Chapter 8 - Gary

Gary was better defined by what he would have wanted to do or to be. As a child, he always had bigger plans for himself. But every single year, he had to lower his expectations. Very Young, he remembered wanting to be an astronaut, but also an artist and a dog trainer. He was not really the goofy kind of dreamer. He was passionate but serious about his interests. Unfortunately his talent was never as grand as his inspirations. Today, Gary was the owner of a pub. Following the long tradition of places named after wildlife, he named it The Sleepy Wolverine. It had a main room, with tables, a pool, some arcades and the bar, at the back, opening on the small kitchen. The floor and the walls were made of classic wooden boards. It had a deep rural Montana feel. Flags of sport teams from the area hung around, pictures of landscapes and also paintings of locals.

If Gary's hope of a grandiose destiny was not fulfilled, he settled for smaller pleasures. He got into the habit of employing and helping random people. His favourite say was "Everybody deserves a chance". And he upheld that rule in most aspects of his life. He got disappointed a lot and got robbed very often. He lended money that he never got back. But at the end, he was happy for the small victories. He was happy when he saw people gathering in his pub, sipping on a beer, laughing, cheering while watching the TV, sharing food with friends… After a few years, dealing with waiters and cooks not showing up for their shifts, disappearing and then coming back begging to get their position back ; he had found a team that, somehow, worked quite well. Carter, the veteran barman who was not scared of kicking anybody too drunk from his pub ; Meg, the waitress who had a good memory and the gift to put everybody in a good mood ; and Joe, the quiet cook who was way wiser than she appeared. After failing three marriages and never having kids, he almost liked the idea to consider them as family… In a way, that was his big masterpiece.

His pub could easily be called a home for a lot of folks around. His staff was often eating and hanging around the place outside of their shifts and they sometimes dropped by when they were off. The fact that Gary had very few rules was definitely helping people to feel welcomed. His main rule was: be a decent person. And that was it. The only downside to having a big heart was the ever growing tabs that people kept at the Sleepy Wolverine. Gary often told himself that these people were probably not going anywhere.

That day, a warm summer rain broke as the sky was infused with orange and pink trails. As the raindrops were tumbling on the mud, smells of dry grass, dust and moss started to rise. That faint rain did not seem to cool anything down. It seemed to add to the warmth carried by the air, the Earth radiating heat. Gary grabbed a couple of empty glasses left on tables outside, under the wooden roof, and brought them inside. The scent of alcohol and fried food engulfed the place. The warmth was not different from the outside, making it difficult to be completely comfortable. The neat shirt Gary had put on in the morning was now stuck to his chest and arms, showing big stains of sweat.

He was medium in size but had broad shoulders and robust arms. Gary exercised and handled a lot of the deliveries for the bar, but you could see in the definition of his strong jawline that part of it was genetics. He had a dimple on his chin and others on his cheeks whenever he smiled. His jovial face was sometimes hidden by his blond hair, whenever he was busy or concentrating. He would, then, quickly try to fix it behind his ears but it would often fail. Gary had always presented well despite his tendency to be a bit clumsy and untidy. Shirts, well-cut trousers and leathered shoes. He almost seemed like he came from a big and distinguished firm but had been stuck in the city without proper clothes for the heat. People would not notice him by his looks however, you would hear Gary first. He had this very loud voice and laugh. Even while listening to others, he would punctuate silences with "hum", "eh…" and "right" regularly. All alone, the owner would also speak to himself, as he would occasionally forget things and needed to remind himself.

Inside, a couple of folks were already in the bar. Carter was pouring some beer in tall pints while grimacing as some customers were talking to him. Meg was cleaning a couple of tables and reorganising chairs at the same time. At the back, Gary could hear some clings and clongs of plates and cutlery being moved around in the kitchen. The normal melody of a quiet pub.

