Out of Nowhere

by William Cali

  Pent was about halfway through the glass when he felt a smack on his back.

  “Looks like you made it.” Greg cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth in a goofy grin.

  “Looks like I did, Greg.”

  Pent’s coworker took a seat at the bar next to him.

  “Polly you know he’s got my drinks tonight, yeah? Three-dollar pints, all on Pent.”

  The bartender shot a glance at Pent. “What’s he on about?”

  Pent wiped beer from the corner of his lip and laughed.

  “Yeah, he’s got it right. Just put it on my tab if you could. And I could use another one here.” He slid his empty glass forward.

  Greg grabbed at his glass greedily and raised it to his mouth. He took a swig and then paused, eyeing Pent cautiously. He gulped the beer down and raised his glass to Pent’s.

  “Cheers, buddy.”

  Pent smiled and clanged half empty glasses with Greg. “Cheers.”

  “It’s no wonder you can run a tab like you do. Getting tips, working overtime. I see you chasing that paper, man.”

  “Working overtime. Can you believe that? Only reason I got trapped there was ‘cause Steve called out sick. Wesley’s skinny ass asked if I could work late. Couldn’t think of a better place to be, so I said yes.”

  “Oh, called out sick alright. I saw that punk on the walk over here,” Greg said, doubled over with laughter.

  Pent raised an eyebrow as he lowered his glass to the counter.

  “No joke, man, no joke. Fool is walking around Chapel Street, blazed out of his mind drunk or something. Asked me if he could bum a cigarette.”

  “Pft, can’t believe this guy…”

  Greg laughed again.

  “Can you not? The dude’s life is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. So screwed up, but you just can’t turn away. You know, I’m surprised he can even hold this job. Doesn’t seem like material for the Market Palace.” He jammed his elbow in Pent’s ribs, grinning. “Guy never seemed like royalty, you feel me?”

  “‘Royalty,’ I love that,” Pent chuckled to himself. “You ever think that was a weird combination? The ‘Market Palace,’ that’s some kind of contradiction.”

  Greg downed half of his glass in one gulp.

  “It’s what now?”

  “It never made much sense to me. A market is a place you go to buy things and sell them too, right? Like, where you go to peddle all kinds of crap. Or a grocery store, something like that.”

  Greg burped. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Sounds about like a place we happen to work at.”

  “But a palace is where a king lives, or royalty anyway. Nothing like the customers we get, or the staff of the store for that matter.”

  “Pent, I don’t think there’s a soul alive who put any kind of thought into that name.” Greg chuckled into his glass. “Some rich white dude probably thought it sounded cool. It’s just a dumb name.”

  Pent sent his pint forward, the sliding glass panging as it slowed to a stop. He asked Polly for another with the wag of his finger.

  “I think you’re right.” He drummed his fingers on the side of his refilled glass. “It’s like everything else around here, half-assed.”

  Greg looked at Pent with puppy dog eyes, holding his empty glass towards the former linebacker. Give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile. Pent sighed and called out to Polly again, who brought another drink for Greg. He grabbed the glass as if his life depended on it.

  “Thanks. So why are you still here, man?”

  “Wow, real grateful for someone who just got two free drinks.”

  Greg downed his second drink in a few huge gulps and waved for another.

  “Looking more like three right now. That’s not what I’m saying, man. I’m saying here, in this town. You hate it here.”

  “Well, we can’t all love this place like you do.”

  “I think there’s a difference between loving a place, and not walking around all day with a scowl stapled to your face.” He waved his hand in front of Pent, hushing him. “I’m not saying you’re actually scowling, man. I’m saying it’s clear to everyone around you, you don’t want to be here.”

  “So, what am I supposed to do, just up and leave?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Pent opened his mouth to reply, but instead, put the tip of his glass to his lips. He drank for a moment before putting down the glass.

  “I’ve got too much to worry about here to just up and leave. And I don’t have any money.”

  “I dunno, man, you’re a smart guy, you’ll figure it out. You could take the rest of that money you got today, put it towards that.”

  “And my moms? You know how my dad just up and left, right? I can’t just bounce like his worthless ass. She needs me.”

  “I think she would be alright, knowing you were doing something aside from bagging groceries.”

  Pent laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult me or not. Why don’t you up and leave if it’s such a good idea?”

  “Maybe I will. All I’m saying is that you’re too smart for this here, man.”

  * * *

  The two men eventually wandered out of the bar, wallets lighter and heads heavier. Pent led the way out of the bar with Greg hot on his heels. Greg shouldered his way past Pent, and then tried to jump a puddle but missed his footing. He fell to the ground in a violent splash.

  “Ugh, my shoes, man,” Greg moaned, his face a mask of disgust. Pent leaned over to try and pick him up, but tipped over, falling to his side instead. Greg’s face broke in a tide of manic glee, and the two exploded into drunken laughter there on the cold sidewalk.

  “Good thing this is a nobody town. Anywhere else, someone would have called the cops by now.”

  Pent chuckled nervously. “You confident they haven’t? Let’s roll out of here.” He heaved himself to his feet, and then pulled Greg off the sidewalk with one hand.

