Copyright © 2014 by Dan Absalonson

To my late grandpa Steve, the Bremerton hustler who would kindly school us on the great pool table in his basement. “Pool’s a hard game.” “That’s a lot of green.” He is dearly missed.

After spending an entire day hauling stuff off to the dump, it took us three full truck loads to vacate my late father’s house of junk, it was just me and the bull. For as long as I can remember my dad had a life size bull statue hogging up one corner of his basement. It was never in the way when we shot pool down there, but think of the books he could have stored. At least two fat bookcases could have sat in its place, but books were never really Dad’s thing.

"How am I going to sell this?" I said to no one as I stood alone in Dad's barren house. It looked so different with all the clutter gone and the few things worth anything stacked in piles for the estate sale. My brothers had gone back to their families in neighboring towns. I had never moved more than a short drive away from the old man. I would come over a few times a week after work and shoot pool with him in his basement. I told myself I was doing it for him so he wouldn’t be lonely in that big house with mom gone, but I think it was for me. Mom and I had been real close, and with her gone I felt very alone. I always had gotten along just fine with Dad but he never let me in if you know what I mean. That changed when mom died and he and I became each other’s person.

I’ve had girlfriends, but none of them stuck around for too long. I guess I’m not really a desirable mate. I could never say without a doubt that yes you're the one and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve gotten used to living alone and at my age, I’ve come to accept that ship has sailed. Bon voyage, c'est la vie.

I was driving a rented moving van with the bull wrapped up in the back. I parked in front of my favorite coffee shop, opened the back of the van, snapped a photo of the thing with my phone, closed the door and went inside. Once my order was in hand I sunk into an armchair, letting its soft fabric pull me in. I blew out my breath, lifted the cup to my nose, and inhaled deeply. That helped. The smell of coffee had always worked magic on my mood. I took that first sip, always the best, then placed my coffee on the little table next to me and pulled out my phone.

The fastest way to get rid of this thing would be online. I listed the bull adding the picture of him wrapped up in the van. I thumbed a brief description, returned my phone to my pocket, and sank back into the chair. I picked up my coffee and held the hot mug letting its warmth seep into my bones. I finished the cup one slow sip at a time. I was about to get up to fetch another cup when my phone beeped. I had received an email.

Hi!

I'm very interested in your bull! Can I meet you somewhere today and see it? How much do you want for it?

Thanks!

-Frankie

Hmm. Frankie. That sounded like the name of a guy who would buy a bull statue. I pictured him as a hunter or maybe the owner of a bar or something. I sent a quick response.

Hi Frankie,

I'd be happy to meet you anywhere. It's already in the back of a van I rented so I'd be happy to come to you. I'll even help you unload it. As far as price I have no idea. I think it's worth a few hundred bucks but if you make an offer I'm sure we can work something out.

- George

I got up and ordered another coffee. When the barista handed it to me my phone beeped again. I pulled it out, took a sip, and read my new email.

George,

Sounds great. I'm good with $300 if that works for you, and thank you for coming to me. I'm at Rigby's on 5th and Hansard. It's a bar. The bull is going inside as a decorative piece. I'm excited to see it set up.

Thanks,

Frankie

So he did work at a bar. I knew where it was but had never been inside. I hopped in the van, buckled up, and sent a reply before pulling onto the road.

Frankie,

Sounds great. I know the place. Be there in a few.

- George

I turned the key, heard the large engine start up and headed for the bar. As I drove I thought about Dad and how he would have liked his bull finding its new home in a bar. After nine stop lights and a few turns I was there. I hopped out, locked the van and went inside. The sounds of the street were muted when the door closed behind me. In the bar I heard pool balls clacking together, guys laughing, and darts hitting boards. I looked around and decided to go up to the bar. There was a burly man in dark jeans and a plaid shirt pouring a drink for an elderly guy. I sat down and waited for him to come over to me.

“What’s your poison friend?”

“You must be Frankie,” I said.

The man started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You'll see. I'm Jimmy," he said.

He waved his hands in apology.

"She's in the back. I'll call her out."

She? I thought.

Jimmy walked to the end of the bar and picked up a red phone.

"Yeah hey. There's someone here looking for you. Okay."

He hung up and glanced my way.

"She'll be right out."

"Thank you, I said."

"Sure. You want anything while you wait?"

"No I'm good thanks. Maybe after I'm done helping her move the bull."

"The what?"

"You'll see," I said with a smug grin.

He chuckled as he walked away to refill a glass for a patron.

A moment later a remarkable woman in black jeans and a rich purple sweater came out of the back of the bar. Her eyes were very green. They were hard to look away from. She moved like ocean waves crashing on the beach. She saw I sat with no drink and flashed me a smile. My palms started to sweat.

