The bar looked like midnight, or maybe 2 a.m. at last call, it was so dark. The mirrors against the wall were stained in permanent fog and nicotine, even though smoking had been banned for the last ten years. The speeded-out bartender came out from her perch and wobbled her head toward Ginger as if to sexily say “what would you like?” But nothing came from her mouth, only a jaw grinding smile as she loosely placed her arms on the cooler.
“Can I get a Jack n’ Coke please?” Ginger asked her in response. The bartender nodded, her jet black hair forward with yes and back with of course. She ambled to the bottles behind her and served the drink. Ginger left a five in front of her. She hadn’t had a jack and coke in a long time. She could feel her nerve endings begging to come out of her skin, a slight twitch in her eye that always gave way to her anxiety and a tightness in her chest.
As the swinging doors creaked open and Jerry sauntered in, light followed him, unwelcome into the dim-lit bar. It betrayed the sense that it wasn’t too early to drink when the light came in all ugly like that. The door behind him shut and he smiled at her calculating his next move.
“Desiree – we need two shots over here.” He said as he sat down by Ginger. He leaned on the bar exposing his drunkenness. He looked at Ginger, as she stared at him he smiled.
“They always come back.”
The drinks appeared and he handed a shot glass to Ginger. “To you.” He tipped the glass and spilled a droplet on her jeans, mocked an apology and downed his drink.
“Well, come on Angel, don’t hold back on me now.” Ginger lifted the shot glass never moving her eyes from his and swallowed whole. It burned down her throat.
“I was once a block from your house, you know. Shot gun in hand, beer on the passenger seat. I watched you come out of your door, off that nice front porch. You gained some weight for a while there.” He laughed hoping to get in his first stab. “But you walked without even noticing me, never looking back. I use to follow you when we were together, you never stopped looking over that shoulder of yours. Never once. For a minute, I thought you’d gotten soft, but then I figured, maybe you were finally happy.” He pushed his shot glass to the tray in front of the bar, Desiree filled it again.
“Wasn’t right what you did Ginger.” He said, grimaced and swallowed the shot.
“I know.” She said softly. “But I’m not sorry Jerry.” She took a sip of her drink.
“Never thought you were. Thought I’d make you sorry though, sure, I thought I would.” He laughed remorsefully.
“Jerry, I was sorry then, you never had to add to it.” She confessed. He’d made her a very sorry woman, embarrassed in her own skin. He’d painted her up as crazy, torn her down as a whore, and beat the spirit right out of her. She knew how it felt to be sorry. She just wasn’t apologetic when it came to what she’d done to him at the end.
“You were just a good-time girl, Ginger. A ‘fuck-it’ girl. I fixed all that for you and what did you do?” He looked at her to see if he was penetrating the broken soul she’d been but there was no reaction. “Well, it’s all water under a burned bridge now. Game of pool?”
“Sure.” She said, she grabbed her drink and purse and walked to the end of the bar. Grabbed a stick and waited for him to put the quarters in and rack the balls.
“So, what’d you do?”
“I started over Jerry.” She said as she chalked the cue.
“Got any kids?” He asked.
“No, you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” He slammed the ball down the center and broke up the set – solid in, he continued the game. “You married or engaged yet or are you still just having a good time?”
“Best as ever and no, neither, the water’s too polluted with germs.” She quoted the Sublime song.
He slopped, she took her turn, nothing in the pockets.
“You ever see Tiny?” He asked, referring to his once best friend, the one who betrayed him for her.
“No. I think he’s in jail.” She knew he was.
“That’s too bad. I spent some time down south, didn’t know what happened to him, but I guess that’s karma for you.” He shot another into the pocket.
She looked around, wondering if she should make an excuse to leave. Jerry continued to hit ball in after ball down the pockets with ease, right down to the eight ball. No one else was in the bar, the bartender was sleeping, chin to chest on a barstool behind the bar. It was just them in their empty old haunt.
