«Mi casa es su casa. Do whatever you want.»
David yawned and looked at me.
«There are ladies present. I’ll do one for you next time. Thanks, you old bastard,» he added when he finally got his glass.
He rolled up the sleeves of his frayed sweatshirt and looked at me again.
«Sorry ‘bout that.»
I was silent; I hadn’t heard him and was staring at the wooden carving of a Native American Indian girl by the bar.
«Hmmmm… ‘scuse me?»
David waited for a moment.
«Girl, are you deaf?» he shouted in my ear.
«Oh! Sorry?»
«What were you thinking about?»
«Um… stuff.»
«’Bout your boyfriend?»
«No.»
«Really? You’re not even thinking about all that stupid romantic shit and your, like, dates together?
«I don’t have a boyfriend.»
David Ogden’s look expressed surprise. He yawned again and looked at me. That is, at my hands, which firmly held my glass of lemonade.
«You have funny fingers.»
«Why do you say that?» I asked, my face lighting up with a smile.
«They’re like a child’s! Do you play the piano?»
«Yep.»
«Ha! Knew it!»
He went back to his whiskey and, several minutes later, exclaimed:
«Seriously?»
«Seriously… what?»
«You don’t have a boyfriend?»
«Do you think I’d lie?» I grumbled, studying the dancing bubbles in the liquid behind the clear glass.
«Hm. No shit! So how old are you?»
«What would you say?»
«Sixty-five.» He smiled the stupid smile of a drunk macho man. «You’re not offended or anything, are you?»
«No, not at all!»
«Well, that’s good. These days, seems like everyone I meet is humorless.»
«Somehow I’m not surprised.»
David lowered his head onto the bar and closed his eyes. I looked sideways at him, and the thought that a hole in his sweatshirt reminded me of a quasar made me smile. However, in five minutes he screamed at the top of his lungs:
«TWENTY!» and slammed his glass down on the table.
«David, please trah to pull yerself together,» Nick whispered.
«You’re twenty! Right?» he went on, ignoring Nick and my own fit of coughing.
«M-hm.» I nodded.
«What do you mean ‘m-hm’? Don’t tell me you’re offended.»
«Nope! Just trying to enjoy the moment.»
«Enjoy? The moment? In this shithole? Are you insane?»
I got up, took my glass and went to my room. His eyes followed me. And no, he wasn’t drunk: his gaze was sober. For some reason, I suddenly recalled the moment when David Ogden fell down and left the bar. There was something about the stern look in his light-brown eyes.
I guess I fell asleep in the easy chair without noticing. But that didn’t last long: wild shouts, cursing and a tremendous crash shook the floorboards beneath me.
«Christ! What else could be happening down there?» I whispered, leaving my room and crouching on the staircase. That was when I noticed a group of adult men beating up a young guy who lay on the floor.
It was David Ogden. They seized him by the sweatshirt and threw him onto the dance floor, shattering the vase. It seemed that at any moment a perfectly imperturbable sheriff with his loyal sidekick would arrive, but just then Nick bolted out of the bathroom, buttoning up his pants.
«What the hell is going on here? Are you outta yer minds? Idiots! A bunch of you old farts decided to beat up a boy? Goddammit, what the hell happened?!»
«This punk here is a thieving bastard!»
«I was trying to leave my money on the table, not steal it, you idiot! Why the hell would I want to steal my own money?»
«What were you doin’ touchin’ mah money?»
«Look, douchebag, I didn’t touch your money! It was my goddamn money!» yelled David and took another hit in the face.
«You’d better quiet down this minute, before I take out the lot of you!» Nick aimed a hunting rifle at them. «Now go home, you miserable drunks, or else my dog’ll have your tongues for breakfast!»
The entire crowd dispersed and only David and Nick remained. I slowly descended and froze at the sight of them.
«My apologies fer the ruckus. Ah believe we may have woken you?» Nick inquired politely.
«I wasn’t asleep.»
He went over to David and helped him up.
«You’d better sit down and tilt your head back. You’re bleeding.» I said, pointing to his nose.
«Do as yer told, tilt yer head back,» grumbled Nick.
«Quite a classy clientele you’ve got, Nick.» David looked at me. «You don’t count.»
They began righting chairs and tables, and I helped.
«Where you crashin’ tonight?» Nick turned to David.
«None of your business.»
«Son, please. Stay here.»
«Nope.»
«Why not?»
«I said no!»
«Alright, then would you at least do me the great honor of tellin’ me where yer goin’?»
David was silent and tugged at his torn sweatshirt.
«David, I won’t be takin’ any o’ yer money.»
«Nicholas, you old bastard! I don’t plan on owing people for my whole life! Got it? Everywhere I go I owe someone something. Here, at least, could you just let me chill out and be alone?» He tripped on a chair and fell over.
We ran over and helped him to his feet.
«What are you, deaf? You need to sit in that chair and tilt your head back,» I said harshly, tilting his head back and pressing a tissue from my pocket under his nose.
David stared at me, hard.
«Yer stayin’ here tonight!» Nick declared, his tone final.
«Your nose doesn’t look that long, Nick, but you’re always sticking it where you shouldn’t!»
I washed my hands in the sink behind the bar and stopped by the staircase, looking at David. His gaze slowly retreated.
«Fine. I’ll stay.»
«There are yer keys. I won’t be dragging you to yer room now. You can haul yer scrawny ass up there and git some sleep, goddammit!»
David took the keys and went up, his pace slowing as he walked past me.
«Hmph! That boy’ll fall into his own grave one of these days,» grumbled Nick and turned to me. «Thanks honey. I can take it from here.»
«Good night.»
«Lord! That doesn’t exist round here, but thanks anyway. You too!»
I returned to my room and sank into my easy chair. I sat, my eyes wide, and gazed out the window. The