As the digital numbers on the alarm clock reached 12:00pm the irritating buzzer screamed to wake its owner. A hand slammed down next to the clock, shaking the particle board night stand. Fingers reached around to find the button and silence the terrible noise. The hand found the clock, fiddling to find the snooze button. A voice groans from under the covers “oh come on!” The hand grasped the clock in its entirety and threw it across the room, power cord trailing behind it. However, the backup battery increased the longevity of the shrieking buzz. Eric pulled the covers from his face, squinting at the light. The previous night’s drinking was not kind to him today. He slinked out of bed; head pounding he staggered to the clock. He hit the snooze button, but the toss jarred something inside and it didn’t work. Ripping out the battery he finally silenced his worst enemy and dropped its silent plastic corpse back onto the floor.
Eric Barlow was twenty five years of age, average height and build with dark, short auburn hair and green eyes. A lazy man’s weekend grown stubble decorated his face. Eric’s room was littered with various dust covered movie memorabilia filling the particle board book shelves. The walls were decorated with ticket stubs, flyers and photos from every concert, road trip, or other noteworthy vacations he has been on. His apartment was small, but it was cheap, and he was rarely there except to use the bed, microwave or bathroom. He checked his phone, two voicemails. The first was from a telemarketer, the second from his old high school friend Tom Strausser. It was the standard “what are you doing today?” message and wanting to grab lunch and hang out. That would be a good idea if Eric’s head wasn’t pounding from too many drinks. Still, he needed something in his stomach. Eric downed some headache medicine, brushed his teeth, deodorized himself, threw on some boots and headed out the door. He always slept in his cloths, it was easier to just get up and go. That day’s fashion was a pair of jeans and an overly wrinkled t-shirt.
The inner city was dense and overgrown. Eric’s old clunker of a jeep rarely got any use. Almost everything he needed was in walking distance. Calling Tom back, they were to meet at Gardello’s. It was the best pizza in town. It was only a ten minute walk from Eric’s apartment, he got there before Tom. He grabbed a booth facing the waitress station so he could enjoy the view. There was one waitress in particular Eric had a crush on. Her name was Chelsea. Chelsea was a couple inches shorter than Eric, her hair dyed black to match her nail polish and lipstick. Eric had a thing for goth girls, especially ones with an hourglass figure such as Chelsea’s. Luckily she was working today. Eric held his breath a bit and smiled as she came to his booth holding a menu and silverware. “Eating alone today?” her voice was soft and kind. Eric finally exhaled as he spoke “I wouldn’t be alone if you sat down and ate with me.” Chelsea smiled at the cheesiness “Not while on the clock.” Eric asked, even though he knew the answer “what about when you’re off the clock?” Chelsea’s smile disappeared “You know my boyfriend doesn’t like me hanging out with guys”. It was the same answer every time he asked her, but Eric asked anyway in hopes her response would be different. “You gotta tell dude to lighten up sometime. Anyway, I’m meeting Tom, he should be here soon.” Chelsea thought for a moment. “Which one was Tom again?” Eric laughed “You won’t miss him, tall lanky bastard. Probably going to knock something over on his way in.” Indeed, there was a clang of metal as Tom walked in, bumping into the specials sign knocking it over. After setting it back up and a few apologies he headed toward the booth. Tom was indeed tall. He stood six foot seven but was very thin. He looked a bit awkward, almost out of proportion with his body, but not ugly by any standards. Tom wore a suit that was a bit too large for his frame. As he sat down Chelsea handed him a menu. “Eric was just telling me you were clumsy”. Tom reached over the table and punched Eric in the shoulder. “Did the idiot tell you I saved his life too?” Chelsea turned, glaring at Eric. “No, why don’t you tell me?” She sat down next to Eric. “Hey, what about not sitting down while on the clock?” Eric protested. “Shut up, story time doesn’t count.” Tom smiled at Chelsea and began telling the tale.
