Joel's Journey 4




I walk into the door to what I now know is a bar. Sonnie's. Looking around, I see that it's hopping and there is one bartender working the entire place.
Heading up, she cuts her gaze to me and frowns.
"It's 8:04, and if you are Joel, you're late." She reaches under the bar and tosses me a black t-shirt. Tugging it on, I slide under the bar, and look around, wondering what the hell I've gotten into.
"Hey! Hey!" The bartender snaps her fingers in my face and frowns.
"Rule one. Ten minutes early for your shift. Rule two. You come in, and immediately make sure the stock is good for the night and fix what is low. Rule three. You bust your ass, not my glasses. We mainly serve pints, with the occasional mixed drink. We are a beer joint, for the most part. And don't waste my beer."
I stare at this red-headed firecracker. She's mid thirties, frizzy hair, and about twenty pounds over the "accepted weight". Her eyes though? Shrewd and intelligent. I meet her gaze dead on and nod. "Got it. Now can I start serving beer?"
She laughs and climbs on the bar, ringing this old cow bell, causing the entire bar to silence. "Okay, you fuckers. This is Joel. He's new, nice on the eyes, but hands off ladies. He's got a ring on! Let's give him a Sonnie's welcome and throw him into the fire. All orders go to him tonight. All tips? Go to me."
She jumps off the bar and the patrons whistle, cheer and pound their glasses. What the hell did I get into? She holds out her hand.
"I'm Sonnie, in case you haven't figured it out. Let's do this thing, huh?" She laughs and ruffles my hair, and points to the bar. Holy shit! Every single patron is in line, staring at me with a wicked grin on their face.
Six hours later, and Sonnie is herding the last of the drunks out the door as I am cleaning and placing chairs on the tables. My eyes keep going to the corner that holds a stage. On the stage is a karaoke machine, a bar stool and a microphone. My curiosity gets the better of me and I head over. After powering up the machine, I scroll through the songs, and find one. Turning the mic on, I sit on the stool and wait for the music to start.
Hey
Show me one man that's never made mistakes
Mmh
And I pay
All of my time and every dime I may
But today

The best of intentions
I lay at your feet
And I need you to see past the worst part of me
I'm tired of taking my aim
When I keep on missing
There's gotta be a better way
Gotta be a better way

And every little word I say
Keeps getting twisted
Or coming out wrong, so baby hold on
I'm tryin' to hit the mark but I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows

No
I may not be the same but I've got a heart of gold
Yeah
Oh, like a telephone
Connection ain't clear, but I hope you hear soul
You gotta know

Yeah, the best of intentions
I lay at your feet
And I need you to see past the worst part of me
And I'm tired of taking my aim
When I keep on missing
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way

Seems like every little word I say
Keeps getting twisted
Or coming out wrong, so baby hold on
I'm tryin' to hit the mark
But I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows yeah
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
Broken arrows

I'm driving it back now
And the target is you
And I dunno what else I can do oh
I'm tired of taking my aim
When I keep on missing
There's gotta be a better way
There's gotta be a better way

