5

HaveAnother’s was the kind of bar that you would start hating just about the time that you were too drunk to successfully leave it. And we were all pretty drunk. Everyone was lurching around with brown paper bags, buying mixers at the bar. Saul’s band, called Boilermaker, cranked out one lackluster cover after another, including a horrendous rendition of “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” in which Saul, singing lead, ignored the wry tone for sheer self-pity, sweat flying out of his forehead, eyes bulging as various chemicals hissed in his brain.

The room was thick with smoke, and the dance floor was slippery with beer, kids falling down, kids groping each other, larger groups of kids watching the gropers with envy and disgust. Ray and Holly, at least, seemed to be having a good time, holding hands and smiling. They were always happy together, brazenly so, I thought.

I was about to comment on this thoughtlessness when Skip and Saul and Diane came back to the table. The band was taking a break, and Saul looked like a man who had taken the opportunity to send new chemical messages deep into his cerebral cortex. Diane looked happy but nervous.

Skip sat down next to me and gulped from his beer. “Beer really makes a guy piss,” he said. “Tell you this joke, okay? There was this guy and he went into the john at a bar and there was this guy in there pouring a beer down the toilet and the other guy says, ‘Hey, what are you doing that for?’ and the first guy says, ‘Avoiding the middleman!’” Skip laughed and slapped the table. Drinking made his face shinier with the glow of malnutrition. Suddenly he looked up and waved.

Larry and Anna steered over to the table. Anna looked angry and Larry looked pleased with himself, costumed in a silver vest and wearing a cowboy hat. They sat down and Anna said, “I want to go home.”

Larry smiled in front of him, a sleepy smile that happened to be directed at me. “Wanting don’t make as much noise as farting,” he said. Skip, sitting next to me, burst into wet laughter. Larry turned to Anna and added, in a benign and regal tone, “I just got an appointment that I gotta keep, and then we’ll go.”

“I gotta go now,” Anna said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“We ain’t leaving now,” Larry said. He reached over and caught her wrist. Anna was smoking a cigarette, stuck in the corner of her mouth, eyes squinted away from the smoke. She reached up with her free hand, took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew the smoke up toward the ceiling and said, “Let go of me, Larry.”

Larry smiled wider, goggled his eyes in mock terror.

Anna jammed the burning cigarette into the back of Larry’s hand, shoving with a vicious little twist. Larry roared, and the table flew up into the air, along with my beer and a number of other glasses and bottles.

Anna was out the door with Larry close behind her, screaming, “You fucking bitch! You fucking bitch!” We all followed them outside.

HaveAnother’s was providentially located out in the woods where it wouldn’t disturb a more civilized element. There was a lake where drunks could piss at frogs and push each other into the water. There were woods where, in good weather, sudden romances could be instantly consummated. It was a college student’s idea of heaven.

Larry ran around shouting Anna’s name and the rest of us drank beer and watched Larry. Larry, who wasn’t entirely sober himself, slipped on a muddy spot and went down with a curse. When he got back up, he must have decided that enough of his dignity was already gone. He stalked back into the bar. Slowly, in twos and threes, the crowd followed him. I went down to the lake and took a piss and was just zipping up my fly when Anna laughed behind me.

I turned and she said, “I guess I showed that fucker, didn’t I? I guess he’ll know I’m not joking next time.”

I shook my head. “I expect he’ll beat you into rubbish the next time he sees you.”

Anna sighed. “Yeah. He’ll have to do that. The son of a bitch.”

I drove Anna home. I went into the kitchen for a beer and Anna went to bed. The Villa was quiet. The folks were still out cavorting, and Kalso was in New York. The only noise was the soft susurration of cockroach feet.

I sat at the kitchen table and drank three beers. I didn’t need them. They weren’t absolutely necessary. I could have gotten along without them. But they were a comfort.

I heard a car pull up, saw its lights glaze the kitchen window. I recognized the sound of Larry’s heavy boots. He came into the kitchen where the unkind light made his face look puffier than usual. He sank down into a kitchen chair with a big sigh.

He pushed his cowboy hat back and looked at me. “Well, pardner, I see you brought the little filly home. I want to thank you for your concern.”

I thought Larry might get ugly. I had no idea what I would do if he did, but I wasn’t frightened of him. I disliked him too much to fear him, if that makes any sense.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Let me tell you something. You probably think I’m a bastard. Sweet little Anna. Cute little button-nose Anna. Honey-assed Anna with a body that don’t quit. You ever fuck a snake?” Larry burst out laughing. His hat actually flew off. His hair was sweated down over his forehead, thinning. He looked older than when I had first seen him.

He stopped laughing. “What I’m trying to tell you is you don’t know shit about Anna and me. We belong together. I’m going up there right now, and I’m gonna be just as sweet as syrup. I ain’t gonna say a word about tonight’s little misunderstanding. I’m just gonna forgive and forget. Girl uses me for an ashtray, what the hell, too many drinks, that’s all. I ain’t one to hold a grudge. I’m gonna let it go. And you know what?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Hey, come on now, ask me what.”

“What?”

“Anna ain’t gonna be happy till I hit her.”

I stood up and started to leave the kitchen. I wasn’t interested in Larry and his concern for Anna’s welfare.

Larry grabbed my shoulder. He surprised me with a sudden burst of rage. He brought his face up close to mine and spoke in a trembling, hoarse voice. “Listen, you high and mighty motherfucker. I am telling you a truth that could save your life. You come waltzing in here with some notion of rescuing the fairy princess from the dragon. Well, it ain’t that way, and if you want to leave with your educated balls intact, don’t start that bullshit with Anna. Hell, she’ll draw you in. You ain’t the first prince charming on a fucking horse. She’ll say, ‘Oh that sorry Larry done me wrong!’ Then she will whack your balls off, buddy. Believe me. She enjoys it.”

Larry backed off, shook off the last of the rage. He seemed, suddenly, a little sheepish. “Hell, I’m telling you for your own good.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I said. I left the kitchen, went up to my room and looked at my latest painting and was struck by its pretentiousness. I wondered why I thought I was an artist and inhaled a great gout of drunken self-pity and fell asleep.