Friday March 29th 2024

Last Call

lastcall

Last Call
(A story by Jim Slimedog)

 

“Just as long as none of this gets out, no one hears a word of this,” she says to him, sitting next to her at the bar, she’s known Billy for nearly twenty years, “You promised.”

“You got my word,” he smiles or maybe leer would be a better description. She taps her cigarette into the ashtray and looks up with a tight smirk on her face.

“If it wasn’t for your condition, you know, I would’ve never done it,” she says,” but I couldn’t deny you being like you are.”

“You liked it, admit it,” he says more sarcastically than boastful.

She pauses, “I suppose I’ve had worse times in my life, you obviously had a ball.”      They both laugh and then she looks away embarrassed.

“Your money’s no good anymore, Billy,” Ray the owner/bartender brushes off the five. Ray the owner’s given strict orders to all the bartenders that it’s open bar for Billy from now on. At least until he dies which doctors say is within six months. It’s also why Janice threw him the lay. It’s not like she’s promiscuous or Ray’s generous but when you know someone’s gearing up for last call it’s hard not to treat them nicer. She knew Billy’s always been sweet on her and it’s hard to deny a dying mans wish. Ray figures he doesn’t even have enough time to drink himself to death and what little time he has won’t cut into the profits that much.

You know, they say everyone should live each day like it’s the last,” Ray says to Billy in his raspy voice, “that’s a pretty foolish thing if you ask me. If I did that I’d never go to work. Why stand around doing some bullshit on your last day? I’d spend all my money and have nothing left the next day. Hell, with all the fun I’d have my last day probably wouldn’t be far off.” He laughs as he runs to take an order at the other end of the bar.

For Billy, who’s only forty-three, this might seem a harsh death sentence, but he’s never had any big plans beyond the next day. No wife, no children, no mortgage, just a bunch of years to work before retirement. Where your bodies so wrecked up and your mind have been evaporated years ago never had much appeal to him, nursing homes and all. He once worked for a laundry, delivering and picking up laundry in a van. One of his stops was a nursing home and he would pick up the soiled sheets with a stench that would make him gag. There was always a lady, down the hallway, from upstairs where he dropped off the bill. He never did see her but he would hear her giving off a high relaxed shriek every four or five seconds. He thought of her as “the bird lady” and for all he knew she did this every waking hour because whenever he’d arrive she’d be doing the same call. What a way to spend your time, he’d think.”

“Sorry to hear about it, Billy, they can’t do nothin’? It’s a shame; it ain’t fair, what is in this life?” Jeff, the mechanic with beefy, Irish, red jowls hanging off the sides of his face, wearing a Boston Bruins jacket says to Billy, “let me buy you a drink.”

“No, let me get this round,” Billy says,” seems I’m running a tab for six months. By the way, could you lend me a hundred? I promise to pay you back in a year or so.”

Jeff looks in amazement, then they both laugh.

“Yeah, I bet you got your last cent stretched to your last second, you bastard,” Jeff laughs, “You quit your job at the post office yet?

“Damn straight, I’m takin’ my retirement now, buddy, and I’m enjoying it. You know, I feel swell but the doctors don’t lie. It’s not like they wanta get rid of a payin’ customer. I’m on my way out but at least I know. I’d hate to be strugglin’ and worryin’ and just drop dead anyway. Like Steve did remember? A heart attack at forty-six and he’s gone like that. And my father worked hard all his life and died a few months before he was supposed to retire. Well, I’m not working that long my friend, I’m havin’ my fun, now. Let’s do some shots.”

The blond, about twenty-six, with pure blue eyes, with just a little sag below them and dark circles from the drinking enters the bar. Maybe another decade or two with what she’s doing will erase her beauty but for now she’s in her prime. She comes up to Billy and gives him a full kiss on the lips and a smile that would melt any mans heart and resurrect any mans cock. Kim tugs at his hand and goes down to the end of the bar to meet all her young friends.

“Yeah, people treat me a lot better, now,” Billy says to Jeff, still watching Kim’s ass heading down the bar, “yeah, dying, you oughta try it.”

“Yeah, some day I might,” Jeff says,” I just keep puttin’ it off,” he smiles.

“Yeah, I hear you. Did we do those shots yet?

A little later, at last call, Billy’s staggering a bit, bouncing off different people.

“Drive carefully,” Kim says to him.

“Yeah, I’d hate to lose my license,” Billy says,” “I’d lose it for a year and have to stick around just to get it back,” he laughs, spilling some of his pint on someone’s jacket who’s luckily more gone than him.

