by Nick Braker
Asher started to respond but was drowned out by a loud, piercing wail from several fire alarms. Smoke poured out of the restroom and into the main area. Some customers panicked and were making a mad dash for the exits. Asher stood, motioning them toward an exit furthest from the smoke.
“This way, everyone, we’re leaving through there,” he pointed.
He took Candice’s hand, leading them all outside. He remembered hearing the introductions at the table earlier and even the waitress asking for their drink order. He had long hated the fact that he really couldn’t tune out things around him and for the last several months it felt worse. While things were looking bad for the restaurant, he still hoped to salvage the luncheon. The restaurant was smoking very heavily but there was little in the way of an actual fire. The strange behavior of the man who had entered and just as quickly left the restroom bugged him. He scanned the parking lot for him but the guy was already long gone.
No sign of him.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked.
They all said yes or nodded their heads. The parking lot was chaotic, with people running back and forth. They needed to get away. This fire would simply add an unwanted delay to his plans and, while he wanted to make some headway with Candice, he hated the idea of waiting around for the police since the fire was not serious and everyone had gotten out safely. They would want to interview all of them and ask questions about the incident. He didn’t want to get involved; at least, not in that way. He’d have gone after the guy from the restroom if he’d had a chance.
Now, that would have rocked.
Candice was looking at him again. She had checked on her friends and was now back, standing in front of him.
“Asher, we’re heading back to school. Our sorority, Pi Delta Delta, is near Cambridge. If you happen to be heading that way...,” she said.
Her voice wavered with nervous energy but she continued.
“Perhaps you could look us up? There is a party tomorrow night.”
The letters MIT and PDD.
He put the pieces together and they fit. The trinkets, the book, and her obvious intelligence. The car, too, perhaps a gift from her father.
“I’m heading to Massachusetts myself,” he smiled. “What a coincidence.”
“Uh huh,” she said, unconvinced. “It could be an adventure of a lifetime.” Candice paused. “If you guys get hungry near Cambridge, there is a restaurant I would recommend, Annie Oakley’s Bar and Grill. It’s always packed and it has it all; atmosphere, taste, variety, and service.”
He nodded, wanting to chuckle. She was smart.
“Look, we’re going to slip out. I’m not really interested in the long question and answer session from the police,” he said.
“We’ll hang around and do our duty,” she said, giving him a mock salute.
Asher described the guy who made a hasty exit and asked Candice if she would relay the information to the police. She nodded.
The area had settled down a bit. Most people milled around the parking lot talking and assessing each other for injury. He motioned his friends toward the car. He slid into the front seat as he waved goodbye to Candice and her friends. The car pulled out of the lot with a few chirps from the tires. Sirens from the approaching fire trucks screamed in the distance, telling everyone that help was on the way. The sights and sounds of the chaos were fading in the distance as the Camaro reached cruising speed on the interstate. His hands smelled metallic and smoke still lingered in his car, though the wind from the road had already recycled the air several times. The smoke could still be seen in the sunny afternoon sky as the small roadside stop was finally out of sight.
Asher cursed his luck that the incident did not turn out as he had wanted but there was still tomorrow night. He reflected back on it making mental notes and plans for when he met Candice again.
Roughly two hours later, his thoughts were once again interrupted by Brandon’s numeric outburst.
“Five,” he yelled out.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell are you doing yelling out numbers like that?” Greg asked.
Brandon ignored him and instead turned on the stereo. He found AC/DC in Asher’s music collection. Brandon answered his question with 120 decibels of ‘Highway to Hell’.
Three minutes later, Brandon smacked the dash with both hands.
“Oh shit!” he yelled. “Asher! Dude, pull over! Pull over!”
Asher hit the brakes, steering the car to the shoulder. Brandon jumped out even before the car came to a stop. He ran to the back of the car, opened up the trunk and pulled out a six-pack of Michelob. He jumped back in the car and handed one to each of them.
“Dudes, we’re in Kentucky!” pointing to a sign that read, “Welcome to Kentucky.”
Everyone in the car sighed as they realized Brandon had done a countdown to the state line because Greg had given him a hard time about drinking before getting out of the state.
“Dude, you know it’s pretty much illegal in every state,” Greg panned.
“Shaddup and drink. We’re getting the party started!” Brandon said, yelling over the music.
Earth - Massachusetts
May 26, 1987 - 6:51pm
Hours passed, with each of them taking turns driving and sleeping. Asher wanted to make Cambridge by Wednesday. They drove through the night, stopping an hour or so at a time for bathroom breaks and food. Asher found himself annoyed with the frequency of the stops due to Weston’s seemingly infantile bladder capacity. At one of these stops, Asher bought a map so they could make it to Massachusetts. It was well into the next day on Tuesday that they were getting close to Cambridge. They had made good time sharing the driving so he figured they could take a break. They were all in good spirits too when a road sign for Annie Oakley’s came into view.
That’s the place Candice mentioned.
“Anyone hungry or need to take a piss?” asked Asher, smirking.
“Both,” replied Weston, and the other two nodded likewise.
