Victor was correct in his assumption. The jazz playing skeleton was reclined in a rusted café chair in front of the Pub, his feet propped up on the small, round table. A half full mug of beer sat next to his bony feet.
Bonejangles looked up when the young "breather" bounded up to him.
"Woah," he said in his gravelly voice, "Slow down, cat! Where's the fire?"
Victor chose to ignore this question as he had no idea as to what Bonejangles was talking about. "I need your help!" he said to the skeleton.
"Well, grab a seat, daddy-o, and tell me what's on your mind."
Victor did as he was instructed and proceeded to tell Bonejangles about his horrible mistake.
"I don't know what to do!" he concluded.
Bonejangles stared pensively at the Pub's swinging wooden sign above them before saying, "Y'know…Last I checked, ya were doin' everything in your power to get away from her. Why the change o' heart?"
Victor gulped. "I- I've come to care for her," he replied quietly, and a pang of guilt hit him as he thought of Victoria.
The skeleton chuckled huskily. "Well, ya can bet I'm glad to hear that. She's a good gal. A little moody at times, but, hey, I would be too if I'd been killed just before my wedding."
"Speaking of which," Victor interjected, his brows furrowed, "How did you die, Bo-"
"Uh, don't ya think you should apologize to Emily?" Bonejangles suggested hastily. Victor got the impression that he wasn't in the least bit comfortable talking about his death, so he decided to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"But, Bonejangles," he said forlornly, "Every time I say something to her, I'm either lying to her or insulting her. How can I possibly apologize to her without-" he paused to sigh- "messing everything up? She probably hates me now, anyway."
Bonejangles tilted his head casually, his single eye rolling from his left socket to his right.
"Dames are fickle like that," he said matter-of-factly, "Do one thing wrong an' they go crazy on ya." Victor waited as Bonejangles took a sip of his beer, the liquid spilling down his empty ribcage.
"You just gotta go with the flow, daddy-o," Bonejangles continued.
"Go with the flow?"
"Yeah, that's right. Just say whatcha feel, do whatcha feel and ya can't go wrong."
"Great," Victor moaned, "Expressing how I feel. One of many things I can't do right."
"Hey, cat, give yourself a chance!" Bonejangles gave him a light, friendly punch to the shoulder. "Here, lemme help you out. What is it that you do best? Y'know, your forté?"
"Well, I suppose…I suppose I play the piano rather well," Victor said uncertainly.
"There ya go!"
"But how will that-"
Bonejangles shushed him, and put a bony hand to where his ear might have been (if he still had one). "Hm, what's that I hear? Sounds like a…piano. The piano inside, in fact. I wonder who that could be? Why don'tcha go see, Vic?"
Victor sighed, straightened his ascot, and walked shakily into the Pub.
"Good luck playin' those ivories, cat!" Bonejangles called after him and chuckled before finishing his beer in one final swig.