  “Too strong! Looks like someone’s still eating their veggies.” Greg brushed his legs off, gasping for air between tremors of laughter. “Don’t understand why you carry that gun around, man, you still built like a tank.” He made a show of grabbing at Pent’s inner jacket holster, but Pent deftly stepped backward. “You trying to be some kind of cowboy or something?”

  A scene played out in Pent’s mind. Two knuckleheads, walking back from a convenience store. One of them lay sprawling on the ground, blood oozing from his wound. He tapped the silhouette of the gun pressed against his ribs.

  “It’s best to be prepared.”

  “Words so wise you say them a dozen times every day.” Greg chuckled to himself and then frowned. “Where is my damn car at?” He fumbled through his pocket for his keys. Pent stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm. Can’t let this fool drive home, he’s liable to kill himself.

  “Man, look at that moon, huh?” he said, pointing up into the sky.

  Greg gawked upwards. “Wha—the moon? What about it?”

  “It’s huge out tonight, can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a full moon,” Pent said, trying to focus on the glowing orb.

  Greg stood staring at it, slack jawed and glassy eyed. “Yeah, man, real big.”

  “It’s so nice out, not a cloud in the sky.”

  Pent stared up, lost in the stars. He could point out the North Star and a few others here and there, but even in this dead-zone town it was hard to make out any of the constellations. The only way to get a clear view was to drive an hour out into the country.

  “Real nice.” He turned to Greg, remembering his original plan, and reached into Greg’s coat pocket, fished the keys out, and then shoved them in his own pocket. Greg wobbled a bit but didn’t seem to notice the theft.

  With not a second to spare, Greg went groping for the keys again, this time cursing when he couldn’t find them.

  “Always misplacing those damned things, must have left them in the bar.” He swore to himself again, as Pent held back a chuckle.
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br />   “I know you’ll find ‘em, man. Just keep an eye out.” He snuck a glance at his phone. “Dang, it’s real late. I think I need to get on home.”

  “You need a lift?”

  “I drove here, man. Besides, think you need to get your keys first, buddy.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” Greg said, hiccupping.

  “It’s a nice enough night, think I’ll walk home.”

  “Yeah, yeah, need to find those damn keys.” He began to make his way back into the bar. Greg straightened up a bit and spoke to Pent without turning: “Man, you should do college or something.”

  Pent loosened his grip on the keys.

  “Think it’s a little too late for me to go back to school with all the kids.”

  “You don’t need to go and become a doctor or some nonsense. I’m talking like community college. You could handle that easy.” He paused, and Pent was sure he was going to tumble to the ground again. Finally, Greg spoke up, “I’m just saying, man, you’re a smart dude, you can find something else out there.”

  Pent stared at his drunk friend. He can be a real fool, but he’s a good guy at heart. Never seems to want to give up on me.

  “I’ll think on that… Thanks, man.” Pent briefly thought about handing Greg his keys. Nah, he’s being real insightful, but he’s still drunk as a skunk. “Really though, thanks. You be safe tonight, alright? Don’t get in any kind of trouble.”

  Greg choked back a laugh. “Me? Never! Maybe you should spend some time looking after yourself.” And with that, he wobbled back into the bar.

  * * *

  Pent couldn’t keep himself from wobbling. Man, how did I get so drunk? I’m stumbling like a school girl at her first house party.

  He narrowed his eyes at the street sign he was passing under.

  “Maple Street, that’s not right.” He had made a wrong turn and wandered for ten minutes in the wrong direction. “Terrific.” His mouth was dry, his head was spinning, and he felt the sudden urge to take a leak. I can’t go back by the bar, I’d probably run into Greg’s dumb ass still looking for his car keys.

  He turned down Maple Street, jogging now, trying to make up lost time. He passed a corner and almost tripped over a bum lying down on the sidewalk. “What the…” Pent considered the bundle of rags. Homeless. And I thought I had it rough.

  Even lying down, Pent could tell this man was tall. He was blanketed in rags, without a hair on his head, and he smelled like the inside of a gym bag after a cat pissed on it. His ears were odd, oversized and deformed. They looked like the cropped ears on a prize dog. I don’t want to know what the hell this guy has been through.

  “You roll the dice, and that could be anyone. It could be me,” Pent said to himself. The old bum stirred in his sleep. Pent reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, the last bill to his name. “Was planning on putting this to a new phone, but I bet you could make better use of it than me.” He slipped the twenty into the man’s shoe. The bum mumbled something under his breath, his body jerking away from Pent’s touch. Pent nodded and moved on.

  “Man, I drank too much.” He felt himself getting drunker as he sped down the sidewalk. Forward was becoming sideways, sideways was becoming upwards, and he needed a bathroom more than anything. He stumbled forward and grabbed the rail of a metal pole fence. The metal was cold to the touch, sending shivers up his spine and sobering him slightly.

  “Metal?” Pent glanced up. This wasn’t right either; he had gotten off his path again. In front of him was the entrance to a building he hadn’t been to in a long time. “Somerville Public Library, no kidding.” He stared at the building sign for the library.

