Hello, dear readers, and welcome to Chapter Two. Thank you to those who read the previous chapter, and to those of you who reviewed. Enjoy this (early) update (because, honestly, in times like these, what else am I going to do but write?)
Chapter Two
"I need an easy friend,
I do, with an ear to lend."
'About a Girl', Nirvana
Morning was creeping over the Manhattan skyline, and Katie shielded her tired eyes against the intrusive sunbeams. She didn't even bother covering a wide yawn as she made her way through the somewhat quiet streets of Hell's Kitchen. She had never been so tired in her life, and she longed only for her bed and the forgetfulness that came with sleep.
She had been a faithful employee at Crobar for nine months now, and she never had to call the police before. Sure, she dealt with boorish patrons and occasionally needed to call a bouncer for backup. Not to mention, she was known to dole out the rare slap if anyone got a little too friendly with her five-foot-three-maybe-five-five-in-heels self. She had taken all of that into stride as part of being a barmaid in a big city.
But, she had never heard such a ruckus in the alleyway before. Usually, it was where patrons and headliners smoked after a gig, not where people shot at each other.
The gunshot was what made Katie recoil from the back door and dive behind the bar for the phone. She was glad it was after closing and no one was around to hear her stammer to the operator about a possible gunfight. She had stayed hidden under the counter, kept company only by bottles of Budweiser and Coors, until the police arrived.
What terrified her the most, though, wasn't the firing of a gun, but an unmistakable, inexplicable roar that followed the shot. Katie had been on the phone when she heard it, and she had almost swallowed her tongue. Was she to tell the operator that someone might've released a lion from Central Park Zoo, as well?
Katie sighed and trudged up the hill towards her apartment building. It had been a long night, and now she was doubting if she had really heard a roar. Now that all the adrenaline had left her, she was too exhausted to question it. When she finally came upon the green wooden door of her triplex, she almost wept with relief.
Katie's unit was on the top-most floor of the building. It was a tiny three-and-a-half with a living room, a kitchen with an old fridge and stove, and a bedroom that looked out onto the neighbour's window. Each room was silent and still, and Katie imagined for a moment that she had just entered the den of a sleeping dragon.
In the bathroom, she washed off her makeup, knowing she was only going to have to slap on more of it in a few hours. She thought of calling in sick to her manager, Patrick, but as soon as her head hit the pillow, she forgot about playing hooky and gladly succumbed to a dreamless sleep.
Her alarm started blaring after what seemed like five minutes of rest. When Katie leaned over to hit the "OFF" button on her clock, the light of the setting sun bounced off the neighbour's window and spilled out onto her bed, warming her legs. She was so cozy, she would have fallen back asleep, if not for the needy ache in her stomach that eventually pulled her into the kitchen.
Since she worked night shifts, Katie consistently forgot what day it was. To combat this, she had stuck a daily calendar on the rusty door of her fridge. After each shift, she would tear off a sheet and try to memorize the date she was entering and which one she had left behind.
That evening, when she grabbed a plastic bowl of leftover chow mein from the middle shelf, the ritual was no different: She mindlessly shut the door and tore off the old calendar page.
Instead of reading the date, though, Katie almost dropped her food. There was a handwritten note on the page, something she didn't remember doing but must have at some point in the past (after all, the note was scrawled in her own chicken scratch writing). All it said was, "Mom's birthday."
Katie stared at it, swallowing down over the lump that had sprung up in her throat. Now, she remembered. She had written that a few months ago, when she couldn't sleep, hoping it would grant her some peace of mind or some moral high ground by remembering someone who had forgotten her.
Whatever mania she was acting on at the time, she was over it now. Katie clenched her jaw and tossed the bowl of noodles onto the counter. Then, she snatched the paper off the calendar pad and crumpled it up before throwing it with a little too much force into the wastepaper basket by the sink.
Her hunger forgotten, Katie marched to the bathroom to fix her face for her shift. If her neighbours heard her slam the door that evening, they never brought it up to her.
XXX
The ground floor of Crobar was only about a quarter full when Katie arrived. Three bartenders manned the large, U-shaped bar, and the tables were populated by a few patrons in their Saturday night uniforms of band shirts, battle vests, and ripped jeans.