“You still smoke?” He asked after winning the game.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go out back and have a drag.” She agreed, got her lighter and cigarettes out of her purse. He opened the back door, ushered her ahead of him.
In the dirt alley behind the bar, there were no cars, it was too early for patrons. Ginger leaned against the dumpster as she lit her cigarette. Jerry stared at her red hair, fair skin and beautiful figure in a pair of jeans and tight tank top. She looked up at him after exhaling and remembered how much fun he use to be. So unlike what anyone would have thought, they use to play catch at midnight or color in coloring books like children when she was with him. He’d always have a fun plan up his sleeve to entertain her. Unfortunately, his charms extended far beyond their intimate moments and wide across the parish. And she, well, she was full of fury then, a wild mare, no one was going to tame her or stop her, until he did.
They enjoyed the silence half finishing their cigarettes.
“It’s almost a shame you came back.” He said coming a little closer and touching the hair on her forehead. She pressed herself further back into the dumpster, intimidated and welcoming at the same time.
“Why is that?” She said, taking another drag of her cigarette, she blew the smoke out of the side of her mouth.
“Because, I owe you one Ginger. And I don’t forget a grudge.” He knifed her in the side of her stomach. She dropped her cigarette to grab her side and hold the wound down. Kicking at him, he tripped her feet and she landed on the ground, flat on her ass. She muscled herself to stand but he kicked her in the chest, the ribs and the face. She felt her cheek against the rocks embedded in the dirt as contemplated her futile escape.
“I’d rather just keep missing you Ginger. “
She wouldn’t go down with her hands in front of her face showing weakness, she tried to lift herself up and exposing her body, he used the opportunity like a boxer on point, stabbing her numerous times.
She made no sounds for help, just sucking air, while trying to grab onto the metal dumpster for support when he'd come to a halt. The sun made him squint in a handsome kind of way. She looked pretty when dying.
He placed the knife in his pocket and walked down the alley to the side road and got into his truck. She heard him drive off without urgency, his gears shifting along the road.
She told herself if she just rested for a minute, she could get up and maybe crawl into the bar, get to the payphone. If she just rested.
“Can I get a Jack n’ Coke please?” Ginger asked her in response. The bartender nodded, her jet black hair forward with yes and back with of course. She ambled to the bottles behind her and served the drink. Ginger left a five in front of her. She hadn’t had a jack and coke in a long time. She could feel her nerve endings begging to come out of her skin, a slight twitch in her eye that always gave way to her anxiety and a tightness in her chest.
As the swinging doors creaked open and Jerry sauntered in, light followed him, unwelcome into the dim-lit bar. It betrayed the sense that it wasn’t too early to drink when the light came in all ugly like that. The door behind him shut and he smiled at her calculating his next move.
“Desiree – we need two shots over here.” He said as he sat down by Ginger. He leaned on the bar exposing his drunkenness. He looked at Ginger, as she stared at him he smiled.
“They always come back.”
The drinks appeared and he handed a shot glass to Ginger. “To you.” He tipped the glass and spilled a droplet on her jeans, mocked an apology and downed his drink.
“Well, come on Angel, don’t hold back on me now.” Ginger lifted the shot glass never moving her eyes from his and swallowed whole. It burned down her throat.
“I was once a block from your house, you know. Shot gun in hand, beer on the passenger seat. I watched you come out of your door, off that nice front porch. You gained some weight for a while there.” He laughed hoping to get in his first stab. “But you walked without even noticing me, never looking back. I use to follow you when we were together, you never stopped looking over that shoulder of yours. Never once. For a minute, I thought you’d gotten soft, but then I figured, maybe you were finally happy.” He pushed his shot glass to the tray in front of the bar, Desiree filled it again.
“Wasn’t right what you did Ginger.” He said, grimaced and swallowed the shot.
“I know.” She said softly. “But I’m not sorry Jerry.” She took a sip of her drink.