Asher took the exit and followed the signs to the restaurant. The light outside grew dimmer as the sun started to set over the horizon. He didn’t know exactly where the sorority was but he’d find out. Someone who worked here would know... he hoped.
They climbed out, stretching their legs and arms. The restaurant was fashioned in a western motif. Its flashing neon sign out front was taller than the two story building by about twenty feet and the letter ‘k’ was burned out on both sides. The parking lot was nearly packed, with a few spots open near the street. Trucks filled most of the lot, with cars and a few vans scattered throughout. The air, even near the street, smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke. As they approached, customers were both arriving and leaving although, Asher thought, mostly arriving. The evening had started and so it seemed had the festivities at Annie Oakley’s.
A sign at the entrance read ‘3 for 1 night on draft beer’.
“Damn, three for one,” Brandon said, perking up. “Someone buy the first one and the next two are on me.”
“That’s the kind of guy you are, always thinking of helping out your friends. Your generosity is exceeded only by your good looks, my brother,” Weston replied, laughing.
The four of them entered to find the place almost full to capacity. The dance floor was straight ahead and extended out to the right. The crowd filled the floor shoulder to shoulder, dancing to the deafening music. There were two bars with one immediately to the right and the other located above it on the second floor. Both ran along most of the wall. The interior was smoky but otherwise looked clean and respectable. Asher made his way through the crowd looking for a table. A few moments later he spied one on the second floor and then motioned the others to the open stairwell on the far side of the dance floor. He pointed toward the open table and the rest of them followed him up the stairs, moving past the second bar. The table was next to a window overlooking the parking lot below. His car was visible from it.
A woman, somewhere in her thirties, approached wea
ring the logo of the bar on her blue t-shirt. Her uniform was reasonably pressed but was already beginning to show food and drink stains accruing for the night.
“What can I get you boys?” she said with a heavy Texan accent.
“Wow, is that part of the ambiance here or is your accent authentic?” Greg asked.
She laughed, leaning in over the table.
“Now,” she said in an equally heavy Boston accent. “Don’t tell the boss I dropped out of character. No, it’s part of the job.”
“Say park the car for me. Would ya?” Greg asked, as they all laughed.
“Nope, what can I get ya boys to drink?” she asked, denying him his request.
Brandon pointed at Greg, taunting him for his failure. Greg frowned, saying nothing.
“I want the three for one special but just get me the last two and charge my friends here for the first one,” Brandon joked.
“Doesn’t work that way, you buy one, you get two free, and no one else drinks ‘em. Got it?”
Asher and Greg both pointed at Brandon, taunting him back, laughing. Asher started to respond but an attractive young woman at the cash register near the bar caught his eye. Her dark chocolate colored hair came down in equally straight lines on both sides of her face to her shoulders. She wore blue jeans with three letters embroidered on her rear back pocket, which Asher was already focusing on. The letters were P-D-D.
Pi Delta Delta?
Her cowgirl boots and light tan shirt made her about the sexiest woman he’d seen in a long time - well, since yesterday anyway. Her eyes met his briefly before she looked back at the bartender.
She’s buying something... and that something will keep her there long enough for me to say ‘hi’.
“Get me your best draft beer with the special,” he told the waitress as he got up and made a bee-line straight toward her.
The brunette must have felt him staring at her, she looked up at him almost immediately.
“My name is Asher and I’m damn glad to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
“Jules,” she replied.
Her tone was clearly cautionary but the rest of her was relaxed as she turned to face him.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you stand out in a crowd,” he said.
He took in every detail he could on her. She wore no jewelry or rings which spoke volumes about her.
“I do? What is it about me that stands out?” she replied, while holding up one finger to him as the bartender interrupted them.
“That will be $320 for the kegs,” he said.
“Thank you. Would you get someone to load it in my truck, please?” she asked. “It is the dark blue Ford near the front entrance in the drive-up area.”
“No problem. Should be done in about ten minutes,” the bartender replied.
“You happen to be the best looking girl here,” Asher said. “But it’s your dark brown eyes that are stunning. They are so penetrating and intense. I feel like you’re looking into my soul.”
“Why, thank you. Forgive my brutal honestly but I have to tell you from what I see of your soul, it seems pretty hot there. Have you been bad?” she said, smirking.
“I can’t lie to someone who sees so deeply into my soul. Very bad but in a good way.”
She shifted her weight to look over his right shoulder.
“Are those your friends at the table near the window?” she asked.
“’’Friends would be a little too much but I guess you could call them that,” he joked.
“Well, I am heading back to my sorority. We are throwing a party tonight.” she said.
“What’s the party for?”
“Does a party need a reason?”
“Nope.”
She laughed. The pupils of her eyes grew larger.
“Would you like to attend?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I met another one of your--”
A young woman bumped into him from behind, trying to move past.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No problem at all,” he replied, smiling.
She nodded and walked away.
“Great,” Jules said, her eyes lighting up. “Let me write down the directions and you can consider this an invitation. You four look harmless enough.”
She smiled warmly at him as she handed him the directions on the back of the receipt.
