Looking Out for Carl

by Y. M. Roger

Feeling the first few raindrops, Sadie looked for somewhere to kill some time before the sky fell. Even though she knew it was supposed to be a ‘brief thunderstorm’—aah, yes the prophetic weatherman at his finest – she had too far to go to the next subway entrance to avoid being soaked. She had every intention of not spending Friday wet and alone. Alone was bad enough.

Scanning the stores, she examined her choices. Nope, not spending time in a throw-back vinyl record vault – did they still make machines to play those things anymore? Oh, and she needed another pair of shoes like she needed another hole in her head. After deciding that the candle and incense shop would result in a migraine from the strong scents, she ducked into the little hole-in-the-wall bar on the corner.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the lights and sounds of the big city disappeared, and she gave her eyes a few moments to adjust. As they did so, she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Brushing away the big drops that had managed to hit her before she made it through the door, she eyed the sparse yet warm surroundings of the polished-wood walls and matching floors that enclosed the small area. The smoky smell was old, probably encased in the wood so deep that it couldn’t hope to ever be expelled, but she could almost feel the room breathe in welcome. It was odd, to say the least, but a large part of her was pleased to see that it was exactly as the modest neon sign above the sidewalk had advertised: it was, in fact, simply a ‘BAR’.

Stowing her satchel around her neck and one shoulder and bypassing the few tables, she walked to the end of the bar where another professionally-dressed woman sat. Scanning for other patrons, she noted a young couple off in the front corner opposite the door and a few men sitting along the bar, none of whom seemed to take much notice of her. No matter, she wasn’t really here to make friends, just to pass the storm time.

Sadie cheerfully mounted the barstool to the left of the other woman who was seated against the wall.

“Sky’s about fall out there,” Sadie said, smiling. She noticed the lady’s drink seemed untouched – the glass dripping with condensation, and the cherry floating atop the few remaining bits of ice.

The woman looked at her curiously as if trying to figure something out.

“Are you talking to Donal there?” the lady asked, perplexed, indicating the bartender who was wiping the bar and speaking to one of the patrons near him.

Freezing mid-motion of settling herself on the stool, Sadie chuffed a small laugh. Perhaps this wasn’t the best choice of a seat.

“I’m sorry.” Still smiling, Sadie started to step down. “I wasn’t trying to intru–”

The woman’s entire visage was engulfed in a smile that practically lit the surrounding shadows.

“No! Not at all! Please” – she waved a graceful hand featuring an impressive bridal set to reassure Sadie – “stay. It’s just been so long since someone coul–” she stopped herself, although the smile never left her face. “I’m glad you’re here…” Her eyebrows rose, prompting Sadie for her name.

“Oh, sorry.” Sadie responded happily, offering her hand in greeting as she found a comfortable position. “I’m Sadie. Sadie Hanover.”

Not accepting her hand but not being the least bit rude, the woman smiled and nervously adjusted the gorgeous diamond and porcelain hair accent that adorned her beautiful red hair.

“And I, Sadie Hanover, am Christine Thibodeaux.” Sadie marveled at how 'put together' the woman seemed - not at all what she would expect for a small bar customer. “But you may certainly call me Christie.” She pointed toward Donal who had just turned in their direction. “Let Donal there know what you want.” Although Donal showed no recognition of Christie's actions.

Taking no offense at Christie’s not wanting to shake hands – goodness knew there were lots of germ-conscious folks these days – Sadie smiled at the aging bartender.

“What can I git ye this ev’ning, Miss?” His Irish brogue wasn’t the thickest she’d heard, but it was noticeable. Emerald eyes shone out from a face that had seen its share of sun and worry through the many years mapped thereon.

His eyes glanced at the untouched drink in front of Christie, and a bit of heaviness passed over his visage. But that was replaced with a crooked smile when his gaze met Sadie’s again.

“What do you have on tap?”

Now, there was some amusement playing amidst those wrinkles at her mention of beer. Seems that most folks just took for granted she’d drink some prissy cocktail with fruit twizzlers – god, she hated those things!