Gary went into the kitchen to leave the glasses on the rack of the big washing machine. "Everything's okay here?" he asked to the busy Joe. She looked so small in the middle of the big kitchen. The cupboards seemed to tower her and the large hot plates gave the feeling that she was a child playing in a big person's kitchen. She nodded and said "Yep, everything is fine here." without even making eye contact, too busy preparing her station. In the mainroom, Carter was observing the two clients in front of him with serious eyes. The old veteran did not seem to know how to smile. He was scary and spoke with a natural harsh tone, but Gary knew that this was just the way he was. He actually thought he heard him joke a couple of times… But he was not sure if they were actual jokes or just involuntary puns… Gary asked for a beer himself and went to sit near the door, taking out some papers to fill-in. He actually had a desk, upstairs, in his flat. It was a tidy and pretty wooden desk with everything he needed as the owner of a bar. But he found out very quickly that he was more effective when working in a noisy place.

The door opened, letting a damp smell of wet mud in. The rain was now a bit stronger. The newcomer let out a long sigh. Gary raised his eyes quickly, abandoning the accounting documents for a second and saw a familiar face. "Rob', it's been a while! How are you? Are you having a beer? It's on me!" he said, with a big smile, gesturing towards Carter who heard him right away. The man, in his forties but who looked way older, almost seemed surprised to see Gary. He paused for a seconds and tried to smile. His face was drowned into sadness as if the wrinkles that circled his eyes has carved deeper into his skin, until she bone. He looked like he had not sleep in a long time and had just walked out of a cave. His skin was dark and grey. "I… Yeah… Why not…" he looked a bit lost. One could wonder why he had wandered into a bar if it was to look so surprised when offered alcohol. But Rob did not really know why he had entered the bar. He had not been in that place for two years now. His footstep had led him through the wide streets of Wood Burrow, following an old memory of a time where he did not feel so burden with himself. He felt like a contorted doll which strings got mixed-up and whenever you would pull a wooden stick, its movements were jerky and uncertain. His brain seemed to discover all of this for the first time. He had to think carefully in order to walk. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot… A baby taking its first steps… Had it been another life? Another dream? Or nightmare? He did not know. But his body took him in here, probably clinging to any familiar thing at all, for survival…

He stayed there, looking at the chairs and the table, as if he had forgotten how to operate them. Gary stood up and pulled a chair out to invite him. He knew Robert was taking care of his dying wife and imagined that he had just received bad news. The question "How's Lucy?" hovered in his mind, occupying the whole space. But somewhere, in his stomach, something was telling him he probably already knew the answer. Rob sat down heavily as Carter brought a pint of beer. He went back to his bar, not particularly eager to hear all about the disease of someone else's wife. It was ringing way to close to home right now. He started cleaning the counter even though he had just cleaned it few minutes ago. His ears trying to wander off somewhere else.

Gary looked at the beer and then at Rob. "Do you need anything Rob?" he asked, feeling a bit offended at the sight of the paperwork that laid at the table right now. The man just shook his head and started drinking his pint silently.

Soon, the bar started to fill and Rob disappeared early, leaving half of his pint behind and unanswered questions nobody wanted to ask but everybody wanted to hear the answers to. Gary had a sour taste in his mouth. He knew Lucy had been hospitalised at home and that Rob was handling most of the care. He realised how habits can be ingrained in people, maybe for the worst. At the start, he and others were visiting regularly, helping around, bringing food and treats, and then, the visits started to be less and less frequent… Until Rob was just some kind of itch at the back of his mind.

Gary walked from table to table, sharing jokes and funny stories, throwing a couple of insults when people were talking about the difficult weather, the lack of funding and the lack of jobs… It was roughly around 10pm, as Gary was at the bar, getting a whisky, that he felt that deep weight on his chest. The small itch started to turn into millions of little ants scrambling on his stomach. As he travelled through the microcosm that constituted his bar, Gary could only hear the general exhaustion that everybody was feeling. Money, debts, unemployment, the desertion of businesses and inhabitants… Even though jokes and laughs would break above the ambient clatter of glaces and rumble of voices, conversations were going from one issue to the other, highlighting the current mood of the entire county. It seemed like alcohol could not numb the pain for a few hours anymore.

