Brothers in Arms

By Jack O'Riley

THREE YOUNG MEN UNWITTINGLY UNLEASH A WAVE OF VIOLENCE AND HILARITY WHICH PERPLEXES AND HORRIFIES THE CITY, BUT ULTIMATELY CREATING AN EVERLASTING BROTHERHOOD OF ROGUES AND MISFITS.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack O'Riley
• Release date: Aug 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9780981768267

Book preview

Part One

1

In the far corner along the back wall was the only dim unlit spot in the whole bar. Arty reached out for his glass and drank down the last of his beer. He set the glass down and sat back, shrouded in the darkness. Leo stood up and grabbed the pitcher and refilled their glasses. He looked at Arty and smiled. They’re going down good, he said. Aren’t they?

Yeah but I think we should pick it up a bit though, Arty said.

You wanna do some shots?

Tequila!

Yeah, Leo said. Let’s wait for Francis though. He’ll pay for ‘em.

Francis ambled to the foot of the table and looked down at Arty and smiled a big drunken smile. Did you see who’s here, he asked.

Arty shook his head. Alison, he said.

You should go talk to her.

Arty pushed out of the shroud and reached for his beer. No way, he said. He drank half the glass and set it down and held it while Leo refilled it. He took the glass and sat back in the darkness.

Why not?

Because I don’t want too, Arty whined. I haven’t talked to her in so long— I don’t know what to say to her.

Just say hello.

No.

Come on Arty! Go talk to her.

I’m not gonna talk to her, Arty said. I don’t have the foggiest idea what to say.

Its simple, Francis said. You just say hello.

And what happens when I say hello! The angels in the choir invisible appear from out of heaven and everything turns to fuckin’ gold and all is well? This isn’t a fuckin’ movie Francis!

Francis laughed.

Arty looked out from the shadows and watched Alison through Francis’s akimboed arm. Did you talk to her, he asked. Has she seen you?

Please Arty, Francis begged. Go talk to her. Do it for me. Remember how I had to talk her into going out with you in the first place?

Arty bent forward and rubbed the palms of his hands over his face. He looked up, weary and disheveled. Even if I go talk to her I’m not nearly drunk enough to go yet, he said.

You wanna do some shots? I’ll pay for ‘em if you go say hello to her?

Do it, Leo said.

Okay. I’ll do it. But after the shots.

What do we want then boys, Francis asked proudly.

Tequila, Leo said.

Tequila?

Yeah but its gonna take more than one, Arty said. Maybe two or three’s gonna be needed to do the trick.

Jesus Christ I’m not drinking three shots of tequila, Francis said.

Order ‘em, Leo said. He blushed and smiled wide. We’ll pound ‘em down.

I’ll get two rounds, Francis said. You two can fight over my extra. He looked fiercely at Arty. Then you gotta quit being bullshit bashful and talk to her! He turned quickly and walked away.

Leo backhanded Arty softly across the chest. I told you he’d buy, he said. Now we’re really gonna get shitfaced! He wrapped his lips around the straws sticking out of his glass and sucked until he heard gurgling. Now we’re gonna have some fun!

Arty smiled sadly. I don’t know, he said. I wish I had your enthusiasm— because I have a feeling something weird’s gonna happen.

Hopefully, Leo said.

A bubbly waitress with a huge phony smile stuck her head over their table and asked if they needed anything. We want four tequila shots, Leo said. He pointed to himself and Arty. Two for each of us!

Yeah, Arty said. With limes.

Alright, she said. I’ll be right back. She walked to the next table and took an order before going to the bar. They watched her meander through the labyrinth of tables and pushed out chairs. Leo turned to Arty and shared a smile.

Francis came walking carefully, biting his lip in concentration as he carried a tray of six shots, a full pitcher of beer, and a napkin full of limes. He giggled as the beer spilt over the sides of the pitcher. He set them gently on the table and fell into his chair with faux exasperation. For a second there I didn’t think I was gonna make it, he said.

We ordered more, Leo said proudly.

What!

We ordered two more each.

Jesus! I’m not drinking two more, Francis said. Unlike you dimwits I’m actually having a good time.

I’m having a good time, Leo said.

Oh I’m sure you are, Francis said sarcastically. But now you’re gonna get shitfaced and everything’s gonna go to shit for you.

No it isn’t, Leo said confidently. I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about. Everything’s gonna be just fine. We’re gonna loosen up and I’m gonna wander around with you and talk to chicks. What could go to shit?

Francis pulled his chair close to the table and smiled suspiciously. With you— plenty could go to shit, he said. That’s why I like you though. He laughed and divvied up the shots among them. Well let’s get to it! I’ve got girls to talk to too. And so does Arty, he said sternly. He pushed the two shots closer to Arty.

