Roman – Demon Rising
Side Story
Here is a side story with a couple of pictures at the end. It takes place right after the end of the main story but before the epilogue. Enjoy!
I gave you my heart, my whole self. But you left me in pieces.
unknown
Micah climbed out of his car in the Florida heat marveling that the smoking, clanking vehicle finally died right in front of a well-attended, seaside bar. Open to the water he had often dreamed about vacationing in just such a place, laying on the beach drinking margaritas and watching the sun set over the ocean. Well, in this case, come up over the ocean since he was facing east. But the margaritas would still be on the menu. And pizza. And chicken wings. And hamburger – wait – cheeseburger – and French fries. Crap. Anything right now. It had been two… maybe three days? Certainly a while since he had anything to eat.
But unfortunately, all those things cost money, of which, at this point anyway, he was clean out of.
Sighing and kicking a tire with little enthusiasm, he walked into the boisterous establishment thinking about a cool glass of water. That had to be free, right? Surprisingly there was an empty stool at the bar, and he took it, the old man bartending giving him an evil eye. His heart quickened as he stared at him. Could this be a legion? But then he remembered, he could no longer see them.
The old man walked over. “What you running from, kid?”
That surprised him. “What makes you think I’m running?” Was he running? Maybe. Okay, yeah. He was.
“That piece of crap car you rattled in with.”
Micah let out a nervous laugh. Damn. Guess the old man had seen the dilapidated thing. That was too bad. Micah had hoped he would be able to leave the car there for a few days unnoticed. At least until he could make enough money to move it. “Yeah. Unfortunately, it’s dead. I pushed it too hard evidently. Don’t worry. It’s out of the way.”
“You still need to get it the fuck out of my parking lot.”
Micah sighed. Yeah, he figured that. But the stupid mindless drive to this southern Florida beach had taken all the money he had. There simply wasn’t anything left. “I wish I could. But I’m broke.” He shrugged.
“Huh,” the man grunted looking him over. “You need a job?”
“Um… yeah.” That sounded way too hopeful.
“Ever been a bartender before?”
Shit. He wished he could say yes. “No. I haven’t.”
“Least ways you’re honest.” The old man pointed off to his left. “See that apron hanging by the office door?”
Yep. There it was. A blue apron with the words “Wet Deck”, the clever name of the bar, on the front. At least that’s what Micah thought it said. He could only see the letters “W” and “D” but the old man’s apron appeared to be the same. “Um… yes, sir.”
“None of that ‘sir’ shit in this place.” He nodded his head toward the apron. “Go put it on. I’ll show you how to pour beer.”
“You’re… giving me a job?”
“Yes. Unless you’re too fucking busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
Feeling sorry for himself? How…? “No, sir. I mean, no… mister.”
“Jim. Just call me Jim. Now scoot.”
Obeying someone always calmed him so Micah immediately rose from his stool. But a firm hand on his arm stopped him from going anywhere.
“Hang on, not so fast,” Jim gruffed. “When’s the last time you ate, son?”
“It’s… been awhile.” He smiled.
“Sit down. Can’t have you passing out on me.” Jim grabbed a menu and shoved it in Micah’s hands. “Here.”
“But… I can’t pay…”
“Fuck, son, I know that. I plan on working it out you. Now hurry up.”
Working it out of him, he did. For the next several months Micah learned how to tend bar. He also did any heavy lifting, of which there was a lot, and all the cleaning, which usually took him a good part of every night. But he was given three meals a day, lived in a tiny hut right there on the beach, and was allowed a small paycheck for incidentals. Even his crap car disappeared, Micah wasn’t sure when. Except an extra hundred snuck its way into his paycheck about a week after he noticed it was gone.
It wasn’t much of a life, but he found he was too busy to think most days and that was good. However, occasionally, deep in the night, when everything was finally quiet and there was just the sound of the ocean, Micah would lay in bed and think back to what he had left behind. He wondered where Roman was, if he was happy, if he ever thought of Micah at all. Those moments were hard and often brought him out to the beach to contemplate the endless, relentless waves.
So very much like the stupid-ass universe.
Move on, move on, move on.
So, Micah finally did.
