Ascension

Chapter 3

Mick was in a good mood when he strode into the Horseshoe Bar and breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the familiar scent of wood, sweat and beer, smells that he had grown up around and identified as home. The jukebox was singing ‘Play It All Night Long’ on loop, earning appreciative head bobs and disgruntled eye rolls alike. A few regulars greeted him and he winked at two girls playing darts as he approached the bar counter. He cast a quick eye around for Gabe before settling himself on a stool.

“He ain’t here yet.” Mick spun his stool around to see a middle-aged woman in a flannel button down watching him with her hands braced on her hips.

“Donna!” He smiled sweetly at her, putting on the most innocent face he could muster. “Donna Donna Donna. Have I ever told you just how fantastic you look?”

She swatted the back of his head. “Don’t you try to butter me up, boy,” she replied, raising a brow at him as he rubbed his head and made a face at her. “When was the last time you stepped in here?”

“Come on, Donna, I’m sorry!” he protested.

“And you never bring Boy Wonder here either! How am I supposed to know how you’re doing if you never even show up?”

He blinked slowly at her. “You could always call. There’s something called a telephone and...”

“Don’t you get smart with me, Michael Hardy. You were raised better than that.” She poked his forehead before opening her arms. “Now, get over here.”

He shook his head in bemusement before getting up and hugging her tightly. Donna patted his back, rubbing her thumbs over his shoulders the same way she had done when he was short enough to fit under her chin. Mick exhaled lowly, letting her familiar warmth wash over him as she held him close like a mother bear.

“Better?” he asked, quirking a smile as she released him.

“Shut up. Where’s Gabriel?”

“I’m waiting for him. He should be here in a little while. Any chance I can get a drink while I’m waiting?”

She nodded at the bar. “Take a seat, Mick. Yo, Rooster!” she shouted, slapping the counter. “Get your skinny ass up here!”

There was a sound of a muffled thud and a low curse before a lanky man unfolded himself from the floor behind the counter and scrambled to his feet. True to his name, his pale hair was drawn into tall, red-dyed spikes on the top of his head.

“Geez, Donna,” he muttered, turning a finger in his ear. “Can’t give a guy a little warning?”

She threw a dish towel at him. “You don’t get paid to snooze under the counter, Bird Boy. Table in the back wants a round of shots and get Mick here a drink.”

“Hey, Mick,” he greeted, clasping his forearm. “Good to see you. What do you want?”

“I’ll start off with a beer. Gabe’s coming in later for dinner.”

“I’ll keep a table clear,” said Donna, leaving them.

Mick leaned on the counter as Rooster slid a bottle over to him and lined up a tray of shots. He blinked at a tattoo on the man’s bicep.

“That’s a new one,” he commented.

“Got it last week.”

“Nice. Birdcage though? Since when do you read?”

“Hey, I read! Vonnegut is the shit, man. How the hell do you know anything about him?”

“I work at a bookstore,” he said pointedly.