Chapter 9

“So, this dude...” Asked the guy. “What’s his problem, really?”

Jonathan was far too relaxed to pay attention to him. There was a pretty, tall, thin blonde on the other side of the bar, and her face stole most, if not all of his focus. Even as his friend repeated the question, perhaps one too many times, he barely had a chance to hear it until... “Uh, oh. What?”

He was awakened, as it were, by the guy’s fingers loudly snapping on his face. “Wakey wakey, snowy flakey! So, you checking her out, eh?” He too glanced at the woman as discreetly as he could. “Yeah, she good. Wanna have her?”

“I don’t know.” He took a long time enunciating every word, his mind in a different place in each of them. “Maybe. I rather wait for my dude.”

“You owe him something?” His friend crossed his arms and laid back on the chair, checking the blonde from time to time, but apparently disapproving of her for some reason. “Not good for long-term, this broad, but ... eh, I guess she’s nice for a quickie. Maybe.”

“Don’t you already have Marcia?”

“Yeah, I do, but it’s nothing serious yet.”

He chuckled. “Does she know it’s nothing serious?”

“She knows what she needs to know.” He smiled. “So, you owe this guy something or what?”

The young man raised the cup to his lips, sipping its thick, bitter brew. “He’s a nice dude. He just needs some help, you know, getting out of his cave.”

The friend seemed understanding, if a tad bothered. “He’s not one ‘em lone wolves, is he? You know, the kind of people we had down south, blowing up everybody all of the sudden?”

“Nah, no!” He laughed, but took a pause and thought for a second. “He’s, uh, he’s good folk, really. Nice to talk to once you get through him. Quite sharp, even. His own type of clever. You gonna see.” His eyes kept wandering between his companion and the woman. “A workaddict, I would guess, and a dude who’s had it rough in life, I think.”

“Oh, well.” He took a sip. “Who hasn’t, these days?”

“Yeah, but with the right people and the right talk, he’s gonna let himself loose real easy.”

“If you say so.” He cast a disapproving glance at the glass after finishing his sip and took the whole bottle instead, turning it in his mouth like it was his last day on earth. “So...” He burped aggressively. “Does he drink?”

“I’m ... not sure. Probably not, but I guess he doesn’t mind it on special occasions.”

“Ah. He’s one of ‘em types, eh?”

“Probably.”

“And this one would be it, eh?”

“Be what?”

“A special occasion?”

“Ah, yeah. Hopefully.” He threw an all-encompassing look around the place, already deader than an abandoned cemetery, and getting emptier by the second. “I actually told him about the band.”

“Oh.” The lad shrugged. “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Fuck that Thompson bastard.”

“And he agreed to it? Like, to being in a band?”

“Oh, what? No. Oh, no, no, he wasn’t going to be in the band, he was going to watch us and...” He sighed. “Then we go to happy hours and such.”

“Well, now we only got the happy hours.” The friend too looked around the place. “Or not-so-happy, judging by the looks of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, regardless, I suppose he ain’t so shy if he agreed to come in the first place. To watch a band and such.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Well, of course I am. I’m Josh, am I not?” He burped. “I’m always right.” Something in the bar seemed to catch his attention. “There. You see? That one’s a fine piece.”

He turned around and smiled. “You do like the redhairs, don’t ya?”

“Oh, there’s something about them that moves me right, ya know? Too many blondes and brüne in this land. I like having unt eldhårig once in a while.” Then, without a warning, he stood up.

“The hell you’re going?” He checked on the woman again. “Now?”

“Yep. Now.”

“Come on, man, let’s at least wait for him.” He gave his friend a light tap on the arm. “And you barely started dating Marcia, anyway.”

“Dating?” He seemed almost repulsed by the word. “The fukk ever said anything about ‘dating?’”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Seeing. You started ‘seeing’ Marcia just now. Don’t you wanna, you know, keep it in the pants for a little longer, huh?” He saw the man stopping, indeed, but only to stare back at him with a funny face and a quirky smirk. “What? What’s with the smile now?”

“Have you been fucking, Jojo? Like, at all?”

“I have, for your information.” He slapped him on the side of his hips. “Not nearly as much as you, I’m sure. Ain’t a prized stud myself, ain’t not, but yes, I have been getting work for my hammer, thank you very much. Quite a bit of work, I would say.”

“Good boy. Yet why do you still sound like a monk?”

“Not everybody’s as horny as you.”

“Does he fuck?”

“What?”

“This dude you’ve met. This guy we’re waiting for. Does he fuck?”

