Disclaimer: I do not own the Blues Brothers. Dan Aykroyd does that. Oh god what I wouldn't give to be with him and...woops
This is a huge change from my original stories. I know I haven't been around in a while. I've been finding myself. I'm really not into anime anymore. Blues Brothers and other things are a new passion of mine. I might continue some of my other stories anyways but for right now, its blues brothers. K?
Inspiration: After watching BB2000 (yeah I watched it. Big woop want to fight about it?), Ialways wondered what would of happened if elwood got to meet jake one last time. they really didn't get a proper good bye did they?
Anyways, on with the story!
The Lonely Cafe on Second Avenue
by Usagi Kurari
The man sitting in the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue stared at me from across the room. I could feel the eyes behind those dark shades bearing holes through my own eyes. The man sat in that corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue, immersed in the shadows that were cast. His body was mostly invisible, but I could see the sunglasses.
I could see those eyes.
He leaned forward in his chair, his hands cupped around his coffee and he came into view. He was just as I expected him to look. He looked just awful, likea creature out of some horror movie.It looked like somebody had sucked out all of the fat and all of the life from him in that very instant. He was pallid and frail looking. The vibrant, plump, face I once knew was now shriveled and decrepit. His cheek bones protruded immensely from his face. They seemed to stretch a foot in front of his skin. His once rosy cheeks were now listless and white, and his lips which were once pink and moist were pale and dry. The black fedora that had become his trademark sat upon his head, but he wasn't wearing it. It was just there, a piece of the background. His black blazer hung down off his wilting and skeletal shoulders. His hands were zombie hands. There were bones, and the skin hung loosely off them. It looked like it was about to drip off into his cup of coffee.
And just where I had expected them to be, his dark sunglasses were there, staring at me from across the room.
From the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue.
I knew he was looking at me, and he knew I was looking at him.
Us looking at each other reminded me of a dull wire. There was a connection but there wasn't a spark. There wasn't the same spark there used to be. He wasn't the man I once knew. He was a stranger. A familiar stranger.
A bony finger rose up and it bent towards him, a signal which meant for me to come over and join him at the table.
I turned away sharply, ignoring the familiar stranger in the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue. I came face to face, wellchin to eye, with the small cashier that was working behind the counter. He was small and lean. He looked way to young to be able to work. He looked thirteen to me, but hey, what the hell do I know? I'm a late-forties nobody in a lonely café on Second Avenue.
And there is familiar stranger staring at me.
"Here's your coffee sir," the boy muttered under his breath. He slammed the coffee on the counter. Some of the drink spilled out onto the wooden finish. I believe I saw the glass mug crack slightly near the bottom.
"Uh, How much do I owe ya?" I asked him, reached into my pocket for my wad of cash. Even after all of these years I was just as irresponsible as ever and refused to buy a wallet.
The boy sighed. "$2.15."
I gave him a five and told him to keep the change. I thought I saw a small smile creep up over his face but it died down almost as soon as it had appeared. He took the five-dollar bill, folded it up, and stuffed it into the pocket of his apron. He opened up the car magazine that was lying out on the counter and began to read its contents.
Oh to be young and innocent again.
I took the ceramic, white mug and brought it to my lips. The hot drink burned my tongue and the back of my throat as it slid down.
The pain felt good.
I took my mug and looked around the lonely café on Second Avenue. There was only one other person besides me and the familiar stranger in the café. A homeless, black man sat at the fireplace on the couch, holding his grimy, filthyhands out towards the flames to capture the fire's warmth.
I wonder what would happen if he got too close?
The man in the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue was still signaling to me as I looked around for a place to sit. I chose the closest table to me, and the counter, and sat down so my back was facing him. I sat, hunched over my coffee, praying that he would disappear.I hadn't prayed in twenty years or so, but I hoped thatthe familiar stranger wouldjust go away. The attempt failed.I could still feel his eyes bearing into me. Behind those dark sunglasses. I turned my head a bit and saw that he was still signaling to me.
Should I go sit with the familiar stranger in the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue?
He was bearing harder now. It felt like my back was on fire. It burned, and I wanted to put the flames out. My hands started to tremble as I could feel the fire burning my clothes and onto my skin. It was pain like I had never felt before. There was nothing I could do now. My skin was coming off.
I could feel the fire reaching my muscles…
My bones were up in flames…
I jumped out of my chair, startling the boy at the counter. I muttered an apology as I grabbed my drink and went to the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue and sat down opposite the familiar stranger.
The burning ceased and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I knew something was immediately off when I stepped into his space. The air was unnaturally cold. I could feel the hair standing up on my arms and on the back of my neck.
It was so cold.
At first, I was debating whether or not I should just leave. I stayed seated.
I sat, hunched over my drink, not knowing what to say to the man. I looked up cautiously at him, but shifted my eyes back down to the abyss that was my coffee.
I sawthe zombiehand, and then the top of a bottle of Bailey's. I saw alcoholic liquid spill out into my coffee. I looked up at the man across from me as he screwed the top back on his bottle of Bailey's, a smile was stretched across his face. "Coffee always tastes better this way," he told me simply, as he put his bottle back intoone of the insidepockets of his blazer. I took a sip. It was better. It always was. He always knew.
I carefully lifted my head up to see the man before me. He was still that same familiar stranger, only it was much worse up close. I forced myself to keep my head up, to face him.
The man leaned forward. "Hey Elwood," he said, breaking the ice. "How's it goin'?"
I shrugged my shoulders. It was like I was back in grade school again. I had no idea what to say. It felt like my lips were stapled together with a staple gun.