At the end of the night, Gary was tired. Not physically tired but tired in his core. He was seating at the bar, back turned to the rest of the room, sipping on what was left of a whisky… He almost did not see the man seating next to him. He heard a voice ordering a coke with some ice. Rain had left, chased by the still and heavy night. Gary noticed the unusual soft drink and with his tired smile he joked: "The party's done eh?" before observing a bit more his neighbour. He was a stranger. First time he saw him in the area. He had a dark and short beard that covered most of his face. He wore big round glasses and his long hair was tied up high on his head. He was wearing a pair of jeans, leather shoes, a white shirt and a dark blue suit vest. Nothing particularly special… Except for his eyes. They were looking down on his drink, but Gary could see the pale blue colour and the profound sadness that inhabited them. The stranger answered "The party has ended a long time ago for me." his voice, like a dark murmur, sending chills down Gary's spine. He sounded old, but by the look of his face, he could not be older than in his forties. "Oh… Sorry… Sober?" Gary asked. "Yes. Six years now." said the man, turning his head towards the bar owner. His features were sharp but it gave him a gentle look somehow. He had a slight smile now. Apparently, he was not holding the initial misstep the local had done against him. "Congratulation mate. The drink is on me then." Gary said, gesturing to Carter. "Thank you, that is very kind of you." said the stranger, drinking a sip of his glass.

Gary smiled, finally pleased to have heard something positive tonight. He drunk the rest of his whisky and asked: "What are you doing in the area?

- I am preaching.

- Oh preaching eh? Which group are you from? God's lambs?

- No, Eden's Gate.

- I don't know this one… We get a lot of you guys around here to be honest. Said Gary, standing up, going around the bar and picking up a small bottle of fizzy water.

- We are fairly new." He had sipped his coke again. His eyes were now following Gary and although he found his voice quite soothing, his irises were so sharp that he felt a bit vulnerable every time he met them.

"Where do you preach? asked Gary, drinking directly from the bottle.

- We bought a couple of abandoned churches in the area. They were quite cheap. It is sad. People seem to have walked away from God's path… His voice had deepened a bit. Gary was not sure if it was sadness or annoyance. His jawline contracted a little bit. The bar owner nodded.

- Yeah… Well you know, people have a lot of problems. I imagine that they don't have time to go to church. But I remember, when I was a kid, we had a strong community in our church. Singing and stuff. It was great." he felt the eyes of the stranger on him again. Gary never felt particularly self-conscious. He was used to being too much and loud and never really thought about what people would think. But this stranger had a particular aura. He felt almost ashamed in a way. Being a people pleaser, he was often caught up trying to make people like him, but this time was different, he felt under scrutiny. He felt as if it was important to please this man.

His somber voice echoed again, in the bar that seemed empty now. "Maybe they have problems because they do not take the time to go to church…" it was as if the air was slowly being sucked away. Or maybe it was the heat? Gary felt uncomfortable. "Yeah maybe… I don't know mate. You know, times are hard here. With the businesses closing and everything, it's like… Everything is just empty." The stranger had turned towards him, pivoting on his stool. "It is hard everywhere. Look at the state of this country, look at the state of the world. Nothing is the way it is supposed to be." Gary nodded. That, he could not deny. "Yeah you are right… It's a shame, we are good people here. We should all be able to… You know, live, and just… Be happy… But it's like we don't even get a chance to try and have a decent life." the stranger sipped the rest of his glass. "Yes, everybody deserves a chance, but it seems that nobody can offer that just yet." he uttered before standing up and saying. "Have a good evening." Gary had his shoulders low, like burdened by some invisible weight. Maybe the weight of all the conversations he had heard tonight? Or this stranger? "Oh my name is Gary by the way… Good night mate." the stranger had already walked halfway towards the door. He turned around and said "Joseph Seed." very simply before stepping out. Even when the room had been emptied of his presence, the bar owner could still feel like an echo of him.