Devious Origins

by Thad Phetteplace

CHAPTER 3

  When the Vespa screeched to a halt in front of the Brass Rail, I resisted the urge to leap off and kiss the ground. Instead I calmly dismounted, removed the helmet, then used one of the scooter's mirrors to check my hair and straighten my tie again. Dee jumped off and stashed her goggles in the Vespa's storage bin, then turned to me and said, “You look fine, Barry. Heck, you look too good for this place.”

  “We might actually be a bit overdressed,” I replied.

  “No helping it now. Lead on MacDuff.”

  “You know that play doesn't end well, right?”

  “Don't be such a buzz-kill. I just scored myself a kickin' lair. I feel like celebrating.”

  We walked up to the entrance of the Brass Rail, its dignified oak door belying the raucous atmosphere that lied beyond. Loud music and numerous voices leaked through as an indistinguishable droning.

  “You ever been here before?” I asked before opening the door.

  “Nope. Never went out much when I was actually a student here. Pretty much a study-o-holic the whole time.”

  I tried to picture her sitting quietly with a stack of books, studying. No... my brain couldn't form the image.

  “Its not too late,” I suggested, “We could go someplace quieter.”

  “You can't chicken out on me now, Barry. You've got to introduce me to your friends. Let's go. The only way out is through.”

  “Robert Frost. Well... almost.”

  “Yes, I know. He really said 'the best way out is always through'... and Shakespeare actually said 'Lay on, MacDuff', not 'lead on'... but nobody actually talks like that. It is irresistible how literate you are, but I'll like it even more with a drink in my hand.”

  She was right. I was procrastinating. And being obnoxiously pedantic besides. It was just that the idea of her and my classmates actually interacting was somehow frighting... like throwing a bobcat into a box full kittens. They didn't know what they were in for.

  She pulled the door open. The sound hit us like a physical wave. We stepped in, and the bouncer asked us for ID. I was temped to steal a glance at Dee's license as she flashed it just to see if her name really was Diana, but I didn't think I could do it without being obvious. We waded into the crowd.

  It wasn't as packed as a Friday night, but it was a respectable crowd. Dollar Tapper Wednesdays was a decent draw. I scanned the crowd for my friends, finally spotting them at a table against the far wall.

  “I see them,” I yelled to Dee, pointing in the direction we needed to head. Jake was the first to react when we showed up.

  “Barry, you made it!” he exclaimed, then looking my suit, “and from a funeral no less.”

  “Real funny, Jake,” I answered, “This is my friend, Dee. Dee this is Jake. Don't believe anything he says about me. The big guy next to him is Tony. Next to him is Sara, then Kelly, Robert... don't call him Bob... and Michael. I've known Jake since freshman year. Sara, Kelly, and Michael almost as long. We've had a lot of classes together. Tony and Robert joined us only this year, switched over to comp sci from the business management program, but we're trying not to hold that against them.”

  Hellos were exchanged all around. The music was a notch lower than deafening in this corner of the place, so we could actually talk without yelling ourselves hoarse. Jake poked me with an elbow, then gave me a smart-ass smile and covert thumbs up when he thought Dee wasn't looking.

  Tony downed the last of his beer and then declared, “You are just in time to buy a round. It's your penalty for being late.”

  I hadn't planned on drinking much, in part because of a low tolerance for alcohol but mostly because of even lower funds. Buying a round would pretty much wipe me out, even on dollar tapper night. Fortunately, Dee came to my rescue like the hero she claimed to be.

  “Oh let me get this one,” she declared, “I totally owe Barry big time. He really helped me out of a jam today.”

  “OK, spill it,” Sara insisted, “What did mister knight in shining polyester do?” She leaned back and sipped her beer as they all waited for an answer.

  “It's really not that exciting,” Dee responded, “and I would be embarrassed to tell you the whole story. I'll just say he stepped up and stood by me at the courthouse when I really needed a friend.”

  Tony donned a sympathetic look, nodded his head, and answered, “I hear ya, sister. I've been there myself.”

  “Yeah, but I doubt she was there for streaking through the quad wearing nothing but a football helmet and a number painted on her chest,” Kelly shot back with suppressed laughter.

  “Oh my god, that was you?” Dee asked, “I remember seeing that on the local news.” Tony turned several shades of red in quick succession. “Oh don't worry,” she quickly assured him, “they blurred your junk out.” That just sent everyone into outright laughter. Even Tony couldn't help but join in.

  “I wasn't supposed to be the only one,” he insisted after a moment, “but everyone else wussed out on me.”

  “Dude, you got punked,” Kelly stated, “They were never going to join you.”

  “Yeah, well I found myself a better class of friends.” With that, Tony raised his glass, and the others raised theirs in response.

  “To new friends,” Jake toasted, nodding toward Dee. Dee smiled and nodded back.

