I turned on the overheads and reached into the maintenance closet to grab some rags and cleansers. The ballasts were old, so it took a moment before the bulbs yawned on to reveal the shabbiness of the space. The theme of Hal’s Taproom was essentially “old and uninspired.” Zach had big plans for the future, but for now, the bar featured mismatched tables and chairs sandwiched between dark-paneled walls lined with neon beer signs.
But no matter how dingy, proximity to UCLA kept Hal’s in the black. The students drawn in by convenience and cheap drafts often reminded me why “college kids” was a phrase and “college adults” was not. I envied them their energy and carefree hubris—how confidently they laughed, their certainty of a bright future. I sighed as I rounded up stray pint glasses.
Toward the edge of the bar, I noticed what appeared to be a stack of rumpled blankets propped against the wall, in a space just shadowy enough to be hidden without the overheads on.
Moving closer, I discovered the pile of blankets was actually a cape, a cape being worn by someone passed out and leaning their face against a sticky barstool. What the hell? I reached out hesitantly.
“Hey. You can’t be here. It’s time to go.”
No response. Thankfully, I could see the rise and fall of Blanketcape’s chest, reassuring me they were breathing.
“Hey!”
I was louder this time and poked a little. Still nothing. But when I nudged again, a dented silver flask fell out of the cape and clanked onto the floor. Shit! No wonder they were so wasted, if they’d brought their own stuff into the bar. We wouldn’t have over-served anyone to this degree, and I couldn’t remember seeing Blanketcape here earlier at all.
A low groan reverberated throughout the room as Blanketcape—who I could now see was a woman—stirred and rolled to her side. I guessed her to be in her early forties. Half her stringy bleached hair had escaped the clip at her neck, and she wore no makeup. Dark jeans and a t-shirt under her cape were the extent of her costume.Jedi? Hobbit? One of Robin Hood’s merry men?I experienced a kindred connection with her lazy attempt at Halloweening.
I shook her gently. “Can I call you a taxi or something?”
She peered at me, dazed and unfocused. After a few moments, she handed me her phone. “Can you call Tommy, please?”
I had been a bartender on and off for much of my adult life, and I’d provided this service more often than I’d have liked. The person who answered, if they picked up at all, was never glad to get this call. I could only hope whoever was at the other end of the line was not a shoot-the-messenger type. I took Blanketcape’s ancient iPhone, already unlocked, and found someone in her favorites listed as Tommy.
Pressing the call button, I internally cursed the bar gods for the awkward conversation that was about to ensue. Or the voice mail I was about to leave, being that it was three o’clock in the morning. It rang a few times and I hoped like hell Tommy wasn’t one of those responsible people who powered down their phone at night.
“Mom?” a husky voice rasped into my ear.That voice…
“Um…no, sorry. Hi. Um…I’m a bartender at Hal’s…on Westwood…and I’m here with this woman. She’s…um…passed out. Or I guess she’s awake now. At least a little. Anyway. She’s here and she told me to call you. She gave me her phone. So, I did.” Nope. Not awkward at all.
“Did you say Hal’s?”That raspy tenor…
“Uh-huh.” I stuttered. “Do you know it?”
“Um…Yeah…I’ve…been there.” The man on the other end of the line mumbled.That deep, throaty timbre…
He’d been to the bar? Tommy? Had I met any Tommys? Awareness pricked at my skin as I replied tightly. “Well, she’s here and, uh, needs to get picked up. She said to call you.”
“Damn. I can’t believe this. Except…of course she went to Hal’s…after I told her…Wow.” Tommy spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper. I could barely hear him, and the words I could discern made little sense. But then his exhale came through the line. “Okay. I was just heading home so I can be there pretty quick. Give me fifteen?”
God, that voice.He said he knew the bar.Tommy almost sounded like… No. Just stop it, Sadie.
“No problem. We’re still cleaning up anyway.” My tone wavered only slightly.
“Okay. Thanks. I’m on my way. And, um, you’ll be there, right?”
“I’ll be here.”
A knock camefrom the entrance as I was cleaning the icemaker. Since it was the middle of the night, it seemed prudent to be cautious.
“Who is it?” With no peephole, shouting through the wooden door was my only option.
“Hey, it’s…uh…Tommy.”
I swung open the door to find a grown man in a skeleton costume, complete with full face makeup, looking like one of the Cobra Kai bullies who beats up Daniel inThe Karate Kid. I glanced at him briefly—less than a second—before giving him my back and gesturing that he should follow me into the bar.
You didn’t need more than a second. He could have been wearing a garbage bag and a mask and you’d still know.Somehow, I kept my voice steady as I spoke, even as my insides shook.
“It was me who called you. She told me to, so I figured it would be okay.” I lifted my hand self-consciously toward my dirty, sweaty face, still not looking at Tommy.