“Prish’Allah! We just sat down, dude!”

“I’m just asking.”

“Well, don’t ask things like this so soon, so out of the blue. Y’hein!”

“Well, does he or does he not? ‘Tis quite of a simple thing I’m asking.”

“No.” He threw his hands up. “I guess he never did. Not without paying, at least.”

“Mm, real bad. Can’t trust a man who doesn’t fuck.”

“A man is more than his penis, you know that, right?”

“No.” He shook his head, making tiny grunts with every shake. “No, he ain’t. A man is exactly his dick. It’s called manhood for a reason, you know.”

“A smartass fiend, you are.”

“If you have a problem with this, you have a problem with yourself. Only reason men don’t like thinking like this is because they themselves don’t have manhoods big enough to brag about.” He grabbed a volume on his crotch and pulled it up in his jeans, adjusting the denim before walking off to the new conquest. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m gonna get labor for my own hammer.”

“Fine. Get lost. It’s better like this.” And yet... “Oh, wait. Hey, man, hey!”

“What, dude? You blocking me? Serious?”

“No, no, it’s just...” He tried not to chuckle. “Look, try not to do anything too embarrassing tonight, eh? She’s coming, you know!”

That seemed to give the guy enough reason to stop and ponder. “Oh. Yeah.” He was finally putting two and two together. “You trying to set him up with...?” He gulped. “Her?” The other nodded. “You fucking traitor. Acting like the cupid behind my back, a’ya?”

“You’ve been split for years now. No more dibs on her, you haven’t.”

“Still...” He tapped a foot repeatedly on the floor. “Johanna? Seriously? You think she is the best pick for him? A guy who never got his goose drowned?”

“Oh, she’s not all that bad. And he’s cute. I mean, I can see how he can come off as cute for some women—and Johanna, I think, might be a good match for him.”

“Well, gasoline is a good match for fire. Doesn’t mean they should come together very often.”

“You jealous? Stirred up about her still, eh?”

“Ah, go choke on a bag of cocks.”

“Look, it’s not as if I expect anything serious to come out of this.” Jonathan pondered more thoroughly. “The guy just ... you know, he just needs to get out of his head, once in a while, and experience the world a bit.” He laid back on the chair, one arm behind his head, and drank the rest of his cup lazily, deciding whether or not he should follow the friend’s steps and try his luck with the pretty, tall blonde in the opposite direction. “If I can get him to be more sociable and at ease around ‘em ladies, I feel like I’m doing a great contribution to society.”

“Hail Jonathan, the good samaritan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t hear you with this bag of bull cocks I’m choking on.” He gestured him away. “Go off and pick up your reddie.”

“I feel the blonde ain’t waiting for too long either.” He winked. “Go try her out.”

“No. Thanks. I’ll pass on this one.” He took the bottle and drank straight from it. “I’ll rather wait for him.”

“Uh-huh. Pussy.”

“Dickhead.”

He checked his watch. «He seems like a punctual kind of guy. Unlike Joh.» And looked around the bar, seeing its already scarce number of patrons leaving without much ceremony, making the place quieter, lonelier, but also cozier in a way. «Well... » He reflected. And hoped. «Guess this will help him.»

He took a sip from the bottle. Then another.

And then another. «Baby steps, I suppose.»

Autumn had a magical way of announcing itself.

He took deeper breaths of that fresh air, stopping his bike from mile to mile to admire his surroundings. «I’m afraid.» He was honest to himself, feeling his heart beating so hard, instilling a chill resolve in his veins.

The cold winds of summer’s end gave him some comfort, easing out the apprehension in his heart, the burning sting of fear that boiled deep in his bowels. The chill in his spine made him sweat and shiver, the cold from within meeting the cold from without.

The loud buzzing of the trams woke him from his stupor. The glaring lights from the streets cast dreary shadows around him, forming monsters on the walls, shades of fear on his tracks.

He rode as if to escape them. A couple of yards ahead, then, he stopped and looked back, contemplating surrender. «I’ve postponed this ... for too long.» He wasn’t one to break promises. «Not for that guy. Not anymore. I kicked the can, uh, down this road too many times.» He nodded. «Too many times.»

He looked ahead and saw the can at the end of the long road, away from the reach of his feet or his fears, kicked beyond any chance of being kicked any further. «He is waiting for me.» He vaticinated, then pressed on, his feet sinking on the pedals, his bike shooting forth until all he saw were white lines flowing around him in the dark. He, a single man of destiny now imbued with heavenly purpose. «If not for me ... for him.»

