I went home after that, showered, slept, dressed and headed back to work later that day. I smiled at Frankie as I came through the door and hit the jukebox in just the right place so it started playing without any money.
"You know something would be terribly wrong with the world if I didn't hear that song once a day," Frankie said, smiling as the sound of Garth Brooks' "Friends In Low Places." I had been playing that song on the jukebox since the day I started work there. It was by accident of course, I put money in for something else and when it wouldn't work, I hit it.
"Something would be terribly wrong with the world, Frankie boy, if we didn't have friends in low places," I answered. I tossed my backpack under the bar.
"So how did it go with Jack Daniels?" Frankie asked.
"Fine. He left at about eight o'clock this morning." I said, turning on the open sign in the window.
"Did he give you a name?"
"Nope. Said Jack Daniels worked just fine for him." I shrugged and poured myself a cup of coffee.
"Don't shrug at me, Joey. I know what's going on in your head. You like him," Frankie pointed out.
"Oh yeah, Frankie. I fall for all the drunks with broken hearts who won't tell me their names," I said, sarcastically.
"But he's a broken heart, and for you that's something you just can't bear. You like him and you want to help him."
"Frankie, I want to help everybody," I answered as the first customer came in. "Hey, Sam," I greeted one of the regulars. And that was how the evening progressed. Some regulars, some strangers and some simply looking for a bathroom or directions wandered in.
I enjoyed my job, but my real occupation was acting. This was just a temporary job to pay the bills, but it quickly became a second job. It wasn't glamorous and it didn't pay much but I met some great people, and made some good friends. Sure it had it's moments where the dirty dingy bars got their reputations. A drunk who refused to leave or a bar fight that caused damage, but for the most part the Lonely Star was a quiet little bar with good people. It was just after eight o'clock when my stranger walked back into the bar. He looked at me for only a moment before bowing his head and heading straight to the stool that had become his own.
"Your friend is back," Frankie yelled over the music as I picked up an order.
"You saw him first," I shot back, smiling as I walked away. Though I brushed off the reference of the stranger being mine I watched him all night. He drank regularly, never moving, He just drank from the bottle of Jack Daniels he ordered when he came in. When that bottle ran out he ordered another and drank from it. As the customers cleared out at two o'clock I said good-bye to each of them with a smile. When I turned back to the bar I saw Jack Daniels passed out once again, this time slumped against the bar.
"Damn it," I mumbled. "Frankie, give me a hand?"
"Wake him up," Frankie answered, shaking his head.
"Frankie, he's passed out. Just help me get him into the back. When he wakes up I'll get a name, an address, something that will get him home next time he does this," I ordered, pulling Jack Daniels' slumped body up. Frankie helped me get him back in the storeroom and on to the cot. Then after going through the "are you sure you'll be all right" speech I walked him to the door and locked it behind him. I cleaned up going through the nightly ritual before heading back to the storeroom and checking on my stranger.
I watched him in the dim light of the moon at spilled through the window and I let my thoughts drift around him. I wondered still about his name, his history, the people he loved. Why didn't anyone look for him? Why did he spend all his nights alone inside a bar? Where were the people who loved him, who worried about him, who wanted him to come home?
His thrashing and screaming once again interrupted my sleep. I crawled over to him and gently touched his face. I didn't try to wake him this time, just tried to soothe the nightmares that attacked him.
"Please, don't leave me. I love you. Don't go," he cried out.
"Shh," I whispered, running a hand along his face in a gentle touch. "Shh."
"Please, don't leave me here without you," he whispered, his hands suddenly reaching out and grabbing me. He pulled me into his arms and simply held me and that seemed to soothe his dreams. I lay there in his arms for just a few minutes wondering what to do and then I made up my mind. I snuggled closer to this man who's heart hurt so very much and I went back to sleep in his arms. Whoever this man was, he needed me to heal the pain he carried inside his heart.
When I woke up the next time it was to the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
"Are you awake?" his voice asked me.
"Yes," I answered, looking up at him.
"How did you get over here? I mean how did you get from the pile of blankets in the corner to my arms?" he asked, quietly.
"You were having a nightmare, kicking and screaming. When I tried to soothe you so you could sleep you kept begging someone not to leave you. Then you grabbed me and when you had me in your arms your nightmare stopped," I explained.
"I loved her very much. She was my best friend and all the beautiful moments in my life. She made everything perfect for me, for everyone in our lives. The truth is I was in love with her but she was married so she was always there but just out of my reach where I wanted to hold her the most," he said, spilling his secret though I hadn't asked.
"What is her name?" I whispered.
"Was. What was her name," he corrected.
"What happened to her?"
