“People change.” Colin punctuated his statement by standing. “You should be familiar with that.” He took off his hat and bowed slightly. He lit a cigarette and began to walk away from Kendra as a scorned friend. When he felt a safe distance away from her, he looked back. She sobbed into one hand while producing a box of cigarettes from the coach bag at her side. Hypocrite, he thought. Haw many times had he heard her sermon about the dangers of smoking? Surely a dozen.
His phone sang “Flight of the Bumblebee.” He reached for the source of the noise, and looked at the screen. An unfamiliar number appeared, but Colin was used to this. His new phone had approximately a quarter of the numbers saved when compared to his previous one. He hesitated to press the talk button, but curiosity got the better of him. He greeted the anonymous caller.
“Colin, man, you busy?” Colin thought about the voice and tried to place it to a face. Was it Todd?
“Why, what’s up?” He considered asking who was on the other line, but pride kept him away from the question. His face contorted deep in thought, his eyebrows moved to touch each other. Was it Alex?
“Can you meet me at the pub?” It isn’t Chuck, Colin thought. Chuck doesn’t drink. He thought about the bars and the people he frequented them with. He could think of three bars and about seven people off the top of his head. He couldn’t force himself to ask which put, just as he couldn’t ask for the identity of the caller. Colin stalled with ‘ums’ and ‘uhhs.’ Not Pieter’s Pub, he thought. He hasn’t been there in years.
“Sure, I’ll be there in about ten.” He decided to go to Gene’s, his favorite bar, his home away from home. A shot of Jack Daniels would make him feel better after the bitter confrontation with Kendra, and he could get at least one more name in his phone. That is, if he picked the correct bar. He said goodbye to the caller and pocked his phone.
Colin played a game on the way to the bar: he tried to find a rainbow of colors within the makes. He spotted an orange Range Rover across the street, Yellow Jaguar running a stop sing, Blue Cavalier next to him. He couldn’t find a green car, but the red Kia Rio in front of Gene’s seemed familiar. He recognized the blue “Question Reality” sticker stuck in an awkward angle on his bumper, and when he approached the other side, he found a long scratch from a story involving a key and tequila. At least he was at the right bar, he thought.
An assortment of people populated the hall of neon lights and colored liquors. Colin recognized a handful of them, but wrote it off as regularing the spot. The sweet smell of booze and stale cigarettes almost overcame Colin, and he could feel himself swooning if he were more tired or already drunk: it smelled like home. He ordered two shots and a beer and spotted Todd across the room. He was resting his head on a fist, his elbow on the jukebox. He approached Todd after asking the bar tender to get another one ready. That’s right, Colin thought. It was Todd’s car.
Todd glanced over his shoulder towards Colin. When he was in range, Todd reached his hand around Colin’s waste and pulled him close, hanging on to a handful of his plain black tee-shirt. They embraced like brothers as Todd shouted over the B-52’s about how good it was to finally see him again. Colin knew that Todd was not the source of the phone call, but still was overjoyed to see him. Colin explained the situation of his new phone and lost numbers, and programmed Todd’s number in.
“Oh, hey, do you know whose number this is?” Colin recited the phone number to him. Todd repeated the number out loud and squinted, forcing the wrinkles in his forehead to make maps across his face. Todd pulled at his phone and began to press buttons. Colin brushed past him and pressed 8904 on the jukebox to place “Freebird” in the queue. “Well?” Colin pressed for information.
“Well what?” Todd closed his phone and clipped it back onto his belt.
“Whose number is it?” Colin tried to recall the timbre of the voice as it told him to meet at the ‘pub.’ Was this the right one? Was the caller watching him then? He scanned the room again.
“Did you use one of my credits?” Todd looked from the Jukebox to Colin. He looked annoyed.
“Freebird, man.” Colin’s grin stretched like a slack rope. He patted Todd’s back.
“Ass, I was gonna play that one last.” The song “Rock Lobster” ended, and shortly after a mandolin signaled the intro to an R.E.M. song. Colin shrugged and stepped through a small crowd of people encompassed by a small cloud of smoke. He placed a ten dollar bill on the counter and downed his third shot. He nodded a thank you and carried the pale green bottle back to Todd.
“So do you know whose number that was?” Colin stared at Todd’s eyes and thought that he could actually see gears turning past his pupils.
“Did they call you?” Sometimes Todd was just idiotic, thought Colin.
“How else would I have the number?” Todd either looked disappointed or disapproving. It was hard for Colin to decide which. “So you know who it was.”
Todd kept his eyes focused on the Jukebox. Colin began to feel the effects of the whiskey. Maybe it was just him wanting to be drunk. He read somewhere that a person’s mentality could affect the symptoms of drinking. He finished half of his beer and decided that mentally or not, he would be drunk shortly.
“Did you answer?” Todd made a selection on the jukebox and avoided Colin’s gaze. After his last selection, Todd abruptly stood straight up and headed to a close table, continuing his avoided stare. He looked around the room as Colin had when he first arrived.
“Yeah, he said to meet him here.”
“Here? And you didn’t ask who it was.” It was a statement, Colin knew that he disapproved. Colin finished what was left in his beer, and returned to the bar, exchanged the empty bottle for a new one. When he returned, Todd held his hand over his right eye, his fingertips just grazing the slight recede in his hair line.
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a phone call,” Colin said as he took a seat across from Todd. The comment must have struck a nerve with Todd. His head shot up and his fingers exposed his eyes. “What? How am I supposed to react to such a serious stare? You know who it was, just tell me.” Colin was getting frustrated and anxious.
“I didn’t even think he had your number. He must’ve gotten it from Kendra.” Todd was staring past him. Colin turned to see what Todd was looking at. Probably nothing, Colin thought. He folded his arms. The beer rested in his elbow like a breastfeeding infant.
“Kendra? What does she have to do with it?” Colin couldn’t think of anyone he knew through Kendra. She knew most of her friends through Colin.
“He said Gene’s?”
“He said ‘the pub.’ This is the first logical place I thought of.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew who the caller was. It was Doug, Kendra’s recent ex-boyfriend. Colin had only met him twice that he could remember. He thought he was finished with Kendra, at least for the night. “Who was it,” Colin demanded. Todd shook his head while Colin glared at him with a sobering intensity. He needed to hear it to be certain. He doubted himself. He didn’t want it to be true. The “Flight of the Bumblebees” pierced through “Freebird.” The screeching melody of his phone continued as Colin adjusted to have enough room to remove the phone. He was at the wrong bar, he knew that now. “It’s Doug, isn’t it.” Todd remained silent, staring at the table. Colin pressed the silence button and walked back to the bartender.
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