Each reached in and lifted a glass and clanked them together. Here’s to Arty and liquid courage, Francis said. May he find the courage to get the girl! And if he doesn’t— may he at least find the courage to get rejected like a man.

Here here, Leo said.

Shut up, Arty said quietly.

They drank down the shots and reached for the limes on the tray and sucked them. Francis was too far away to pat Arty on the shoulder so he reached down and clenched his thigh. I’m just giving you shit Arty, he said. I love you man!

They picked up the next glasses and lifted them and clanked them together. Francis looked hard at Leo. And here’s to weird shit happening, he said.

Here here, Leo said.

They drank them and reached for the limes again and sucked them again. The waitress appeared at the table with a full tray. She was surprised to find a table full of drinks.

You still want these, she asked.

Yeah, Leo said. He sat sideways in his chair and started pulling crumpled bills from his pockets.

She set the shot glasses on the table. Francis watched curiously, amused. He ripped the crumpled bills out of Leo’s hand and tossed them on the waitress’s tray. There’s your tip, he said. Just put them on my tab. These two moron’s don’t have any money. So take that tip thankfully— its probably all the cash he has.

No it isn’t, Leo said defensively.

She hesitated and smiled awkwardly then went to the next table.

You gonna go say hello now, Francis asked.

I got two more to drink, Arty said. I gotta loosen up a bit more. God quit pressuring me. I’m trying to buck myself up and you gotta fuckin’ belittle me!

Francis threw up his hands defensively. Sorry, he exclaimed. Why don’t I go ahead and mingle and leave you two to do your drinking then. He pushed away from the table and walked away.

Arty and Leo lifted their glasses and clanked them together and drank them and sucked on the limes. Oh my god, Leo said. That one hit the spot. Now I really feel loose! How ‘bout you?

Arty shrugged his shoulders rhythmically. I’m getting there, he said. I’m starting to feel it. He looked over the table and watched Alison with her friends, dancing and laughing along the bar. I don’t know though.

What’s her name, Leo asked soberly.

Alison.

She’s fuckin’ hot.

I know.

How long did you go out with her?

Three years I think. Then she dumped me.

You know— fuck her, Leo said. He lifted his last tequila shot. Here’s to us Arty. Here’s to new best friends and not caring what some stupid chick thinks of us. Or the whole world for that matter! Arty lifted his glass and drank it too. Leo reached for a lime and laughed. Oh my god! That was perfect. He twisted his neck and stretched it to the side, feeling the drunken warmth creep into his head. I feel amazing! Loosy-goosy. I feel like dancing now.

Go ahead, Arty said.

Leo drank from his beer and filled the glass to the top. I’m gonna walk around and find Francis— maybe hit the dance floor. You gonna go talk to that girl?

Arty shrugged. Yeah I guess I have too, he said. I’ll have a few more beers. Hopefully I’ll figure out what to say.

Okay then, Leo said. He stood up with a slight stumble taking care not to spill. I’ll be back when my glass is empty. He meandered through the tables and chairs toward the dance floor.

Arty knew his place and sat back in the shadows, warm and drunk. He watched her as she laughed and enjoyed her friends. He tried not to be jealous but only think of the loss for love’s sake. The new warmth crept up his spine and swamped his mind. All the sickening submerged memories which followed her presence began to soften and mix with the loose numbness slithering through his muscles. He was lost and totally absorbed in grief and cherished remembrance.

A cute girl with long red hair, wearing a black evening dress and carrying an open-ended wicker basket full of roses appeared next to him, and smiled. Would you like to buy a rose, she asked. She spoke gently but loud enough to be heard over the music. He pushed his face out of the shadows and stared at her like he didn’t understand. Would you like to buy a rose?

Ah— yeah, he said. An idea popped in his head. His eyes lit up, startling the girl. Yeah I want one! How much are they?

Ten dollars.

She watched as he struggled to pull two crumpled five dollar bills from his jeans. He took them out and straightened them by running them along the edge of the table. He smiled childishly and handed her the bills. They’re nice and smooth now, he said.

Thank you, she said. She put the bills in a little purse inside the basket and turned back. What color would you like?

What?

What color would you like!

What colors do you have!

She put the basket on the table in front of him and delicately filed through the roses. We’ve got red, pink, white, purple— and an orange one.

I’ll take the orange one, he exclaimed. He laughed. I’ve never actually seen an orange rose before. I don’t think so anyway.

She recognized Arty’s innocence and broke from the shy girl routine and turned to him, sweetly. Its weird too, she said. We’ve never got orange ones before— just red, pink, white, and purple during the football season. I think maybe the florist just had one left that she wanted to get rid of so she slipped it in. She handed it to him. Her smile grew big and sweet.