A man with a fate, a man with a date. With his upper lip stiffened and limbs tamed, he rode to the heart of town with redoubled strength and reinforced determination.

«Nice going, lover.» Following him every mile, his muse cheered him on. «My big, sexy bull.» She winked, biting her lips. «I don’t even know how you can ride a bike like this with balls so big.»

He chuckled. Whenever he walked or rode through the deep city, rare as it were, he always stayed in his own bubble, carrying his home around him, his safe space where no one would hurt him, be it with fists or nasty words.

His doll, his woman, his lover. She was a nice addition to these self-protecting daydreams. “Alright.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “Now quiet down, please.”

«Thaaat’s how I like it!» She stuck the tip of her tongue between her teeth, gliding over to his side and kissing him on the cheek, helping him steer the bike as the kisses multiplied and became much longer and hotter. «I want to see you smiling like this ... forever.»

“Mm ... okay!”

She watched his face with great attention, making exaggerated expressions whenever he tried to be serious. «Oooh, my baby’s serious, is he?» She baby-talked to him. «Is my baby fighting against a smile right now?»

“I’m not.”

«Yes, you are.»

“I’m...” He puffed up. “Yeah, I am.” He relaxed his muscles, allowing his face to shine.

«Oooh, that’s it baby!» She clapped excitedly, pressing her fingers on each end of her lips, then dragging them up. «Smile! A big, big smile for you and me!» She flowed high up on the streets, enjoying her first time downtown—the first time he took her out, if only in his mind. «So, my little filly, care to tell me where we’re going? Oh, it’s so white, everything, isn’t it? These buildings, these streets, oh, even the trees and their branches, and the lights that light up every street and sidewalk, all white, so white, so very white!»

“Mm, yes.” He looked around, seeing the dense vapor coming from his mouth. “It’s getting cooler. Winter’s not long ahead.”

«And can a beautiful, hot-blodded tropical scoundrel such as yourself survive in this artic cold?»

“I can. It’s not easy, but I can.” He looked ahead, seeing the road much shorter now. “Ain’t no challenge ... I can’t overcome.”

He rode fast. As the lights of downtown shone blindingly and the winds of autumn turned to ferocious twisters, John looked back one last time and realized his lover was no longer following him. «Hmm. Maybe better this way.»

He rode again, even faster, ready to claim his prize, enjoy the night, and finally start having a life.

A hand shot up in the air. “Hey!” Excitement radiated with every motion. “Hey, John! Here! We’re right here!”

As with most places, he had entered the bar with as little fanfare as possible. «Oh!» No matter how invisible he tried to make himself, however, Jonathan could easily pick him apart from the shallow, thinning crowd. «Well, guess I don’t need to be anxious.» He kept thinking, clutching his fists and cracking his fingers to calm himself down.

Whenever in strange spaces, he preferred to stand or sit by the edges and the dark corners. Invisible. The farther away from the people, the more removed from their sight, the better. Jonathan, however, gave him no such respite. «Did he have to pick the very center?»

Perhaps there would be no reason to worry: the place was so big, yet so empty that sitting in the middle of it would feel the same as sitting in the corners. Just as lonely, just as invisible, just as safe. «No turning back now. No turning back.» People or no people, full or empty, he still had to remind himself at every step of his resolve, to fight against his most primal instincts and the shadows that always followed him, always stalked him, that never really went away. «Do not turn back now. Do not walk away.»

Especially when he’d walked so far already.

“That’s right, John, it’s me! Come one here, now!”

The shining smile of his friend by the table was all the help he needed. He felt empowered when seeing that honest, agreeable face beaming with such a positive aura in the very middle of a scattered battlefield. «Maybe that’s why he’s sitting there, in such a central place. Maybe he wants to spread this energy to every corner of this bar equally, leaving no soul unwarmed, no heart untouched.»

On his way, John tripped over the leg of a chair, bringing the unwanted attention of the mean-faced, gorilla-shaped mountain of a man sitting on it. “Watch it, mate!” The towering brute blurted out, and John muttered some incoherent excuse, walking a little faster until his friend would welcome him with a warm handshake and even warmer words:

“Hey-o, you made it!” The heat from his palm spread through John’s body, changing his color and giving him life. “Hope you didn’t have much of an issue finding the place.”

John fought against his own soul. “Uh ... yeah ... no. No, no, uh, no problem.” He gulped, trembling with every handshake. “It was, uh, quite easy. Very, uh, very straightforward.”

