The Pub © Joshua Scribner
Never had Chase wanted a beer so badly, a cold one, right from the draft. The building sat over a lake and emanated a scent of frying fish. He walked the wooden bridge toward the pub.
“Hey, I know you.”
Who could know him here? He turned to see a scrawny old man sitting on the platform at the end of the bridge. “You don't look familiar to me, and I'm not from around here.”
The man laughed, which trailed off into a cough. It took a few seconds for him to speak again. “You come around every twenty years or so.”
Chase snorted. “Crazy old man.” He moved toward the pub.
“I know you better than you think, Jimmy Beam.”
Chase stopped so fast he nearly fell forward. He turned back. “What did you call me?”
The old man laughed, cutting it short this time, before he would cough again. “I called you by the name your dad told me. I saw him just like I saw his daddy. I even saw a daddy before that, when I was just a boy. The only thing is, yours was the first to leave a message. I gave him the spiel, told him who I'd met, and before he went in, he said, ‘Jimmy Beam will be next. Tell him to turn around and go home.'”
Chase studied the old man. Could he possibly have just made a lucky guess? That didn't seem likely. “Dad called me Jimmy Beam after the whiskey he drunk the night I was conceived.”
“Yup. And I bet he just up and disappeared one day.”
Chase sighed. “Yup. Just like I left. We're free spirits, meant to roam.”
The old man laughed the loudest yet and broke down coughing again. This time, it took him nearly a minute to resume speaking. “You all say that, and yet you all end up here. It's like your destiny mocks your freedom.” He looked away, shaking his head. “Go on inside. See if you're the first in your lineage to come out.” Chase thought of home. He hadn't been gone long. Maybe they'd take him back.
He moved back toward the bridge, but stopped at the edge. He could taste the cold beer and fried fish. He could feel something incredible. He turned back to the pub.
“Tell Sutter Home to do whatever he feels.”
He went inside. _________________ Joshua Scribner is the author of the novels Mantis Nights, The Coma Lights and Nescata . His fiction won both second and fifth place in the 2008 Whispering Spirits Flash Fiction contest. Up to date information on his work can be found at joshuascribner.com. Joshua currently lives in Michigan with his wife and two daughters. |