Slugger
***SHAWN COOPER***
His father was a man on every poster in the town. A politician. Everyone mourned the day after he got elected. Sherman Cooper shot in the head, in a private art gallery. An event for his first mayoral disposition. His older siblings split the fortune and left him with a bookstore.
He tried handling the business. A week in he sold it to some best-selling author of the New York Times. That is what you all call yourselves, you published writers. He always caught a good game with the guys at the bar. They’d grab a beer or two. He would leave before it got too late. His watch didn’t work, he only had it on for the flashy attraction.
The bartender cleaned the glass cups with a napkin on a tray. He had a fine touch on the edges. It was so smooth to watch him to it all day, polishing the surface.
“Hey Johnny, what is the time?” Shawn stretched over the counter.
“It’s just 7:23…” Johnny picked up Shawn’s used glass and put it on a separate tray.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.
“Ah that’s my cue buddy,” Shawn stamped a dollar on the counter. “I guess I best get going soon?” he wore his denim jacket on.
“Got a place you ought to be? Johnny gave a cocky wink. “Or a pretty someone you ought to meet?”
“I can’t do that to Samantha now, can I?” Shawn glanced a raise of his thick brows from Johnny to the ponytailed waitress serving drinks on a table down his right. “Me and her still kicking it you know,” Shawn teased with a smirked back to Johnny.
“Boy if you don’t get my daughter’s name out your mouth,” he folded the napkin into a bind and threw it at Shawn. Shawn caught it on his chest and tossed it back to the man. “I don’t want to see you looking at her like that you bastard,” Johnny chuckled softly.
“Come on now, no disrespect to the delivery boy trying to win her over, but she’s my wife,” Shawn pointed to push the man’s buttons. “As for my eyes, they keep looking, as long as they keep clicking wide open my man.”
“I ought to whoop your ass you know that,” Johnny turned to the shelf to grab a bottle wrapped in foil. “This is one of my specials,” he placed it on the counter.
“I can stick around to have a taste of that fine wine,” Shawn rubbed his palms together. ‘Ah-ah, I see what’s going on… you feel I am special to you, aren’t I?”
“If anything, I feel sorry for your ass. You come here alone, and leave alone,” Johnny peeled the foil off the bottle. “You don’t make friends with the guys, just watch the game and keep to yourself. And the ladies… the ladies fancy a mulatto like yourself, but you don’t look at them much. Just here talking to me all day while I work.”
“I just kind of use this to cope with it, by uh…” Shawn itched his forehead and dragged the palm down his face. “You know… I don’t know man. Ever since he passed it’s been weird for me man. My two brothers screwed me over, and my mum never picked up since they divorced.”
“Well you can handle your business,” Johnny sighed. “Right?”
“Sure man,” Shawn rose to his feet. “Let me just have a sip and I’ll be on my way.”
“You are the man Shawn.” Johnny took a clean glass from the tray in front of him and poured him a wine half full. He slid the glass to Shawn’s side of the counter.
Shawn took it off the table quickly and gulped it down his throat. “Easy there slugger,” Johnny cautioned.
He slowly returned the glass to the counter and turned to see if Samantha was still around. She just went out back. He slid the glass back to Johnny and went down right to the back door after her.
“See you later then.”
***
In the sketchy alley behind the bar. The gravel was moist and had mold in the corners next to the dumpsters. He walked slowly leaving a distance between him and Samantha. She was not in her uniform. She had long blue sleeves and a short black blouse, skirting her knees.
She met a tall brood man. The lad had a leather jacket with greasy hair that rescinded just above his shoulders. His eyes were green and moody. He embraced Samantha and they had a long kiss. It was hard for Shawn to watch. He knew perfectly well it was consensual, but he wasn’t just having it tonight.
“Hey Tommy Hilfiger,” Shawn grabbed a plank. A few inches shorter than his arm. He hung it above his shoulders and walked ambly to separate the two lovebirds.
Samantha disengaged from the young man, “Gimme a minute I’ll take care of him.”
