at 1am. Where in this godforsaken place did they come from?
«’Nuther lemonade, honey?» the barman raised his voice over the din, softening it with a barely detectable smile.
«Yeah, if that’s okay.»
«How I do know if it’s okay fer you or not? I’m not yer doctor.»
«Okay, okay. Just a lemonade, please, and, if it’s o – I mean, can I get a cold one, like, with ice?»
«Only way they come!» he chuckled.
Once again, I got a «cold» lemonade.
«Sorry sir, but can I get some ice?»
«Sure thing, comin’ right up!»
I dropped four ice cubes into the glass and began thinking about the car and how I was going to get to Los Angeles. A sudden fear gripped me that I’d get into some kind of trouble on the way.
«Nick, whiskey!» shouted David Ogden next to me.
«Yer killin’ yerself, son.»
«Already did, so come on you old geezer, get that whiskey over here. That’s what I pay you for. Need me to do a striptease on top of that?»
«Mi casa es su casa. Do whatever you want.»
David yawned and looked at me.
«There are ladies present. I’ll do one for you next time. Thanks, you old bastard,» he added when he finally got his glass.
He rolled up the sleeves of his frayed sweatshirt and looked at me again.
«Sorry ‘bout that.»
I was silent; I hadn’t heard him and was staring at the wooden carving of a Native American Indian girl by the bar.
«Hmmmm… ‘scuse me?»
David waited for a moment.
«Girl, are you deaf?» he shouted in my ear.
«Oh! Sorry?»
«What were you thinking about?»
«Um… stuff.»
«’Bout your boyfriend?»
«No.»
«Really? You’re not even thinking about all that stupid romantic shit and your, like, dates together?
«I don’t have a boyfriend.»
David Ogden’s look expressed surprise. He yawned again and looked at me. That is, at my hands, which firmly held my glass of lemonade.
«You have funny fingers.»
«Why do you say that?» I asked, my face lighting up with a smile.
«They’re like a child’s! Do you play the piano?»
«Yep.»
«Ha! Knew it!»
He went back to his whiskey and, several minutes later, exclaimed:
«Seriously?»
«Seriously… what?»
«You don’t have a boyfriend?»
«Do you think I’d lie?» I grumbled, studying the dancing bubbles in the liquid behind the clear glass.
«Hm. No shit! So how old are you?»
«What would you say?»
«Sixty-five.» He smiled the stupid smile of a drunk macho man. «You’re not offended or anything, are you?»
«No, not at all!»
«Well, that’s good. These days, seems like everyone I meet is humorless.»
«Somehow I’m not surprised.»
David lowered his head onto the bar and closed his eyes. I looked sideways at him, and the thought that a hole in his sweatshirt reminded me of a quasar made me smile. However, in five minutes he screamed at the top of his lungs:
«TWENTY!» and slammed his glass down on the table.
«David, please trah to pull yerself together,» Nick whispered.
«You’re twenty! Right?» he went on, ignoring Nick and my own fit of coughing.
«M-hm.» I nodded.
«What do you mean ‘m-hm’? Don’t tell me you’re offended.»
«Nope! Just trying to enjoy the moment.»
«Enjoy? The moment? In this shithole? Are you insane?»
I got up, took my glass and went to my room. His eyes followed me. And no, he wasn’t drunk: his gaze was sober. For some reason, I suddenly recalled the moment when David Ogden fell down and left the bar. There was something about the stern look in his light-brown eyes.
I guess I fell asleep in the easy chair without noticing. But that didn’t last long: wild shouts, cursing and a tremendous crash shook the floorboards beneath me.
«Christ! What else could be happening down there?» I whispered, leaving my room and crouching on the staircase. That was when I noticed a group of adult men beating up a young guy who lay on the floor.
It was David Ogden. They seized him by the sweatshirt and threw him onto the dance floor, shattering the vase. It seemed that at any moment a perfectly imperturbable sheriff with his loyal sidekick would arrive, but just then Nick bolted out of the bathroom, buttoning up his pants.
«What the hell is going on here? Are you outta yer minds? Idiots! A bunch of you old farts decided to beat up a boy? Goddammit, what the hell happened?!»
«This punk here is a thieving bastard!»
«I was trying to leave my money on the table, not steal it, you idiot! Why the hell would I want to steal my own money?»
«What were you doin’ touchin’ mah money?»
«Look, douchebag, I didn’t touch your money! It was my goddamn money!» yelled David and took another hit in the face.
«You’d better quiet down this minute, before I take out the lot of you!» Nick aimed a hunting rifle at them. «Now go home, you miserable drunks, or else my dog’ll have your tongues for breakfast!»
The entire crowd dispersed and only David and Nick remained. I slowly descended and froze at the sight of them.
«My apologies fer the ruckus. Ah believe we may have woken you?» Nick inquired politely.
«I wasn’t asleep.»
He went over to David and helped him up.
«You’d better sit down and tilt your head back. You’re bleeding.» I said, pointing to
