Chapter 6
six
Hop There To There
Charlie
Ican’t believe I just snuck out of the house.
I had never done this before. I didn’t know what had come over me? Okay, that’s a stupid question. I knew exactly what had come over me.
I’m so screwed. My dad is going to kill me.
And I didn’t even know where I was going.
I mean, I knew where the bars were, roughly, having passed some of them walking to and from the work site and exploring the town when we got here.
But I didn’t know which one they went to.
And what if they went to the one they said was down the hill?
I didn’t know where that one was at all.
After showering, eating dinner with dad in complete silence and impatiently waiting for him to go to his room, I was finally able to sneak out. It was a miracle the creaky steps and floorboards hadn’t given me away.
Leaving the Village, I headed to the closest bar, which was just on the other side of Virginia Avenue on Olympia Road.
There wasn’t a name on the run down shack of a building that looked like the roof was about to cave in.
Hoping they were here and that I wasn’t too late since it’s already a little past 7:00pm, I bravely opened the door and peeked inside.
Wow. It’s practically empty here. As I was about to close the door and head to the next location, the bartender noticed me.
“Well, don’t just stand there with the door open. Come in,” turning around to place the glass he was wiping on the back counter with the others.
Stepping inside to be polite I said, “Sorry, I’m not staying. I was looking for someone. I just don’t know what bar he is at.”
“Jesus, you don’t look old enough to hang around with anyone that visits these places, let alone drink,” after the bartender got a better look at me. I know my cheeks immediately blushed, so I looked down.
As I started to turn away I heard, “Who are you looking for?”
“His name is–”, but I got cut off with the door banging open behind me so hard, the walls rattled. Startled, I turned around, and immediately knew this was the worst idea I have ever had in my life.
“Well, look who we have here.” It’s the most brutal voice. It grated my ear drums. And gave me the urge to run away like a stray cat. I might have stood up to him in the mine, but I had others around me to give me the encouragement I could feed off of.
“Were you looking for Richard?”, the bartender asked with a timid expression.
“Ha! Doubtful. He’s probably looking for that piss-ant, Jim,” he said, pushing past me, heading towards the bar with the other guy who was with him last time.
He was at least five inches shorter than Richard, but just as big boned.
“Two beers, Harry.” Then he looked at me with a menacing grin, “or should we make it three?”
Before I could even think about it, a response flew out of my mouth. “I don’t associate with men that seem to think their dicks are bigger than the beer bottle they are holding,” I calmly stated.
Richard started to launch off the bar stool with a fist up, when a bat hit the bar top and the other guy jumped up in front of Richard.
“I’m leaving. Thank you, Harry,” as I turned and walked out the door.
Once outside, I looked in both directions and took a deep breath, trying to decide if I should just give up and go home when out of the alleyway a shadow appeared, making me suck in a startled breath. When Harry stepped into the light, I exhaled, relieved.
As I walked towards him, he lit a cigarette and said quietly, “Jim usually hangs out at Bigham Tavern over on Bigham Street, two blocks over,” pointing in the direction I needed to go.
“I’m only telling you because I know he’s a good guy unlike the assholes inside.
” I nodded a thanks and turned to head down the street so I could go in the correct direction when he put a hand on my shoulder, “Be careful. Obviously, you are already on Richard’s bad side, even though it’s easy to get on, but still. Watch your back, yeah.”
After searching my gaze, like he’s trying to read my thought process, he took his hand back, turned and went back down the alley blowing smoke as he disappeared to where I assume there was a back door to the bar he snuck out through.
I hesitantly made my way to Bigham Street, constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed, with the slightest of noises making me skittish.
I felt like there were eyes on me.
When I finally turned up the road, I saw what I was looking for, located halfway up on the right-hand side.
The two-story building sat with soft dull lights shining through the big windows.
The bar was constructed out of stained wood that looked like it needed a touch up as it looked like it was starting to grow mold.
However, it did have two beautifully carved wooden doors that both opened outward.
The upstairs looked like it was an attic space with two small windows also looking out onto the street below.
After taking a calming breath and praying this wasn’t a waste of time, I pulled open the door and stepped inside.
The door closed behind me, and I started to look around.
There were way more people here than the first location.
Then I saw him, feeling my heart start to beat lighter, like it sprouted butterfly wings and it’s trying to flutter away.
As I headed in his direction, I noticed David behind him motioning towards me. Jim turned around so fast, his beer toppled over, with an exclamational, “Shit.”