The young man held her back close, “Let me have a chat with him.”
Samantha palmed her face, “No he’s going to see it as a threat.” Her arms Akimbo, “You know what? Knock yourself out.” She leaned against the wall leading to the street and watched him strut to meet Shawn.
“I see… you have some words for me boy,” Shawn held the plank to his side.
“How you doing buddy?” the young jammed his hands into his pockets.
“Let’s say I’m in the mood to beat the crap out of a hotshot putting paws on that gal,” Shawn pointed the plank to Samantha.
“We don’t have all day Xander,” She shrugged and looked to the other way to the street.
“I like your jacket,” Xander plucked a thread from Shawn’s shoulder and raised it to his face.
“Real men wear denim,” Shawn smacked his hand away from his face. “Only posers wear leather.”
Smoothing down his jacket, “Well I don’t want to get blood over yours now, do I?” Xander smiled.
“You want to go at me?” Shawn nudged the plank forward, jabbing Xander in the chest.
“I like your spirit,” Xander pushed down the plank. “It’s admirable.”
Shawn swatted the plank at Xander. The latter was quick to the attack, inching back to receive a wave of air at his face. Shawn was angry he missed. He dropped the plank and came at Xander with a fist, aiming for his chin. Xander caught him by the wrist. Shawn was appalled.
Xander bit into his wrist. Samantha appeared behind Xander. She hit him in the head with the plank. It broke through his thick head.
“What are you doing?” she screamed stepping back slowly.
She knew Shawn longer than she knew Xander. Heck, she had just met him last night when he came to deliver a pack of red-label wine. Shawn was in pain. In that intense unpleasantness, he realized Xander was the delivery boy coming by to see Samantha. And not coincidentally, they always bumped into each other when he left the bar.
“Samantha relax,” he dragged her close. She struggled with it. He turned her back to him and struck a slanted palm hit to her nape. She fell unconscious to the ground. He let go of Shawn.
“You bastard,” Shawn groaned holding his wrist, kneeling on the ground.
“Aren’t we all bastards? At least you and me,” Xander crouched to his side. “I could tell you.”
“What do you mean?” Shawn crawled back.
“Well, your father was not really your father. He had only two sons, you were just some kid left in his care. Didn’t it occur to you that from the color of your skin, you were different? Your brothers weren’t mixed. Everyone was plain white except you.” Xander gave him a paper. It was a certification of birth. “You were taken away from your true home. With us.”
“I don’t fucking know you, man,” Shawn kicked away at Xander. “Somebody help-
Xander kicked him across the face, “Sorry we have to do this the hard way.”
***IN THE LIGHT OF A NEW DAY***
He had awoken from the illusion that friend was like a living dream. The characters in his mind never existed. There was no betrayal from his brother because he had no brothers. His father didn’t die, because he never lived. There was no likeness for Samantha or her bartender father, Johnny. It was all a sick game played by a witch. Xander managed to get into Shawn’s head and snap him out of it, even if it meant lying again to fit into his story.
His skin felt rough on the rug. His head was hot and felt like it was burning. He looked up and saw fire over his head. Immediately he drew back from the fireplace.
“We had to keep you a few inches from the fireplace,” Xander sat on a couch and placed a cushion on his legs. “You were out cold. Really cold.”
“I had suggested we just tossed you in the fire,” Faye said lying on a sofa. She sat uptight and tied her hair in a bun, “We were here all night awaiting your freaking revival.”
“Hell, I thought I was a human for a second,” Shawn palmed his neck.
“You lived here with me your whole life man, there was no way I’d let you get trapped forever in that mindscape.” Xander furrowed his brows.
“The witch is dead by the way,” Faye pointed to the fireplace.
“You did it?” Shawn’s eyes widened.
“If you look closely, that’s her head burning in the fireplace,” Faye stretched to her feet. She tied her blanket around her waist to cover her shorts, “I think the cold is getting to me.” She dragged her feet and walked to the stairs, “Come join me in my quarters Xander.”
“Welcome back First Delta,” Xander prodded and rose to his feet.