Thomasville

Getting A Drink

Men sat on rows of uncomfortable stools. The air of misery in the room was unmistakable. The smell of stale beer and vomit was strong.

Nobody wanted to be here, yet nobody could bring themselves to go home. Years prior, these men had been successful farmers. They had been breadwinners serving their families through labour. Their places at the heads of their tables had been earned and justified. Now, the feelings of failure weighed on them like bags of bricks, and they visibly sagged under the pressure.

The failure of the crops had left the farmers feeling both underwhelmed and overwhelmed. The problems were ever-growing, but there was little to be done about it. Any escape was a welcome relief, but the comfort was temporary; Leaving shame and disappointment in its wake. Only a short while ago, few of these men would have gone out drinking at midday on a Sunday. They would have been working or attending the church service. But, with no work to be done and the depressing decline of Pastor Brady, it felt like there was nowhere else to go.

Lucky Cuyler broke the silence.

What is the point of being a God-fearing man if this is how life is going to treat you? That man dedicated his entire life to preaching. He was a good husband, and he is a good father. For the love of God, he knows the Old Testament by memory! What more could he have possibly done? The man is the closest thing to a saint as I have ever known, and yet he has nothing! His wife is dead. His adult son is no better off than a babe and, now, he is wasting away more and more every day. Why should I go to church if this is how God treats good Christians?

The people who are flocking to the church are not doing any better than the rest of us. Their children remain hungry, their crops are still turning up dust, and their pockets continue to be empty.

Have you read the book of Job? "He saves the needy from the sword in their mouth; he saves them from the clutches of the powerful. So, the poor have hope, and injustice shuts its mouth." You really should read more. Some of these questions practically answer themselves, replied Billie Smithers in a condescending tone.

That is the reason I stopped talking to you, Bill. I just poured out my heart to you and, you responded with a veiled insult and a half-understood quote. If you want to act high and mighty, then tell me, why are you here? You could be at church right now, but you chose to come here instead. So how dare you act as if you are some all-holy example of piety! What gives you the right to judge me? We are both sitting here, in the same place, doing the same thing and, you want to act as if I am beneath you. Every time I speak to you, I walk away feeling like the crud under your boots.

Billie's rebuttal was a thundering crash as he threw the chair across the room and pushed his former friend off his stool and onto the ground. The bar owner, Elmer, got his gun from behind the counter and aimed it at Billie. No fighting! Get out now, or they will have to carry you out in a coffin. Initially, Billie was so terrified he felt glued to the floor. But when he came to his senses, he found himself racing back to the property of his parents.

Joshua Browning helped Lucky to his feet and back into his stool. Truth be told: Joshua had never liked either of the youths, but he downright hated Billie. The young man had an attitude problem. His smart mouth and egotistical mindset made many instantly dislike him. Lucky knew that dysfunction in Billie stemmed from insecurity, but he was too emotionally exhausted to care.

Old Tom sat on the seat next to Lucky and placed a hand on his shoulder. You know, I used to feel the same way. Life is hard and unfair. I have come to understand that we can never demand things from God. There are too many people for everyone to get what they deserve. We need to have patience and accept that sometimes bad things happen to good people. Lucky turned to Tom and shook his head. He laid his head to rest in his hands and tried to steady his breath. Lucky turned to the old-man and embraced him. Tom was startled, but he returned the gesture patting his young friend on the back.

Lucky pulled out a few dollars from the bag he had with him. Here is the last time we see each other. My uncle found a job for me in the city, but the train ticket is one way. I have no plans to buy another, at least not for a long while. Happy to hear it. Finding work is a blessing these days. Take care. We will miss you around the mill. Lucky smiled and passed the money to Elmer, who was pouring more drinks.

I have a pretty big favour to ask: Could you check in on my mother now and then? I feel terrible about leaving her, but making money and sending it home is the only way to stop our farm from getting foreclosed. Tom laughed heartily and slapped the youth on the knee. It would not bother me the least bit. Your mother is a lovely woman, and I enjoy her sense of humour. The two men shook hands and held eye contact for a moment before parting ways.

Old Tom was the last living child of Thomas Alexander, the founder of Thomasville. He had been born in the town and had only left a handful of times. The idea of starting a new life somewhere else was unfathomable to the seventy-year-old. Others in town felt the same; they had lived in Thomasville so long that it had become an integral aspect of their identity.

Moving cities is one thing when you are a young person with no attachments looking to forge a new path. It is another thing altogether when you no longer have the vitality to begin anew. That does not mean that the old-man was not somewhat jealous of his twenty-year-old counterpart.

Many of the others in the room felt envious as they watched Lucky march off to start his new life. But, the residents of Thomasville who remained were the most resilient of the bunch. They had made their beds, and now they were going to sleep in them even if it was a trial.

Elmer sat behind the countertop and counted his profits. He smiled to himself and tucked the cash into his coat pocket. His customers were glaring daggers at him, having seen the money. While everyone else in town was hemorrhaging money, his wealth was steadily expanding. The tension was high as Elmer turned to a frequenter and fixed him with a superficial smile. Anything else, Joe? No, I will be going now. Said the man in a resentful tone as he slammed the money down on the table. Joe stomped out and, Elmer could hear boots slamming against the dirty floor. Elmer did not care. He had gotten what he wanted.

Elmer Lee was not an esteemed citizen of Thomasville. Elmer was infamously manipulative and a schemer. He regularly engaged in a variety of perversions, but this was not enough to have him ostracized. His business did not just extend to alcohol, but stimulants and narcotics as well.

The dealer had more clients than he had fingers and toes. In a town as small as Thomasville; This was a sizable percentage of the population. He was privy to all the town gossip and had heard all about the waning cleric. He wondered what would happen when the elder died, thinking that perhaps he would get more business if it were not for the constant sermonizing.

As he got up to lock the doors, he noticed the sunset as he peered through his window pane. The intensity of the colours led him to believe that there was probably a fire. He hoped it would not cause him any issues during his trip to acquire more commodities in the city. Time is money, and he hated a delay.

He cleaned up the chair fragments from Billie's temper tantrum while pondering what would have happened had he pulled the trigger. Elmer had spent time in the Lansing Correctional Facility and the Oklahoma state prison.

He figured if he had killed that Smithers boy in front of all those people. He probably would have been apprehended and brought back in. Maybe they would have lynched him in the town square. But who knows, this town does not have a sheriff and, he had gotten away with murder before.