"She died two years ago," he answered. "She was so full of life though. Every moment had this kind of magic, she saw things most people couldn't even imagine."
"Did you tell her you loved her?" I asked.
"Yes, every time I saw her. I never told her I was in love with her though. She was mad about her husband and I could never come between that." It must have suddenly occurred to him what he was doing but he pushed me away and bolted off the bed. "I have to go," he said, heading for the door.
"Wait," I yelled. He spun back and looked me dead in the eye and for the first time I could tell they were the most beautiful shade of blue. They were like the ocean water surrounding a tropical island, you could have gotten lost in them.
"Frankie's not going to let you crash here again. If you come back and pass out again you're on the street. I need a name or an address. Something to get you home, Jack Daniels," I said, watching him. He stood silent for a moment staring at me before shaking his head.
"If I pass out again leave me on the street," and with those words he turned and left the bar.
When I came back into work later that day Frankie asked if I had found out Jack Daniels' real name. I replied honestly saying no, but then I lied saying he had given me an address to send him home to if he passed out again. I held my breath for most of the night waiting for him to come in. I wondered for a while if he would now that he had bared so much to me earlier that day. Some part of me sighed in relief when I saw him come through that door just after eight o'clock though.
"He's back," Frankie pointed out.
"I know," I answered, trying to appear as if I didn't care.
"Did you find out what his story is yet?"
"Broken heart. The woman he loved died," I answered, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he nursed yet another bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Must have just died," Frankie added.
"Two years ago," I answered, moving away to take another order. Just before two o'clock I watched him try and stand before collapsing next to the bar.
"Damn it," Frankie mumbled.
"Leave him be, Frankie. I'll get him into a cab. Don't worry about it. Go home to the girls. Give them my love," I said.
"You sure you can pick him up?"
"Oh c'mon, look at him, he's nothing but skin and bones. He's not heavy. I just make you help because I like to bug you. I can handle him. I'll see you tomorrow," I said, as he headed for the door.
"I meant what I said, Joey. I don't want him sleeping in the back room anymore," Frankie warned. "I promise, Frankie." I waved at him as I locked the door then set about cleaning. Jack Daniels never moved an inch from where he lay against the bar on the floor. At a quarter after three I picked him up and carried him out of bar as I hailed a cab. Giving the driver directions to my place I took my heartbroken stranger home with me.
It didn't take much to get him inside my apartment and lay him on the sofa. I got some blankets and a pillow and made a makeshift bed for him. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, I ran a hand through his hair. How awful was his pain that he didn't even want to tell his name to make sure he got home? How broken was his heart that he no longer cared if he was left in the storeroom of a bar or on the streets outside of it? "Who are you, Jack Daniels?" I whispered. When his nightmare once again woke me I left my bed to go to him. He was crying out once again for the love he had lost but the moment I touched him he quieted and pulled me to him. His nightmare became a dream and I became the woman he had lost. As night turned to day I felt him stirring beneath me. This time I spoke first."Are you awake?" I whispered.
"Yes. Where am I?" he asked.
"My apartment. I couldn't bear to just leave you on the streets and I promised Frankie not to leave you in the storeroom again. So here you are," I answered.
"You brought me home with you?" he asked, his voice stunned.
"Sorry. I don't make enough money to get you a room at the Hilton," I teased.
"You don't even know me. What if I was some crazed axe murderer?"
"Then you would have killed me the first night in the storeroom," I answered.
"You trust too much," he said,
"And you hurt too much," I countered.
"My pain doesn't hurt anyone else. If you got killed I'm sure someone would mourn you."
"A few people at the bar maybe, and my family," I answered.
"No girlfriend, wife, lover?"
"Ah no, I'm gay."
"Oh, sorry. No boyfriend, husband, lover?"
"Not a decent one. Not many gay men come into a bar like the one I work in. I'm also an actor, I meet men there but most of them are arrogant and only want a one night stand. Not my idea of love," I joked.
"Love is for idiots," he replied softly.
"Why do you say that?" "Because in the end you always love the wrong person and then you lose them. I lost her to her husband, then I lost her to death."
"Did you lose her or did you just not get as much of her heart as you wanted? Sometimes the greatest love we ever know is the love we take for granted," I said, holding on to him tighter. I wondered if now that he was awake he'd push me away, but he never moved and just continued to talk.
"I didn't take her for granted. I loved everything about her and I loved the way she loved me," he answered. "But you wanted more."
"I wanted her to love me the way I loved her and I wanted her to be with me forever. Only she gave up. She just died."
"Don't you know the people we love live forever in our love?" "She use to say that," he whispered, his hand unknowingly in my hair.
"What's your name, Jack Daniels?" I asked, quietly.
"Chandler. My name is Chandler," he finally answered.