Disasterpiece

“You look like shit darlin’” Uncle Frank said, sitting down next to me on the green couch in the staff room. I gripped the coffee mug in my hands tighter and kept my gaze firmly glued on the carpeted floor, I knew my eyes were red and puffy and I was still shaking slightly. “Oh come here,” Uncle Frank sighed; pulling the mug from my grasp he placed it on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my head into his bulging chest.

We sat like that for a few minutes, him rocking me back and forth slowly; I could feel calm wash over me, but deep inside I was still in shreds. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he whispered softly, kissing the top of my head. I pulled back slowly and turned to face him, looking up into the eyes that had protected me since I was young and Mother-less. I had basically grown up with two fathers, my real dad and his brother – Uncle Frank; I don’t know or care why my mom decided to leave a toddler behind and start a new life.

“Bastard stole my grave,” I wheezed out, Uncle Frank frowned and handed me the coffee mug; I took a thankful gulp and sniffed.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly in confusion, tucking some loose hair behind my ear. Uncle Frank probably hated the idea of me owning my grave already more than anybody else, he had made it clear he detested the idea; but he wasn’t going to get in the way of something I felt I loved and needed, well, except that once.

“I don’t know, they sold my grave to some guy, he offered more money or something,” I answered, finishing the rest of the now cold coffee in one go.

“Can they do that?” Uncle Frank asked, I shrugged and got up from the couch. Heading over to the kitchen sink I began to wash the mug.

“It’s not like I signed a contract or anything so I guess,” I replied, regretful tears began to swim around the edges of my eyes again. Uncle Frank came up behind me and turned me around to face him, dishwater sloshed down his shirt, but he didn’t even notice.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked, I looked down for a moment and shook my head.

“No, I need to be mindless for a while,” I replied with a sigh.

If Friday nights are bad, Saturday nights are the worst. I was surprised that people still wanted to come into the place, given that it was like a mosh pit in here. We were running around like crazy behind the bar trying to fill all the orders yelled at us by demanding, and mostly drunk, customers. We hadn’t had someone go out onto the floor for the last two hours and I was sure there would probably be broken glass littering floor boards.

“Vixen go tell the kitchen to hurry up on those orders, the customers are getting snappy,” Uncle Frank yelled into my ear. I nodded, handing him the beer I was in the middle of pouring, I manoeuvred myself around Brandon and a couple of the other bar attendants and around the bar. Coughing from the smoky haze that hung about, I pushed through the crowd and over to the kitchen. The staff in here looked more drained than the bar staff.

“Hey chef, boss says to pick up the pace – the customers are complaining,” I yelled through the window. The chef turned to me, and indicated that they were doing all they could, then went back to work over the stove. I rolled my eyes lightly and turned around to go back to the bar, but someone caught my elbow and pulled me back around. I stared up the huge guy before me, easily towering over the heads of everyone around him, his long black hair, beard and tattoos made him a frightful sight.

“You work here?” he asked me loudly, pointing down at my apron and slacks, I nodded quickly and glanced up the group standing next to us, they were eyeing the guy carefully too. “Look my friend cut his hand on some glass; you got a first aid kit or something?” he asked, I nodded again quickly and put my finger up to show I wouldn’t be a minute. Turning around I pushed through the crowd even more hurriedly this time and went back to the bar. Searching through the cupboards it didn’t take me long to find the first aid kit, and I was back in the crowd in no time.

When I reached the guy, I held up the kit and followed him to a booth in the far corner; it was easier to get through the crowd this time; he managed to create a wide space between people for me to walk through. We reached the booth and he sat down, I placed the kit on the table top and looked around the table, there were three of them there all watching me. The big guy sat across from two smaller, but fairly sized, men; one with brown shoulder length hair and reading glasses, and the other with curly blonde hair – this was the one holding his bleeding hand up.

“I’ll just put some antiseptic on it and wrap it up, you should see a doctor tomorrow or something though,” I said quietly, dropping my gaze so I didn’t have to look at them watching me intently. I quickly cleaned and dressed the wound as best I could, I wanted to ask how he managed to get a chunk of glass in his hand, but I didn’t dare get the guts to do it. The whole time I was working there was an eerie silence around the trio, of course the rest of the place was loud enough to make up for that, but the way they just sat there not saying anything made me nervous.

“Done, like I said though – see a doctor,” I said once I had finished, the guy pulled his hand away from the table, still he didn’t say anything as I packed away the kit. I closed the lid and turned to go, hoping to disappear into the crowd, when a hand caught my elbow once more. I froze for a moment, and then turned slowly around with wide fearful eyes. The hand didn’t belong to the big guy this time though, instead in belonged to the one who I had just patched up. I moved my gaze from his grasp on my arm to find him staring intently at me, like he was trying to send me a telepathic message. I stared into his blue eyes for only a moment before I understood that message, my breath caught in my throat painfully.

“No fucking way,” I whispered. A big grin that showed his yellow teeth spread across his face, a loud laugh fell from his lips and he threw his arms in the air.

“Finally, I thought you were going to ignore me forever,” he boomed. I shoved the kit back on the table as he got up and hugged me, I had lost count of how many years it had been since we had last hugged, but the memories of how good it felt came flooding back. We gripped each other for a long time, it would probably make everyone around us feel awkward, but there was nothing awkward about this hug, it was a family reunion that I had never thought would happen again.

When we managed to break apart he held me out at arms length and laughed again, shaking his head. “VJ, VJ, VJ what the fuck have you done to yourself?” he asked with a smile. I cocked my eyebrow and grinned, he was the only one who had ever called me that; a warm feeling rocketed through me.

“I could ask the same, Corey,” I replied.