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Karen B.

A stranger's unearthly insights.

I sat in the corner of a tiny, dark bar all alone. Just didn't want to be part of the world today, so I hid from its daily grind. I hid from the noise and scurry of the human rat race. I sat in my dank, dark corner content to sip on my strawberry daiquiri, that a lean, colorful man built for me. He knew his stuff let me tell you. I watched him slip in and out of the kitchen doors with trays of food. He never even wrote anything down. The man was a virtual computer on legs. Taking orders and bringing back food and drink, never once mistaking one human for another, easy enough to do, especially in this darkened, smoke filled place. I don't normally go to bars but I just thought it would be a change of routine. I like to sit and watch and observe people, not having to talk and carry on lengthy conversations. Just enjoy the company of others unnoticed by them is fun. You see a lot when you keep your mouth shut and just watch. Watch the lovers holding hands. Watch the sorrowful faces of loneliness.

Well, Mr. Bear, as he introduced himself, was busy pouring more alcoholic creations. He had a roughness about him, yet I could see the softness of his heart shining through his espresso colored eyes. Espresso sounds good; maybe I should head over to the coffeehouse and see what's brewing over there. I kept my pad and pen handy. I like to write down the things I see, the feelings that float thinly through the air. The ambiance in here wasn't giving me the feeling of peace I sought so I started to finish my drink, sucking quicker on the straw. I was just about to leave when the front door flew open and I sat back down intrigued by the sight before me. The door hung on open hinges yet no one entered for a brief second in time.

The wind blew in some dry, fall leaves and they swirled around and landed in a pile in the corner where others had been swept earlier. Then the wind blew in something else. The first one bounced in like he was on a pogo stick. I never saw anyone so happy in my life and so full of motion. He flew around the place and came to rest at the bar slapping his hand down and ordering a beer. His laughter filled the dingy room with whimsical delight. I almost thought the barkeep should card the guy. He had the face of a thirty-year-old but his smile was maybe all of ten. His hair swirled in lush, chocolate curls around his cookie sweet face. His muscles rippled like waves when he lifted his beer and took a long, deep swig.

I couldn't hear his words over the music's blare and I can't read lips too well, although I try. I looked at the door he had left wide open guessing the bartender wasn't too happy at that since he gestured a hand in the direction of the entrance. Another gust blew in more leaves and the slick, dark man grabbed a broom and began to sweep up the mess. Guess he likes things clean. As he began to slam the door shut, a large, shapely hand held it open and the room lit up as if the gates of heaven had just opened. A tall, golden-haired god walked in. A ring of light seemed to encircle his whole body; he glowed like an angel as he moved toward the bar.

I was glad to be in this dark corner as my mouth hit the floor--wasn't a pretty sight. I gently stuffed my tongue back in and helped my jaw close. He strutted like a peacock over to the pogo stick guy, who was seen to be shorter than the hunk of gold now standing next to him.

Slick was back and poured a drink for golden boy who sipped on it like he were a nursing child. Slow and small swallows licking his lips after each drop had passed. Hey, I'm not going anywhere. This is getting interesting. I sat in my private little box no one taking notice to me and that's the way I wanted it. I didn't want to meet them nor talk to them or interrupt any natural flow. I was here just to observe, to take notes, or maybe place myself in their shoes.

Taking their drinks the blond and chocolate swirl headed to the pool table. Chocolate Swirl, wow, he moved like I'd never watched a man move before in my whole entirely too short life. It wasn't just a walk he swaggered about. It was like a dance. I watched his hips sway in time with his arms and his head did this cute little tilt back toward his friend, cueing him in on what the game plan was. Both, sticks in hand, began to play pool. I could tell they were very close and the best of friends through and through. The game at first appeared normal and friendly but then their faces took on a more serious note. The two appeared to go at it like a couple of rams butting heads. Apparently this was fun for them. Socking each other in the arm, hard from my viewpoint, as each one sunk their balls in the appropriate pockets. I almost thought for moment they were going to drop those sticks and start taking punches at one another's perfectly chiseled features. Wrong. At the end of the match, pool sticks placed back on the rack, they came to stand toe-to-toe. This is it, I thought, they're going to kill each other. A hand went up and then another. Oh, I can't watch but I peeked from around my glass anyway. Arms slung over each other's shoulders and smiles that lit the night arched across their sculptured faces. Heading back to the bar they strolled arms over shoulders. Both leaned heavy against the bar, each swigging his beer, eyes roaming the noisy place.

The Pits, huh! Wonder what Slick had in mind when he named it that? The pits of life? The pits of hell? Peach pits? I shook my head and concentrated again on Casanova times two before me. My mind wanders some, sorry.