“We went camping in the mountains about three years ago. Eric gets the bright idea we should go climbing to get to a higher point. We didn’t have any gear whatsoever, it was a horrible, unsafe idea.” Eric interrupted “It’s less fun if it’s safe”. Chelsea shushed him and let Tom continue. “Anyway, unsafe, bad idea. Somehow Eric convinced me to follow him up there. I forgot how long it took us, but we reached a big flat spot and a cave.” Eric interrupted again “Wait a minute, I remember that, I saved you’re life first!” Tom dismissed him “details, let me tell the story”. “So, we find this cave, and at the very back of it we see light, so it’s more of a tunnel. Anyway, we go through to see where it leads. Then the light at the end, just vanishes! Swear to god, a bear had been laying down in the cave and we woke it up.”
Chelsea gasped. Jokingly Eric added in “It’s ok, I was courageous.” Tom shook his head “This idiot here had the brilliant plan to scare the bear away.” Eric interjected “It worked didn’t it?” Tom continued. “As it got up we saw a few cubs, well momma bear is NOT happy and starts towards us. Eric jumped in front waving his arms all crazy yelling at the bear. It ignored him at first, maybe because I’m taller? I dunno, but it was coming at me.” Eric chimed in again “and that’s when I saved your life!” Chelsea elbowed Eric in the ribs as a sign to be quiet. Tom went on “Yes, Eric finally got the mama bear’s attention by running past it and grabbing one of its cubs. He hugged onto one of the things yelling ‘I’m gunna eat your baby!’ The yelling scared the cubs so they started making noise, which made the big bear turn to Eric.” Chelsea, totally involved in the story now was wide eyed looking at Eric, who had a giant grin on his face. Tom continued the story. “Well, the bear is going crazy, Eric is yelling at me to get out, the cubs are whining, finally I head back down for help. Not two seconds after I reach the bottom do I see Eric jump off of the cliff near the cave, the bear swiping at him in midair!” Chelsea scowled at Eric. “You jumped off with a baby bear?” Eric defended himself “I put the bear down before jumping. It was too heavy to take with me.” Tom kept on with the tale. “Before you let Eric take all the glory, remember, the original point of this was me saving his life. Anyway, Eric comes tumbling down, bouncing off every rock until his leg gets wedged in this big crack. He was hanging upside down, and the bear is starting to make its way down the cliff.” Eric laughed “It was not happy about me wanting to eat its babies.” Tom went on. “I climbed back up quick as I could and helped him get his leg unstuck, had to practically carry him down. Luckily I guess the bear felt it got us far enough away and climbed back up to its cubs.” Eric chimed in “Broke my ankle bone, the jolt to my leg ripped up my knee pretty bad to where I needed physical therapy, oh and broke my arm”. Chelsea hugged Eric and Tom. For a few brief seconds, Eric was in heaven. “I’m glad you boys aren’t dead. Hell, if it wasn’t for Eric always sitting in my spot I don’t think I would get any good tips!” They shared a quick laugh before more customers sat in Chelsea’s section. “ugh, I have to do work. Order quick, I’ve been over here too long.” Eric ordered his usual, a slice of mushroom and sausage. Tom got two meat lover slices, both ordered water to drink.