“Never thought you were. Thought I’d make you sorry though, sure, I thought I would.” He laughed remorsefully.
“Jerry, I was sorry then, you never had to add to it.” She confessed. He’d made her a very sorry woman, embarrassed in her own skin. He’d painted her up as crazy, torn her down as a whore, and beat the spirit right out of her. She knew how it felt to be sorry. She just wasn’t apologetic when it came to what she’d done to him at the end.
“You were just a good-time girl, Ginger. A ‘fuck-it’ girl. I fixed all that for you and what did you do?” He looked at her to see if he was penetrating the broken soul she’d been but there was no reaction. “Well, it’s all water under a burned bridge now. Game of pool?”
“Sure.” She said, she grabbed her drink and purse and walked to the end of the bar. Grabbed a stick and waited for him to put the quarters in and rack the balls.
“So, what’d you do?”
“I started over Jerry.” She said as she chalked the cue.
“Got any kids?” He asked.
“No, you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” He slammed the ball down the center and broke up the set – solid in, he continued the game. “You married or engaged yet or are you still just having a good time?”
“Best as ever and no, neither, the water’s too polluted with germs.” She quoted the Sublime song.
He slopped, she took her turn, nothing in the pockets.
“You ever see Tiny?” He asked, referring to his once best friend, the one who betrayed him for her.
“No. I think he’s in jail.” She knew he was.
“That’s too bad. I spent some time down south, didn’t know what happened to him, but I guess that’s karma for you.” He shot another into the pocket.
She looked around, wondering if she should make an excuse to leave. Jerry continued to hit ball in after ball down the pockets with ease, right down to the eight ball. No one else was in the bar, the bartender was sleeping, chin to chest on a barstool behind the bar. It was just them in their empty old haunt.
“You still smoke?” He asked after winning the game.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go out back and have a drag.” She agreed, got her lighter and cigarettes out of her purse. He opened the back door, ushered her ahead of him.
In the dirt alley behind the bar, there were no cars, it was too early for patrons. Ginger leaned against the dumpster as she lit her cigarette. Jerry stared at her red hair, fair skin and beautiful figure in a pair of jeans and tight tank top. She looked up at him after exhaling and remembered how much fun he use to be. So unlike what anyone would have thought, they use to play catch at midnight or color in coloring books like children when she was with him. He’d always have a fun plan up his sleeve to entertain her. Unfortunately, his charms extended far beyond their intimate moments and wide across the parish. And she, well, she was full of fury then, a wild mare, no one was going to tame her or stop her, until he did.
They enjoyed the silence half finishing their cigarettes.
“It’s almost a shame you came back.” He said coming a little closer and touching the hair on her forehead. She pressed herself further back into the dumpster, intimidated and welcoming at the same time.
“Why is that?” She said, taking another drag of her cigarette, she blew the smoke out of the side of her mouth.
“Because, I owe you one Ginger. And I don’t forget a grudge.” He knifed her in the side of her stomach. She dropped her cigarette to grab her side and hold the wound down. Kicking at him, he tripped her feet and she landed on the ground, flat on her ass. She muscled herself to stand but he kicked her in the chest, the ribs and the face. She felt her cheek against the rocks embedded in the dirt as contemplated her futile escape.
“I’d rather just keep missing you Ginger. “
She wouldn’t go down with her hands in front of her face showing weakness, she tried to lift herself up and exposing her body, he used the opportunity like a boxer on point, stabbing her numerous times.
She made no sounds for help, just sucking air, while trying to grab onto the metal dumpster for support when he'd come to a halt. The sun made him squint in a handsome kind of way. She looked pretty when dying.
He placed the knife in his pocket and walked down the alley to the side road and got into his truck. She heard him drive off without urgency, his gears shifting along the road.
She told herself if she just rested for a minute, she could get up and maybe crawl into the bar, get to the payphone. If she just rested.
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