Juniper Blue (NaNoWriMo2023; manxman)

Chapter 2

The smell of alcohol emanated from the man's pores. As I approached him, I discovered he was breathing heavily as if he was in a deep sleep. Tricia needed a new pair of glasses and/or a new nose because he was clearly alive and very inebriated. "I know this guy," I said. "He's not dead," I said. "He's drunk. Who worked the bar tonight?"

"Corey," she responded.

"That explains it," I said, folding my arms across my chest. Corey talked so much he never paid attention to how much anyone drank. Most of the diners were campers or guests. so we didn't have to worry about anyone driving. Still, I had low tolerance for drunken idiots."He never shuts people off."

"So what should we do?"

"I guess we could call the police or have an ambulance pick him up."

"Oh, come on, Juni. It'll take hours for someone to show up here. I wanna go home. I've been here since eleven this morning and my back and feet are killing me."

"Maybe he's staying at the inn?"

"How would we know? We don't know his name and he doesn't look like he has any keys on him." Damn. I wished I remembered his name. "Are there any rooms available?"

"I don't know. Everyone's gone home." Tricia and I were the last employees left on the premises.

"Maybe he's staying on the campground."

"So we're just going to drop him off at a random tent or RV? We can't do that."

"Then I don't know what to do. Figure it out, Juni. I'm going home. Will I see you at the Harvest Fair next month?"

I was always the one to 'figure things out.' "Yeah," I sighed, staring at the handsome drunk man. Earlier, I didn't envision him as a drunken idiot. I bet he had a story to tell. Everyone had a story.

"Thanks, Juni. You're a good man. See ya next month."

"Yeah," was all I said, thinking about what to do with this man. He changed positions, curling up on the floor. "Wake up. I can't stay here all night." I kicked his leg, but he didn't respond, merely grunting. "You can't stay here, either. The place is closed. I know what I'll do..." At the sink, I turned on the water and flung cold water at him. His green eyes blinked open. "Hey, there," I said.

He wiped the water off his face, staggering to his feet. "I... I... I gotta go home."

"Wait a second," I said, clutching his arm, steadying him. "Where do you live?"

"Um... uh..." He pulled away from me, wavering back and forth on his feet, scratching the back of his head. "I moved... um... I'm...uh... I... live in... in Bangor, I think. Yeah, I live in Bangor. Two months... Bangor."

Despite his slurred speech, I could tell he wasn't from Maine. His accent was more Bostonian. Bangor was in the same county as Millinocket, our current location, but an hour and a half away. I actually considered driving him home at this time of night. "Where in Bangor?"

"I... I don't know... Hmm... where are my damn keys?" He reached inside the pocket of his swim trunks and removed a pair of keys. "Ah-ha! Found 'em."

"You can't drive like this," I said. "You'll kill yourself or someone else."

"I'll be fine." He hiccupped, bumping into the sink as he headed unsteadily to the door. I snagged his car keys from him and shoved them in my front jeans pocket.

"Hey, I need those," he said.

"I'm just holding onto them for now. Don't worry. I'll give them back when you're sober."

He tripped over his feet and would have fallen to the floor if I hadn't caught him. I draped his arm over my shoulder and led him out of the bathroom. He didn't put up much of a fight. "I usually don't drink, you know. I don't know what happened." His speech was slurred and indiscernible at times. "Wow, beautiful, you're tall. How tall are you?"