"I know this is kind of awkward for you," he continued. "Especially because of the circumstances."
"Yeah," I replied.
"Trust me, I'd probably be feeling the same way if I were in your position."
I nodded.
He sighed, and brought his right hand up to his glasses and pulled them off. He placed them carefully on the table. I glanced quickly at the glasses and then at his eyes. The usual brown in his irises were replaced with a dull gray. He looked the way he was…dead. I couldn't look at them. He placed the glasses on the table, then started up again. "Listen Elwood, I'm real sorry for going like I did."
My eyes lowered behind my dark sunglasses.
He continued to speak. "What the hell was I supposed to do Elwood? I died. That's it! Shit happens!"
"But why Jake?"
"Everything happens for a reason. It was simply my time to leave."
I chuckled to myself. "Since when did you, uh, get so philisophical?"
"A funny thing happens to you when you die." He leaned back in his chair, the front legs coming up off the floor. "Well, actually, it's usually just before you die. You get all philosophical and religious and shit," he said as he took the bottle of Bailey's from his pocket and took a drink. I cringed. What did that taste like? "It's like, when you know it's your final moments you want to be closer to God."
"The Penguin would be very pleased," I joked. Jake didn't laugh, he just smiled.
"Yup, I finally redeemed myself."
I looked down at the coffee mug again. The alcohol had lightened the color of the hot drink. I brought the mug to my lips and took another sip. It wasn't scorching hot anymore.
"Elwood?"
I looked up, acknowledging the familiar stranger.
"I saw that last concert with you and the other guys."
Oh crap. He saw that? "Oh. Listen Jake…" I started, putting my drink down.
Jake leaned back again, going further than he had last time. I wanted to grab the legs of the chair and pull them back down again. I didn't want him to hurt himself again. "I have to say," he continued. "They weren't too bad."
"I really don't know what I was thinking with that," I apologized. "I should of just let them be the way they were. Mack had his bartending job, Cab was a police officer for christ's sake! All of the guys had respectable jobs. Everybody was happy with their lives before I came into them. I always screw things up."
"What're ya talking about?"
My eyes were getting hot and heavy. "I always seem to do things wrong. I mean, I got ya put back in Joliet. That was all me Jake. It's my fault that you died." The first tears streamed down my face.
"So?"
I was so glad that I was wearing my shades. Jake could probably see the tears running down my face as he spoke to me though.
"Listen Elwood," he said, leaning forward again, his face inches away from mine. The air around him was already bone-chilling but the temperature seemed to drop 20 degrees as he leaned in closer.
With every exhale, smoke poured out of my mouth.
My head lowered back down to my drink. I didn't want to look at him.
"You can't blame yourself for what happened. Going to prison was not part of the reason. You really got to stop blaming yourself. It was me. It was all my fault."
I felt a tear run down my face. I didn't bother to wipe it off.
"Hey," Jake said softly. Softer than he normally would of if he was still alive. I looked up and saw him holding out a napkin to me. With a shaking hand, I took the napkin and wiped my eyes underneath my sunglasses.
"Thanks," I said as I put the napkin in my pocket.
We sat in silence for a bit. Jake knew me well enough not to bother me when I was feeling depressed.
I heard his chair slide back and his feet make contact with the floor. "Well," he started. "I guess I'm off."
"To where?" I asked.
"Wherever it is dead people go," he answered as he stood up. He placed his Ray-Ban sunglasses back on his face for a brief moment and then placed them back on the table again. "You can have these." I was a bit in awe of his act.
"Hold up Jake," I said, finally having the courage to look up at him. "I…uh…"
Jake smiled as he walked around the table to my side. He placed a bony hand on my shoulder. Chills ran up and down my spine. My head immediately went back down to avoid his gaze. I couldn't look up again. He was too close. Right then he pulled me close to him and into an embrace. For that brief moment, he wasn't an apparition anymore. He was the Jake I once knew. He wasn't cold, he was warm and comforting. He was full of fat like he once was.His skin wasn't sagging and his clothes fit him once again.
He was my brother again for that one split second.
My arms came out and I embraced him back. I started to sob uncontrollably. Jake rubbed my back in a comforting manner. It was so unlike him, but I loved it. He pulled out of the embrace and he was the familiar stranger again.
In the corner of the lonely café on Second Avenue.
"Goodbye Elwood. See you soon!"
"Wait Jake," and as I lifted my head, I was faced with a blinding white light. After a second, it had disappated and I was face to face with air.
Jake was gone.
What the hell does that mean? See you soon?
"Shit," I cursed. The homeless guy at the fireplace was staring at me with a frightened expression on his face.
"Uh, hey," I said, raising my hand in greeting. "How's it goin'?" I was trying to be friendly, but the man just stood up and slowly backed out of the café. As soon as he was all the way out of the cafe he ran down the street.
To god knows where.
From that lonely café on Second Avenue.
I turned back to my coffee. What could have scared him off like that?
I looked over at the kid behind the counter. He was too engrossed in his magazine to notice me. I stood up, not wanting my coffee anymore. I left the cup on the counter in front of the kid. He didn't look up from his magazine as he took the cup and put it in a tray that was stashed underneath the counter.
A million thoughts were running through my head all at once. Was Jake just here? Did all of that just happen? A part of me was still doubting the existence of apparitions and the believability of what just occurred. I was jus about to walk out the front door when I spotted a pair of Ray-Bans sunglasses lying on the table. I walked over to the table, placed the sunglasses in my pocket, and walked out into the night time air.