He held the rose and stared with drunken eyes, pondering its meticulous delicacy. Lucky me I guess, he said. He brought it carefully to his nose and smelled it. Smells good! Its really nice. Thank you.

You’re welcome, she said. She took up her basket and went to the next table.

Arty sat back in the corner and admired the rose with drunken sublime. He held it in front of his face and twisted the stem. He switched focus and watched Alison. She wore a backless blouse which bared her tanned slender shoulders. He remembered waking, cuddled next to her, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck. They would lie in bed all morning and laugh. They would talk and make love. He would make her laugh. Then one day she didn’t want that anymore.

Leo appeared as if from nowhere and fell into his chair and stared at Arty. He was breathless. He panted heavily and laughed. Its kind of crazy out there, he said. I almost spilled my beer! I had to slam it to save it! He filled his glass and took a quick drink. Hey you got a rose! Gonna give it to that girl?

Arty shook his head and smiled. I figured it’ll be a good will gesture or something, he said. Maybe it’ll break the ice.

I’m sure it will, Leo said. I heard girls like flowers. He laughed. I heard they like scars too but it never seemed to help me. He slapped his knee, laughing, and stood bolt upright. He drank from his glass and refilled it quickly. I can’t sit anymore! I’m starting to spin. I’m heading back out there.

Okay.

I’m gonna try to find Francis again. He was talking to some hotties!

Arty wallowed. He drank two quick glasses of beer. He took the rose and followed a haphazard pathway through the tables and walked down a short hallway to the bathroom and stumbled in. The bright fluorescent lights made him dizzy. He wandered to the back of the room and entered an open stall and locked himself in. He placed the stem of the rose in his mouth and unbuttoned his jeans and pissed in the toilet. A few minutes later he emerged, buck naked, his clothes neatly folded under his arm. He carried his shoes with his fingertips. The rose stem was clenched, harmlessly between his teeth. He left the bathroom and walked down the hallway. Two guys combing their hair saw his naked body pass in the mirror. They looked at each other and laughed.

Arty set the bundle of clothes on the first table he passed and continued meandering through the tables until he came to the bar. All heads turned. Alison sensed the eerie silence hush over the crowd. She turned and found Arty grasping the bar rail, handing her the rose.

Arty!

Here you are Alison, he said. His drunken voice slurred.

Arty?

Here I am, he said. I am completely naked. I have nothing to give to you but this rose— which I am giving you…

One of the proud confident members of her cadre jumped out and punched Arty in the cheek. You weird motherfucker, he screamed. Arty’s head twisted. His body reeled. Another fist struck his ear. He fell forward, face first into the floor.

Alison yelled his name.

Her friend stood tall and straddled over him and poured closed fists into the back of his head. Alison screamed and pulled at her friend’s shirt, begging him to stop.

Leo and Francis came running to the rescue and jumped on her friend’s back. He raised his body and for a moment held their weight, swaying, until the momentum caused him to collapse on top of Arty. Leo lost his grip and tumbled over the pile and knocked over two barstools. Francis quickly tightened his hold around the friend’s neck. Furiously, he squeezed and twisted, desperately trying to roll him off Arty. Two more of Alison’s friends jumped in and grabbed and pulled at Francis. Leo rose to his feet and threw one of the fallen barstools. It hit one the friend’s and knocked him to the floor. Leo jumped over the pile into the arms of the one pulling at Francis. They wrestled and fell backwards over the pile. The one who was felled by the flying barstool regained his feet and took hold of Leo’s hair and yanked his head back. Leo groaned loudly. He reached backwards and grabbed the man’s wrists and pulled himself to his feet and started kicking the one he had been wrestling. The one Leo had been wrestling rolled over, evading Leo’s kicks. He pulled himself to his knees and quickly assumed a three point stance. He dashed forward and stuck his shoulder into Leo’s torso. All three of them toppled over Francis and crashed against the brass foot rail.

A group of bouncers arrived from the entrance. They found Arty prostrate, feebly attempting to pull himself from beneath the melee. The manager was leaning over the bar, pointing at Arty. Get that naked fucker out of here, he yelled. That stupid fucker started everything! The bouncers descended on the little mob. The big bouncer calmly reached down and grabbed hold of Arty under the armpit and pulled him free. He pulled Arty to his feet, expecting him to stand. But he was nearly unconscious. His legs slinked underneath him and fell. The big bouncer caught his upper arm and held him off the floor. Arty hung sideways in the bouncer’s grasp like a martyred apostle. His mouth and chin were smeared with blood. The thorns of the rose stem pierced his skin and stuck to his pale white pectoral. The orange blossom hung above the nipple like a corsage.

Let him go, Francis yelled.

He’s unconscious, the big bouncer said.

Get the fucker outta here, the Manager yelled.

Let him go!

