For sticking with me through hard times.
“Watch were your going' son!” yelled a purple faced driver.
Drake quickly snapped out of his daydream and ran out of the way of the traffic he had just stepped into.
“S-sorry sir,” stammered Drake, “It wont happen again,” though he wasn't so sure about that.
“It's OK young man, just keep your wits about you especially around this here traffic, no one really needs the P.O.R.C called on them. I definitely don't want to call them because of a reckless teen wandering in the middle of the traffic because of mid-day dreams.”
Drake had fear etched deep in his face. And or a good reason. Having the P.O.R.C called on a person was a terror that everyone hopes to go their whole lives without experiencing. For whatever reason they were called for, that person then become a soon to be gravestone with the heading; here lays a law breaker who has been served his justice. Dead to everyone. The P.O.R.C are the Protectors Of Raine Control. Very powerful and very much in control.
Drake hurried on his way. He was already late for his new job; Gazo's bar. The only bar in Raine. Gazo has had the privilege of being able to open the only existing bar in the city from the Cromades. Central controllers of the city. Nothing is ever done without the approval or notice of them. Or as far as they have told everyone.
As he hurried along he thought about the Cromades and who they were. The fact was that no one really knew who they were. Their faces or even their presence has been absent since the walls that surround the city went up. All anyone knew was that there was a high power in control and that they kept everyone safe. As far as anyone knows all the cities have a similar form of ruling and that was that.
Dwelling on thoughts or questions of this matter were dangerous. No one questions the authority of the Cromades. Just one more act of crime Drake has committed today.
He pushed all of these thoughts from his head and concentrated on were he was going. He had never been to or even near Gazo's bar before but jobs were becoming tougher to find. So his dad had signed him up for the job and he excepted it with no questions asked. As he went over the directions in his head again, he rounded the corner and there he was. A big neon glowing sign hung over his destination.
The thing he noticed the most was the throng of late night pedestrians conversing in front of Gazo's. The cause for this was that there was a vast crowd inside as well as the steady stream of people who have finished their drinks and were heading through the door out into the cold night. No anger or hard feelings could be seen throughout the crowd. Quite a calm place for it to be a bar.
Old stories are often told to the kids in their schools about when the were no walls around the city. Bars were a common thing and so were the fights that their reputation held. Anger used to be an emotion most people felt all the time, not anymore.
As Drake approached the awfully small door to the bar, he got some looks that he did not like. Looks that said everything they felt like, why is that KID here? Or, how come he is pushing through us like that? It bothered him but soon, if all went well he would be serving them their drinks and hoping but not getting their tips. Tough.
After what seemed like ages, he finally pushed through the last mass of people and entered an even more crowded room. What the hell is going on? Either this was one big party or he would just have to find a new way of coming into the building.
A glint of artificial light shined in his eyes. He looked over to it and spotted his boss whom he has only ever seen in the paper a couple of times. One when he had just opened and another when they did a story with him on how well his business was doing. By the looks of it, he was doing a damn good job.
Making his way over to the bar, Drake caught Gazo's eye and he looked up. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the glass he was holding into a big arc and caught it with the open top pointing up. He poured the gentleman he was serving a drink and came over to greet Drake.
“Hello my apprentices. If you would be so kind as to meet me up at my office in a minute or so. I have to finish up here,” he said with quite the gentlest tone. His voice was a little off putting considering he was not a small man. He had quite a bit of muscle and Drake was sure he knew how to use it all.
It didn't take to long to reach the stairs. The groups of people thin out the farther into the bar you go. No one sat or even stood on the stairs. They were quite clean to. The stairs looked as though they had a no tolerance to dirt or grime of any kind. His first step onto the stairs was a tentative one, afraid that he would leave a track of his filth on it but there was not a mark. So he walked calmly up the stairs admiring the work of the place. Sofas and tables were placed around the bar to have a comforting get together with friends or whom ever. Bar tables placed at regular intervals for the maximum advantage for everyone to always have a drink. Outstanding.
Ounce he reached the top of the stairs, there was one door. He hesitated before opening it then turned the handle. If anyone was to ask what Gazo's room was inspired by it would be art. No one could really say that he had only one specific type of art but they would all agree he has an abundance of it all. From animal heads to old canvas paintings. Of course there was new age art as well. Some sculptures here and some written work as well.
“I-I was just l-looking,” stammered Drake.
“looking is admiration in its own way,” Gazo said paying no attention to Drake's surprised expression, “For some art, looking at it is inspiring envy to grow in some hearts. In others its astonishment at how it is or ever was considered art.”
Drake went from startled to confused, why would a person with this amount of passion for art become a bar tender?
“You see, Drake, art is lost to most everybody. Sure they may swander in the fact that their homes are furnished with relics of past times, but they do not appreciate it. A person can go their whole lives without noticing the purest and truest of arts; the earth and its persons.”
Drake felt motivated by this meeting with his new boss. He could not shake the feeling of awe that overcame him at the pure fascination this man had of art.
“All the changes in people,politics and the overall population is art. A strange and mishapen art, but an art piece none the less.”
“I’m telling you this, not because im trying to make you fall in love with art, i am simply telling you this because art is important. I want to make sure that you never underestimate or overlook the true value and meaning of art.”
Gazo promptly sat in his oversized chair and proceeded to light a fresh cigar.
“Sir,” Drake said cautiously, “what, if you don't mind me asking, was the message in what you just said?”
Gazo released a puff of purple smoke causing Drake to gag from the putrid smell. He sighed, set the cigar down and leaned forward.
“The message was simple. As long as you work and do your jobs correctly you will be well compensated. Look on at the jobs you are doing as though you are the painter of those fine arts. Don't be afraid to surprise me and show me what you are capable of,” he finished with a slight grin.
The meaning behind Gazos mindful speech was still lost to Drake but he knew that in good time he would know it.
“Now, down to the business you came to learn. And learn you shall.”