“C’mon, buddy,” Jeff says, “I’m driving you home. Your last day’s still a bit away and it’s not gonna be tonight if I can do anything about it.”

The phone’s ringing at 9:30 A.M.. Damn, he forgot to turn the phone off with the answering machine. Last night was kind of wild, he feels surprised that he remembered to take his pants off. He reaches for the phone in a dazed, hung-over state.

“Hello,” he croaks.

“Mr. Donnelly, this is Dr. Prager from the New England Health Institute,” a voice full of promise and intelligence sprouts,” I have terrific news. The condition you have is far less serious than we originally thought. And I, I have to apologize Mr. Donnelly, but all signs before pointed to our previous evaluation, but your most recent tests over the last few months can only mean that initially, we were wrong, and I’m sure with medication and a careful monitoring of your condition, you can live a long, happy, full life once again.”

Billy wonders if he’s dreaming. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mr. Donnelly, I’m glad to say I am.”

“Well, that’s…..great news, doc.”

“I’m glad to give it. We’ll talk more about this on your next scheduled appointment, Friday. Take care.”

Billy hangs up, staggers toward the kitchen for some water and aspirin above the sink. He pulls down the bottle of Scotch, high above the cabinets, also.

Billy’s in a state between elation and shock, painfully hung-over and trying to get it all straight in his head. He pours some Scotch in a tall glass and gets some ice cubes from the fridge. “I guess this is a call for celebration,” he says out loud, smiling, looking out the kitchen window at the birds eating grapes off the neighbor’s fence.

“I wonder if I can get my old job back?” he muses, seconds later. “I’ll have to work overtime to get back all the money I blew. Won’t Janice be pissed, he snickers? I wonder if Ray will charge me double from now on?  I definitely need a doctors’ note explaining this, they’ll think it was all a con for sure.   They’ll be saying,”Hey, there’s Billy. Yeah, he died six months ago.” I’ll be the late Billy Donnelly from now on.”

“Hey Billy, how’s it goin’? It’s Jeff and they’re at the bar.

“Everything’s all right, uptight, clean out of sight,” Billy says,” at least that’s what Stevie Wonder told me.”

“Oh yeah,” Jeff says,” Who’s the cop that won’t cop out, when there’s danger all about?”

Billy thinks for a moment.” Is that Top Cat, some cartoon?”

“Naw, that’s Shaft,” says Jeff, “He’s a baaad  mother—-

“Shut your mouth.”ut I’m talkin’ about Shaft,” Jeff says.

“And we can dig it,” they both say at once.

Kim idles over and sings high pitched, out of tune. “He’s a complicated man and no one understands him but his woman.”

“John Shaft,” Billy says and they all dissolve into a bunch of giggles.

”I love all that seventies black cop movie shit, man, Superfly, yeah,” Billy says, “Right on, man, right on.”

They all raise their fists in a black power salute.

“So what’s the doctor say?” Kim asks with her full lips, her eyes all bugged and wide.

“Ah, just the same, “Billy says,” They just say I should watch my cholesterol, might be I get five months instead of six and ah, watch my salt intake so no more giving blowjobs for me.”

They all laugh. Jeff and Kim get into a discussion about the next presidential race. Billy feels he need not add anything because he’s not supposed to be around for it, anyways. So stupid, he thinks, how people talk about stuff so removed from them, like how their opinion might change anything in the world, anyways. Politics aside he knows he’s got to deal with how people will take his resurrection from the dead. Jesus did all right with his but he’s not too sure how he’ll fare. Hell, this feels worse than when I was given the death sentence, he thinks. I’ve been given a life sentence, he smiles, life, a fate worse than death. A struggle everyone’s cursed with at birth but now he’s got to do it again. Maybe this is what those born again dudes have to deal with but the thing is I haven’t changed but my life sure will, he thinks, if I stick around beyond my allotted time.

“Put that on my tab, Pete,” Billy says, looking up with a blank, heavy lidded expression.

“It’s all taken care of, brother,” Ray yells down the noisy bar, pulling another draft

Later, its last call and Billy says his goodbyes to everyone, all of his friends. Friends that were a little nicer and dearer in his last days, his former last days and he dreads going back to the old. He was a big man at the bar, nowadays, everyone talked about him. He guesses he’ll ride this gig for as long as he can. Hell, six months can stretch into a year or two, can’t it? He strolls out the door after saying his byes to his friends and heads across the street, lost in his thoughts, and looks up a second before the bus on a training run collides into him sending him fifty or so feet down the block.

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