T S Brock Chapter NINE

CHAPTER NINE

    It was the last Saturday in August perfectly noon. The Lake House Bar had just opened as usual. Albert Strongbow was at the end of the bar reading a book folded out before him. His large silhouette captured a fair amount of sunlight flooding in from the long row of lakeside windows. The beach was already full, more blanket than sand, and hungry, hot, and thirsty bathers stood in long snake-like lines at the concession stands which were out of view. One could hear the thick wooden door being pushed open.

    Breaking the calm, Richie Flack perched on a stool near the entrance. “Give me a beer.”

    “You eighteen sunshine boy? Let me see your driver’s license.” Susana had known Richie Flack as the son of Molly Flack, owner of a massage parlor for as long as she cared to remember, but this was his first visit. Richie flipped open his billfold and handed it to her.

    “Shit. Just yesterday. I’m afraid your free drink has expired, kid.”

    Richie swilled his beer in magnificent jest and ordered another. He slapped two dollars on the oak bar then swilled again and ordered again. Susana was pissed off not to mention concerned.

    “Hey, little Richie. Take your birthday party elsewhere… You ain’t gettin’ no service here no more.”

    Richie turned to Albert who had been absorbed in reading. “What you reading degenerate?”

    Albert paused and glanced toward Richie, squinting. “I’m reading a book. How about you?” Albert focused on the boyish figure, knitting his brows.

   “I ain’t reading shit.”

   “That doesn’t surprise anyone.”

   “Are you trying to insult me, mister?”

   “No, I think you can do that all by yourself.”

   Susanna couldn’t hold back her laughter, “Boy, you’re really not going to make trouble here this early in the day. I can guarantee you that.”

   “I don’t need no smartass tellin’ me shit like that.”

    “I agree,” Susanna faced the boy and looked him directly in the eyes. “You need the sheriff to tell you shit like that. Now get the fuck out of my bar. And… if you try to enter that door again… It won’t be pleasant.”

    Albert returned to the book in front of him and ordered a beer. Sal, Susana’s husband, who had been shadowing the situation, escorted the delinquent off his stool out into the glorious bright, bright, sun-shiny day.