I went home after that, showered, slept, dressed and headed back to work later that day. I smiled at Frankie as I came through the door and hit the jukebox in just the right place so it started playing without any money.
“You know something would be terribly wrong with the world if I didn’t hear that song once a day,” Frankie said, smiling as the sound of Garth Brooks’ “Friends In Low Places.” I had been playing that song on the jukebox since the day I started work there.
“Something would be terribly wrong with the world, Frankie boy, if we didn’t have friends in low places,” I answered. I tossed my backpack under the bar and tied my apron on.
“So how did it go with Jack Daniels?” Frankie asked.
“Fine. He left out of here at about eight o’clock this morning. He’s got a lot of pain in him though,” I said, turning on the open sign in the window.
“Did he give you a name?”
“Nope. Said Jack Daniels worked just fine for him.” I shrugged and poured myself a cup of coffee.
“Don’t shrug at me, Busy. I know what’s going on in your head. You like him,” Frankie pointed out.
“Oh yeah, Frankie. I fall for all the drunks with broken hearts who won’t tell me their names,” I said, sarcastically.
“But he’s a broken heart, my girl, and for you that’s something you just can’t bear. You like him and you want to help him.”
“Frankie doll, I want to help everybody,” I answered as the first customer came in. “Hey, Sam,” I greeted one of the regulars.
And that was how the evening progressed. Some regulars, some strangers and some simply looking for a bathroom or directions wandered in.
I thoroughly enjoyed my job. It wasn’t glamorous and it didn’t pay much but I met some great people, made some good friends, and I had ever helped a few lost souls heal and find their way home. Sure it had it’s moments where the dirty dingy bars got their reputations. A drunk who refused to leave or a bar fight that caused damage, but for the most part the Lonely Star was a quiet little bar with good people.
It was just after eight o’clock when my stranger walked back into the bar. He looked at me for only a moment before bowing his head and heading straight to the stool that had become his own.
“Your friend is back,” Frankie yelled over the music as I picked up an order.
“You saw him first,” I shot back, smiling as I walked away.
Though I brushed off the reference of the stranger being mine I watched him all night. He drank regularly, never moving, never speaking. He just drank from the bottle of Jack Daniels he ordered when he came in. When that bottle ran out he ordered another and drank from it.
As the customers cleared out at two o’clock I said good-bye to each of them with a smile. When I turned back to the bar I saw Jack Daniels passed out once again, this time slumped against the bar.
“Damn it,” I mumbled. “Frankie, give me a hand?”
“Wake him up,” Frankie answered, shaking his head.
“Frankie, he’s passed out. Just help me get him into the back. When he wakes up I’ll get a name, an address, something that will get him home next time he does this. Come on, Frankie. Just help me,” I ordered, pulling Jack Daniels’ slumped body up.
Frankie helped me get him back in the storeroom and on to the cot. Then after going through the “are you sure you’ll be all right” speech I walked him to the door and locked it behind him.
I cleaned up going through the nightly ritual before heading back to the storeroom and checking on my stranger. I watched him in the dim light of the moon at spilled through the window and I let my thoughts drift around him.
I wondered still about his name, his history, the people he loved. Why didn’t anyone look for him? Why did he spend all his nights alone inside a bar? Where were the people who loved him, who worried about him, who wanted him to come home?
His thrashing and screaming once again interrupted my sleep. I crawled over to him and gently touched his face. I didn’t try to wake him this time, just tried to soothe the nightmares that attacked him.
“Please, don’t leave me. I love you. Don’t go,” he cried out.
“Shh,” I whispered, running a hand along his face in a gentle touch. “Shh.”
“Please, don’t leave me here without you,” he whispered, his hands suddenly reaching out and grabbing me. He pulled me into his arms and simply held me and that seemed to soothe his dreams.
I lay there in his arms for just a few minutes wondering what to do and then I made up my mind. I snuggled closer to this man who’s heart hurt so very much and I went back to sleep in his arms. Whoever this man was, he needed me to heal the pain he carried inside his heart.
When I woke up the next time it was to the bright sunlight streaming through the window and a gentle hand running through my long black hair.
“Are you awake?” his raspy voice asked me.
“Yes,” I answered, looking up at him.
“How did you yet over here? I mean how did you get from the pile of blankets in the corner to my arms?” he asked, quietly.
“You were having a nightmare, kicking and screaming. When I tried to soothe you so you could sleep you kept begging someone not to leave you. Then you grabbed me and when you had me in your arms your nightmare stopped,” I explained.
“I loved her very much. She was my best friend and all the beautiful moments in my life. She made everything perfect for me, for everyone in our lives. The truth is I was in love with her but she was married to one of my best friends so she was always there but just out of my reach where I wanted to hold her the most,” he said, spilling his secret though I hadn’t asked.
“What is her name?” I whispered.
“Was. What was her name,” he corrected.
“What happened to her?”
“She died two years ago,” he answered. “She was so full of life though. Every moment had this kind of magic, she saw things most people couldn’t even imagine.”
“Did you tell her you loved her?” I asked as his hand continued to stroke my hair.
“Yes, every time I saw her. I never told her I was in love with her though. She was mad about her husband and I could never come between that.”
It must have suddenly occurred to him what he was doing but he pushed me away and bolted off the bed.
“I have to go,” he said, heading for the door.
“Wait,” I yelled. He spun back and looked me dead in the eye and for the first time I could tell they were the most beautiful shade of brown. Like chocolate and almost black, you could have gotten lost in them.
“Frankie’s not going to let you crash here again. If you come back and pass out again you’re on the street. I need a name or an address. Something to get you home, Jack Daniels,” I said, watching him.
He stood silent for a moment staring at me before shaking his head.
“If I pass out again leave me on the street,” and with those words he turned and left the bar.
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