Keys of Life

Chapter Twenty-Three: Smithy

Chapter Twenty-Three: Smithy

   I cursed under my breath as a splitting bang reverberated through my skull. With my vision blurring, I struggled to think about anything other than the pain in my head, ignoring the way that I was dangerously swaying on my feet.

   After a few minutes, the world righted itself again.

   "Damn counter!" I mumbled, eyeing the stained wooden board with mistrust. If I'd done that once, I'd done it a thousand times. If I needed something, I should really think before I ducked my head. The amount of glasses that ended up broken as a result of my sudden tense, crushing, grip was fast sending the bar to bankruptcy.

   I heard the bell chime a melancholy tone. When I'd opened this place, I'd wanted it to be a centre for roaring laughter and football fans, a homely pub where everyone would chill out and relax. Gradually, my dream was becoming a reality, but without the money to change the decor, there were times I wondered if I would ever be able to liken the bar to its fine Irish predecessors.

     Jason said he'd help me with that. Bit by bit, two lads together with a bucket of paint and a barrel of beer, somehow creating something that all men would like. That was how it was supposed to work out.

   Looking up, I expected to see Faye, but instead got an eyeful of unshaven cheeks and a greasy mop of hair.

   "Tim, how are you? Your usual?" I asked. A regular here, Tim was always in for a quick lunchtime beer which generally turned into a double vodka and a shot of whiskey.

   "Sure, Smithy. Sounds good. It's gotta be quick, though, don' want the missus to suspect anythin'," he said with a knowing smirk and a slight slur. I'm sure the 'missus' had long since given up 'suspecting' and learned to put on a  brave face and a good act. Still, without men like Tim, the pub would have long since run dry and packed up.

   With another doleful peal, the door opened and a rather hassled looking Faye burst into the room. I nodded for her to take a seat while getting the promised beer for the equally doleful man - or perhaps 'sponge' - in front of me.

   I made my way over to her, offering a friendly smile while looking over her face. She seemed tired, and I knew that I would need to give her another pep talk before she left. I honestly should have become an agony aunt, or rather, agony uncle.

   "How's life, Faye?" I questioned, allowing a little of my concern to seep into my voice, blessing its cadence with worry. She raised an eyebrow sceptically.

   "Not too bad. You?"

   "Fine. I still have all my limbs and I managed to only throw three people out since I last saw you. How long was that?"  She smiled, but when she spoke her tone was weary.

   "A lifetime," she replied simply.

   "I pretty sure it was closer to three weeks," I said dryly. "But it's the lifetime of an ant if it makes you feel any better." I studied her thoughtfully.

   "You're a bit big though."

   She laughed, and for a moment, all traces of tiredness left her face, making her look radiant and eternal, like a fey amongst mortals such as her name suggested.

   Then her eyes lost their mirth and she sank back to the depths the rest of us inhabited.

   We chatted for a bit, trivial things like how cold the winter was going to get and whether or not there would be snow. I hoped there wouldn't be, but she said that at least I could sell warm mulled wine in time for Christmas.