As he was trying to clean up, he didn't notice I had stopped next to him. But David did, and he had a wicked smile. “Hey buddy. Have to say, I would have lost money if I had bet if you were going to show up.”
Jim looked up with wide eyes. “Charlie, what are you doing here, kid? Is your dad with you?” he asked, looking worried and put out by my existence.
My smile immediately fell from my face.
Kid.
Why do people keep calling me that? I haven’t been a ‘kid’ in a long damn time.
“Clearly, this was a mistake,” I said. “The invite must have meant something different in your ears compared to mine,” turning around to get back to the door.
“Hey, wait up, Charlie. He didn’t mean anything by it,” David said, getting up out of his chair to follow me, trying to make peace. So, I stopped and looked at him, “I think Jim is just surprised is all. Not going to lie, you don’t give off the bar fly type.”
“Well, I am my own person. I’m not attached to my dad’s hip, even though I know he wishes I was,” I said with irritation.
I noticed we had attracted some attention from other patrons, so leaving was becoming more of a solid plan by the second.
I’m an idiot.
That’s when I felt a hand wrap around my arm, and the rough voice of Richard who clearly followed me. “I knew you were going to cause a commotion wherever you ended up.”
I ripped my arm out of his hold and before I knew it, I was surrounded by Jim and David. “Well, it didn’t take long for you to acquire bodyguards. How sweet,” the asshole said in a thick sarcastic tone.
“What do you want, Richard?” Jim crossed his arms over his chest, popping his pectorals and flexing his arms.
“Nothing. I just came for a drink with my brother and maybe to make friends with the new guy from work.” Mystery solved on who the other guy was. Which is just perfect. Two offsprings to deal with.
“I have enough friends, thanks though,” I clipped out. “But it looks like there are two seats all the way at the end of the bar that have your name on them.”
“Hey Marty, jog my memory, are Richard and Dan even allowed to be here,” Jim yelled over his shoulder without breaking eye contact.
Somewhere behind us, I heard the bartender reply, “Nope. Not after the last fight Richard started, breaking my mirror and liquor bottles behind my bar.”
“Well, I guess that settles it then. Have a lovely night, boys,” Jim said, as he turned to push me back toward the bar, when David lunged past us and we heard a crack.
Looking back, David was on the ground, holding his head while Dan is holding Richard back, again. Holy Shit, “David!” My mouth was on the floor. What the hell?
“Get the fuck out of my bar, Richard, before I call the cops and this time, I’ll make sure the charges stick!
” Out of the corner of my eye, Marty, a middle aged man with a soft stomach but in a healthy stature, a worn face and premature grey hair that looked like he just went through World War II, was now on our side of the bar and he’s holding, not one, but two baseball bats, and a pistol in his waistband.
Richard was screaming at us like a lunatic, saying unspeakable things in our direction, while a quiet Dan was pushing him out the door.
I’m in too much shock to react. I just stood there as Jim, with the help of another shaggy light blonde-haired guy that I recognized as one of the men we passed in the mine, with the same fit body type as him and similar in age, helped David up to his feet.
There was a bruise already forming on the side of his left cheek and up to his temple.
After plunking David back down on his stool, Jim signaled another round for the two of them. Marty threw three Iron City beers with a red, tan, and green label on the bar. Jim looked at them, then turned to me, then back to Marty with a questioning low brow look.
I answered the unspoken question for all of them. “I’m not old enough to drink.”
“Are you going to cause problems if you drink?” Like asking me the question was going to change the fact he threw a beer on the bar for me anyway.
“No, sir. I won’t, but I also don’t have any money,” I said to him, refusing to look toward Jim and David, not wanting them to foot my bill either.
“It’s fine. After–,” he waved his hand toward the door, "you might need something to wash away the taste of being in their company.”
“Um, thanks,” picking up the beer but not drinking from it yet. It was just nice to hold something.
“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you before,” Marty questioned. “But the more important question I guess I have is,” waving his hand again but this time at Jim and David, “how do you know this lot?”
“I just moved here from West Virginia with my dad and started down at the mine. Jim is training me,” looking at him for the first time since the beers were plopped on the bar.
He still didn’t look thrilled, and David looked like his lights hadn't come back on yet. I took a slug of my beer to distract myself from Jim’s stare and immediately gagged and coughed.
“My god, this shit is awful! Does all beer taste like this?” still sputtering my tongue like it’s trying to air itself out.
“You just drank our city’s history. Welcome to Pittsburgh,” Marty said, with a smirk, like he knew he was setting me up.
I liked him already.