Waldo said, “She’s got the camera right here.” He took a dark thick glasses case out of Suzan’s fabric bag. “I had a hole cut for the lens–takes digital pictures–we’ll get everything and nobody will notice.”
Singleton said, “I hope it’s not too valuable.”
“The publisher will pay.” Waldo answered. “Now let’s head over to the Brass Helmut and see if we can stir something up.”
“This will be exciting,” Suzan said, and she took Walling’s arm.
But the Brass Helmut was not exciting. It was nearly vacant–a smallish brown rectangle with a bar along the outside edge and only two very elderly fellows on stools near the door. The bartender was a young Latino woman who seemed to recognize Ralph.
“This place smells terrible,” Suzan said, loud enough.
“Maybe we’re too early,” Walling said.
“Look, I can get something going, “Singleton said. “I know I can. If that’s what you want.”
Waldo answered: “It’s not what we want –it’s what the venue offers. Don’t you get it? We’re here just to evaluate what the ambience is.”
“Ambience?” Ralph said.
“How fast we get into combat,” Walling said.
“The smell is just awful,” Suzan said. “Has someone thrown up? I don’t think we should stay here.”
“We’ve got to wait the nine minutes,” Singleton said, “to make the experiment valid.”
“Fuck validity,” Waldo shouted. “We’re outta here!”
They went out back onto Main Street, past the Beacon pharmacy and on toward some Irish bars further south.
“I really couldn’t drink in there. I really couldn’t” Suzan said. “I know the experiment won’t be valid, and I’m sorry, really sorry about that, but I just couldn’t stay there a minute longer. The smell was ghastly, just ghastly.”
“No worries, pet, “Waldo answered.” The place didn’t measure up. That was clear from the minute we entered.”
“We didn’t give it enough time,” Singleton said. “We need to stick to the plan.”
“Shut up,” Waldo said. “I’m running this operation.”
“And I can’t really do much walking. It’s too cold. I should have brought a heavier coat,” Suzan said. “I’m sorry but I can’t really walk much more.”
“No worries, pet.” Waldo said. “We’ll go back to the garage and get the van. I’ve got the best place in mind.”
“It’s got to have people in it. We’re too early,” Walling said.
“Maybe,” Waldo conceded, “but that can’t be helped now. We’re launched. Let’s get the van.”
“We’re not thinking clearly,” Singleton said. “If we need the van we’re going beyond the periphery of our experiment. You can’t drive to the toughest bar–that means it could be anyplace. We’re trying to establish the toughest bar in Worcester, a specific place.”
“Yes,” Suzan said slowly, “a very specific place. With boundaries of possibility.”
“Nonsense,” Waldo said. “Within the city limits, just too damn far to walk. The van will be okay.”
“I don’t think so,” Singleton insisted.
“You’re not being paid to think.”
“Are we being paid?” Ralph said.
“One way or another,” Waldo said, “now tell him to shut up.” Waldo pointed to Singleton, who had taken off his heavy glasses and was rubbing the sides of his nose.
Waldo drove them in the van up Belmont Street to the very edge of Worcester’s limits. Then he turned left, went up another hill and parked behind a large house, the first floor of which was labelled, ‘Bronzino’s Bar.’”
“I’ve heard of this place,” Walling said.
“It’s too close to the outskirts, “Singleton said.
“Ralph, tell him to shut up.” Waldo said.
Suzan said, “I feel nauseous. Let’s stay outside a while, in the cold. That helps. “
”Maybe we should have walked here,” Singleton said.
“Walling, where did you find this clown?” Waldo asked.
“How can we measure hostility out there,” Walling pointed to Bronzino’s, “if we’re coming at each other here?”
“We don’t need internal antagonism,” Suzan, “we certainly don’t need that.”
“We need a goddamn challenge, so let’s go get one,” Waldo said, pushing ahead of the group.
3.
Inside Bronzino’s, dirty green wall-to-wall carpet gave way to grey linoleum in the expanse of space that must have been living room, dining, room kitchen shotgunned together. There were five round, heavily varnished walnut tables with thick heavily varnished chairs in the space. Three of the tables were filled with patrons–overweight women and men, pitchers of beer, smudged glasses, peanut bowls half empty, shells littering the table tops.
“This could be a Knights of Columbus Bingo party,” Waldo said quietly, disappointed.
“I’ll get us a pitcher of beer, “Singleton said, as if in expiation. “Sit here.” He pulled out a hefty dark chair for Suzan.
“This seems like a family bar,” Waldo said, sitting down and apparently irritated that Singleton had taken charge of the next minutes.
“I wonder if there’s such a thing as a family bar?” Walling said.
“In London, at the better pubs, you can sit with your family,” Suzan said. “Sometimes it so nice to sit with your children in the back garden area of the pub or in a side room away from the noise.”
“You have children?” Ralph asked.
“No,” Waldo answered. “Only staffers.”
“I went with my father to pubs in Highgate and Hampstead. They were lovely.” Suzan continued.
“I’m looking at these people and I can’t see hostility at all. In fact I’m wondering why I was given the name of this place. It’s like a low class, lunch pail bridge convention or something. Strictly lunch pail. And now we have to wait through a pitcher of beer. Probably crappy beer too.”
Singleton came back with the beer and six small glasses. He poured a round and said, “Here’s to the memory of the Valhalla. Maybe Worcester no