He’s unconscious, the big bouncer repeated. Come and get him. We’re taking him out.

Francis pulled himself away and tumbled over the pile. He hopped up quickly and went to Arty and took hold of his free arm and helped the big bouncer drag him. They dragged him around the corner towards the entrance. Francis turned back. Leo, he yelled. Get his clothes!

The bouncers didn’t know who was fighting who, so they struggled to break up the melee. Leo grabbed a bouncer’s wrist and pulled his hair from his clutches. He tried to run away but the bouncer grabbed the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the entrance. One of Alison’s friends reached over the bouncer and swatted Leo in the head. The bouncer stopped. He turned and pushed the friend against the bar rail and yelled.

Grab his clothes, Francis yelled.

Where are they, Leo yelled. The bouncer pushed Leo. I need to get his clothes!

Where are they!

I don’t know!

One of the girls who sat at the table brought Arty’s clothes to the bar and handed them to Leo. Here they are, she said. She handed them over politely. He took them and dropped a shoe and bent over to pick it up but fell to his knees. He grabbed the shoe. The bouncer pushed him and Leo rolled over, clutching the clothes. He pushed himself to his elbows and climbed to his feet.

Come on, the bouncer said. Another bouncer pushed Leo forward. Get your ass outta here!

I’m going asshole!

As they approached the entrance the big bouncer stepped sideways and pushed his hip into the double doors and they flew open. Francis was preoccupied with Leo, so he was unaware of the big bouncer’s action and slow in holding open the other door and Arty’s head rammed it. Francis scrambled and pushed the door open, nearly falling. He ran and caught up with the big bouncer and dragged Arty over the frozen sidewalk.

Stand him up against the wall, Francis said. The big bouncer pulled Arty up with one arm and propped against the brick wall. I gotta get him dressed fast! Can you call a cab? The big bouncer hesitated. He stared at Francis suspiciously. We gotta get him out of here! Public nudity isn’t what it used to be. He could be considered a sex offender for this stupid shit! And the poor sap hasn’t got laid in years.

Okay, the big bouncer said calmly. I’ll call one.

Come on Arty, Francis begged. He slapped him lightly on the cheeks. Get with it! You gotta get dressed.

The doors opened and Leo flew out, pushed by a small posse of bouncers. He ran to Francis and dropped the clothes on the ground. We gotta get him dressed, Francis said. Leo put his hand squarely on Arty’s chest, avoiding the rose. We gotta hurry! Here take his jeans. I’m gonna lift his leg. You try to slip one leg over his foot. Francis stuck his shoulder into Arty’s belly to keep him propped against the wall. He took hold of Arty behind the knee and lifted his leg. Leo ducked down and found the correct leg and scrunched it together and pushed over Arty’s bare foot. Push it up to his knee!

Its over his foot, Leo said. Just drop his leg and get the other one. We’ll be able to pull them up together.

Francis dropped the leg and picked up the other. Leo scrunched up the other leg of the jeans and tried to push it over the other foot. I can’t get it, Leo said. Move it this way— closer. Francis picked the leg up higher and moved it. Leo laughed. You’re touching his dick!

I know! So hurry! Arty began to speak, muttering incoherently. Come on wake up Arty! We gotta get you outta here.

A cab’s coming, the big bouncer said. He smiled graciously.

Thank you, Francis said.

Leo pushed the scrunched denim leg up over Arty’s foot. I got it, he said. Let it down.

Francis dropped the leg. He stood up and placed his hand on Arty’s chest and held him against the wall. He grabbed the rose stem and flung it sideways. The doors flew open again and the manager rushed out. The police are on the way, he yelled. So you fuckers are gonna be in deep shit! Get off of my fuckin’ sidewalk!

Fuck you, Leo yelled.

Fuckin-a, Francis said. Come on Arty! You gotta wake up.

The manager stepped towards Leo. You wanna have it out you little fucker, he said. I’ll fuckin’ kill you!

Yeah, Leo said. He jumped up and stepped forward. I’ll fuckin’ go with you! You fuckin’ poser.

The manager stepped closer. Come on motherfucker, he yelled.

The big bouncer placed the palm of his hand on the manager’s chest and stopped him. They have a taxi coming, he said calmly. They’ll be outta here in a minute. And you’re making things worse. So please go back inside?

The manager tried pushing the hand away but wasn’t strong enough to budge it. The big bouncer stood solid and towered over him. He pushed the manager back a step. What are you doing, the manager asked firmly.

You’re making things worse, the big bouncer said calmly. I’ve got everything under control out here. So you’re gonna have to go back inside.

You better get your hand off of me!

Or what, the big bouncer asked. They stared hard into each other’s eyes. He pushed the manager back slowly until he was near the doors. I’ve got everything under control and I don’t want you on my sidewalk. The manager glared into his eyes and gritted his teeth and went inside and walked away.

