Beer and Ice Cream
I could tell the stranger had been on some journey to get here. He slurped at his beer, clearly a man in need. I stroked at the condensation on my ice-cold glass with my index finger.
‘Long trip?’
‘Hellish, but I’m here now,’ said the man.
He stood resplendent in his pinstripe suit as he threw his trilby hat on the bar. We both looked at the elevator door in the corner of the room.
‘Slowest elevator I have ever seen,’ I remarked.
‘It’ll get here soon enough. It knows we’re waiting.’
I ordered another beer and one for my new companion. The barman said nothing as he nodded. A handle-bar moustache hung onto his top lip; his firmly greased-down hair parted at the centre. I noticed a large clock with a missing hand on the wall. A black crow sat patiently in a cage at the end of the bar. A train rumbled overhead as the barman poured the drinks. The crow squawked once as the elevator moved one floor closer. The stranger raised his glass. I noticed the top of his left hand was heavily bruised as he conveyed his thanks to me.
‘Very kind of you, Salud!’
I opened my wallet and saw the picture. I pulled it out. My parents smiled back at me, my siblings by their side. The stranger took a step closer to me.
‘It’s amazing how one picture can play back a whole reel of memories.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The brain, it’s a very powerful thing.’
He glanced at the picture in my hand,
‘The ice cream days, if only we could go back, eh?’
‘I guess so,’ I replied.
He moved closer; my brow grew sweaty under his glare.
‘The sweetness and brevity of youth is much like an ice cream, don’t you think? One minute, it’s in your hands, all delicious and exciting; the next, it’s all melted away. The secret, of course, is to make sure you devour it before it melts.’
‘I haven’t thought of it like that.’
The stranger moved closer, his words deeper,
‘Few people do. Such a travesty. Tell me, are you a good man, my friend?’
‘I think I am. At least, I hope I am.’
He laughed loud, the roar of ten lions. I noted the large gold tooth among his otherwise perfect smile.
‘Hope? Hah, there isn’t any room for hope in this place!’
The barman smiled at his words; the crow squawked again. The elevator moved one floor closer as another train ran its course above. Dust fell from the shelves as the room shook.
‘What about you? Are you a good man?’ I asked.
He placed his almost empty glass down. ‘For me, it’s more a case of trying not to be bad. I can be so devilish at times!’
The laughter spilled out of him again as he tilted his head back. The lighting above him reflected the nugget in his smile. His animation grew.
‘You mention hope? Let me tell you something, my newfound friend. The last vestige of hope is often covered in sin and regret. Yet it clings to the edges of despair. It refuses to be extinguished, even if it faces overwhelming odds.’
The lights suddenly dimmed, and the room shook harder as another train arrived above. It screeched to a halt. The clock on the wall suddenly chimed. The crow let out the loudest of cries.
‘Time, gentlemen, please!’ shouted the barman.
The elevator had reached its destination; the doors slid open. I got up and faced the stranger,
‘That’s us then, I guess?’
The stranger smiled back,
‘Yeah, buddy, that’s us.’
I walked to the elevator and delicately stepped in. As I turned to face the doors they had already shut. The stranger was gone. I shivered at the cold that now enveloped me.