“Dress as you are but I hope you have some swimwear, too,” she added.
“Jules, it is entirely my pleasure. I’ll be there to get the party started after we finish eating here. Count on it.”
“I am sure you will,” she said, giggling. “See you then.”
Asher started to mention Candice again but he wasn’t sure now which of the two he would hook up with tonight. Since she had given him an invite as well, his options were open with both of them. Perhaps neither if he found someone better.
He watched her leave. Her movements were all female as her hips swayed back and forth while she descended the stairs. She navigated across the dance floor and headed out the door.
“Wait for it,” he told himself.
She looked back at him at the doorway.
“There’s my sign,” he said.
“What sign?” Brandon asked as him and Greg walked up to stand behind him.
“Gentleman, we have a party to go to and here are the directions.”
Brandon tried to grab the paper but it was Greg who snagged it.
“I’ll take that. Do I need to remind you of the last time you tried to navigate for us?” Greg said sourly.
“Kiss my ass.” Brandon laughed.
“Not after all those years you spent in prison.” Greg responded while they walked back to their table.
The noise in the place grew louder as they gave the waitress their orders. The music and the conversations around them filled the place and it was hard to hear.
Their food had just arrived at what seemed like the height of noise for the evening. Full of beer, three glasses in all, Greg was already slurring words. He was a cheap drunk but Asher had seen all of them drunk many times in their long history and Greg was capable of overcoming the effects when needed. He’d be fine.
Brandon and Weston had ordered hamburgers. Greg had ordered a filet, medium rare. The blood in Greg’s plate gave Asher a sick feeling. Asher was disgusted with the idea of eating meat that wasn’t cooked well done.
“Dude, you ordered that steak rare just to rub it in my nose,” Asher said.
“Yep, and the best part is I like them that way. Win-win for me,” Greg said, enjoying the look on Asher’s face.
The checks arrived and Greg handed his straight to Asher. He frowned but took it. They paid their checks and left, heading straight to the sorority.
“It’s going to be a great night, bruthahs,” he said but then glared at Greg. “Even if I have a vampire as a friend.”
Chapter 5
SORORITIES
Earth - Massachusetts
May 26, 1987 - 8:00pm
“I’m telling you man, that sign read Pi Delta Delta,” Brandon said from behind Greg, obviously irritated.
They had just passed a sign in front of a large building. The lighting on the sign was weak but even Asher had to agree it read Pi Delta Delta.
“Look at the damn directions,” Greg said, even more irritated. “We have not followed them completely. Do you think the girl who gave them doesn’t know how to get to her own sorority?”
Greg was a slave to his meticulous nature even more so in the last six months. Greg reread the directions the girl had given them at the bar. Greg checked them over again, taking note of each turning point and landmark.
“This girl is sharp and meticulous. I can tell by the way she wrote them. I’m telling you... I know we are not there yet. We have not passed the gas station that she mentioned,” Greg said. He shook his head. “I would be stuck with you three dudes only if we left navigation to Brandon.”
Asher hit the brakes har
d, turning the car around. He didn’t even bother to look at any of them.
“Dudes, it’s a’ight. We’re here. It won’t take but a few seconds to check it out. Who knows, Weston could be using his voodoo mumbo-jumbo to get us here and we could miss the road trip of all road trips. The road trip pinnacle, even.”
“His luck? That shit ain’t real,” Greg added.
They had spent a lot of time in the car since starting the trip. It was beginning to wear on everyone with the exception of Weston. He seemed to be just taking it all in stride, perhaps enjoying the fact that he was away from all of his responsibilities.
“Weston, could I get an assist?” Asher asked. “Slap some heads or something. Troop dissension will make the ladies look elsewhere. Do NOT let them interfere with my chances tonight. I am holding you personally responsible, bruthah.”
“Just get out of the car, Asher, and let’s start this pinnacle thing.” Weston shook his head slightly, grinning. “They will be alright once we get there. Besides, it wouldn’t be much of an adventure if we didn’t have a little conflict.”
Brandon had both hands on the front seat, pulling himself forward to see more. As they once again pulled within view of the sorority’s sign, Brandon started shaking the seat.
“Behold, bitches. I told you it said Pi Delta Delta. Move your asses, losers, and point me to this pinnacle thingy and it had better be packing a cold one and dying to just love me a long time.”
Greg examined the directions again and mumbled. He was so intent on figuring it out that he completely ignored the violent movements of his seat. Asher raised his hand, glaring at Brandon in the rear view mirror. They had all been drinking even before dinner and the effects were showing.
“Damn it, Brandon. Easy on the ride, bro, don’t make me take it out of your hide.”
“By the time we get back, your sweet ride won’t be worth any more than my six month old Converses,” Brandon grinned.
He pulled into the gravel parking lot and eased closer to the sorority house. The single-story building was a basic red brick rectangle, having a concrete slab for a front porch. On either side of the porch were some box hedges and an evergreen at the two front corners. Bright lights could be seen from every window. He stopped the car and they got out. Brandon fell out of the back seat but caught himself with one hand on the ground.