  “Now is probably a good time for us to get the next round,” she answered, “Barry, would you help me?” We headed for the bar.

  “Your friends seem nice enough,” she stated as we dodged our way through the crowd.

  “Yeah, they're a stand up bunch,” I agreed.

  All thought of normal conversation faded as we we wound our way past the speaker stacks near the dance floor. We reached the bar, and I signaled to the bartender by holding up eight fingers. She pulled back the tap and passed glasses under it in rapid succession, never turning it off until all eight were filled with the house special. Dee slid ten dollars over to the bartender. I prepared to grab four of the glasses by wedging them against each other in a two handed grip, but then Dee stopped me and said, “Slow down, cowboy, I got this.”

  She sauntered over to the waitress station at the end of the bar and casually plucked a plastic tray from a stack of them. After loading our beers onto the tray, she hoisted it over her head with one hand, and proceeded to weave her way back through the boisterous crowd with the finesse and grace of a ballet dancer. I followed behind and wondered why she had even asked me along.

  We arrived back at the table and distributed the beverages. Dee collected up the empties, preparing to take them and the tray back to the bar. As she stepped away from the table, a well dressed man walked up and said something to her that I couldn't quite hear. He pointed to the another table closer to the dance floor as he said it. Dee nodded to him, turned to me, winked, then walked off. I watched her cross back to the bar, unload the tray, then go back to the other table and load up with even more empties. She talked to the people at the table, returned to the bar and fetched several more beers back to their table. I saw her do this with two more tables before ditching the tray and heading back to us. My friends were so engrossed in their own conversations I don't think they noticed any of this.

  “Have you figured it out yet, Barry?” she asked me as she drew near.

  “I don't understand,” I answered.

  “That guy was the bar manager. He thought I was one of the staff.”

  “OK, I think I got that much...”

  “You asked me a question earlier. Keep your eyes open and you might learn the answer.” Her smile was mischievous. Finally, she turned and joined a conversation that Robert and Kelly were having about the transformative effect of social networking on the business / consumer relationship. She slid so smoothly into their conversation, it was if she had been part of it right from the beginning. Over the course of the evening, she would repeat this pattern several more times with the rest of my friends.

  At som
e point I stopped thinking about it or even noticing. We were all just one big group of friends having an enjoyable evening. We stayed probably later than we should have, drank more beer than was wise, but we eventually gave in to the reality that Thursday would arrive all too soon, and we had classes to attend. Sara and Kelly were the first to leave, followed not long after by Robert and Micheal, then Tony and Jake.

  The reality was setting in for others as well. The crowd had thinned quite a bit since happy hour had concluded. No doubt some would stay till closing, probably regretting it tomorrow when they tried to drag themselves to class. A few were already quite intoxicated despite the night actually being rather young. At one point it looked like a fight might break out, but then the two young men were slapping each other on the back and laughing... false alarm. A young woman had evidently drunk so much she was finding it difficult to walk. The guy with her had to nearly carry her as they left. Dee watched all this, scanning the room and absorbing all the details even as we continued chatting.

  Finally Dee said, “Well, I should probably get going too, I've got some things to do.”

  “Me too,” I replied, “I've got a class at 9 AM tomorrow and some studying to do tonight.”

  We made our way outside. The sun was only just beginning to set. That always seemed unnatural to me; leaving a bar while the sun was still up. We stopped at the Vespa.

  “Should I drop you somewhere?” She asked. I appreciated the offer, but somehow I sensed her heart wasn't really in it. Her gaze drifted away as she talked. Her mind seemed elsewhere.

  “No, my dorm isn't far from here, I can walk.”

  She just nodded, donned her goggles and helmet, and climbed onto the scooter. She seemed about to start it, then stopped, and turned her attention fully back to me.

  “I'm really glad you asked me along, Barry. I'm glad I got the chance to meet your friends.”

  “You seemed to really hit it off with them,” I replied.

  “Yeah, I get along with people well enough. I do fine at dinner parties. I mean, I know what fork to use and how to make polite conversation... but real connections. Real friendships. Believe it or not, I've never been so good with that. I... I have a hard time showing people the real me.”

  “And what have I seen?” I asked, “Have I seen the real you?”

  “Barry, I promise you're getting the real deal, as much as I can share with anyone. And I hope I am getting the real you. That's what tonight was really about for me. I wanted to meet your friends so I could better understand you. We don't stop at our own skins. We are the people we connect with. We are the choices we make. I can't really know you unless I meet the people you spend your time with.”

  “And that is important to you? Really knowing me?”

  “It's absolutely critical, Barry. I can't have a stranger with me... not where I'm going.” And then before I could answer, she started the Vespa and rocketed off. I watched her shrink into the distance until she turned a corner and disappeared. I began walking home.

  I was halfway back to my dorm when it struck me. At some point during the day's adventure, I had lost my blue binder.