never gave it much credence, though, firstly because it was Ronny talking, and also because I reckoned if there was a stiff under the floor, it would’ve stunk something mighty. You know what I mean?”
“Uh-huh.” Bruce nodded, thinking the mysterious cocktail shaker was more likely the big secret. Though why, he couldn’t fathom.
Cecil clapped his hands together. “Now, would you like to look at some old photos? I dug up the albums after you called.”
Bruce replied that he would very much like to see them, and they spent another idle hour looking at black-and-white photographs. He was especially taken by one picture showing three men and a goat standing on the street in front of the Blue Parrot.
“That’s Ronny and Alvin, the bartender,” Cecil explained, pointing at the two older men in the photo.
Ronny was paunchy and bald, Alvin thin as a rake. Between them stood a younger man, straw hat tilted at a jaunty angle and smiling widely.
“Is that you?” asked Bruce, trying to see the man from the photo under Cecil’s wizened face.
“It sure is,” Cecil replied, showing no remorse over his lost youth. “This picture was taken after Claude won a race against Garry’s poodle. Garry Fowler owned Fowler’s Flowers, down the street. It’s long gone too.”
“Claude is the goat?” Bruce asked.
Cecil nodded. “Handsome fellow, isn’t he? Funny how I still recall his name when I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday. What day’s today?”
“Thursday.”
“Ah. Then it was meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
In the end, Cecil gave every photo taken inside or outside the Blue Parrot to Bruce, saying he had nobody to leave them to and would rather give them to someone who’d appreciate them.
“You must come and see the bar once we’re done renovating,” Bruce said in parting.
Cecil’s wrinkles wound into a cheerful grin. “I certainly will. It would be lovely to see the old place back in its glory before I die.”
Bruce returned home with a warm and fuzzy sense of accomplishment. After a quick dinner, he spent the evening watching Netflix, starting with a documentary on mixology, and ending up with old episodes of Arrested Development . He went to bed early. He had big plans.
Teag was having a lousy time. The night had started well enough. They’d had pleasant, if substance-free, small talk in the car. Things started to go downhill as Leo pulled into The Grove. Teag had liked and frequented the place back when it was just a farmers’ market but had been back only once since they attached a shiny new mall to it. He hated malls.
Still, there were bound to be a few decent restaurants there, so Teag brushed his dislike aside. Alas, Leo’s pick of eatery was not one of them. The cuisine was “Thai Fusion”, where fusion stood for the eradication of flavor. However, the dishes made up in prices what they lacked in spices. The overwhelming hipness of the place was the cherry on top. The red walls with golden lotus pattern were bad enough, but the six-foot-tall golden and bejeweled Buddha statue was definite overkill. Even if it was supposed to be ironic.
“How did you find this place?” Teag asked, poking at the ground hamburger meat mislabeled as larb on his plate.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Leo gushed. “Kandy Hart was photographed coming out of here just last week.”
“Who?”
“Kandy Hart. She was on Celebrity Ranch .”
Celebrity Ranch rang a bell with Teag—somewhere off in the far distance, maybe Kansas. “Was it a reality show or something?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t you watch TV?”
Not garbage was on the tip of Teag’s tongue, but he said instead, “Been busy. Are you suggesting that if we’re lucky, we can end up playing extras on TMZ?” His sarcasm whizzed past Leo without as much as making a scratch.
Leo beamed proudly, at least till his phone chimed. He’d placed it next to his plate the moment they’d sat down—perhaps expecting a
“Uh-huh.” Bruce nodded, thinking the mysterious cocktail shaker was more likely the big secret. Though why, he couldn’t fathom.
Cecil clapped his hands together. “Now, would you like to look at some old photos? I dug up the albums after you called.”
Bruce replied that he would very much like to see them, and they spent another idle hour looking at black-and-white photographs. He was especially taken by one picture showing three men and a goat standing on the street in front of the Blue Parrot.
“That’s Ronny and Alvin, the bartender,” Cecil explained, pointing at the two older men in the photo.
Ronny was paunchy and bald, Alvin thin as a rake. Between them stood a younger man, straw hat tilted at a jaunty angle and smiling widely.
“Is that you?” asked Bruce, trying to see the man from the photo under Cecil’s wizened face.
“It sure is,” Cecil replied, showing no remorse over his lost youth. “This picture was taken after Claude won a race against Garry’s poodle. Garry Fowler owned Fowler’s Flowers, down the street. It’s long gone too.”
“Claude is the goat?” Bruce asked.
Cecil nodded. “Handsome fellow, isn’t he? Funny how I still recall his name when I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday. What day’s today?”
“Thursday.”
“Ah. Then it was meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
In the end, Cecil gave every photo taken inside or outside the Blue Parrot to Bruce, saying he had nobody to leave them to and would rather give them to someone who’d appreciate them.
“You must come and see the bar once we’re done renovating,” Bruce said in parting.
Cecil’s wrinkles wound into a cheerful grin. “I certainly will. It would be lovely to see the old place back in its glory before I die.”
Bruce returned home with a warm and fuzzy sense of accomplishment. After a quick dinner, he spent the evening watching Netflix, starting with a documentary on mixology, and ending up with old episodes of Arrested Development . He went to bed early. He had big plans.
Teag was having a lousy time. The night had started well enough. They’d had pleasant, if substance-free, small talk in the car. Things started to go downhill as Leo pulled into The Grove. Teag had liked and frequented the place back when it was just a farmers’ market but had been back only once since they attached a shiny new mall to it. He hated malls.
Still, there were bound to be a few decent restaurants there, so Teag brushed his dislike aside. Alas, Leo’s pick of eatery was not one of them. The cuisine was “Thai Fusion”, where fusion stood for the eradication of flavor. However, the dishes made up in prices what they lacked in spices. The overwhelming hipness of the place was the cherry on top. The red walls with golden lotus pattern were bad enough, but the six-foot-tall golden and bejeweled Buddha statue was definite overkill. Even if it was supposed to be ironic.
“How did you find this place?” Teag asked, poking at the ground hamburger meat mislabeled as larb on his plate.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Leo gushed. “Kandy Hart was photographed coming out of here just last week.”
“Who?”
“Kandy Hart. She was on Celebrity Ranch .”
Celebrity Ranch rang a bell with Teag—somewhere off in the far distance, maybe Kansas. “Was it a reality show or something?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t you watch TV?”
Not garbage was on the tip of Teag’s tongue, but he said instead, “Been busy. Are you suggesting that if we’re lucky, we can end up playing extras on TMZ?” His sarcasm whizzed past Leo without as much as making a scratch.
Leo beamed proudly, at least till his phone chimed. He’d placed it next to his plate the moment they’d sat down—perhaps expecting a
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