The top two buttons were undone on his plum purple shirt and his tie was an inch from falling off. James didn’t notice either of these attributes about his disheveled appearance. The only item capturing his attention was the glass of honey beer mixed with a few shots of hard cinnamon whiskey. It was a nasty concoction. It did the trick of forcing unwanted thoughts out of his head and as of right now, all thoughts were unwanted.
“You son of a bitch. I knew I would find you here.” James turned at the familiar voice. His facial features didn’t change. There was no excitement from seeing his old friend, no surprise as to why he was half a world away from his family. There was nothing but the next drink. What did it matter if his surroundings had changed slightly. James turned back to his drink as his old friend Brian sat down in the empty seat next to him. Brian shook his head as he spoke.
“What happened to Ashley? Are you two still together?”
“No, she is gone.” James responded. His lack of interest in the discussion was evident by his monotone. His eyes never shifted away from the glass, concerned if he looked away it would vanish. If it disappeared then he would be forced to make the grueling trek back to reality. Brian was quiet. The silence stretched out. A sane person would consider it an uncomfortable silence, but James barely noticed the passing of time.
“That is it. I am done James. I can’t continue to watch you destroy yourself.” Without another word Brian pulled a couple of twenties from his pocket and slapped them down on the bar. He paused, thought for a moment, then pulled a couple more twenties from his wallet and tossed them beside the others. He slid his wallet back into the rear pocket of his tan slacks, rolled up the sleeves to his royal blue dress shirt and craned his neck from side to side. He looked like a white-collar man getting ready for a fight. In fact, that was exactly what was transpiring.
Brian took two handfuls of James plum-colored shirt and pulled him backwards off the bar stool. His ass hit the ground hard as he flailed his arms and legs out. A glass shattered somewhere close by. Brian continued to drag the shell of a man out of the bar. James tried to get purchase with his feet but they flopped uselessly under him. He looked like a fish flailing on the ground. Brian had picked up some speed as they bulldozed their way to the front doors. Tables and chairs toppled over. Thankfully they were empty, but then again most bars were empty at noon on a Wednesday. Brian didn’t slow down for the door and barreled right through it, slamming it open with his backside. He gave a good tug and just as it seemed like James was on his feet, he fell and sprawled out on the black asphalt of 14th street.
“What the…” The words were barely out of James’ mouth when Brian’s fist connected with the side of his face. Spittle spurt from his open mouth as he was laid out. The world spun and fireflies danced in his vision. He didn’t lift his head again. He let the world spin and the street asphalt burn his skin. Two hands grabbed him from under the armpits and pulled him to the curb.
“You son of a bitch.” The words were said slowly as if each one was a nail being driven into coffin. A crowd had began to form around them. A few of the men looked as if they were going to jump in and break things up if it continued, while the women were fascinated. It would fuel their gossip filled tea sessions. Brian released James and let him lie in the gutter while he addressed the growing crowd.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” Brian boomed with the appeal and charisma of a sports announcer. “Let me tell you a story. Do not fear, it will be short and sweet.” He licked his lips and slowly began circling, making eye contact with the rapt onlookers turned his eager listeners. “This story is about a man. A simple and every day man or so it seemed. This man was ignorant in the worst of ways.” Brian spun and stared directly into the blue eyes of a teenage girl. He dropped the octave of his voice, drawing the crowd in. “He was ignorant about himself. Even still he was a great man. His friends came to him for advice about life’s hardest trials, and he always knew how to help. He didn’t always have an answer, but by talking to him he could cure you.” He continued his route around the inner circle and raised his voice. “He was a great man, a hero to those who knew him. Then something happened and none of us can understand what was the tipping point. Where we faltered as friends, but the result was an incredible person was broken.” Brian lowered his eyes to the ground as if saying a silent prayer over a grave.
“But this is a story,” Brian finally looked down at James, a trickle of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. “A story about this man before us. No, this hero before us. As with all hero’s in stories, when they are beaten and broken and there looks to be no hope. They rise up and fight back. So, James. You were broken. Then you delved to the depths of the ocean where sunlight is just a myth. Now you have been beaten with a single punch. What are you going to do? Have I laid flat the one person I admire in this world and forever tarnished my memories of him. Or will he rise up and become the hero we all know you can be, the hero you once were?” Brian stopped and watched the gears inside James’ mind sputter to life. He held his breath waiting for a response. Then from somewhere, hidden among the throng of people, a little girl spoke up.
“Rise!” It was the pleading cry of a child, her voice tight with the thought of possible sadness to come. “Rise!” She cried again, more desperate than before. Suddenly it was no longer a whisper, but a call, and then a shout and within a few repetitions it became a crowd chanting. James in response picked himself up from the ground. His legs were shaky and his head throbbing but he was standing. He was rising. James threw a punch but in his weakened and inebriated state Brian easily stepped into it and turned it into a hug.
The crowd cheered and hollered for the phenomenal event they not only witnessed but participated in. Under the roar of the crowd James growled into Brian’s ear. “I will not forget this.”
Mile 29 