He can fire you, another bouncer said.

This isn’t the first row we’ve had. This is just a part time job. He glanced at his colleague with a faint smile. Besides my wife’s pregnant again. So my days of bouncing are coming to an end anyway.

Leo and Francis pulled at the belt loops and pulled the jeans over Arty’s knees and over his thighs. Francis put his arm around the back of Arty’s neck and pulled his butt away from the wall. They pulled the jeans up, over his hips. Francis let him fall back against the wall. He pulled the waistband tightly and buttoned it together. They stood in front of him and stared at his penis hanging out of his unzipped fly, laughing.

His dick’s hanging out, Leo said.

No shit!

Put it in!

You put it in!

You already touched it!

Where’s his underwear?

Leo pointed to the underwear protruding from Arty’s front pocket, like a handkerchief. Francis pulled it out quickly and used it to touch Arty’s penis and pushed it into his jeans. He left the underwear inside the fly, not willing to risk another accidental touch.

The hard part’s over, Francis said laughing. Get his shirt.

Arty lifted his hand and rubbed his face and looked at them, puzzled. What’re you doing, he muttered. He groaned and all the muscles in his body contorted monstrously. What’s happening?

Shut up, Francis said. You just got your stupid ass kicked and we’re trying to help you get out of here before you get arrested!

What?

Francis took hold of one of his arms and lifted it. Lift your other arm, he said. We gotta get your shirt on! Arty looked at him, unable to understand what he meant. Put your goddamn arm up! Leo grabbed it and raised it. He held the thin sweater high over Arty’s head and lowered it over his hands and down around his arms. They pulled it down in unison. Arty’s head went easily through the neck hole and they pulled the shirt over his chest and it fell naturally. Good job Arty! That went much better than I thought it would. Now get his shoes!

Leo was already kneeling on the ground loosening the laces. He pulled out the tongue of the right shoe. Put your foot up, he said.

Francis grabbed him behind the knee and lifted his leg and Leo slipped on the shoe. Francis dropped the leg and lifted the other one and Leo slipped on the next shoe. He pulled the laces tightly so they wouldn’t fall off.

In the distance police sirens blared.

Here comes the taxi, the big bouncer said.

Francis looked into the street and seen it was a block away, driving slowly. Its blinker was indicating it was parking at the curb. Good, Francis said. Perfect timing. I think those sirens are for us. They took Arty by the arms and led him away from the wall. Let’s get him to the curb so we can get going right away!

Alison walked out of the doors. Arty, she cried. Tears streamed down her eyes. What are you doing?

Fuck off Alison, Francis said. Haven’t you fucked with him enough! He nearly stepped on the rose and bent down quickly and picked it up and flung it at her. Here! Here’s your fuckin’ flower! It hit her across the chest. She caught it and held it out and cried.

Francis let go of him a moment and his body swayed without the support. Leo gripped tighter and kept him from falling. Francis motioned the taxi and it parked in front of them. He opened the back door. Leo pulled Arty along and sat in the backseat. Francis put his hand on top of Arty’s head and pushed him down. Get in, he said. We gotta go! Leo slid across the seat and pulled at Arty. Arty sat and slid to the middle and cozied next to Leo. Francis sat down and pushed at Arty. We’re going home. We’re getting out of here.

I fucked up, Arty muttered.

You sure did, Francis said. Francis still had one leg out of the vehicle. He held the door open. Where’s your wallet? And your phone?

My pockets, he muttered.

They felt his pockets and found them along with his socks. The police sirens became closer.

Francis pulled his leg inside and shut the door. Okay, he said. We can go. He jostled with Arty for elbow space.

The driver turned and looked at Arty. He looked at Francis. I can’t take a passenger like that, he said. You guys know that. He’s bleeding. He needs an ambulance. And by the sound of it he’s in trouble.

Come on, Francis begged. The guy got his ass kicked. I think the Goth girl he was talking to ruffied him— because he started taking off his clothes and jumping off chairs and shit. That’s why he got jumped. He lifted Arty’s face towards the driver. Arty blinked, confused. He’s got a bloody lip is all. I think most of the blood is from the other guy’s knuckles. Come on. He could get sexual misconduct charges for being naked in public. And it would be a shame because he couldn’t even get laid by a prostitute. And I think most of it was this dumb girl’s fault. He pointed at Alison with his thumb. She stood outside the door with rose clutched gently and cried.

The driver looked to her and felt pity. Maybe I should take him to the hospital, he said. You know I’ve got a responsibility.

I know but…

I’m okay, Arty muttered. He pushed Francis’s hand away. He leaned forward and put his head on his knees. It began to throb at the temples. He wove his hands around the back of his head and held himself tightly. I’m so fuckin’ stupid. The words muffled through his legs. I’m so fuckin’ stupid.