Knowing she had a good half hour before her shift started, Katie hung up her jacket and purse in the coat room and grabbed a beer from the minifridge the staff had appropriated for their own clandestine uses. She stuffed two dollars into the mason jar on top of the fridge and made her way upstairs.
Crobar was a two-storey venue with a full service bar on the main floor and a stage and sound system on the second. Katie slipped up into the top floor and pattered through the empty dance floor. She disappeared behind the stage and climbed the spiral staircase that led up to the roof.
The mild evening air hit Katie as soon as she opened the door. She stepped out onto the cement slabs that lined the top of the building and drew in a deep, calming breath. Her gaze swept the length of the skyline, following the length of the Hudson River, when she almost gasped in surprise.
A hunched, stone gargoyle sat a few feet away from the door, its claws gripping the carved ledge of the balustrade. Katie stared at the statue, feeling very silly for startling and very confused at the same time. She had been up on this roof many times before, and this gargoyle had not been there before
For a brief moment, she wondered if Patrick had installed it to give Crobar a more "gothic" feel. It would make sense, since a third of their patrons belonged to the subculture. But if that was the case, why did he only commission one statue?
Katie approached the crouching monster and leaned on the balustrade, bowing her head to get a good look at him.
A pair of dangerous-looking horns sat atop a large head with a mane of long, flowing hair. His mouth resembled the beak of a bird of prey, and it was wide open in a silent snarl, showing off fearsome stone fangs. A pair of bat-like wings were folded against his back, and his front claws were positioned in front of his chest, as if cradling something near and dear to his heart.
Despite her bad mood, Katie felt herself smiling. Whoever created the gargoyle had been quite the craftsman, even chiselling out the details of the creature's belt buckle and the folds in his loincloth. In fact, Katie realized, this was the first time she had ever seen such a statue up close.
The sun was starting to sink, and the cool shades of twilight were slowly overtaking the city. Katie rested her arms on the ledge and watched the sunset, drawing in another therapeutic breath. She palmed her beer and realized she hadn't brought a bottle opener with her. Sighing, she glanced over at her stone companion.
"I knew I'd forget something," she said aloud. A beat passed before she shook her head and continued, "That's something my gran knew too. She'd always tell me, everyday before school, 'Kathleen Maura Gillane, ye best not be leavin' me house without yer lunch again!'"
Katie laughed at her own imitation of her grandmother's Irish brogue. Although the gargoyle didn't laugh, she imagined her gran was chuckling at the joke. Perhaps she was smiling at Katie at that very moment, from somewhere the young woman couldn't see.
This thought left Katie's heart heavy, and she frowned down at the bottle in her hand. Her eyes started to sting, and she glanced up to the blue-and-purple sky to blink the treacherous tears away.
After a moment, she looked back at the gargoyle and waved her bottle under his nose.
"Now don't you go telling on me," she warned. "I never drink before a shift, but…" She hesitated and glanced down into the alley, which was strung up with yellow tape. "… It's been a rough twelve hours."
The sun had almost completely disappeared from the sky. Katie watched it descend, the wind picking up slightly and ruffling her hair. She pushed her bangs away and turned around so she could look the gargoyle in the "eye". It was still and quiet as ever, but at least it was listening.
Katie held up her beer and hesitated a moment before saying, "Hey… I gotta get to work in a few minutes, and I haven't touched this at all." She flashed him her best barmaid smile and asked, "Would you help a girl out?"
Silence greeted this request. The sun was but a red sliver on the Hudson, fading from view with each passing second.
Katie smiled and said, "Thank you, friend. I'll be gentle, promise."
At that moment, the sun fell from the sky, and Katie popped the bottle inside the gargoyle's mouth, leveraging the top against his fangs until the cap popped off.
As soon as her drink was freed, the statue cracked and shuddered, fissures snaking over the gargoyle at an alarming rate. Katie watched, horrified, as stone chipped away from the structure and fell upon the ledge. Just before she could wonder if she had defaced her workplace's property, the gargoyle rose up on its hind legs.
Poised on the balustrade, the stone burst away from a brick-red body. Leathery wings unfurled and stretched to full length, the monster's jaws parting to show off white, gleaming fangs. A familiar, otherworldly roar issued from its throat, echoing over the rooftops.