"Are you the man bringing me the bull?"

"I, uh - yeah. Yeah that's me."

I stood almost falling off the tall stool.

"What did you give this guy Jimmy?"

"Not a thing boss."

He laughed again. It was a good laugh. A contagious laugh that bellowed out in rough bounces like Santa on two packs a day.

She came up to me and stuck out her hand. As I shook it I noticed her other hand was free of any ring.

“I’m Frankie. Pleased to meet you.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you too.”

Her hands were so soft, like smooth velvet.

“So do you want to stop shaking hands and show me that bull?”

I released my grip and felt her fingers slip out of mine. Just then I had a very strong urge to do whatever it took to have her hand in mine again.

“Oh yes of course. It’s just out in my van.”

I pointed back towards the street with my thumb.

“Yeah that’s what you said. So, I’ll follow you.”

I turned and headed for the door, hoping my face wasn’t as read as it felt as I caught a glimpse of Jimmy stifling a laugh behind the bar. I kept walking. One foot in front of the other. The cold air outside was helpful and I regained my composure as I led Frankie down the street to the van. I opened up the back doors.

“Well, here he is.”

She put her hands over her mouth, laughed, and then said, “that’s perfect!”

“Good. I’m glad you like it. It’s really heavy. Should I go get Jimmy to help me get it in for you?”

“Yeah that’d be great. Here let me pay you first.”

She handed me a wad of twenties and I stuffed them in my pocket.

“Aren’t you going to count it?” she asked.

“No that’s okay. I trust you.”

“You don’t know me. Go ahead, count it.”

I'd like to know you, I thought.

“Really it’s fine," I said.

“Please just count it. I counted it like four times but I’m no too good with numbers and I’d feel better if you made sure it was three hundred.”

“Alright, sure. No problem.”

I pulled out the bills and counted them quickly and out loud so she could hear me. All was in order so I pushed them back into my front pocket.

“Okay cool. Thank you. I’ll go get Jimmy.”

“Great,” she said with that smile I could get used to.

I walked back into the bar and asked Jimmy to join me at the van. With his help it was just as easy as with my two brothers on the heavy end. We walked it into the bar with Frankie holding the doors open for us. I was struggling.

“Let’s just set it down for a second so I can get a better grip,” I said.

“Sure thing buddy. Where do you want this boss?”

“I was thinking in that corner behind the pool tables. What do you think?”

“I think that you’re the boss and I’m no interior decorator type.”

“Ah you’re no help. What do you think George?”

“I think that would be a great spot. My old man had it stuffed in the corner of his basement behind his pool table for years, so Theo here would be right at home.”

I patted the bull on the head.

“Is that right? Well it’s settled then. Theo, isn’t that Greek for God or something?”

I laughed.

“Yes but in this case it’s just short for Theodore. My dad always liked President Roosevelt.”

“Gotcha. Well let’s keep his name the same but now it means God! Alright boys the corner it is, and thanks for moving it. That thing looks heavy.”

“It’s not too bad boss. Right George?”

I nodded as a drop of sweat plummeted down my forehead and shot off my nose.

“Oh yeah, not heavy at all,” I said with a smile.

I hoped I could get my end all the way to the corner. I managed it and after we set it down I stepped back to check it out.

“I like it,” Frankie said as she walked up from behind me. Her voice was so lovely. I turned and smiled at her.

“I was just thinking on the way over that my Dad would have liked the idea of Theo finding his new home in a bar. If he saw it now by these pool tables he’d be thrilled.”

“He’s not around anymore then?”

“No he passed away last Thursday.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you. My brothers and I just finished cleaning out his house. Theo here is all that was left of the stuff we didn’t think would sell in the estate sale.”

“I’ll be sure to take good care of him. All the hay and beer a bull could ask for.”

I laughed. Jimmy took his eyes off the bull and looked at us.

“Looks good boss. George, nice to meet you.”

“You too Jimmy. Thanks for helping me move him. It took three of us to load it back at my dad’s house.”

“No problem. Nice buy boss. I like the bull, but don’t start buying more weird stuff to stick around here okay?”

“Alright Jimmy. Now leave the interior decorating up to me and get back to work eh?”

He laughed his baritone laugh and walked back to the bar. Frankie and I stood next to each other staring at the bull. I was about to say thanks and head out the door but she spoke first.

"I lost my father too, just last year. He owned this place.”

She looked over at me.

“Why don't you sit down. Have a drink. It's on the house.”

“Well I…”

“Come on I insist. It sounds like you’ve had a long day too,” she said grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the bar.

“Alright sure. Thank you.”