You’re okay though, the driver asked.

Arty lifted his head and looked into the driver’s eyes. Yeah I’m okay, he said. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just need to go home. He put his head down again and rewove his fingers behind and closed his eyes.

Please go, Francis begged. I’ll give you an extra fifty dollars.

The driver suspiciously moved his eyes from Arty to Francis. Fifty dollars, he asked. Okay. But you’re cleaning up any blood or vomit if he pukes.

Will do, Francis said.

The driver turned around and adjusted the steering wheel. He put the transmission in drive and waited for traffic. Francis rolled down the window. Alison stepped forward to speak. He stuck his arm out and gave her the middle finger. Shut the fuck up, he said. Get your ass back in the bar! The driver accelerated and steered into the open lane and sped off.

Arty began to cry. He cupped his hands over his eyes and pushed his face into his lap. Francis put his hand on his friend’s back and rubbed it kindly.

Can we smoke in here, Leo asked.

No you can’t.

Ah— that’s okay, Leo said. I don’t have any cigarettes anyway.

Leo also put his hand on Arty’s back. He looked at Francis sadly. They shared a frown with each other and fell back exhausted and sober. The adrenaline had destroyed their buzz. Arty’s crying slowly died down until he was quiet and sleeping. They listened peacefully to the soft music the driver was playing.

You feeling better, Francis asked.

They didn’t receive an answer, only loud wheezy breathing. They looked at each other again and giggled.

2

Francis swallowed the dregs of his beer and crimped the can and set it on the floor. He stood up and crushed it under his foot. You want another one, he asked.

Leo shook his head.

Francis opened the sliding glass door and entered the apartment. He walked through the living room past Arty sleeping in the recliner. He went in the kitchen and tossed the crushed can in the garbage. He took the last three beers from the fridge and stuffed them in his pockets. He walked back through the living room but stopped in front of Arty. He reached down and slackened the quilt and pulled it over his feet. Arty’s eye and cheek were reddened and slightly swollen. There was a great big knot on his forehead along the hairline. He watched his friend breathe, sympathetic. He pulled the quilt to Arty’s chin and snugged it around his shoulders. He went out to the balcony and handed Leo a beer and set the rest on the floor.

Thanks, Leo said. He took the can and set it in the mesh cup holder of the captain’s chair.

Francis groaned as he sat. He zipped up his jacket and raised the collar. Its getting pretty cold out, he said.

Leo took out his phone and touched the weather app. Its only seven below, he said. Jesus it feels colder than that.

We’re four stories up, Francis said. That makes a big difference. If there was any wind at all we wouldn’t be able to sit up here. He sat back comfortably and shivered away the cold. He reached down for a beer and opened it and took the first foamy drink. I’m really gonna miss sitting out here.

So am I.

You are?

Yeah. Its nice and peaceful up here. Its like I’m losing the only place I enjoy— social life wise.

I didn’t know you felt that way, Francis said. You can still come to the house and drink on the patio.

Leo looked at him doubtfully. Yeah right, he said. What about Liza?

Liza’s cool, Francis said. She won’t care.

Leo looked out over the snow covered lake. I’ll never get to look out at this lake again, he said. Man— we drank a lot of beer up here. I love watching the girls jogging and rollerblading. He took a long drink and finished the beer and sighed. He set the empty can on the floor and opened the new one. He brought it to his lips and sucked off the foam. When are you moving into the house?

I’m pretty much moved in already as you can see, Francis said. I’m keeping a few things in here until the lease is up. Because I’m gonna make use of it. My bachelor days aren’t done yet. So we got the balcony until April. He laughed loudly. She stayed at the house with her sister tonight. She was texting me all night but I never answered once. So she’ll probably barge in here in the morning in a tizzy. So get ready to be wakened by screaming and yelling.

Where’s she gonna be tomorrow?

They’re all going over to her parents’ house. The whole thing’s kinda stupid— but we do get to break-in the house. Did you know they left the Ping-Pong table?

That’s what you were saying. I’m looking forward to it.

The basement has a little rec room with a little bar and everything, Francis said proudly. You’ll probably be able to make some money tomorrow. Addy’s gonna be there. He laughed and drank his beer. There’s gonna be some of his kindred spirits too.

Shit. Those dipshits always get so worked up.

I know. I’m looking forward to it.

Leo hesitated before taking a drink and laughed. Fuckin’ Addy hates me, he said.

Oh yeah, Francis said. He despises you. He’s got a mean pride and you seem to tweak him somehow. He lives in his own little world and I think he believes he’s the greatest most brilliant thing in it.

I’m gonna beat his ass all over the table.