After Chelsea left to tend to the other customers, Eric gave Tom a perplexed look. “I just noticed, what’s with the suit?” Tom smirked “Oh, I had an interview today and landed the job, assistance for this lawyer”. With an unchanging expression Eric questioned “You mean a secretary?” “No! Not a secretary, a legal assistant, I would be involved in cases, more than an intern could ask for.” Tom replied in protest. Eric fiddled with the parmesan cheese shaker on the table while he spoke. “So you will be a volunteer secretary?” Tom became irritated “It’s going to give me a huge advantage in my classes; I thought you would show some excitement for me.” Eric sat down the parmesan cheese; he cleared his throat and spoke loudly in a joking manner. “Oh yes, everyone, my good friend Tom here just landed a nonpaying job, so now not only does he have student loans up the ass, he has even less free time than before!” Eric clapped until he saw Tom’s expression grew from irritation to anger. “What man? It’s a joke.” Tom, letting go of the anger a bit responded “Well, don’t joke about people’s dreams. You know I’ve been busting my ass to become a lawyer.” Eric went back to playing with the parmesan cheese shaker. “Don’t know why, being shoved into a suit, bickering in a stuffy court house all day. Where’s the excitement in that? You used to be adventurous, when did you become an adult all of a sudden?” Tom spoke his next words without thinking. “I just want to do good, put the bad guys behind bars, like the guy that got your sister.” Eric stopped playing with the cheese shaker and got up to leave. “Eric wait, I forgot man, I’m sorry.” Eric shook his head. “I told you never to talk about that.” He stormed out, even ignoring Chelsea on his way. Concerned, she went to Tom. “What’s wrong with Eric?” He stared down at the cheese shaker Eric was playing with. “A long time ago, Eric’s sister was murdered. He never got over it. The guy who did it never went to jail; he’s still out there somewhere.
Eric turned the opposite direction of his apartment to walk a few blocks. He hated that hearing about his sister still struck such a strong cord within him. He was sixteen at the time, his sister Amber was only twelve. At that age she still held all the innocence of the world, not knowing the terrors within high school walls. She looked up to Eric with great admiration, and he was her protector. If Amber was ever picked on, Eric would hunt down the bully and teach them a lesson until they apologized to Amber. They got along better than most siblings. Their parents were very trusting in letting Eric watch over her while they went on trips. He took pride in the job, guarding her like a treasure. Unfortunately it was on Eric’s watch that Amber was taken.
It was on an October third, Eric’s most hated day. Their parents were out of town for their anniversary. Eric and Amber were given a debit card loaded up with a food and movie rental budget for the weekend, Eric was left in charge with the keys to his mother’s car. Saturday night Amber wanted a movie marathon and Eric was happy to oblige. Eric loved movies and had a hobby of collecting memorabilia from his favorites. They went to the local quickshop to get junk food and rent some movies from the dvd vending machine outside. Little did they know, that would be the worst idea of the evening.
Frederick Oxley, a tough and mean person as their ever was. He was sitting in his junker of a car outside of the quickshop, shoving his pistol down his pants, preparing himself for the robbery about to happen. That is, until he saw two children exit the store. The older one emptying the dvd rental machine, while the younger girl could barely stand holding a mountain of chips, dips, cookies, soda and all other manners of food no parent would approve of. Fred, even though a mean spirited criminal, was no fool. He saw the opportunity of a house robbery with only a teenager and a child there to do anything about it. It would be much safer than robbing a quick shop where it may result to gun fire. He put the pistol back in the glove box and followed Eric and Amber as they rode off in their mother’s car.
The two carefree youngsters didn’t even notice they were being followed all the way back home. Fred drove past them as they pulled into the driveway, noting which house was his new target. It was a nice neighborhood, possible jewelry, high cost electronics, or more devious a prize, mail with credit card information awaited him inside. Maybe even, dare he even think it or jinx himself? A safe. A grin spread over Fred’s face. “Jackpot.” He needed slightly different supplies to rob a home than a store’s cash register. He drove off to gather duct tape, duffel bags, a crowbar and other various tools. If he was lucky enough there would be enough he could sell off to move on to bigger and richer areas.
A knocking interrupted their movie: “Star Jelly – The Threat Above”. A campy sci-fi film that was so “horribad” as Eric named it was more funny than scary. Amber jumped up from the couch “pizza’s here!” and ran towards the door. Eric called after her “Wait, I didn’t order any pizza.” It was too late, she unlocked the door and it flew open. She gazed up in horror at the dark eyes peering through a ski mask. He grabbed Amber and pressed the tip of a knife to her throat, keeping a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Shhh, don’t make a sound and you will get to wake up tomorrow.” Eric ran to the front door, stopping in his tracks seeing this stranger holding tightly on to Amber. “Let her go!” He screamed. Fred laughed. “I will tell you the same thing, don’t make a sound and you will get to wake up tomorrow.” Eric could only look at the knife on his sister’s neck. “Good lad, now you kids are going to sit quietly while I do my job, come on, let’s go see the kitchen.” Eric walked, staring back at the intruder the entire time.