“Miller Lite, Fat Tire Amber, and Guinness.”

The entire room resonated with a loud clap of thunder as the sound of rain began pounding outside.

“Well, sounds like I’m here for a bit.” Sadie smiled and glanced over at Christie and back to Donal. “Better make it Guinness.”

Donal grinned even bigger as he began to turn away.

“You want a refresher there?” Sadie asked Christie, indicating the watery drink.

“Naah.” A wistful look of sadness graced Christie’s face, but she quickly recovered. “I’m good, thanks.”

But Donal stopped and turned back toward Sadie, frowning.

“What’s that, Miss?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Sadie waved him off with a warm smile. “I wasn’t speaking to you, Donal.”

Donal got an odd look on his face, and a bit of a frown furrowed his brow. But he shrugged and turned back to his task as Sadie returned her attention to Christie.

“So, do you come here often?”

They both paused at Sadie’s words. Then they both cracked up at the clichéd line not meant at all in the context in which it was usually employed, that is, as a pick-up line at singles bars.

“My husband and I used to come here every Friday night,” Christie began, a slight sigh escaping as she smiled with nostalgia. “Carl was always saying that if you get to know the neighborhood pub, that they would always take care of you in times of trouble. That a pub friend was a friend for life, no questions asked.”

Christie chuckled to herself as Donal placed a napkin and pint of Guinness in front of Sadie. He smiled at Sadie.

“Here ya go, Miss.”

Sadie put up a finger for Christie to pause for moment as she turned her attention to Donal.

“Oh yes” – she pulled her satchel onto her lap and began to rummage through the front pocket for her loose cash she kept there – “here let me just–”

“Tell ye what, Miss.” Donal looked pointedly at the empty chair next to her, and checked his watch with noted intensity. “You kin just pay before ye leave, eh?”

Sadie stopped her searching, and glanced up, that smile just as warm as it had ever been. “Are you sure?”

Donal looked at the empty chair again and then panned over to look at Christie’s warming drink. He then narrowed his eyes just in the slightest at Sadie before relaxing his features and winking at her.

“Ye stay as long as ye like, Miss.” Donalis lopsided grin returned at he looked at his watch once more. He absently rapped a knuckle on the bar and nodded – it was as if he was deciding something for himself.

“Thank you, Donal,” Sadie said, letting her satchel hang beside her again, as the bartender turned away. “He’s a really nice guy,” she continued, turning toward Christie and taking an initial draw of her beer.

Donal stopped and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes, a bit of confusion lurking in them, ping-ponged between Christie’s drink and Sadie before answering a hail from one of the men further down the bar.

Christie chuckled in that warm manner that she wore about her. “He is. This is his place, you know. Donal was always just wonderful to Carl and me when we’d come in together every Friday at the end of the work week.”

“Did something happen to Carl?”

Christie fell silent for a bit before continuing. “Oh, no. Not at all. Carl is still Carl.” Christie laughed, the love in her voice obvious. Then, glancing up at the clock, she grinned with what could only be described as childlike mischief. “Are you married, Sadie?”

Sadie nearly choked on her mouthful of Guinness, and Christie threw her head back with laughter. Sadie joined her mirth, chortling as she attempted to dab her own face and blouse with a napkin.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Christie said, that mischeivnous still playing across her features.

“Good take,” Sadie responded still trying to recover from her mess, “Pretty sure I’m passed marrying age now anyway.”

Christie calmed, the smile never leaving her face.

“Nonsense! In fact” – Christie turned on her stool to face Sadie – “why don’t you let me tell you about Carl.”

Sadie paused to listen for the rain. Oh, yeah, it was still pouring outside. She wasn’t going anywhere.

So, the two talked or, rather, Christie talked and Sadie listened, as Sadie nursed her beer and munched some peanuts. And, although Christie never once reached for her drink, the two laughed and joked all through some of Carl’s escapades with a new lawn mower and his more recent adventures in beer making. Periodically, Donal and the other patrons would look over - their focus always on Sadie
- with confusion and more gracing their features. But Sadie ignored them as, it seemed to Sadie, so did Christie. It was like they were in their own little world.