Do it! Really shake it up. Taunt him and trash talk him. Because he’ll freak out!

I’ll do it. I don’t have a problem fuckin’ with Addy. Its extremely entertaining.

Just remember that most of them are actually Liza’s friends’ husbands— or boyfriends. So I gotta play it cool you know. I’m already gonna get bitched out for inviting you. Not to mention for tonight.

What? You’re gonna get in trouble?

No not really, Francis said. Its considered a couples shower though. I only agreed to it cause the guys get to drink beer and play games and shit without the women most of the day.

So Liza’s gonna be pissed at me, Leo asked. And then you want me to get everyone else riled up against me for your entertainment? And you’re not gonna help me out?

Francis laughed. No— I’ll stick up for you, he said. But I can’t be on your side— per se. He took a drink. Hey! Arty’ll probably help! He owes you that.

They turned and watched Arty through the glass door. They laughed. I’ve never seen anything like that before, Leo said. He’s crazy. I like him.

Yeah I knew you would, Francis said. The quilt slowly raised and lowered as Arty breathed. He was so much fun back in college. Its too bad you couldn’t have hung out with him then. He turned and leaned forward and looked out over the lake. Tonight was different though. There was something frightening about it. Something totally desperate you know? It was almost suicidal. He turned back and looked through the door. I’m kind of worried about him.

It did seem reckless, Leo said. Like there was no way out— but getting crushed.

It wasn’t just the good college boy stunts. It was just bad. Just plain bad. Terrible! He took a long drink of beer. I hope he’s okay. I don’t know.

Who was the girl?

Alison. They dated for a long time. She was a lot of fun too. Then she just pulled the rug out from under him. I guess she needed someone more mature or something. That’s understandable. It didn’t look like any of those guys were her significant other or anything though?

No.

The dumbass is so stupid. He gets so awkward and insecure around women. He could’ve probably just went up to her and said hello and got back together. But then he just goes quiet and gets drunk and ends up chasing them like a chicken with his cut off.

Really?

Francis shook his head. Alison was different though, he said. She was weird like him. She really made him happy.

They stayed on the balcony until there was one beer left. Leo picked it up and opened it and held it out between them. He looked at the temperature on his phone. Its eleven below and this is the last beer, he said.

You wanna share it?

Of course. That’s why I’m holding it out like this.

Okay.

3

Liza stood at the side of the bed and watched Francis sleep. She wrestled her sadistic urges and kicked the bed, hard. Wake up Francis, she said loudly. Wake up Francis! She continued to kick the bed. The headboard cracked against the wall. Wake up Francis! She stepped up and jumped around the mattress. Wake up Francis!

He pulled his head from the blankets and looked at her. He rubbed his eyes and blinked away the morning blindness. What, he whined. Knock it off. He laid back down and pulled the blankets over his head and twisted and cuddled the pillow.

Wake up!

Quit it Liza.

She continued to jump. I thought you weren’t going out, she asked.

We weren’t.

It sure the hell looks like you did.

We did.

After you said you weren’t?

Francis coughed away drunk morning phlegm as he tried to speak. I worked hard to convince Arty to come out, he said. So I felt obliged to take him.

Well— get up, she said. She jumped to the floor. Its past ten. Time to get the ball rolling.

Come here and cuddle with me a bit, he begged.

No way, she said. I’m actually pretty pissed. I was texting you all night. Did you forget your phone?

I was just ignoring you all night.

You fuckin’ asshole. I was getting worried.

He pushed the blankets away and reached for her quickly. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed and rolled on top. He looked deeply into her eyes. Things got a little ugly last night, he whispered sincerely.

What happened?

She relaxed and became submissive so he rolled off her. He laid on his side and put his head on the pillow and looked at her. He pulled the blankets to his chin. Things got crazy, he said. Arty’s ex-girlfriend from college was at the bar.

He has an ex-girlfriend?

Francis shook his head. They were pretty hot and heavy back in the day, he said. He was genuinely in love with her. I think he’s a hopeless romantic kind of person. And as cool and fun as she was— she up and dumped him. It obviously hit him harder than even I thought.

She broke his heart? Ah— that’s so sad.

Don’t be sarcastic. It is sad.

I’m not being sarcastic, she said. She rolled on her side and looked into his eyes.

Anyway, he said. He proceeded to get absolutely shitfaced. Then he bought a rose from the flower girl so as to give it to her— mostly because I was pressuring him to go talk to her. So when I had my back turned he goes to the bathroom and takes off all his clothes and then walks buck ass naked through the bar.

Liza’s eyes bulged. Shut up, she said.

God’s witness Liza.

Oh my god. Then what happened?

He gave her the rose.

Really?