Entering the kitchen Fred made Amber pull out a chair from the dinner table and sit in it. “Kid, you stay back for a moment.” He put the duffel bag on the floor and took out a roll of duct tape. “Now, tape your sister up to the chair if you want her to wake up tomorrow”. He held the knife at her throat. She was crying now, he was frozen with fear. He didn’t know to do. Eric hated hearing her cry. Fred pushed the tip of the blade a little more, drawing a tiny bead of blood. “Okay!” Eric screamed. He did as Fred told him to do, confining his sister to the chair. The robber pointed his blade in Eric’s direction. “Now you kid, sit.” Eric panicked. He was left in charge, to protect the house and his sister. He was failing on both accounts. He thought of a plan and shoved Fred screaming “Don’t cry Amber, I will come back for you!” He ran towards the front door, but Fred was quick and cut him off. “Not today kid!” Eric dropped to the floor when Fred grabbed at him, giving him time to slip away and head up stairs. He reached his room, looking around frantically he found a weapon, something to save his sister. Eric gripped his aluminum baseball bat tightly with overconfidence.
Fred thought about chasing the kid. He took the phone in the kitchen off the receiver and listened. There was no dial tone; the kid wasn’t calling the cops. He left it off the hook, looking at Amber. “You have a stupid brother, you know that?” Fred’s vision was washed away with pure white for a brief moment as a quick pounding filled his head. He dropped his knife and hit the floor. Eric fell over as well, having put all of his weight into that one swing of the bat. “Stupid kid that hurt like hell!” The robber screamed as he rolled over to his duffel bag. Eric got back up and swung again, hitting Fred’s back. He grabbed Fred’s knife and rushed to his sister, tearing at the tape. “I told you I would come back.” Amber smiled only briefly before terror returned to her face. Her expression was followed by a distinct click behind Eric. He heard that sound in countless movies but never thought how gut wrenching it would be in real life. He turned around, the robber stood, his mask off, holding his bleeding head wound with one hand, pointing his pistol at Eric with the other. Eric moved, standing fully between his sister and the intruder. “Kid, put the bat down, I should kill you for hitting me.” Eric didn’t listen. All he could think about was protecting his sister. “Get out of my house”. Fred laughed. “What are you going to do about it?” Eric leaped forward, putting everything he had into the swing of his bat.” Fred pulled the trigger and the metal bat came down upon him.
Eric grabbed the pistol off the floor, pointing it at Fred who was writing in pain, holding his head. The room spun and there was a ringing in his ears. “See Amber? I got him!”. The adrenaline was still coursing through Eric’s veins. He didn’t even feel where the bullet grazed his leg during his heroic leap. He looked back, dropping the bat. Amber sat, unmoving, her head slumped down. Blood ran down into her lap. The bullet that nicked Eric had killed his sister.
Fred stumbled up and Eric held the pistol on him. “You killed her!” he screamed, tears running down his face. Fred put his hands up, inching towards the door. “If you just listened to me kid, she would of woke up tomorrow. You can’t blame this on me, I told you!” Eric pulled the hammer back. “You’re not going to do it kid, don’t want blood on your hands. Then you’re no better than me.” Eric moved in line with Fred, standing between him and the exit. “I’m not letting you leave.” His hand shook with fear and sorrow, he couldn’t protect his sister and he couldn’t bring himself to shoot the man that killed her. Fred took his chances and ran, shouldering Eric to the side and made his escape. The police never found him, and Eric never forgave himself.
