Page 5 of A Little Discovery

Locking the door to my apparent oversized lawn decoration, I start the trek to the bar and pray that they’re open. If nothing else, I can wait in relative safety for the tow truck that will take my last two hundred dollars from me.

CHAPTER 4

LUCKY

The bar is more crowded than I expected based on the number of cars I could see out front. Of course, the door slamming behind me causes every eye to turn my way. As if I didn’t feel like enough of a loser, the bartender throws his rag down and stomps over to me.

This is just what I should expect. I am going to get kicked out of here and have to sleep in my car on the side of the highway where I will probably get crushed by a tractor trailer when the driver falls asleep at the wheel and…

“Who hurt you?” the voice in front of me growls out.

I look up, and I meanUPinto the face of the bartender and can’t stop my chin from wobbling. I’m just so tired of pretending I have my shit together. I just want to let go for once…

“Jace!” another voice rings out from across the room. “You’re scaring the kid, ya big oaf!”

The bartender, Jace, looks behind him and then back at me. He must see something on my face because he immediately crouches in front of me and does some sort of magic, transforming himself from fierce biker enforcer who will make you disappear for insulting his mama’s spaghetti sauce and becoming a cuddly teddy bear who can make all the boo-boos go away. I can’t handle the change and start to back away.

The car is looking like a better alternative to whatever this is. I know I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I get them multiple times a day now. I need to get away. They can’t see the real me. No one sees the real me… not anymore…

The bar is suspiciously silent as I try to keep everyone in my sights. They’re all staring at me. I feel like a freak show, just like Sabrina always says I am. They judge me without knowing me. They don’t want to know me. They just want to see the little trust fund boy make a fool of himself.

“Fuck!” a lady, no wait that’s a guy in drag, calls out. “Eli, you got a towel? My compact broke in my purse and I got my finger.”

I watch in horror as he starts to pull his hand out of the bag. If he needs a towel, that means there’s blood. I can’t stay and see it! I want to run, but my feet won’t move. I’m glued to the spot, frozen and locked on to the image of his arm slowly pulling free of the purse.

At the first sight of the garish red liquid, I feel the floaty sensation that precedes my body making fast friends with the floor. Glancing down, the only thought in my head is,at least it looks like they mop in herebefore my vision blacks out completely and I’m lost to the darkness.

***

I am not sure how much time passes before I regain consciousness, but the first sign that it wasn’t a dream is the fact that I hear arguing about whether or not to take me to a hospital.

“No hospital,” I manage to mumble before I can muster the energy to open my eyes. I’m still trying to catalogue what was real and what was my imagination before I passed out.

Based on the smell of stale beer and lemon cleaner, I can safely assume the bar is real. That means that the werewolf biker bartender and the drag queen are likely real as well… Well fuck a duck that’s just swell.

Laughter and giggles surround me before the voice I recognize as the drag queen speaks up, “He thinks you’re a werewolf, Jace.”

Another round of laughter and light slaps follow. The sounds make me want to see all of these people who are obviously good friends. I’ve never had that before… I don’t think I have even seen it outside of television before.

“There you are,” says a voice from above my head as I open my eyes. Tilting my head up, I see the man who had come out of the back room to scold the werewolf…er… bartender.

He puts his arms under my armpits to help me up into a sitting position while everyone else takes a few steps back. Looking around the room, it appears that the bar has emptied out except for these people. And they certainly look like an interesting bunch.

There’s the guy helping me. He looks like he’s a de-facto leader. There is something about him that makes me feel safe in a way that only Gramps ever did. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but judging by his soft smile, he is glad that I’m up and awake.

The giant bartender, Jace, is hanging back, trying to hide behind a guy half his size. He really does make me want to snuggle him, but not in a weird way. Now that he’s not all growly, he seems shy. Even with the tattoos and beard and scars, he looks like me passing out really scared him. The smaller guy in front of him turns around to wrap him up in a bear hug which brings a smile to the bigger man’s face.

The smaller guy looks like he belongs in front of a computer screen, big ole black plastic framed glasses and all. I don’t know what the relationship is between the two of them, but I’m not getting sexy vibes from them.

Same goes for the two guys to my right. They seem to be holding each other, but there’s only comfort vibes radiating off of them. I have to do a double take to make sure I’m not dreaming, but they are both wearing collars, like legit pet collars with tags. And is that a headband with dog ears?

I lay back down to close my eyes and count to ten. Thishasto be a dream.

“Ain’t no dream, sweetheart.”

I open my eyes and let out a squeak. The drag queen is in full regalia leaning over me. Apparently, I was out long enough for him to finish his makeup and wardrobe change.

“Kid, if you ain’t comfortable with what you’re seeing here, you came to the wrong place,” he says as he saunters off to perch on one of the bar stools. “Mac’s and Manor Drive ain’t for no small minded bigots.”

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