"Aaaaarrgghhh-OUCH!"
The triumphant bellow suddenly wound down into a cry of pain. The creature clapped his claws over his beak-like mouth and turned. He glared at Katie with narrowed eyes, which blazed a hot, dangerous white.
"That hurt!"
The bottle slipped from Katie's fingers and shattered at her feet. Neither of them moved, and both were silent until an ear-piercing scream ripped apart the night – It was Katie's.
"S-Stay back!"
She backed away from the flesh-and-blood monster, her eyes wide and fearful. Without taking her gaze off him, she bent and picked up a shard of the shattered bottle and brandished it.
"Whoa, hang on," the gargoyle said, raising his hands. "Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."
Katie barely heard him. She was too frightened to listen, and she didn't trust her own senses.
"Wh-What are you?" she stammered, her eyes roving from his wings, to his eyes, to his tail. She caught her lip between her teeth and bit down hard.
"I'm not a bottle opener, that's for sure," the creature grumbled, rubbing his beak again. He watched her tremble for a moment before stretching a ferocious-looking talon towards her.
"Hey," he started gently, "I – "
Katie leapt back, flailing her glass weaponry in warning. "Don't come near me! I'm serious, I'll… I'll…"
"Save your breath," the gargoyle told her with a sigh, dropping his hand. "I've heard it all before."
He rose up on his hind legs and stretched out his wings, his eyes on the horizon. Katie gaped in stunned silence, her breath lost when the creature glanced over at her. His gaze wasn't hard or threatening, as she had expected, but guarded and a little bit… sad?
"I'm sorry I scared you," the gargoyle muttered.
With that, he leapt off the balustrade and glided away, soaring high into the sky on the mild spring breeze. Katie watched him go, his silhouette skimming the rooftops until he was out of sight. In a matter of seconds, there was only the cool night air, a ruined beer, and Katie's shallow breaths to keep her company.
She still wasn't sure what just happened, but when she glanced down at the dark brown corner of glass in her hand, embarrassment scorched her cheeks. Not only because her weapon of choice was laughably small and fragile, but because she didn't need it. As the adrenaline cleared from her mind, one lucid thought surfaced: If the gargoyle's words were to be believed, she hadn't actually been in danger.
Katie dropped the shard and looked out at the skyline again. Unable to blame this on a tired mind, she could only think of one thing to say to herself.
"What the f –"
The door to the roof burst open, throwing light out onto the roof. Katie whirled around and saw a tall, bald man in a band shirt and denim kutte standing in the doorway: Her manager, Patrick,
"Katie, there you are," he said. "What are you doing here? Your shift started ten minutes ago!"
The girl moved her mouth, but no sound came out. She didn't even know where to begin lying about why there was beer all over her boots and no colour in her face. She didn't want to tell him the truth, and she wasn't sure she wanted to try.
Before she could wilt under Patrick's incredulous gaze, he turned and started down the stairs again. He called over his shoulder, "Hurry up and get on with it – Rachel needs your help with Section Five!"
With all her willpower, Katie pushed the events of the last two minutes deep into her subconscious, willing herself to forget about them for at least the duration of her worknight. She hurried towards the door, but paused when a metallic glimmer on the ground caught her eye.
A small golden ring lay a few feet away from the shattered bottle. Katie could have sworn it wasn't there when she arrived. She picked it up for further inspection, marvelling at the pretty emerald heart, cradled by two golden hands, and the shimmering crown atop the jewel.
Once again, Katie found herself smiling in the face of her rattled nerves. The ring was beautiful, and although it technically wasn't hers, she thought it'd be a shame if she just abandoned it to the elements on the roof.
Katie took the jewelry between her thumb and forefinger and slipped it onto her right ring finger. The crown sat nearest to her knuckle, and the point of the heart faced down towards her nail. It was a perfect fit.
With her new prize, the young woman ran down the stairs and went to help her co-worker with orders. But, as she worked, she was almost certain the delicate golden band around her finger was making her skin tingle, as if it was imbued with some sort of magic. It was an odd feeling, and it only subsided when Katie left Crobar at the end of another long night.
Thanks for reading! More on the way...