Her grip felt so nice on my arm. I would have followed her anywhere.

“Yeah it’s no problem. I’m sick of paperwork and I could use some practice behind the bar again. It’s been a week."

“You usually bartend here?”

“Ever since I turned twenty one. I will again soon. I like it much more than getting ready for tax season alone in the back.”

I sat down as she walked around.

“So what’ll it be?”

“How about a rum and coke?” I said.

“No come on that’s too easy. You could make that.”

I laughed.

“Alright then, what do you suggest?”

“Let’s see. How about a mudslide?”

“What is a mudslide?”

“It’s like a chocolate shake but with alcohol, so it’s much better.”

“What kind of alcohol?”

“Some vodka, a little Kahlua, and some Bailey’s. Mix that with some cream, milk, a banana, some ice cubes and of course chocolate, and you’ve got yourself a mudslide.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to say no to that.”

“Sounds good?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright then.”

She got out a blender and dumped in a shot of each of the drinks she’d listed, then two shots of cream, two shots of milk, a banana, and three ice cubes. She turned the blender on and let it run until it looked really smooth. Then she poured it into a glass and sprinkled chocolate shavings on top. It looked amazing. She slid it my way. I took a sip. It tasted even better.

“Yeah that’s not bad!” I said.

“Not bad?”

“Okay, it’s fantastic!”

I said between sips nodding my head.

“That’s more like it, and it was free so it should taste even better right?”

I smiled, sure that my face was red again, hoping that if I drank fast enough it would seem like I was glowing from the alcohol.

“Were you two close?” she said surprising me with her question. Before I could answer she spoke again.

"I was pretty close with daddy. People ask me how I can work here if this place is a constant reminder of him and all. You know what I tell them?"

I finished a long sip.

"What's that?"

"I say yeah, but all the good memories are here. This place helps me remember the good times with Daddy. When he was tall and strong and invincible. Before he shrunk in that hospital bed for months at the end. That’s what I don’t want to remember. This place helps me keep the best memories I have of him front and center."

I looked around the bar. It was nice. It had a real good vibe to it and there were a lot of patrons sitting and enjoying games and drinks.

“That’s cool. This is a real nice place you’ve got here.” I said getting to the bottom of my mudslide.

“Thanks. I love this place. What are you going to do with your dad’s house? Did he leave it to you and your brothers?”

“Yeah. They don’t want it. They both moved to different towns. I stayed here. To answer your question, yes I was very close with my father. I used to come over to his place a few times a week. We’d shoot pool in his basement and have a few drinks. I was thinking about buying it but I wasn’t sure. My brothers keep saying the same things people have asked you about this bar.”

I looked at a big neon sign hanging on the back wall above the alcohol.

“Rigby’s. Was that your dad’s name?”

“It sure was,” she said looking up at the sign and then over my shoulder at the bull. I turned around and looked at it.

“I kind of like what you said though. I don’t know, maybe I will buy the place. I’m sick of living in apartments and I’ve saved up a little to get started paying off my brother’s share of it.”

“Well you can always come back here if you get lonesome for Theo. Have a drink. Shoot some pool.”

I downed the last of the mudslide and was happy for it’s liquid courage. I made my move.

“That sounds great. So are you any good at pool?”

“I grew up here so I’ve always played, but I’m no good. I can make tough shots sometimes, but then I’ll go and miss the next easy one. Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to play a game with you - for a wager.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s the wager?”

“One game. If you win I’ll give you back the money for Theo over there and let you have him for free.”

“And if you win?”

“If I win, you have to let me take you out to dinner somewhere. You don’t have a boyfriend do you?”

She laughed and shook her head. Her lips curled up and the smile that could turn me into a bright red stop sign returned.

“Sometimes I get lucky, and I could use that money to pay Uncle Sam. You’re on.”

We walked over to one of the pool tables and started chalking up our cues. I stopped to show her a trick my dad had taught me.

“You can fit a cube of chalk into Theo’s left nostril and then it’s like he’s chalking your cue for you. Kind of cool right?”

She laughed. It wasn’t that funny. I hoped she was laughing because she liked me. As I racked the balls for her to break from the other side, I let myself dream that just maybe I wouldn’t be alone afterall. Even with Dad gone. Maybe his house could be a place for new memories. New stories. New games of pool with Frankie.

She broke without pocketing any of the balls. I walked around the table surveying my options, and then shot. This was going to be a good night. Things were going to be alright. The blue two ball fell into the corner pocket.

“I’m solids,” I said.

She just smiled.

THE END

Thank you for reading my short story Cue Bull. For more about me check out my website where you can read about my writing journey and find links to many more free stories both in eBook and audio book formats:

http://www.DanDanTheArtMan.com