Seems like every little word I say
Keeps getting twisted
Or coming out wrong, so baby hold on
I'm trying to hit the mark
But I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows yeah
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows yeah
It's like I'm shooting with broken
Arrows
Broken arrows
The song stops and my head hangs, the lyrics still coursing through me. The slow clapping causes me to open my eyes, and I see Sonnie leaning against the bar, a bottle of Jameson and two tumbler glasses by her elbow.
"Wow. Just wow. I'm not sure what I loved most about that, Joel. The sound of your voice, or the emotion you gave it."
She pats the bar. "Come wash it down with me and chat for a bit." I power everything off and slowly make my way towards her, the residual feelings slowly leaving my body.
Silently, she pours us each a double and smiles. "You've got a story. I can see it in everything you do, and every word you sing. I'm intrigued."
I silently sip and watch her, not ready to talk about anything. I see her searching eyes and almost cringe. She's not going to let up. Her husky laugh erupts as she downs the entire drink and taps the bar.
"Don't worry. One day, we will share secrets. All I can say is don't keep it inside. Let it out anyway you need to, and if my karaoke station is that way? It's yours."
I finish my drink and avoid answering her by asking a question. "Same time tomorrow? With tips this time?"
She nods and tosses the glasses in the sink before walking me out. "You've got a story to tell, Joel. A path to find. Hopefully, I can help."
Heading out the door, I take her words inside me as I trudge through the snow back towards the apartment. She's right. I can't keep it in.
                             -------
Thank God for Sonnie's. Day in and day out, it's given me a purpose and an outlet.
The purpose? To get out of isolation. To be able to push back the feeling of being alone, just for a bit, and interact with people.
Now most of these people are old ass fisherman, with their stories and woes, day in and day out. The same stools. The same friendly faces, the same stories. It's gotten to the point where I can joke back and forth with them, calling their bullshit, and even taking in some of their wisdom, however convulated they may be. It's nice.
Then there is the college crowd. They cram the weekends and game nights, and they provide an amusing sort of people watching. The prowlers, both men and women, the frat kids, pounding back beer after beer, and even the couples. I watch them the most, because, in all honesty, they remind me of the old Paris and I. The banter, the familiarity, the innocently not innocent touches. I see them all, and it reminds me that what we have is real, and spurs me on. To find the better me, for me first, but ultimately for us.
Then I said the outlet. After closing time, I pull up to that karaoke machine and just sing. Each song just what I'm feeling at the time, without fear of it being misinterpreted. Sonnie doesn't judge. She cleans as I sing, and at the end, I know she's taken it all in and just hands me a glass of whatever we are drinking that night, and we just talk. It can be about anything or nothing, but I can feel how she takes in what I say and analyzes it.
Well, tonight is a little bit different. Right about closing time, we have three prowlers. Two male, one female, who have been in a weird competition on which guy wins. The female? She's a nasty one. Beautiful, absolutely stunning on the outside, but disgustingly nasty inside.
It has finally come to a head, and she laughingly pits them one against the other, and the fists fly, along with a pint glass or two, all while she sits back grinning. I jump on the bar, pulling one of the prowlers off the other, pushing him towards the door before it gets any worse.
Sonnie... She's pretty particular about her glasses, and goes after the female. Fist in her hair, Sonnie dodges kicks from these thigh high leather heeled boots that sooo remind me of Andi.
I've never seen Sonnie lose control like this. She pushes the girl against the bar, her cheek mashed against the old mahogany, spouting curses like a pro. The girl is finally hustled out, and Sonnie closes the bar early. Pushes everyone out, locks the door and turns the music up loud.
AC/DC pounds the speakers and she grabs two shot glasses, slams them on the bar and calls me over.
"Joel, I'm done with this tiptoe shit. Get your ass over here and we are gonna talk."
I slowly make my way over, sliding onto a bar stool, and grin. "Rough night boss? Gonna take it out on the hired help?"
She ignores me as she lines up the glasses. "This game is called our story. Our truths if you like. Each shot? You tell a bit of your story... We start small, and by the the time we are drunk? The truth will come easy."
"What the fuck? Who said I'm playing this game?" The tight anxiety starts in and I start to get up.
"I did. And let me fucking tell you, Joel, you're gonna do it. Admit it. You need to."
I sit back down, watch her pour the Makers Mark, and silently nod. Get it out. What the fuck else do I have to lose?
"Okay, I'll go first." She necks the shot "I'm a lesbian."
My eyes widen at that, but I remain silent. I grab my shot, neck it, and blurt out, "I'm an orphan."
She nods and refills the shots. Taking hers, she comes out with something I would have never guessed. "Chuck is my twin brother."
I spin my shot glass and glimpse my wedding ring. Necking the shot, I look at her "I might have ruined the one thing in the world that matters to me."
She nods, and fills up the shot glasses. "Good... We are getting somewhere. Let's make this a question shot. You ask me a question, I drink and answer."
I nod and ask the first thing I can think of "Why a bar?"
She necks the shot, and sighs. "Because it was our dad's. When I couldn't do my other job, I took over here."
She looks at me and asks, "How did you ruin the best thing? I'm assuming your marriage?"
I neck my shot, and look at the empty glass. "Because instead of turning to her emotionally, I internalized and pushed her away."
She snorts, and pours a shot and takes it, blurting out, "I was in a committed relationship, raped, and she left me because I was now tainted." I reel back, my eyes glued to hers as the tears form, and I feel my heart ache. She continues. "Now that is pushing someone away. What you did? Was probably an ingrained reaction from the life you led. Wrong? Yes. Enough to ruin a true love and marriage? Not so much."
Put into that perspective, I take a shot for her pain, and pour another that I take before I continue."I'm afraid I'm going to be like my parents and run." Where that came from, I have no clue, but it felt right saying it. It felt like a piece of cement fell off my shoulders as the words tumbled out.
She laughs and takes a shot. "I got pregnant off the rape, and couldn't bear to look at the child, so I gave it away."
She immediately holds up her hands. "Don't go there, Joel!" She pulls her purse out and shows me a picture of a beautiful family and points to the little toddler in the front. "That's him. Andrew. I picked his family, and he thinks of me as a family friend. I would never ever do what your parents did."
My eyes are filled with tears for her and Andrew. What seemed so fucking bad in my life is shit compared to what she's endured.
I take a shot. "I'm afraid to find my mom, but I think I need to. Ask her why."
She puts the glasses in the sink and the bottle under the bar. "Then do it. Find her. Ask her all the questions you've never had, and move on."
"How?"
She rolls her eyes, laughing as she pushes me to the door. "Ask Chuck, you dumb ass. Now good night. I'll clean up the mess in here tonight. You can pay me back by coming in early tomorrow and doing inventory."
---TBC---

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