Eric had walked around downtown for a few hours before going to his workplace, the Iron Pit Bar and Grill. It was a hole in the wall place downtown geared towards bikers, metal heads, punks and any other group society deemed unsavory. It was still a few hours before his shift started as bar back / dish washer, but he needed a drink and some distraction from his thoughts. He was greeted by the early shift bartender Winnie. Her name was short for Winona, she hated that name. Winnie was in her early thirties. She kept her light brown hair long, tied back falling to just above her waist. Her features were soft with a bit of hidden wisdom behind her expressions. Winnie was the daughter of the bar’s owner Zeek Pascal. Zeek was an old codger of a biker with a new crazy story every night. Winnie was the opposite of her father, more quiet and reserved. She volunteered to take the slow hours, sacrificing potential tip money for a more tranquil work day.
“Eric, you are in early. Going to get some practice in on the pool tables before your shift?” Eric grabbed a stool, resting his arms on the bar. “No, just needed to relax some before work, can I get one of those imperial stouts we got in the other day?” Winnie grabbed a bottle with a picture of some grinning impish creature dancing on the label. “Coming to work to relax for work? You are starting to sound like me.” Winnie popped off the cap and set the bottle on a napkin for Eric. He grinned seeing the amount of stains and rings from water damage around the napkin. “You know, the bar is already ruined from drinks being sat on it, why bother?” Eric knew the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway. Winnie sighed, “Because soon as I beat those damn skin head lesbians at pool, the old man is refurbishing the bar. I figure the less damage on it, the less it will cost.” Eric smiled “You won’t beat them. Even if you get good enough, you have to find a partner that is good enough too.” The referred to ‘damn skin head lesbians’ were Ash and Jen: lovers of each other, punk rock and fistfuls of money. They were rich off hustling others out of their pay checks at the pool tables. Their favorite hangout was the Iron Pit. Every other bar and pool hall was a business trip, but the Iron Pit was their home. Winnie had always begged her father to refurbish the bar, clean up the place and make it more appeasing to get more people in the bar. Zeek on the other hand, didn’t care about the money, but the stories. To him, every knick, scratch, water ring, unidentifiable stain, or other damage to the bar was part of its history, and should not be tampered with. Finally, as a way to compromise, he told Winnie if she ever beat Ash and Jen in a game of eight ball, he would get the wood on the bar refurbished. She has tried time and again, but has never come close. Eric finished his beer and slid off the stool. “Well, might as well get some practice in.” He went to one of the pool tables, used his key to keep the side open so he didn’t have to feed it quarters and played until it was time for his shift to start.
Most people would find a menial manual labor job horrible, something just to get them by until they found something better. Eric on the other hand, loved it. The owner Zeek was a crazy old biker full of stories ranging from his days on the road, complaining about his ex-wife or some random conspiracy theory like alien piss in the drinking water. Zeek opened the bar as a place for his friends to stop by and hang out when they were in town. The regulars, that’s what Zeek cared about. Each regular had a metal tankard with their name engraved in it hanging over the bar. If you weren’t a regular, you were a nobody. Nobodies had to earn the right to become a regular. The regulars were what made the job entertaining. There where the previously deemed ‘damn skinhead lesbians’ Ash and Jen. Then there was Mort who was the first regular to show up that night. Mort was an odd fellow who didn’t talk much, but when he did there was some profound cryptic knowledge behind it. Mort was old, the only hair on his head left where his eyebrows and a thick white goatee. He nodded to Winnie before taking his normal seat at the bar. She grabbed his metal tankard and filled it with Mort’s usual of “cheapest thing you have”. Most of the regulars had a running tab they just had to pay by the end of the month. Mort however always paid by order and always in change, no bills. Mort stacked up coins next to his tankard. Winnie liked Mort, he was quiet and smart. Only spoke when something needed to be said. A mountain of a man entered next followed by a young petite girl. Eric called out to the man “Toad, thought you had tonight off?” The moan spoke on a deep, croaking voice “Needed some extra cash”. Toad was the bouncer. It was rare that Toad actually had to do anything. Usually when he got off his stool and whoever was causing trouble saw how actually big Toad was, they stopped whatever they were doing. Eric had been working at the Iron Pit for about two years and only saw Toad have to get physical with someone once. There was a fight and this guy, Franky Tildon, hit Toad with a pool stick. No one knows how long it took for Franky before he could eat solid food again after that incident.
