’
- Clint & Rusty - December 11, 2024
- Olivia’s first visit to K - November 26, 2024
- Clint & Ernst - October 7, 2024