Jonathan watched him closely, following him with a gentle smile as the lad took his seat. “First time?”

“Huh?”

“In a bar? First time in a place like this?”

“Not ... not quite.”

“Not quite, eh? Ada boy! But I suppose it’s been a long time, anyway, since you set foot in one, right?” He saw John nod without a word. “So, how close are you acquainted with the ways of the whisky, by the way?” He winked and smiled. “Drinking, I mean. I don’t wanna give ya any more than you can handle.”

“Mm, not very, uh, acquainted, no. Been a long time, actually, since I drank anything.”

“Alright. Baby steps, then.” He slid to him a bottle over the table. “Try this one out. It’s very sweet, very light, perfect for first-timers. This will help put you in a relaxed, chilly mood.”

It took John only a couple of chugs to lower his shoulder, straighten his back, and look more firmly and sincerely at his friend. «Friend?» No. Companion.

“So...” He hiccuped, then blushed with the heat of the ale and the sight of Jonathan’s ever-widening grin. “You’re ... uh, you’re playing?”

“Playing?” Jonathan threw a quick look at the tiny, dusty stage far away in a corner of the bar. “Ah, yeah. About that.” The glow in his face was dimmed somewhat. “Show’s been canceled.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, they canceled on us this evening. Total douchery, really. I guess I could have warned you, but ... no, I really couldn’t. I was out of work by the time folks broke me the news.”

“Oh, uh, it’s ... uh, it’s okay. It’s, uh ... no big deal.”

“Were you eager to hear us sing?”

John shrugged, his eyes still too skittish. “I guess.”

“Aww, that’s neat. Well, man, sorry to disappoint you, then.” Jonathan made a subtle gesture with his head, nodding at his surroundings. “Not that it’s a surprise, really. Place looking deader than a desert.”

“So ... no one else is coming?” John sounded a little hopeful with the question, and Jonathan’s kind voice made sure to keep him in this tranquility:

“Yeah, most of the folks understandably canceled, but there’s still a nice crowd in here.” He winked, attentive to John’s every tic and schtick. “Not many, but great. Few, but good.”

“Oh.” John took shy sips of his cup, casting timid, but ever warmer glances at his friend. “Okay. So, who’s comi-?”

There was a high-pitched scream followed by a piercing blow, a very strong slap! from a nearby table. “What on earth...?” They both turned to see the commotion. “Oh.” Jonathan smiled, then leaned onto John to whisper. “Speaking of trouble...”

A woman was laughing, smiling wide with her friends at the table. A tall man stood near them, smiling also, seemingly undaunted by the rash and the burn of the blow he had just received on one cheek.

“Get out, really. I mean it, come ooon.” Insisted the giggling girl as she played with her hair and giggled to her friends, who were all eyeing that man very intensely. “Girl’s night only. Pleeease.”

The eloper, however, chose to shoot the few bullets that remained in his arsenal. “You carry quite the punch for a woman your size.”

The girl lifted her arm and flexed, displaying her biceps like prized trophies. From his table, together with an amused Jonathan, John widened his eyes for an instant and watched curiously as the woman flaunted her muscles. Alas, to his great disappointment, there were no muscles there worth flaunting. Just two fleshly mounds on her arms.

“I’m stroooong!!” Still, she gloated.

“Hell, you are! You’re right: I should be leaving!” The charmer pointed at her almost in a dismissive way. “I’m not exactly into a woman who’s that much bigger than me.”

“Mmph!” She huffed and puffed and wiggled on her chair, leaning onto him. “Don’t like a strong woman in y’er life, do you?”

“Perhaps I would, but that’s not the matter.” The fiend struck a devilish grin. “What I would like is a woman, not a man in the body of one.”

The lady’s face grew gray and pale for a second. Both she and her few friends stood in silence, eyebrows raised, confusion on some faces, shock on others, big smiles on all. “What did you say?” She tried interjecting, but her man was now leaving. “Hey. No! Come back here! I want an apology!”

“What’s that, now? I remember you telling me to leave just now.”

“I changed my ... fuck.”

“Perhaps I didn’t listen to you well. Can’t know. With such a strong, deep, masculine voice, it’s not all that easy to make out your words.”

“Fuck yooou.”

“Oh, and now you insult me?” He turned his back to her again, walking out even faster. “Fine, then. I promise to no longer disturb ya gals.”

“Come ooon!” She jumped on the chair, very silly, hella cute. “That’s not faaair!”

“Neither is life, my dude!” And he whisked himself away for good.