The petite girl was Sally, one of the bar tenders. She was hyper and bubbly, but could make a mean drink and got a lot of attention from the guys. Zeek had her be the voice of any sort of specials or announcements for live bands because she seemed overly excited about everything. Alice, the “Pit Wench” as her overly tight shirt read came in complaining about traffic. Alice was the definition of bombshell. Zeek found her at a burlesque show and let her run one at the Iron Pit once a month. She had the looks that made all men, and some of women, who frequent the bar want to get touchy feely. She had the attitude to keep them at bay though. Eric even once saw her once round house kick a guy who flashed her. She knocked him out cold. The cook Rick came out of the back room groggy, rubbing his face. He was going through a tough divorce. After his ex-wife kicked him out and won his motorcycle in the settlement, Zeek took pity and let Rick use an empty room in the back to camp out in until he got back on his feet. Rick wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and had a shotgun wedding after he got his ex-wife pregnant after only a few weeks of dating. They had been together for three years, mainly for the child until they just couldn’t stand each other anymore. A few of the regulars entered, almost as if they timed being there after the evening shift staff arrived.
Gus “Chops” McMillen, a biker in his mid-fiftys. Gus got his nickname from the mutton chops he sported. He was loud and crude Chops always had a dirty joke at the ready. One of his favorite past times was testing Alice’s personal space limits to see how far he could go before getting slapped. Ash and Jen entered with a few nobodies they had planned to . A short Hispanic guy came in next with a woman on his side. This was Ricco, the genius. Ricco always put on an act like he was an angry tough idiot. A few drunken ramblings proved he was possibly the smartest guy Eric had ever met. Ricco even had an engineering degree and was working on starting a custom car and motorcycle business with his brother. “There’s that little Mexican, get over here you son of a bitch!” Chops called out. Ricco and the girl with him went over the table Chops was sitting at, and the two men shook hands. “What’s happin you fat fuck, not allowed to sit at the bar ?” Chops leaned back, leering at Alice’s rear end. “I got a better view from here.” He leaned back looking the girl Ricco brought with him up and down. “Speaking of view, what’s this nice piece of landscapes name?” Ricco introduced her “This little mama is Debbie; Debbie, this is Chops, don’t let him touch you.” She giggled and Chops gave Ricco a death glare. “So, Debbie, you want to hear a story?” Ricco shook his head “defiantly don’t listen to his stories”. Debbie played with Ricco’s hair “I can take care of myself, go on Chops”. Chops took a swig of his drink. “So, a young guy walks into a bar and sits next to an older man with a shoe box. The young guy asks “what’s in the box?” Old man looks at him and says “South American Blow Job Lizard” The young guy asks if he could try it, and the old man lets him. After about ten minutes in the bathroom the young guy goes to the old man and says “That was great, I will give you one-hundred dollars for that lizard!” The old man shakes his head “Good as this thing gives BJs, won’t take less than five-hundred.” Young guy thinks about it, then forks over the money. Well, he goes home all excited and his wife says “What’s in the box?” The guy says to his wife “I just bought a South American Blow Job Lizard”. His wife says “So what?” He then tells his wife “So, teach the thing how to cook and get out of my damn house!” Chops finished the story while laughing, Debbie looked offended and Ricco had to hold in a laugh to not get in trouble with his new girlfriend.
As more people filled the bar it became alive. The jukebox roared with some eighty’s hair metal. Laughter, arguing, drunken songs and name calling were what made up the chorus of the Iron Pit. Eric loved the place and the people. He would do just about anything for the good of the Pit, and the regulars. They were his family. The night went well like most nights. Toad kept any fights from breaking out, Alice and Sally earned some hefty tips and regulars and nobodies alike had good drink and good fun in the Iron Pit. Another good night for all, but Eric needed some sleep after closing and headed to his apartment.
Denizens © Copyright 2012 Brandon Woodward
Denizens © Copyright 2012 Brandon Woodward
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