The Mandela Affection (A Cryptid Chronicle Companion Novel)

Chapter 1

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If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't have stopped for that free beer. But it probably wouldn't have mattered. Fate still would've found a way to turn my life upside down. Destiny is funny that way. Besides, when my plane landed on that Tuesday afternoon, I had time to kill before I could go to my parent's house. They were meeting with a real estate agent to put their house up for sale in Metro Detroit. So I drove my rental car to a local pub since I was hungry from my flight and could use a drink as well to soften the blow of losing my childhood home.

Yes, I could've gone to countless places in Westland. My hometown certainly had every chain restaurant known to man, but I decided to visit an old classmate who worked as a bartender at the Beaver Lodge. Donny had messaged me last month on Facebook looking for advice on moving to the West Coast. I'd lived in the Bay Area since graduation, so I gave him what guidance I could, and he made me promise to visit him for a drink next time I was in Michigan.

Frankly, I was a little surprised the Beaver Lodge was still open. The only thing it had going for it was a clever name and cheap beer. Though I'd heard from my parents, the owners had recently remodeled and expanded the menu, hoping to draw more people than college kids.

From the outside, it looked the same. At least as much as my tired memory could recall. The building was long with pine sidings to give it the appearance of a rustic log cabin. I parked in the large lot behind the building and walked around to the entrance, a heavy wood door with deer antlers for handles. I found the restaurant half full of diners, mostly families. The bar was empty, save for one old man nursing a beer. I took a seat in front of a flat-screen TV tuned to Sportcenter. With the sound muted, I couldn't tell what the talking heads were discussing, but it didn't matter; I wasn't a sports fan.

The bartender looked like my classmate's profile picture, but I couldn't be positive since he had his back to me as he prepared a drink. Truthfully, we hadn't been that close in high school. My social circle had been small, mostly kids in the college-prep classes, my ex-girlfriend Jessica, and by extension, some of Jessica's friends. He handed the drinks to a server and cast his gaze on me. A big smile erupted on his face.

"Brian fucking Hanson. How the hell are you?"

"Good, Donny Thompson. How are you doing?"

"I'm glad you took me up on my offer." He stuck his hand out.

I shook my head while taking his hand. "Sure. But you don't owe me anything."

"Shut up. I'll let you return the favor when I move to California."

"Deal."

Donny asked, "Are you back visiting your parents?"

"Yes. I'm here to help them pack up their house. They're retiring to Florida."

"Cool." He set a napkin down in front of me. "What do you want to drink?"

I wasn't a big drinker and didn't want to look stupid, so I went for something simple. "Bud Light."

"Bottle?"

"Please."

Donny reached inside a waist-high refrigerator behind him and retrieved a long neck. He twisted off the cap and set the bottle in front of me. The cap went into a garbage can next to the fridge.

"Thanks." The first sip tasted good, so I took another.

Donny pointed to the menu on the bar. "Do you want to order some food?"

"Do I need to get a table?"

"No. You can eat here, but I can't cover a meal. Only the drink. Sorry."

"I didn't expect you to. The beer is more than enough."

I checked the menu with its two pages of hamburger options. I settled on a bacon blue-cheese burger covered in onions and BBQ sauce since I wouldn't be kissing anyone later. Donny left to enter my order into the computer at the end of the bar. Once that task was complete, he retrieved the ten-dollar bill and empty bottle left by the barfly before resting an elbow on the lacquered bar top in front of me.

"So Brian, from your profile, it looks like you're a big shot computer guy."

"I guess."

"Don't be shy. Tell me all about it."

I gave him an abridged version of my life over the past ten years, leaving out my recent resignation. Unfortunately, I hadn't done much except go to school and work. My life story sounded boring, even to me.

When I was done, he whistled loudly. "We all knew that you were going places. You had it all including, Jessica Jackson. How did you pull that off?"

I smiled. This was not the first time that I'd been asked that question. "I just got lucky. We had an English class together and kind of hit it off. The rest was history."

"I'm jealous. I would've paid to sit next to her. Man, some guys have all the luck."

"Thanks."

Donny leaned in close to me. "But I heard Jessica dumped you before you went away to college, that was pretty low."

I frowned. "It was a mutual decision. With me moving across the country, it never would've worked."

Straight-faced, he said, "You know she's here."

"Who's here?"

"Jessica. She's in the restaurant right now."

Shaking my head, I finished my beer. "You're not funny."

"I'm serious. She's eating dinner with her family."

"Wow. I haven't seen her parents in years," I said stupidly.

"No. Her husband and kid."

Damn. Of course, she'd be here with Jim. Acid rolled in my stomach, not helped by the beer. Jessica had married my nemesis, a Neanderthal football player from our high school. Jim McGrath had bullied me since we were kids, and it only got worse when I dated Jessica. He thought Jessica should be with him instead. Well, he got his wish after we broke up. Which was a complete kick in the teeth since as time went on, I realized what a huge mistake I'd made breaking up with her. But there was no going back. I wasn't a homewrecker.

A waitress dropped off an order, and Donny left me to fill the drinks, so I turned my attention to the television. Another set of talking heads had taken over the screen. I watched them debate the merits of some team or athlete or sport or something as I tried to rip the label off the beer bottle in one uniform piece. I failed. It ripped in half.

Eventually, someone from the kitchen dropped off my meal. The burger looked delicious. And massive. I picked it up with two hands and took a bite. The bun was thick and soft, the bacon crispy, the BBQ sauce was the right mix of sweet and spicy which contrasted perfectly with the blue cheese. The fries were a little thicker than I liked, but with a little salt and ketchup, they went down just as easy as the burger. I washed it all down with the rest of my beer and debated on ordering another.

Like I said, I was not a big drinker, never had been. Not that I have anything particularly against it, but personally, I don't like the loss of control. I wanted to keep an iron-tight grip on reality and my place in it, so I decided against another round. I'd switch to a Coke when Donny came back, but he didn't. He kept himself busy on the other end of the bar cutting up limes and a giant pineapple— which I assumed was by design because his plan worked.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a woman with shiny brown hair come from the back dining room and turn down the narrow hallway off the bar to go to the woman's bathroom.

It was Jessica.