1
Thomas set down
his brandy for the umpteenth time that day, and began to try and tell Luke the
story of Edward, a story he hadn't really pieced all together himself yet. He
had over scrutinized some parts of it over the years, but it was like asking
someone to tell you what the whole eggs looked like before you had scrambled
them. You could remember the obvious,
like they were white and oval shaped, came out of a carton that held twelve
eggs. But could you remember which
three eggs you had picked out? Did any
of them have any cracks or blemishes on them?
Did the yokes stay in one piece, or did they break? Did you whip them clockwise or counterclockwise,
and how long did you stir them, etc.
It had been
almost thirty years. He was sure there
were probably some mental blocks of his own, perhaps some things just too
painful to remember. He might even
concede there were some things that his alcoholic mind couldn't quite piece
together after all these years. But the
truth of it was, there were parts that just hadn't made any sense, and those
were the ones he had tried to run from the most.
Yet he knew he
couldn't run from the truth any longer.
Jonathan was on his way to talk about Edward, Eddie as he called him,
and it wasn't to reminisce over old photo albums. With the return of Jonathan into the picture would come more
pieces to the puzzle that he had no interest in solving; more pain that he had
decided to ignore for the last twenty-five years, at least to the best of his
self-medicating alcoholic abilities.
Thomas glanced up at Luke, who remained
passive as ever, just waiting for him to continue. "Did I ever tell you that you were too good of a goddamned
listener?" Thomas said.
"No," said Luke, setting down his own brandy. "But I've never had anyone tell me quite as good a tale as you've started either, Tom. Besides, I've got a sneakin' hunch that you need to tell it a lot more than I need to hear it, but that's what us bartenders are good for."
"That may
be all too true my friend, just beware that you have opened a can of worms that
has been sitting in the sun for way too long."
Luke just
smiled, not a big grin, but one that seemed to say ‘I understand exactly
what you mean.’ He picked up
his mug again and took another sip.
"You ever been to a Korean whorehouse in July?"
"No. Have You?" Thomas asked, not knowing where this could possibly be leading.
"Just
once. But I haven't been afraid of a
can of worms since."
Thomas laughed
for a moment, glad for a break from the seriousness of the day. Luke really was the best of the best, he
thought. And without any further
interruption he continued his story.
"After
Edwina died, they kept Edward at the hospital for a while, which gave me a
chance to arrange for a funeral and to round up a baby sitter. Luckily for me, Edwina's sister Louise was
willing to come and stay for awhile, until I could get my feet back on solid
ground. She was basically my wife,
except for in the bedroom of course.
Thank God for that! Louise was
so ugly she could scare the horns off a bull just by lookin' sideways at it. Ornery too.
You'd never of known her and Edwina were sisters.
“She made everyone
toe the line, that's for sure, which was just as well. I never was one for all that domestic crap;
I had my hands full just running the farm.
The kids were too young to help out yet, and I had to let the only farm
hand I had go so I could pay Louise something.
It wasn't enough, that's for sure.
“She cooked and
cleaned, fed the kids, washed and ironed the clothes, and even gave me a
haircut every two weeks whether I needed one or not. I could always tell how the last couple of weeks had went by how
my hair looked afterwards.
“That went on
for about ten years. She stayed on a
lot longer than either of us had planned, which sent her to her grave way
before her time, God rest her soul."
"How's
that?" asked Luke, busy refilling the reservoir of the hidden brandy
dispenser while he listened.
Thomas took another sip of his brandy. He was surprised that he didn't seem to feel its effects at all. He decided to down the rest of the glass in one shot, and lit another cigarette.
"One day I
came home from going into town for some tractor parts, and I could tell she was
in a huff. She was bangin' pans around
and slammin' cupboard doors like there was no tomorrow. I asked her what was wrong, ‘cause I had
never seen her so upset. She told me
flat out that I had ‘till the end of the week to find someone to replace her,
and that was all she had to say. She
still wouldn't talk at dinner, in fact, after she laid out all of the meal she
excused herself for the evening without even eating. We never spoke again."
Luke grabbed
Tom's empty glass and reached down under the bar to refill it.
"Topped off
and working like a charm," stated Luke, as he wiped his hands off on his
apron. He handed Tom his drink back,
refilled his own, and began replacing the screws to the access panel.
"She was
that pissed off that she never talked to you again? Just like that?"
Luke asked.
"Not
exactly."
Thomas could
recall that day as if it were only yesterday.