The bar, to its credit, was much more spacious than it appeared on the outside. There must have been about fifty or so small, round, wooden tables, each with about four chairs that had been stacked upside down on the table. The place was nicely decorated also, with vintage, neon beer signs and license plates covering the walls.
“Cole!” I called out. “We need to get going man, snow’s getting heavy!”
My voice carried eerily throughout the building but received no response. The wooden floor creaked underfoot as I proceeded through the maze of tables towards the kitchen area. It hauntingly reminded me of only just that morning, when I had gone back to my office.
I had seen flashes throughout the day, of Dixon’s wild eyes. Whenever my mind wandered, I could hear his joyous cries as he plummeted eleven stories to the pavement below. I didn’t want to remember these things any more than I had to and yet, as I walked through the bar it kept replaying over and over in my head.
“Cole, this isn’t funny.” I shook my head, trying to rid it of thoughts of Dixon.
The sound of a glass bottle rolling across the floor filled the dining area then, originating from the bar if my own ears were to be believed. I shined my flashlight over the area, illuminating a dizzying wall of glass bottles stacked neatly into three long rows which spanned the length of a large mirror.
My own flashlight shined back at me through the mirror, which reflected an empty room, a desolate space, save for me. I picked up the pace then and approached the bar, leaning over stools and across the wide, wooden expanse, still slightly sticky to the touch, and peered over to the other side.
There I saw Cole, sitting alone in the corner with a bottle of Don Julio in his hand, tears glistening down his ruddy cheeks. He acknowledged me for a moment before turning away to take another swig.
“Cole? What’s, uh – what’s wrong?”
“If I tell you, you’ll leave me here.” Cole sniffled.
“You don’t know that.”
“I promise you, I do.”
“How? How can you possibly know that?”
“I know because that’s just what people do. I know because… one day when I was about seven, I was playing in the garage after school. My dad had this gorgeously restored sixty-six Chevelle that he used to tell us not to touch… but… I was twelve and he left his keys on a hook right by the door you see. All I wanted to do was get in and pretend like I was driving.”
Cole paused to take another drink as I listened intently.
“So,” He burped. “So… I turned it on. Mom was sleeping one off, so I knew the noise wouldn’t bother her. I don’t even remember what I did or how I did it but all I remember hearing next was this awful, metal-on-metal scraping sound. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just destroyed his gearbox.
“He was so mad when he found out.” Cole laughed. “But what was horrible about it all was that he wasn’t even mad at me, he was mad at my mom. And I mean, don’t get me wrong, they fought like cats and dogs, but, uh, that time was different. It was the first time I heard the word divorce thrown around. I didn’t know what that meant at the time either, but I’d find out in the next few months.”
At this point, Cole’s speech was slurred and he was swaying from side to side when I hopped over the bar to grab the tequila bottle away from him.
“Maybe just lay off the Don Julio for a second.” I said as I coaxed it free from his hands. “It’s really more of a sipping tequila, after all.”
I set the glass bottle on the countertop as I watched Cole with concern. His eyes held a terrible truth, having a look about them that I had the unfortunate distinction of recognizing, like a dying ember.
“How long, Cole?” I asked as I sat on the icy floor across from him.
“Just last night. Restlessness before then, bad dreams, waking up several times. But I thought, y’know, it’s the end of the world, I’m hardly going to sleep like a baby.”
“I know why you didn’t tell me. For the same reason I didn’t tell you about Carla.”
“How long do you think I’ve got?”
“A week, maybe a couple weeks? I don’t know.”
“Not talking about to live. I’m asking about my mind. How long before I completely lose it?”
I considered his question carefully and at great length. Again, my thoughts raced to Dixon. How long had he gone without sleep? It was only eight days ago on the Friday we all went to bar that he seemed fine. By Monday he was well out of it but still functional, maybe he had only lost his sleep the night before. And then of course there was how I saw him today.
On second thought, maybe that information wasn’t the most helpful for Cole in his current state. I had to keep him focused and above all else, strong.
“Hey, you know, they got the best minds in the world working on this.” I said convincingly enough. “And I bet you they’re close to figuring it out and soon everything will go back to norm-”
“They’re not.” He interrupted.
“They could be. And you’ve already made it this far so that gives you a really good chance -”
“They don’t have the answers, Ben!” He shouted. “They didn’t a week ago and they sure as hell don’t have them now.”
“Why can’t you just have a little faith?”
“You think it was faith that brought those people into that church outside? No, I don’t need faith because I know. I know because while you were back in your office this morning, I went back to the Voorhies Monument. And I opened up the body bags, Ben.” His voice wavered as he fought to finish each sentence. “Men, women, even children, all sacrificed to ‘save the herd’. They gave up hope in a cure because there is no cure.”
I shook my head defiantly. Cole’s version of reality – he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “Well… I’ve already lost my entire life, Cole. Maybe you’re sick, maybe you aren’t, but if you are, then I know I must be. Maybe all I can do is get us to Utah. Maybe it’s all I have left.”
The bar had grown darker, noticeably more so than when I first came in. Silver light flooded the doorway, reflecting a tacky, wet snowfall that was climbing up the sides of the wall, it appeared to be nightfall. So, I got up to my feet and stretched my legs,
“We should just stay here for the night, start again fresh tomorrow.” I extended a hand to Cole who was no longer slumping but perched upright and alert. “I’m sure we can find a nice room at one of the lodges where we can both try and get some sleep. What do you say?”
Without saying anything, Cole nodded and grabbed my arm to be pulled up. And together we walked back to the car through the thick layer of snow which had accumulated in just that short amount of time, grabbing the bottle of Don Julio on the way.
Thank you for reading Part XIII of “Wake up, Young Man”. Please do like and share this article if you enjoyed it, it really does make a difference.
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