“Did he just call me dude?” The girl, still quite befuddled, asked her friends. “Hey! Did you just call me...?”

Hopeless. Poor lass would get no answer from the man, who was now gone, moving back to Jonathan and John’s.

“Watch out.” Jonathan whispered to his companion, who was doubly startled: first by his whisper, then by the stranger’s growing figure, that tall and swaying beacon of light that burned brighter with each step. “That’s Joshua. Good mate, but maybe a little too intense for his own good.”

“Oh.” John gulped, and was left with little time to think about anything at all.

“Sorry to leave y’all hanging.” With brisk and stalwart moves, the stranger—Joshua—took a seat among them, sitting on it like a throne, as if he owned the entire table. “You must be...”

John’s eyes became marbles. They had to grow large and wide to take in all the light of that booming newcomer. “João.” He said, meek and timid. “I mean, John.” And cleared his throat. “You, uh...” Joshua’s lonely hand waved in the air, waiting for a shake. “Uh ... you...” He felt the chill of the cold sweat on his forehead. Hurriedly, a bit too worriedly, he stretched out his hand to give the acquaintance a proper greeting. “You, uh ... you can call me ... John.”

Jonathan gestured at John with a glass. “His actual name is Jo-an-uh, I mean, Jo-ahn-uhm. Mm, how do you pronounce it, again?”

“João.”

Joshua, now shaking John’s hand firmly, tried his tongue. “Jo-ah-oh.”

“Jo.” The boy took a pause. “Ão.”

“Jouh-ao.”

“For-, uh, forget it. You can just call me ... John. Means the same in your tongue.”

“Ah, well. You learn a new one every day, don’t we?” He let go of the boy’s hand (finally!) and switched his eyes back and forth from John to Jonathan, talking to both at once with a natural’s ease. “Some foreign names roll out of the tongue nicely. Some others,” he peeked at John, “not so much, I’m afraid.”

“Hmm, it’s...” John blushed. “It’s okay.”

He looked at his own hand. Warm. It was still warm and tense from the handshake. A firm shake, that guy had. Firm, lively, powerful. Just like the man himself.

“Well, John, I am called Joshua.” He announced. “You see, our names ain’t so difficult to remember.” He pointed to each as he called them out: “John, Jonathan, Joshua! I feel there’s a tongue-twister here, begging to be made.”

“Or a joke.” Jonathan almost ate his glass of rum, burping very loudly as he did. “John, Jonathan, and Joshua walk into a bar.” He had a near-paranormal ability to refill his cup as soon as it had left his lips.

“Hmm. What is a good word with jay for ‘walking?’”

Jonathan looked at him, rather puzzled, a little bothered, yet decided to play along. “Jaywalking?”

“No, no, no. A word for ‘walking,’ like, ‘to walk, to stroll’, the verb, but starting with the letter jay.”

“Why do you wanna know that?”

“Just humor me, okay?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Well...” He checked on his brain for one second, then two, then... “Jogging?”

“Nah. Not the same thing.”

“Jaunting?”

“Is that a word?”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Jaunting, like ... for what?”

“To jaunt?”

“To ... jaunt.”

“Never heard this word before?”

Joshua shook his head vigorously. “I dummy.”

“Well, that’s the word. Jaunt. To jaunt. Kind of means, like ... to walk. Not exactly the same, but...” Again, a shrug. “Close enough. Closer than ‘jogging’, that is.”

“We both dummies.”

“Shut up.”

Joshua jolted, full of electricity. “To jaunt! Jaunting! Heck, I like it! And what would be a word for ‘bar’, but also starting with the letter jay?”

“Joint.”

“Oh, wow, quick, this one, eh? You’re quick.”

“I’m sober. Brain’s working fine.”

“I’m sober too.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, perhaps I’m a little... hic! Tipped over the edge.” He looked at John, a child-like excitement flaring from his eyes. “John, Jonathan, and Joshua jaunt into a joint!” He snapped his fingers at Jonathan’s face. “That’s a tongue twister for ya!”

“Wow. What a worthwhile endeavor, this was.”

“I smart. I genius.”

“Shut up and drink your ale.”

Though John had barely noticed, his own mug of beer was down and dry by a third. “John, Jonathan, Josh. And there’s Johanna too.” Joshua kept musing. “The Jay Quartet.” He snapped his fingers at Jonathan’s face. “Hey, yo, Jojo, that’d be a good name for your band.”

“Shut it.”

“It’s catchy. Maybe this time it will be successful.”

