Ooh, *so creative* of a title haha.
Anyway, this is where things start to pick up.
I had to change the title from just The Saloon because I did some research before starting writing this chapter so my plans have slightly changed haha.
Hopefully it's still interesting nonetheless.
Enjoy! :)
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Maybe it was because they were all hungry that the food at Lombardi's tasted so good. Or maybe it was because they were all laughing and smiling together as they talked about everything and nothing, having fun together. They all missed stuff like this. No matter what tangible/intangible elements were involved, they are all satisfied after their meal.
Now they just need to find the saloon that Al Capone was talking about, and maybe they will find Big Jack O'Brien, and then finally find Kid Griffo.
And so they resume their search.
They look for the saloon Race said Al Capone told him about. But up and down this street, there's no saloon anywhere.
"Could he have been lying?" Jack asks Race.
Race shakes his head. "He believed what he was saying. He didn't have the expression of someone telling a lie, of leading someone in the wrong direction."
Spot thinks for a moment. "What exactly do you mean by an expression of leading someone in the wrong direction?"
Race shrugs. He tries to find words to describe it. "There's just a certain feel to it. Like it's supposed to sound authentic, to make the other person believe it's authentic. I don't really know what else there is to it. It has the same appearance as someone telling the truth, except it's based on lies. I just ... have figured out how to read people, I guess. And I could tell that Al Capone believed in what he was saying. Even if it's not true, he believed there was a saloon here."
"And how can you tell that?" David asks curiously.
"There's an earnestness to it," Race answers. "Like he's willing to help, trying to matter. Saying his truth, to spread knowledge to others. This was authentic trying to help point us in the right direction."
"That's very cool, Race," Mush murmurs. "That you can tell that much about a person."
"Even if he does believe it's true," Jack says, "that doesn't help us if there's no saloon here."
"Yeah, I know," Race responds. Then he stops. "The Dump."
Except it was so quiet no one else heard what he said. They all stop walking. "What?"
Race smacks his forehead. "Of course!"
No one knows what's happening. "What?"
"The Dump used to be a saloon here," Race explains, "but it closed down four years ago. He was telling the truth, there was a saloon here-"
"-But now it's something else," Jack completes the thought.
"Exactly."
"That's brilliant, Race!"
A smile tugs at the corner Race's lips. "I know."
"So, do you know where this former saloon is?" David asks.
Race shrugs. "No idea. Chuck Connors was there; so I stayed out of it."
"Wait." Jack's mind is reeling. He's heard that somewhere. "Who?"
"Chuck Connors?"
"Yeah." Jack fumbles around for the letter in his pocket and opens it frantically when he finally retrieves it.
"Jack, what are you doing?" Race asks, lost.
"Aha!" Jack points at the paper. "He mentioned Chuck Connors."
"He worked with Chuck Connors in Chinatown," Mush puts in. "I'm honestly glad he left Chuck Connors behind."
"But it all comes together, doesn't it?" Jack points out thoughtfully. "It's the crowd he used to hang out with. This is where we find his friend to find his other friend. I mean, it all checks out."
And so it does.
"Well, there's only one way to find out which place used to be The Dump," Spot comments decidedly.
"Oh yeah? How's that?"
He starts walking. "By asking each place if they used to be a saloon up until a few years ago, that is."
It sounds like it's easier said than done, but they still follow him anyway.
None of the people working in any of these buildings seem very pleased when they ask if the place used to be a saloon that was a dive bar. Understandable. But it's making the search harder, and they're running out of places that they haven't checked yet.
They're about to leave the counter of this small business, but an employee who had been working in the back of the room approaches them and asks, "What's this about The Dump?"
They turn around to face the man.
"Call me Jack," the guy introduces himself.
"Big Jack O'Brien?" Race asks tentatively.
Jack O'Brien's eyes widen with surprise, and then he nods, keeping his cool. "Follow me. I feel we have a lot to talk about."
He leads them to a room in the back.
"So this used to be The Dump?" David asks, trying to strike up any conversation in the awkward silence.
Jack O'Brien nods. "I used to work here when it was The Dump too. But then it closed, and I couldn't bring myself to leave this place."
"And you knew Chuck Connors?" Spot asks tentatively.
"He's not someone you want to mess with," Jack O'Brien responds sharply.
"We know," Mush cuts in quickly. "It's just that we know our friend Kid Blink got tangled up with him."
Jack O'Brien lets out a short dry laugh. "Oh, Kid Blink. Now I get why you all are here."
"You were friends with him?" Jack tries to ask as casually as he can, trying not to sound too excited.
"Yeah, back in the day," Jack O'Brien answers. "He was a good man. Well. Questionable at times, but a darn good friend. If only new trouble didn't fall on him right after he untangled himself from Chuck Connors."
"Because you went to jail," Race murmurs, trying to keep tact in his tone. "You, Kid Blink, and-"
"-a couple other of our friends."
"Including Kid Griffo."
Jack O'Brien stiffens. "You want to know about Kid Griffo."
Race nods tentatively.
Jack O'Brien looks at all of them, distrust lingering in his eyes.
"I know we just barged in here and we're asking a lot," Jack tells him, "But it didn't just all come from no where." He takes in a deep breath, and then hands over Kid Blink's letter, letting Jack O'Brien scan it. "You see, he wanted us to find him. So ... if there's anything you can do, or if there's anything you know..."
"I may have gone to jail that night with the rest of them," Jack O'Brien says quietly, "But I wasn't there when any of it happened. I can't tell you what went down that night."
"Do you know where Kid Griffo is?" Jack asks hopefully.
Jack O'Brien sighs. "It's almost like he's dropped off the face of the Earth. I know he's around somewhere, but me and the rest of our friends haven't seen him in a good long while."
Jack feels his hopes sink a little. It's okay, he tells himself. You've had dead ends before, you're just going to have to deal with a few more.
"But I do know someone who was more involved," Jack O'Brien continues. "Chick Tucker. Works at the bakery down the block. Tell him Big Jack O'Brien sent you all for a favor."
Jack's hopes rise again. "Alright. Sounds good."
"Thank you for everything," Mush tells Jack O'Brien empathetically. "Kid Blink ... he meant a lot to us."
Jack O'Brien smiles, with a hint of sadness. "You must be his lover that he would never stop talking about."
Mush smiles a little and looks away. "I-ye-yeah."
"Well, it's nice to meet you at last."
Mush smiles at him now. "As for you."
"Again, thanks for everything," David tells Jack O'Brien.
And so they're led out of the former saloon, and pointed in the direction that should put them on the literal and figurative path towards their end goal.
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Ooooooh.
Okay, things haven't exactly picked up, yet, but the next chapter is gonna have some stuff.
The reason why I had the whole it used to be a saloon but isn't anymore because I had a panic moment of if saloons existed in the 1910s and the best I could find was that the most popular one in New York had closed in 1910, so I had to do some work around stuff. I mean, the stuff in the middle boosted my word count haha.
And The Dump was perfect, because Chuck Connors, who Kid Blink associated with, was a frequent person there, so it all comes together, really.
Except I don't know if Chuck Connors was a part of the same crowd as Big Jack O'Brien and Kid Griffo and Chick Tucker.
So who is Chick Tucker?
You are about to find out :)
Please, no homophobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section at all times.
Best,
~Your Beloved Author (who cannot WAIT for all of this to start coming together)