  Pent smirked as he mimicked his friend’s voice: “I’m just saying, man. You’re a smart dude, you could handle that easy.” He swayed from side to side, thinking about himself in a classroom, surrounded by people seven years his junior. The idea made him laugh aloud.

  His laughter trailed off. He glanced behind him, thinking back to the homeless man he just passed. The roll of a dice, eh? Maybe Greg is right. Maybe I don’t have to live every day the same as the day before. He stared at the entrance to the library, feeling a strong desire to check it out. “Momma always says if I want something to happen, I need to make it happen.” He hiccupped, tasting Coors in the back of his throat.

  He nodded to himself again, still holding on to the metal railing for support.

  “I’m gonna make it happen. Let’s get a jump on this community college thing. Since I’m here and all.” He walked towards the door. “And, man, I really need to take a leak.” To his drunken surprise, when he pressed on the wooden door handle it opened with a creak.

  Pent poked his head in. A sober thought floated up to the surface of his drunken mind. This is dumb. I should probably just go home…

  “Hello?” he whispered into the shadows, glancing around nervously. “This has the making of a horror movie all over it.” With a shrug, he crept in slowly, ignoring his own dire thoughts.

  * * *

  The lobby of the library was blanketed in darkness. Should have brought a flashlight, not even the emergency exit signs are on. Small patches of light from the moon shined in through the windows, enough for Pent to make his way to the stacks.

  “Don’t mean to trespass,” Pent said to the darkness. His own voice echoed back to him. “Just trying to get a jump on this college thing.”

  He ruffled his nose at the smell of the library. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here. But damn… Mingling with the smell of old books was a rancid odor. The scent was faint, like a memory of years past. Urine mixed with funk. Maybe that homeless guy followed me in here? But the silence was numbing, and he knew he was alone. Pent tried to keep from gagging as he shuffled through the books at random.

  After a couple of minutes, he shook his head in frustration. This is pointless. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. What do I really need to read to get ahead in life? Maybe I should stick to shoveling the same crap I’ve been shoveling. It’s what I’m best at.

  He sat down at a studying nook, holding his spinning head in his hands. The light was behaving oddly, drawing his gaze. Am I really that drunk? The whole world is out of sync. The moonlight shining through the open windows appeared to set a path for him. Was that room… was that room always there? Rising sluggishly to his feet, Pent made his way to a room at the end of the stacks.

  The light cut through the rows of books and settled on a simple rolling cart at the back of the room. Wind rustled the pages of the books and sent shivers up Pent’s spine. The walls of the room were lined up and down with books, but he couldn’t make out the titles in the darkness. Where is that wind coming from? Goosebumps rose all over his skin as he approached the cart. He grabbed the side of it for support and saw a single book on top.

  Pent scooped up the book; its cover was ornately decorated with fancy lettering. “Cin… cin…?” He squinted as he tried to make out the title. Can’t read this chicken scratch. Pent turned the book over in his hands. It was rough to the touch and cold. And for an instant, Pent swore the book shimmered. Like every color of the rainbow. What was in those Coors? He shook his head, telling himself that he had imagined it.

  Pent flipped the book open to a random page and scanned the lines. He felt his vision begin to fade, as he fell, fell, fell into the darkness.

  Chapter Four

  “Wha—” Pent gasped for air as he saw the ground approaching rapidly. Bile rose in his chest as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. Am I in the sky? Cool air rushed through his curly hair, the wind buffeting him like he was on a rollercoaster during a big drop. But there’s no safety harness here! The trees and ground were so close now.

  I’m gonna hit that tree! I’m gonn—

  WHAM!

  A sharp pain coursed through his body as Pent’s shoulder slammed into the top of a tree. He had taken some hits from burly high schoolers before, but nothing like this. The air was hammer
ed from his lungs by the impact. Through the onslaught, he reached out and grabbed at the nearest branch. A half second after clutching it, the branch gave with a snap. Pent swung to the side, smacking into the body of the tree. He tumbled down, striking branch after branch, until he finally landed with a crunch onto his hip.

  * * *

  Pent was shell shocked. He gasped for air, trying to pull in and push out with his lungs deliberately. His heart began to calm down as he controlled his breathing, and he managed to sit up, propping himself up against the tree that had nearly skewered him like a kebob. His shoulder throbbed, definitely bruised but, luckily, not broken. A streak of red shined through a tear in his pants, but it was a minor cut. He was amazed to find that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. As far as he could tell, that fall should have killed him.

  Pent rose to his feet, but the blood rushing to his head almost forced him back down. He wobbled, sticking an arm out against the trunk of the tree for balance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jumbled mess of glass and plastic.

  “Damn it, I must have landed right on top of it.”

  He tipped the phone over and shards of glass spilled onto the ground beside him. He cursed to himself. “That’s a month’s pay right there.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he dropped the phone on the ground.

  He studied the tree that he had crashed into. It was tall, lush, green. “Green? But it’s November.” Last he remembered, autumn was in full effect. This tree should be covered with brown and orange leaves, with plenty of barren branches. Unless it was a pine. It didn’t look like a pine tree, and no pins stuck to his clothes. He sniffed the bark of the tree. It didn’t make him think of Christmas, not one bit.

  Pent took note of where he had fallen for the first time.