Page 150 of The 9th Man

“You know what I want, Timmy,” Peters said.

“Red Bull and gin it is.”

Luke said, “I thought I was the only one.”

“What’s that?” Peters said.

Luke raised his glass. “Red Bull G. You’re the first person I’ve run into that likes these things.”

“It’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure.”

“But once you start, you can’t stop, am I right?”

“Damn straight.”

Peters grabbed his drink and raised it in Luke’s direction. “Prost.”

“Salud.”

They drank in silence for a while. When Peters had downed his third Red Bull G, Luke bought him another. Peters returned the favor, then took the stool beside Luke. “You mind?”

“No, suit yourself.”

“I’m Lewis.”

“Tom,” he said.

“You American?”

He nodded. “I just broke up with my girlfriend. I needed to get away.”

“That sucks, man. Where’re you from?”

“Tacoma.”

“No kidding? I’m Seattle.”

“Native or transplant?”

“When I was in the army I did some training up in the Cascades. I fell in love with the place so when I got out I made the move from Phoenix.”

“Gorgeous country, if you don’t mind the rain,” he said. “Only one thing wrong with it.”

“What’s that?”

“Not enough Red Bull G lovers.”

Peters laughed. “Maybe we should start a support group.”

“We got the core membership right here.”

The evening wore on. Luke continued buying Peters’ drinks while nursing his own. He’d gradually learned that Peters’ boss was a hard-ass, resented by the crew, who liked to cruise from Florida, stay awhile at anchor, then cruise back. This time, though, they’d been told he might stay awhile. By 10:00P.M.Peters was wobbly on his stool and slurring his words.

“No, I’m telling ya, the Mariners bullpen is stronger than it’s been in ten years.”

“I hear you,” Luke said, “but do we have any strong finishers? That’s what we need if you ask me.”

“Fair point, fair point. Man, I’m blasted.”

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