Jonathan pointed a finger at Joshua’s face. “Shut. It. You clown.”

“Wow, you were really counting on this night, eh?”

“Mmph.” He drank his booze, dissolving his irritation into regret. “We did have a shot. Once. You know.”

“Nah, we didn’t.”

“You had to leave, hadn’t you? Things were never the same without you.”

“I know, I know.” Joshua played with his hair. He had a beautiful, smooth dark mane, kept short and messy only on purpose. “Y’all lost half the audience when I left. The female half, that is.”

“Hah, hah.”

As if to prove his point, Joshua peeked at his side, over his shoulder, back at the table with the women. They were still eyeing him.

“Mmph.” Jonathan grumbled. “Can’t say you’re easy to replace.” Joshua’s triumphant smiles, which never seemed to fade, only made his words heavier, much harder to come out. “Son of a bitch. You were ... quite the talented lead.”

“I was amazing, say it.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m no longer into being poor.”

“Well, if you ever reconsider...”

“No, thanks. Last time was enough. Enough poverty for a lifetime.”

“You only stayed a year.”

“And it was one year too many.” For once, Joshua lowered his shoulders, the light of his smile greatly dimmed. “I need to find myself a more stable position in life.”

“Uh-huh.” This time, it was Jonathan’s turn to flash a covert smile. “So I guess Johanna was right, eh?”

“Fuck off.”

“Heh, heh.”

Just as John was beginning to feel lost...

“So, loverboy!”

... the universe snapped back into the world, the two chatty men pulling him just like a black hole would do a lone, passing star.

“Joshua, take it easy.”

“Easy is my whole style.” He winked. “So, little John. Jonathan here was telling me about your girlfriend situation.”

“Girlfriend ... situation?” There were so many emotions in John’s look that his eyes became indecipherable.

“Don’t mind him.” Jonathan burped, his eyes swaying from side to side. “Joshua is a fiend and a rouser. He likes poking snake pits just to get a kick out of their hisses.”

“You do me, dear Jojo, a great disservice.”

“Uh, I...” John tried to squeeze himself back into the talk. “It’s okay, no ... uh, no worries.”

“See, Jojo? Boy’s tougher than he looks.”

“Joshua, I swear...”

“And I ... uh ... oh...” John tipped and toed around their words, trying to gain ground and stay ahead, striving, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to remain in the lead of that chat. “There’s no, uh, girlfriend situation ‘cause ... uh...” His eyes swayed and swung, kind of adorably, like a puppy trying to make friends in its new pack. “There’s no girlfriend.”

“Yet.” Joshua winked. Jonathan felt the need to interject:

“I literally didn’t say anything that I shouldn’t have. Trust me.” He looked at John. “We were just talking, joking around, and then I mentioned, well...” He lowered his voice. “Your ladies thing. Your situation with women.”

“Or lack thereof.”

“Help me out here, Josh.”

“It, it’s ... it’s okay.” John just shook his head firmly and tapped on the table with his fingers. “I get it, uh ... no hard feelings.”

“You see, Jojo? You underestimate the chap.” Joshua turned to John, his smile lifting his soul and filling it with butterflies. “You should have met me first. A shy person meeting Jonathan is like, hmm, a block of ice falling onto an iceberg.” He clapped his hands. “Not much of a difference, is there?”

“You’re a fucker. Have I told you that already?”

“I don’t think you have.”

“You’re a fucker.”

“Oww.” Joshua warmed his left breast with both hands, teary eyes beaming with candor.

“So, uh...” John, once again, like a caterpillar amongst snakes, tried to retake the reins of that prattle. “What exactly has he, uh ... has Jonathan, I mean...”

“Jonathan, Jonathan!” Joshua cut him off. “You can call him Jojo. We all call him that. Jonathan’s too many syllables anyway. Three syllables, yuck! One too many, in my opinion.”

“What’s with you and words tonight?”

“If it depended on me, all words would have two syllables, and no more. We would achieve world peace. Utopia.” He hiccuped, then doused his loins in yet more heavy liquor. “Hell is grammar. We should all go back to grunts. And swinging on trees.”

“You’re not funny when you’re drunk. Beats the whole point of being drunk.”

“What’s. Up. With. You. Tonight. Eh, Jojo?” Joshua laughed.

“Just please promise you’re not going to get into another ... situation. Not tonight, not with him here, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what situation, anyway?” Joshua gestured broadly at his surroundings. “It’s not as if I can pick up fights with ghosts! Nobody left in this cemetery-looking joint.”