Penny Beer | It Will Come Back #1

 

I hate March, there is just no pussyfooting around it. Spring is the absolute worst time of the year. Period. My springtime allergies have already started and there’s a mockingbird living in the tree outside of my bedroom window, not to mention all the other birds that have taken up residence in that tree. Every goddamn bird within a five-mile radius of my trailer has gone into heat, they’re all horny little bastards who decide to tell the entire world that they are horny right outside of my bedroom window at three am every morning.

It’s like they’re singing, ‘Every time I close my eyes, wake up feeling so horny!’ and apparently, it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.

Not only is it spring, but Croc’s also is running a corn beef and cabbage special because it’s St. Patrick’s Day. Luckily, our uniforms have green in them so people can’t pinch me. Because the first person to lay hands on me was going to get knocked the fuck out.

“Nina,” Judy was hurrying behind me on my way back to the office to finish payroll invoices, Judy rarely comes out from behind the bar during her shifts, even when it’s her break time, so I wasn’t sure why she sounded breathless as she hurried behind me down the hall.

“Yes?” I paused, suppressing the sigh that was held at the back of my throat. My eyes are puffy, my sinuses feel like they are trying to rot and fall out via my throat which has been burning all morning like a son of a bitch and today, it’s felt like I was working with a bunch of toddlers who don’t know how to wipe their own butts.

“We’re almost out of green food coloring.” Judy looked anxious, twisting her fingers.

For a second, my expression must have said a lot, one, I didn’t understand why this was my problem, and two what was the big deal about green food coloring.

“For the beer, Saint Patty’s day, green beer for a penny?” Judy asked.

“Oh,” I was still running fast on the details, but I got the point she was attempting to make now. “I’ll run across the street to the dollar store and grab some more.” I stopped myself from telling the rest of the staff that if they wanted paychecks on Friday, they needed to leave me the hell alone for a few hours, but I’m not allowed to say things like that, or at least I feel like I’m not allowed to, anyway.

“Thank you, I’ll try to get as sparingly as I can with it, I didn’t think we were going to have such a big turnout.” Judy replied, her face masking into confusion.

“Jude, it’s penny beer. Even if it tastes like horse, piss, people will turn out in droves for it.” I replied before patting her on the shoulder. It wasn’t her fault that I was in sinus hell and I didn’t sleep half the night. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’re in charge while I’m gone, though.” In most scenario’s Judy was my go too, she rarely came in late and when she did, she had a good reason, and two, we’re both been working at Croc’s together the longest. Judy knew what to do in my absence.

Returning to the office, I went through my drawer taking out twenty dollars in petty cash and slipped the bill into my pocket, before I beat feet all the way to the back door of the restaurant and hustled across the busy parking lot. Croc’s is housed in its own shopping division, but across the street, there’s a Dollar Tree and I planned on buying them out of green food coloring as long as they still had it.

Hustling beneath the noonday sun, I made my way through the store and found the baking isle, there were twelve boxes of green food coloring, hopefully that would be due if not, they were just going to change the sign from Green Beer for a Penny to Beer for a Penny because I wasn’t driving my ass to the grocery store to buy more food coloring. Why the hell did we even decide to do green beer, anyway?

Because it’s festive, that’s why and I’m all about being festive. Actually, I’m all about making money and I knew the campaign would bring in beer lovers from all over town.

Getting back to Crocs was a dash across four lanes of traffic as I ran back in and gave the food coloring to Judy behind the bar.

“Unless one of the wait staff loses a limb or a customer, shits, pukes, or dies on the floor, I’ll be in my office getting payroll done.” It was my way of saying leave me the hell alone as I turned back around, using the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my top lip. I’d packed my allergy medicine in my bag this morning after taking the first dose, but it wore off three hours ago—although to be fair, it wasn’t the heavy-duty kind. If I were off work, I’d take the shit that knocked me the hell out, but right now that wasn’t a possibility.

Pushing my glasses on top of my head, I was pinching the bridge of my nose for some kind of relief as I let myself back into the office; I needed to log the petty cash used for the food dye, scan the receipt for our records and then I’d pop another allergy pill and settle behind my desk for the torture of staring at a computer screen for the next two or three hours—but none of those things were going to happen as I would soon find out.

Turning from the door, I had a good mind to lock it, but that would just force me to get out of my chair every time someone had to come tell me something, but my feet suddenly back pedaled into the wood and the sharp contours of my shoulder blades painfully bounced off the door when I saw the blood.

“Son of a bitch!” The shriek ripped from my throat so fast it left the raw tissue burning and the next words to follow escape my lips in a hoarse whisper. “Bishop?”

The last time I saw him was a couple of years ago during an ill-fated meeting in a bar in Black Diamond, Washington.

Now, he was swaying in a blood-soaked t-shirt; the rubies dripping into the waistband of his jeans and onto the floor of the office, and his face was ashen. A torrent of questions filled my mind; what was he doing here, why was he bleeding all over the place, why was he in my office, why was he bleeding all over my office instead of in the emergency room, was he going to die, and if he was going to die why was he here?

“Nina?” Precious was calling my name down the hall, I couldn’t let him open that door. “Are you alright, sugar?”

My eyes widened, I knew what was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it from happening. Bishop’s eyes rolled back into his skill, blood tipped fingers brushed over a stack of paperwork sitting on the edge of my desk, scattering them to the floor with the weight of his body losing whatever battle it was fighting as his body thudded hard to the floor.

