bar, it’s all palm fronds, plastic hula girls, and coconut bowls for the peanuts. The jukebox chips and coos as Yma Sumac warbles through a spooky “Chuncho.” Carlos the bartender is pouring shots of Jack for everyone bellied up at the bar and mine taste best because they’re free. I hold up my glass to toast him for the third time tonight and he holds up his. It’s that kind of night. I’m in my bar with my friends. Now I’m really home.
Vidocq has his arm around my shoulders. He’s hardly taken it off since he got here, like if he lets go I’ll blow away on the breeze.
“At least it wasn’t eleven years this time. You’re doing better,” he says.
“Maybe you should try not going back at all,” says Allegra.
“I signed up with Monsters Anonymous,” I tell them. “Trying to kick the Hell habit one day at a time.”
“I’ll drink to that,” says Vidocq. He holds up his empty glass and Carlos comes over and refills it.
Carlos says, “I wasn’t sure if it was you when you walked in. Even with that fucked-up face, I’m still not a hundred percent.”
He starts to pour me my sixth Jack of the night. I put my hand over the glass.
“Let’s surprise everyone. Why don’t you give me a cup of coffee?”
“See? I knew it wasn’t you. Look at this place. It’s like a wake for someone no one liked. Your
He’s right. The bar is maybe a third full. It used to be packed every night before I took off. Civilians and Lurkers like hanging around places with criminals, even if a few of them get chewed up, like the night a handful of zombies wandered in. What’s funny is that’s exactly why people come to places like this. They want to get close enough to death to smell the graveyard dust, as long as it’s someone else’s name that gets chiseled on the gravestone.
“I’ve been drinking almost nothing but Aqua Regia for three months. I want something a human being might drink. And that little darling with my face is no brother of mine.”
Carlos nods. Looks over the crowd.
“Maybe things will pick up when people hear the real you is back.”
“If it helps, you can pour the coffee in six shot glasses.”
“Great idea.”
He goes away to get the coffee and glasses.
Candy comes in just as he sets them down. She takes one, throws it back, and makes a face.
“What the hell is this?”
“Coffee.”
She slams the glass down.
“You’re such a pussy.”
“Yeah? Pick any random stranger and I’ll punch them if you’ll stay the night tonight.”
Her posture changes. She tenses up. Looks over her shoulder to a table where Rinko sits alone.
“Don’t. I can’t. It’s complicated.”
“Sorry. That was stupid.”
“No. It’s all right.”
Candy catches me looking at Rinko.
“She said she wanted to come.”
