FSE

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~ Chapter 25 ~

The line between late summer and early autumn was blurring. The days were still as balmy as ever but the nights were cooling. The nights were still too warm for shoes or long-sleeved shirts, but the air felt less oppressive than even the shade during the day. It was also less humid. I didn't feel like I needed to take a shower four times a day anymore, maybe three. Susurrant breezes clacked the branches of trees together as they stood sentry along the perimeter of the sidewalks I was currently meandering down.

"Hey, Bruise!" my hand slapped down a five-spot in front of the giant bison. I flashed my i.d., "Pulling double-duty tonight?" Infinitá seemed like as good a place as any to be going to this night.

"Yeah," Bruise nodded as he skimmed my i.d. and put the five-dollar bill away, "Kent's taking some personal time this week. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," I shrugged and smiled at him as I walked into the club-proper, "I promise I'll be back on my routine soon!"

Infinitá hadn't changed. The same reverberant music thumped my chest and the dimly lit air was still a mix of smoke, fog, and god knows what else. Nostalgic and intoxicating scents pulled a familiar relaxing breath into my lungs. On the dance floor the same obscure, anonymous masses pressed into each other. My eyes took in the bacchanal and I made a beeline for another familiar spot.

The high-backed, dark wooden booths, polished smooth from decades of use, still sat at the far end of the club near the kitchen and administrative rooms. Along that employees-only hallway was the emergency exit I snuck out of and had my first substantive conversation with Kat.

"The prodigal son returneth!" Kat's orange figure slid across the other side of the booth and sat down. She held a book in her hands. Her green eyes were lustrous in the light.

"About that," I started.

Kat waved me off, "Naw, it's okay. Take a look at what I found in back!" She held out the book to me. It looked old and ratty with yellowed pages and a faded cover. I could barely make out the words, "Blind Tiger Bullion".

"What is it?"

"It's an old mixology book from, like, the late Nineteen-Twenties! I guess one of the former owners put it together as instructions on how to subvert the Prohibition laws. See, look here:" she flipped the book open to a list of drinks inside, "Colony Cola; it's a cocktail with grapefruit and actual cola. Blackberry Bramble, Thunderclap Soda, Russian Snowdrift. Infinitá was a speakeasy!"

"Wow, cool!" I praised in amazement and leaned over the table to get a closer look. It was really cool to think that this place had that much history behind it. I never stopped to think about it before, but it did make sense.

"You see," Kat continued, "Drinks were ordered under allusive codewords such as 'Cola', 'Soda', 'Ginger Ale', 'Sarsaparilla' or whatever. They taste the same and utilizing the actual non-alcoholic drinks, they could sneak in alcohol during the shipments of, say, cherry syrup." She flipped the pages some more, "And here, it says that the storage room was called the 'Cheese Room'. Isn't that wild?"

"Incredibly!" I smiled Kat's infectious smile back at her as she continued to flip through the pages. I looked around what I thought was just a ramshackle club that was just a redecorated mom-and-pop restaurant. I figured the dance-floor was originally just more seating for customers who came in from their daily grind.

And as I watched the people on the dance floor, the sea parted slightly and there he was. Aaron was dancing, his hips swaying, his feet keeping beat, his head down, his hands -

• his hands reaching for a slender shape beside him and drawing it in close. What was it? A mouse? A ferret?

My stomach dropped away from me, like it had when Mom told me that Becky was in an accident. I knew I had to think, had to form a lucid thought. It wouldn't come. My brain flatlined as if a single word was stuck on the tip of my tongue and had I forgotten how to describe it. What was happening?

"Oh, my god, Caleb!" Kat's distant voice shook me back to attention, "You didn't know? Caleb?"

"He hit me," I heard myself say. I couldn't determine whether all my nerves were on fire or if I was completely numb.

"What? Who hit you?"

"Aaron," came an automated reply, "hit me. He hit me and then Becky was in a car accident."

"Who is Becky, Cade?"

"My sister."

"Oh, Kit," Kat's orange presence shifted and she was sitting next to me, holding me, petting me, "I'm so sorry. Is she okay?"

"She's alive."

"Thank god for that," she briefly rested her head against mine. My eyes started to feel hot again.

"Yeah," I mumbled and sniffed. "Aaron?"

"He lost his job a while back. He didn't tell you?"

"Mm-mm," I shook my head against Kat.

"Marc's still recovering so I hired Aaron to help."

"Who's he with?"

"Aaron started hanging around that guy a couple weeks ago," Kat stopped and shuffled. We pulled apart and she dug into her pockets, "Aaron's coming over. Here, if you need to talk more," she scribbled an address on the back of a business card and handed it to me.

Aaron walked up to the booth.

"Hey," he said.

"I gotta get back to work. I'll get you a Mint Seltzer," Kat stood up, talking to Aaron, "don't forget you're still on the clock." She shot me a sympathetic smile, another glance at Aaron as he watched her leave, and she was gone.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Mm-mm," I mumbled with a weak shake of my head. My eyes dropped to avoid looking at him.

"I didn't think you were coming back," Aaron offered, "I am so sorry I hit you. It's unforgivable. And whatever you deem necessary to happen, now, I will abide."

My mind felt fuzzy. I took a couple of breaths but my mouth wouldn't cooperate with forming words. If I grunted, the sound was masked by the noise of the club. After forever, words were finally heaved from my mouth, "Becky was in an accident."

Aaron flinched backwards, wide-eyed, "What? Is she okay? Christ. How?"

"Marcus Hughes," I said, "had a truck hit her car."

"Who's that?"

"He owns the warehouses where you said you and Bo went." I could see Aaron working it out in his mind so I continued, "I went to talk to him about that incident. I took Becky's car and used his parking garage. I think Mr. Hughes was trying to kill me. I'm so stupid. It's my fault. If I wasn't using her car so much, she wouldn't be in the hospital." I could feel the tears flowing freely and I reached for some napkins to blow my nose and wipe my eyes.

"Don't think that," Aaron consoled. He kept his hands under the table but all I wanted to do was jump across the table and -

• and what? Hold him? Kiss him? Scream at him? Hit him back? My stomach churned, acidly.

"Nothing is your fault, Cade. Nothing. Becky's okay, right? I mean, she's alive?"

"Yeah," I sniffed.

"You aren't responsible for the bad things that people do in the world - or for who they hurt. Just stay by those they hurt and be your sweet self, okay?"

"Okay..."

The music still blazed away. Kat hadn't come back, yet. The smoky air was getting to my runny nose.

"I think," I heard Aaron say, "I think he was looking for something."

From the distant look in his eyes, I knew Aaron was talking about Bo.

"In the warehouse?"

"Yeah."

"Aaron?"

"Yeah?"

My nerves lit on fire again and I felt my heart race back up, "Who was that? Who you were dancing with?"

"Who? Ezio? What about him?"

"What?" I tried to piece my thoughts together, "What is he?"

The lightbulb clicked on in Aaron's brain, "Oh. Ezio's just a friend. He hangs around the club during my shift so I'll have someone to talk to. He's really cool, you'd like him."

"Okay," I conceded, not all too convinced about either his assessment of Ezio or the mustelan's likability. "I need to go."

"Okay, sure," Aaron assented. I hid my disappointment.

He stayed seated in the booth as I walked away. Bruise was still at the door and I offered a quick, weak smile and left before he could say anything.

The picture of Aaron on the dance floor with Ezio followed me home. My mind froze time and the image burned its way into me.

Aaron looked happy.