“Girl you better not be getting high in there without me,” Precious announced, the door handle squeaking as it turned and Precious opened the door just enough to hit me in the back where I was standing as I whirled around to meet his chocolate brown eyes and keep from him seeing what I’d seen.

“Nope, not getting high, totally not high.” I blurted out quickly, holding the door in place before he could swing it open any wider.

“You okay? You look like you don’ seen’t a ghost or somethin’.”

“I’m good, just my sinuses and I knocked over my file organizer… clumsy ass.” I jerked a nervous smile to the corners of my lips as Precious scrutinized my appearance for a second longer.

“Girl, you sure you okay? Cause you look whiter than usual, like your neon white.”

“Am I?” My voice broke from the hoarse whisper and came out as a high-pitched squeal which forced a salty copper taste to the back of my tongue. “Must be all the green or something, anyway, uh, did you need me for anything?” Because right now there very well could be a very dead man lying on the floor just a few feet behind me and I was desperately trying not to be the subject of a murder investigation, or a drug investigation, or god only fucking knew what Bishop got his ass into.

“No, just checking up on you. You want me to mix you something? I can get some whiskey from the bar and make you a hot toddy for that throat.” Fucking shit. Why did Precious have to choose the absolutely worst time in the world to be the sweetest man in the world? I would have loved a hot toddy about ten minutes ago.

“Precious that’s so sweet, but I’m going to be working on payroll and no one’s going to be happy if I get turn’t while I’m doing it and screw up everybody paycheck this Friday.”

“Well alright, if you need something you just give me a shout.” His smile was always pearly white and dazzling. Not only that, but he added to the theatrics by batting his long false eyelashes. Why were the prettiest, kindest men always gay? At least I could hug Precious without feeling a boner.

Precious turned from the door, his hips swaying delicately as he headed back to the kitchen, and I closed the door behind me.

“Are you dead?” I didn’t know if I should expect Bishop to answer me or not, but I walked over, nudging him onto his back. He was still breathing, but he looked awful and the blood coming from his stomach was still pouring at a steady rate. Putting my head down to his chest, I could make out a shallow thump, his heart just had to still be beating, maybe he’d just passed out from the pain, or shock, or blood loss, hell if I knew, I wasn’t a doctor. “This would be so much easier if Aunt Zee were here.” I bit into my lip, hauling myself back to my feet.

There were four first aid kids in Croc’s: one in the office, one in the bathroom, behind the bar and one in the kitchen. Grabbing the box from the office, I peeled back the shirt Bishop was wearing and tried to inspect the hole where a pool of blood was steadily pouring from the jagged flesh. Emptying the kit onto the floor, I pulled out gauze pads quickly and tried to clean up around the gushing wound with alcohol pads before covering the bullet hole with the gauze and covering it up with tape, but that didn’t solve any of my problems. I needed to figure out how to get Bishop out of my office. If he was here, like this… there was likely a reason he hadn’t gone to the emergency room and whoever shot him was probably still looking for him too.

“Ok, Bishop… I just…. Need a second to think.” I tossed everything back inside the first aid kit and threw it into a filing cabinet and looked around the office for a few seconds before I went to the stock of extra uniform shirts. Digging around inside, I found one that looked like it might fit. Holding it up to his shoulder, it would, but just barely. Normally uniforms his size we had to special order for staff members. Pulling his shirt off, his head cracked on the floor and his eyes fluttered open for a second, the eyes rolling around in their socks. I don’t know if he even knew who I was as his hand lurched up and gripped my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off the circulation of my breathing.

“Bish…. Bishop…” I slapped at his hand first, before my palm slapped his mid-section, pain rippling in the taut muscles and weakened the hand at my throat.

Gasping, I swallowed, seeing his eyes drift closed again, and I finished pulling the Croc’s uniform shirt over his head and got his arms through the sleeves. Now, I had to get him out of here.

Grabbing my backpack, I glimpsed myself in the mirror by the door. There was a bloody handprint around my throat. Grabbing the rest of the alcohol wipes, I cleaned it off the best that I could before hurrying out to the kitchen, finding Precious chopping onions.

“Precious… I need a favor.” I gasped, calling his attention from the onions and his expression darkened, brows frowning as he took in my appearance.

“What kinda favor?”

“Just say yes, please.” My plea for help was reduced to a whisper again as my bruised throat closed tight around my vocal cords. “I need to get someone out of the restaurant, but we can’t go out the front door.”

“Alright.” Precious set the knife down and started untying his apron.

“Thank you, I’ll be right back, I’m just going to move my Jeep up to the back door as close as I can. I’ll owe you one.” I said as I ran out the back door across the parking lot to the Wrangler and jumped into the driver’s seat, the engine had barely come to life when I threw the gear into first and pressed my foot on the gas, the engine roaring as it sailed up to the back door and Precious was already walking to the door, Bishop’s arm slung over his shoulder than his feet drug the ground behind him, reaching across the seat, I threw the passenger door open as Precious stuffed him inside and I tried to help arrange his body in the seat in a natural sitting position.

“Thank you,” My voice was barely audible as Precious caught my eyes and they held steady for a second.

“Call me, cause there’s no way I’m gonna do this and not know why you got me haulin’ a hunk of half dead man meat, girl.”

The tone of Precious’ voice did little to settle the nerves that were forcing a trimmer through my shaking hands. He just closed the door, and I threw the jeep into reverse and jammed my foot on the brake, fishtailing in the parking lot as I put the jeep in drive and sped around vehicles coming into the parking lot. The restaurant was just going to have live without me for the rest of the day.