Yeah, he coughed. Then a few of her friends jumped him. They kind of kicked the shit out of him too. Leo and I got right in the middle of it and helped him out. He paused and laughed softly. We were just wrestling around on top of Arty. It was more of a dog pile really.

That’s weird.

Yeah it is.

Her face grimaced. You’re not bringing them to the shower are you?

Of course I am.

Francis, she whined. This is a couple’s shower.

They are a couple, he said. He laughed. An ugly couple but probably the best one at the party. Besides they won’t be any trouble for you. You’re gonna be at your parents most of the day. And I think the whole thing is stupid anyway.

Its a couples shower Francis, she whined. I mean it wouldn’t be bad if they had girlfriends to bring along.

What about the cuntish Cassie?

She’s bringing her ex-boyfriend. I guess they’ve been talking. He’s coming up for the weekend. She said he had to scrap some extra money together to get a bus ticket cause he couldn’t afford gas. I’ve never met him. So who knows what he’s gonna be like.

I thought she was fooling around with someone at work?

Yeah— Joey, she said. She sat up and hung her legs over the edge of the bed. I don’t really know what’s up with them. I kinda thought they were hot and heavy. But now she’s bringing this guy up for the weekend. So— who knows.

Francis sighed. I s’pose he doesn’t know anyone, he said. He stretched his arms and legs and let out a big yawn. Knowing cuntish Cassie she’ll probably just dump him off at the end of the driveway without so much of a thought as to introduce him to anybody.

Quit calling her that.

You treat my friends like fools and they’re easily a thousand times better than Cassie.

Shut up.

They are.

But they're so uncool.

The word you’re looking for is uncouth, he said. They’re actually extremely cool people. He pushed the blankets away and sat up next to her. It’ll be fine. He can hang out with Leo and Arty. He sounds like their kind of guy. Besides they’re gonna need some allies. Leo always stirs it up with Addy. Its gonna be great.

They better not.

He ignored her and walked to the bathroom and urinated. When he returned he dug quickly through the closet and dressed in flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt. I’m sure he needs a friend like Arty anyway, he said. If he’s desperate enough to spend his last dime on a bus ticket to come up and visit Cassie he’s gotta be in a bad way. And knowing her— she’s gonna cause a fight with him.

She doesn’t start fights.

He looked at her in disbelief. Bullshit, he said.

You’re an asshole Francis.

Oh yeah…

You’re still drunk aren’t you?

Maybe a little, he said. He smiled at her and yawned and stretched his arms and scratched his belly. He turned and left the room and walked into the living room and stood between his sleeping friends. Wakey! Wakey! Eggs and bakey! He went to the sliding glass doors and opened the curtain and the bright white winter light filled the room.

Arty pushed the quilt from his face. I’ve been up for like an hour, he said. I can’t fall back to sleep. He squinted and looked up at Francis. What time is it?

Nine according to the microwave, Francis said. He walked to Arty and stood over him. You don’t look so bad. He reached down and touched reddened swelling under Arty’s eye. Does that hurt?

A little.

He touched the knob on his forehead. How about that?

Kinda, Arty said. Not bad though. I feel like shit otherwise.

Like hung-over or embarrassed?

Both! I have a horrible headache. And I don’t know if its because I’m hung-over or if I have a concussion. He smiled sadly. I feel terrible— emotionally beaten up because I don’t know which.

Francis laughed sympathetically. I don’t think you got hit that hard, he said. You were just shitfaced and out went the lights. A hummingbird could’ve knocked you out.

Liza came into the room and stood behind Francis and looked down at Arty. I heard you were running around the bar naked, she said.

Arty pulled the quilt over his face. Jesus I feel stupid, he said. You didn’t put this on Facebook or anything?

Francis laughed. No, he said. I worked my ass off so you wouldn’t get into trouble. I’m not about to advertise it on Facebook.

Leo rolled off the couch and hustled by without acknowledging anyone and locked himself in the bathroom.

You want a pick-me-up, Francis asked.

No.

I’m making you one anyway, Francis said. He walked into the kitchen and dug the Bloody Mary mix from the refrigerator. You’ll feel better.

Are you talking Red Beers or Bloody Marys?

Bloody Marys. We don’t have any beer left. Leo and I drank it all. You want one Liza?

No, she said forcefully. She looked at him like he was stupid.

Jesus you don’t have to be snide about it, he said. Simple polite no would’ve sufficed.

I’m not being snide.

Francis rolled his eyes. He went to the cupboard and took out a few glasses and filled them with ice.

Did you see Alison, Arty asked. He tightened the quilt around his face, fearing the answer.

Yeah, Francis said. We left her on the curb. She was crying. He poured vodka over the ice cubes. He shook the Bloody Mary mix. She was holding the rose and crying. I flicked her off as we drove away.

Arty pushed the quilt away. She got the rose though, he asked.

She