A few more hours went by, with them pounding down beer faster than I could blink and me watching like a parrot trying to learn a new word. Writing down every touch, every movement, and every blink of an eye. Eyes, I love eyes and those two had the best eyes this side of anywhere. Even in this dimly lit pit you could see them both radiate their blueness. One set being lighter than the other. One set was that of a blue, crystal clear mountain stream; the love he felt for Pogo Stick flowing hard and fast to the sea. The other set was that of a blue spruce standing alone in an enchanted forest. He tried to hide his love for the Golden Angel but I could see through him as if he was made of glass. His rough housing and comic routines no match for my x-ray vision. He's been hurt, I can tell. Hurt badly. His love for the blond is tucked away protecting his heart from pain. But the eyes can't hide that love. It emanates from him like the star atop the Christmas tree in Times Square. The two were connected in a way most in this place were not. They shared from the heart all that they were and all that they wanted to be. Even if they didn't know they were doing it.

A mind is a dangerous thing corrupting the beauty and free spiritedness of the heart. It taunts and teases, reasons and rhymes. Trying to dissect and mutilate every bit of information it obtains. These two were free and I could tell they let their hearts do the leading. Not letting the mind take over and ruin the wonder and magic of who they were and how they felt about one another. Even when Chocolate Swirl tried to hold his love in check he couldn't. A touch on his friend's shoulder sent waves through his whole body down to his toes. I could see the slight quaking even from here.

Well, they weren't feeling too much pain by now. It was late and most of the nightlife had left for higher ground. Slick was trying to get those two laugh-a-holics to go home. They just wouldn't stop laughing. They were draped like curtains all over each other in tears of laughter over something. Good thing they didn't leave yet, because a couple of no good, low life leeches decidedly blew in. Almost couldn't tell them from the dried up dead leaves that came in with them.

The laughter ceased as Casanova times two looked at one another. Slick informed the walking dead souls he was closing for the night. They didn't mind him in any way and headed for the pool sticks. More words came from them and one of the leeches of the night walked behind the bar and began to pour himself a cold one. When Slick told the guy again in a most polite tone, that he was shut down for the night, all he got for his efforts was a power punch to the gut that rocked him to his knees.

Here we go, seen it before. Pogo Stick went sailing over the bar bouncing into the leeches knocking them both to the floor along with the cash register. They wrestled back there a few moments before one leech tossed him back over the bar crashing him into a nearby table. Up again the two struggled around the Pits rolling and slamming each other into walls and chairs. Glasses flew to the floor. Shards and ice rained down. Pogo Stick let his elbow fly high to smash into his opponent's face once, twice, and then again in rapid succession till the guy hit his knees and lay face down on the floor. Pogo Stick bounced with cosmic energy upon the back of the leech. Pressing his face to the floor with a knee in his back he cuffed him leaving him to lie in the mixture of glass, ice and blood.

The other low life joined in. He leapt on top of the pool table and whirled his stick in slashing motions toward the blond. It was met with the cracking sound of the blond's stick clashing with his. The Golden Angel's wooden blade cracked in two and he received a few knocks to the head from the low life above. About to take another brutal blow to his glowing blond head, it was interrupted by a crop of chocolate curls that plowed into him shoving him away from the stick that now came down and broke across his backbone.

Pogo Stick stopped bouncing all about for the first time since I'd laid eyes on him. He now lay on the glass, ice and blood mixed floor. The blond skittered across the broken floor and slid right atop that pool table. Lifted that piece of trash up over his head and slammed him down into a pile of already broken chairs. He flew off the green felt and landed on top of the guy cuffing his hands to his legs. Damn, I almost felt sorry for the guy. Not.

Chocolate Swirl was trying to stand but you could almost see the wave of nausea rolling through him. He landed back on the ice and glass covered floor upon one knee with his head bowed down. Chocolate Swirl's eyes rolled back in his head and he started to sway making the rest of the trip down to the floor. He didn't quite make it. Blondie nabbed him by the collar of his jacket suspending him in mid-air till he could get down on the floor and pull him onto his lap. The words that echoed between them I couldn't hear. Damn, wish I could read lips. Their body language was telling me what words could never say. Blondie held his friend in the crook of his arm letting his gentle fingers feather through the lush curls. Stroking his cheek and rocking him cradled in his arms. He swaddled the man as if he were a newborn infant.

Finally Pogo Stick got some of his boing back and began to sit up holding tight to his security blanket. Slick was there now helping the Golden Angel pull the big lug upright. Dusting bits of glass off his friend and holding him close to his side. Arms entwined around each other they headed for home. I, myself, crept out the back door. Words lingered and floated through my mind -- courage and love. The courage shown by both especially Chocolate Swirl in blocking the pain his friend would have felt by taking it into his own body instead. The unbounded love of Golden Angel soothing away the pain and keeping his friend from further harm. These words have a special ring to them in any language.

Hey, I may not be of this world but I know love when I see it. Love is a universal language in case you didn't know it. And also, just so you know, the human body I occupy can't help but have feelings of grandeur when it sees something it likes. Anyway, if more of you earthlings had just a third of the spirit and love those two do, I know you would make it! Good luck over and out.

The End