Walking out of This World

Twenty Seven

Brown liquid stumbles out—a whisky bottle clinging to the grasp of a trembling hand. The rolling thunder behind his eyes drives a pool of brown fluid—gurgling...slinking into a comfortable space...filling gray matter that gives no hint of sleep...a hope that only comes when the bottle is empty.

A slap announces the bottle's return to the small round table offering no resistance to the rough rider that's been its solitary occupant..nurturing a frenzied dance. Waiting lips cradle the shot glass' returning promise. A gathering of shadows welcomes its prize...sloshing down...down into the depths...where it is inventoried and delivered to a grateful brain.

Shadows gathering...dancing...swirling. They sing.

"Ring around the Jenkins...Jenkins!"

"Pocket full of greenies...greenies!"

"Ashes...ashes...we all fall down!"

Down!

Down!

Down!

Falling into a pool of black. Fingers stretch out and fold over...grasping...squeezing the life out of the daylight that used to inhabit an unsuspecting tenure of days.

"Ashes...ashes...we all fall down!"

Another gulp of whisky down the hatch. Drowning in a whisky river is the only answer for unhappy memories. No. Not just a friendly bottle of forget me juice. I have another friend.

"Shh...don't let out the secret."

A knowing hand reaches for a cigarette... resting...waiting. A wisp of green haze circles up around my head inviting a more profound forget-it-all adventure. I suck in a deep puff...swirling...twirling in hopeful lungs. "Ashes...Ashes...We all fall down!"

The plunge down started with Captain Jeff calling to me in the parking lot after a tiring shift. Dusk was blotting out the light from an innocent Tuesday.

"Hey Dan!" He yelled into the midst of a glowing sunset.

"Hi Jeff, what's up?" Those were the first words that came out of my mouth, an innocent greeting that would turn into an invite for dinner at Sally's.

Captain Jeff led me to a table in the back corner, away form stormy laughter and clinking glasses. He tapped out a message on his phone—two burgers and two Millers...table twelve, please.

He leaned forward like he was going to tell me the latest department gossip, intense eyes taking mine prisoner. "You want to make detective, don't you?"

The word at the station was that Captain Jeff could make things happen since he was second in command. "Sure!"

"Well...I have the assignment that'll put you there tomorrow!" His words marched across the table like conquering soldiers.

"How's that?"

"Undercover assignment."

The waiter arrived with a tray of burgers and brews. He slid them onto the table with slow motion care. Captain Jeff handed him two twenties.

A smile crossed the young man's mouth nudging the freckles on his cheeks into a bouncy dance. "Any thing else?"

"No. Not now. Thanks son."

I turned my attention to the Miller. A sip of cool, liquid hops slithered down to an empty stomach.

Captain Jeff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a swelling white envelope. He pushed it across the table for my viewing pleasure. His eyes stayed fixed on mine while I scanned the unexpected arrival.