Happy 2016 everyone. We are going to try something new on Sword & Quill this month; instead of posting seperate stories or random thoughts on here every Wednesday, over the next four weeks I will be posting one continuous story, told in four parts. Let me know what you think in the comments. Enjoy!
The Bastard and Mr. Williams
“Are we allowed to drink at these get togethers?”
“It’s frowned upon.”
I looked up. “That’s not a no.”
He made some marks in his notepad, then peered at me over his glasses. “Consider it a no.”
I shrugged. “Shame. Some of my best conversations have happened over a drink.” He smiled with a coldness in his eyes.
“Avoidance, Mr. Williams. You promised no avoidance.”
I licked my upper lip. It was a habit I had picked up at some point. “Avoidance? I would only call it that if I never got to the point. This is just a skillful buildup.” He ticked his pen pointedly on his notepad and stared at me with those infernal blue eyes. I looked out the window at the activity on The Bay. It looked peaceful. “I’ve been having a pretty rough couple of days.”
“Is that why you called me?” I peeled my eyes off a particularly stunning sailboat to shoot him a look. “Ok, that’s fair. Allow me to rephrase. Did you call because you’ve been having a rough couple of days, or because of what started the rough couple of days?”
I thought back to five days ago. Through the alcohol induced haze. Past the insomnia fueled dreams. I thought about the day the elevator doors opened, and She had been there.
That Woman. I never really believed that She would come back into my life. I may have secretly hoped for it, dreaded it, avoided it, but never believed that it would really happen. Until the day it finally did.
“Just a rough couple of days.” I lied. “Not even really sure why I called. Just thought maybe you missed me.”
“It’s fine. We can sit here in silence if you’d like. I get paid by the hour.”
“An hour to sit here and watch the boats come in and out of The Bay. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.” I shrugged. “Be better with a bourbon and water,” I whispered under my breath. But just loud enough.
He frowned over his glasses at me. “You’re such a Puritan, Doc. What, did you grow up Baptist or something?” I was itching for a drink.
“Who is she?”
The question hit dead center. We’ve lost the mizzenmast Captain, and taking on water on the port side. “She?” It came out as a croak.
The bastard waited.
“I think we’ve had enough buildup, Mr. Williams. Don’t you? Who is she?”
I inhaled. I wish he would have let me have that drink.
Click here for Part 2.