As Sadie took her last swallow, the bell above the door signaled another customer’s arrival.

Christie looked up about the time Sadie sensed someone nearby. Turning to look over her shoulder, Sadie saw a handsome, older gentleman – soaked and dripping from the rain – looking not so much at her, but at her chair. And then his eyes moved from her chair to Christie’s chair and back again.

“Oh, Cheri,” Christie sounded affectionate, her voice low and subdued, “you must have forgotten your umbrella again.”

Sadie was feeling quite comfortable and friendly from the beer and but a few peanuts. Add to that the fact that it was turning out to be a great Friday evening. So, without much thought, she grabbed a stack of napkins off the bar.

“Here you are.” Without thinking, she started to wipe the water from the man's face and shirt, mimicking her new friend as she worked, “Oh, Cheri, you must have forgotten your umbrella.”

The man’s seductive, chocolate brown eyes snapped up to meet hers – god, he was gorgeous – and he stilled her hand with his own. Sadie felt that touch everywhere.

“What did you just say?” Although his voice was gentle, his eyes narrowed and his grip on her tightened.

Sadie looked at where his hand held her wrist and back into his face.

“I – I, well…”

But Donal interrupted their moment.

“Hey, hey! Look who fin’lly made it in!” He slapped a napkin and a Guinness on the bar at the place beside Sadie's. The other guys down the bar all cheered, raising their glasses in salute. Obviously, the guy was a regular.

At the sound of the cheers, the man seemed to snap out of his little trance, of sorts, and his gaze fell to the back of Christie’s chair again and then up to her untouched drink. Just as his gaze made its way back to Sadie’s face, Donal continued.

“I was just about te refill the lady’s Guinness.” Donal placed a fresh napkin in front of Sadie and took her empty pint glass. “Why don’ye talk fer a bit, mehbe dry off.”

Glancing back at Christie, Sadie saw her friend looking at the handsome man with shimmering eyes and more than a bit of wistfulness mixing with her tremulous smile. Making a mental note to ask her friend about it later, Sadie smiled warmly at the gentleman.

“Sure,” Sadie offered, patting the bar next to her by his beer, “why don’t you join us?”

Donal placed a fresh pint in front of Sadie and grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Christie chuckled, most of her enthusiasm from before having fled, and Sadie shot a side-long glance at her new friend.

“What is it?” Sadie asked under her breath as the man took his time getting onto the stool.

“Introduce yourself, silly,” Christie prompted, although Sadie realized her smile didn’t reach her eyes anymore. But before Sadie could question Christie’s change in demeanor, her friend motioned again. “Go ahead.”

Rolling her eyes but unable to contain the excitement she was suddenly feeling at the man’s presence beside her, Sadie mustered all the courage one beer could offer. With Donal looking on with that same big grin, she somewhat timidly offered her hand to the rain-soaked man.

“Hi, my name’s Sadie. Sadie Hanover.”

The man looked at her hand and hesitated. His eyes strayed to Christie’s glass at the end of the bar and then to Sadie’s newly-filled pint glass near his own. He seemed to struggle at first, but Donal picked up the silence for him.

“Sadie here’s a beer drinker, Carl.” Donal rapped those knuckles on the bar again and nodded, his voice becoming just a tad bit more strident. “It’s been five years, my friend, and I bet Sadie might jest love te try some of yer homebrew.”

Sadie brightened at that revelation. She turned to see if that fact might help bring some of the bright spark back to her new friend, but Christie wasn’t there. In fact, Sadie watched Donal take Christie’s untouched drink from the bar and dump its contents down the sink, depositing the glass into the glassware bin.

Before Sadie had time to ponder Christie’s sudden absence or Donal’s actions, Carl finally stuck his hand out in welcome, a gentle smile making that once handsome face the most magnificent one Sadie had ever seen.

“My name’s Carl. Carl Thibodeaux.”

Sadie could only smile when she heard Christie’s voice whisper in her ear.

“You take good care of him, now, Sadie Hanover.”

Write A Review

Story of the Month contest entry