Disasterpiece

Josie had decided to catch up with some of her old work colleagues over lunch, letting me borrow her car on the provision that I picked her up and dropped her off so she could drink. I was more than happy to do this as it meant I could drive over to Corey’s and pick up his mail for him. Needless to say, it was lucky I did. His mailbox was full to the brim, so much so that when I popped the little back door open, some letters fell out. I wondered who checked it when he was away usually? Then a cold sensation ran down my back when I remembered his divorce.

I bundled up the envelopes, shoving them into my bag and got back into the car. Putting my keys in the ignition I started the engine then realised I had nowhere to go. Des Moines wasn’t massive so if I went home it’s not like I’d have a far drive to pick Josie up again…but I just didn’t feel like going home. I was suddenly above with productivity, I wanted to do something.

Putting on my seatbelt, I pulled out of the curb and starting driving towards the main part of Des Moines aimlessly. It wasn’t long before I realised that it wasn’t such an aimless drive, especially when I ended up right outside Uncle Frank’s (or should I say my?) bar. I parked the car on the side of the road, looking across the street at the brick walls and flashing signs of the bar. My fingers remained tightly gripped around the steering wheel as I stared, I felt like I was frozen in time – doomed to stare at the place I feared eternally.

But then I had managed to go to his house, and Brandon would be inside the bar working so it’s not like I’d be alone…

I unwrapped my fingers slowly from the steering wheel and undid my seatbelt. I could do this, if I wanted to be productive this was the best thing to do; after all it was only a matter of time before I’d have no choice but to either sell it or face my fears. Grabbing my bag I got out of the car and made my way across the street; taking a deep breath I held it as I crossed the threshold and entered the bar.

A familiar smell of beer and Tabaco hit me instantly, it was actually quite comforting, like the smell of your Mum’s best recipe wafting away from the oven. I let out my breath, looking around. There were a few people scattered about, some of the usual faces that practically lived here. Across the way I heard pans clanging together and the head chef barking orders in the kitchen. There were televisions playing football re-runs and the sound of slot machines going off out the back. I turned towards the bar and spotted Brandon with his back turned, pouring out a complex looking drink.

I sauntered over to the bar with a smile on my face, I’m not sure what I was worried about, it was actually nice to be back in the old haunt. Sneaking up behind Brandon, I placed my hands over his eyes and giggled.

“Guess who?” I sang. He pried my hands from his face, spinning around in excitement.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed happily, pulling me into a tight hug he lifted me into the air, spinning around. I laughed when he put me down, knocking him gently with my fist on the shoulder.

“Hi there,” I said with a grin.

“Hey to you, I can’t believe you came, this is great,” he rambled, too over excited by my presence to think straight.

“Yeah well I figured I should bite the bullet,” I explained, he nodded melodramatically.

“Definitely a good idea, let me get someone to cover and we’ll go out back,” he replied. I watched him disappear around the corner, a jittery jump in his step, then come back a minute later with a girl that I didn’t know following him. He brought the girl up to me, standing between us.

“Harriet this is Vixen, she’s your illusive boss…Vixen this is Harriet who we hired after you left,” Brandon introduced us. Harriet smiled at me, extending her hand which I took briefly.

“It’s really nice to meet you, your Uncle was a great boss so I know you’ll be too,” she gushed.

“I don’t know about that,” I joked defensively; I wasn’t even sure how to run a business let alone be up to the same standards as Uncle Frank.

“She’s joking, she’s a good boss. We’ll be out back so call us if you need us,” Brandon said to her, dismissing my comment. Harriet gave us a thumbs up as we passed her and walked out back. The staff room was exactly as I remember it; lockers, couches, kitchenette and a coffee table strewn with music magazines.

“It’s almost like being home,” I commented as we headed over to the couches and sat down, Brandon looked around, taking it all in and nodded.

“Yeah it feels that way ay?” he agreed. I pulled my bag from my shoulder, placing it down on top of the magazine pile. Brandon shuffled towards me, taking my hands into his.

“So what do you want to do?” he asked, his eyes were wide and eager to help me with whatever whim I divulged. I bit my lip, looking around. I was still in the mentality of being a simple staff member; I didn’t even know what Uncle Frank had to do to keep the business going.

“I have no idea…is there something I should be doing?” I asked him, remembering the last conversation I had with Uncle Frank where he said Brandon had stepped up and was learning management stuff. Brandon pondered for a moment, tapping his fingers against my hand in thought.

“I guess money is the most important thing to running a business…I can pull out some of Frank’s account files?” he suggested; I shrugged.

“It’s a start I suppose!” I replied. Brandon got up from the coach and headed over to the filing cabinets in the corner; pulling a set of keys from his pocket he opened the draws, searched around for a minute then pulled out a manila folder triumphantly.

“I think this is the most recent,” he said, closing the draws he headed back over, handed me the folder and sat down again. I took it in my hands carefully and opened it. Regardless of the fact that I didn’t even know what I was looking for, it seemed to be in shambles. There were bits of paper and receipts floating everywhere, even hand written notes and order forms.

“Wow,” I said, dumfounded. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the most unorganised account folder in history. Brandon leaned over, picking some paper out to go through.

“Jesus there’s a lot in here,” he commented, scanning over the documents he held. I placed the folder on the couch and pulled out some documents to read myself.

“Well this one’s an order form for the beer kegs…and this is a receipt from the local farmers market for some produce,” Brandon said out loud as he read over the forms.

“This one is a note from Uncle Frank to himself, telling him to call ‘Eddie’ and these ones are all wage payment confirmation slips,” I said as I read the forms in my hand. Brandon took the hand written note from me, flipping it over.

“Who do you think Eddie is?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” I shrugged. We continued to go through the rest of the papers, but they were all along the same lines, just receipts, orders and notes. Once we had gone through everything we both let out loud, hollow sighs.

“How can you run a business like this?” Brandon pondered, I shook my head.

“I have no idea…he use to spend hours doing accounting stuff though, I can’t believe this was all it was,” I replied. I could feel a stress rash coming on just thinking about all the different things we had found in the folder – all the different avenues on money going out of the business.

“Maybe the older folders are different?” Brandon suggested. Getting to his feet again he headed over to the filing cabinet and pulled it open. “Yes!” he exclaimed after a few moments. I looked over hopefully as he extracted another manila folder and walked back over. He sat down and opened it, to my relief all the content was divided into categories and there was a ‘monthly account overview’ stuck to the inside.

“He must not have got around to doing the latest one,” Brandon pointed out happily, I relaxed a little and smiled, I was worried that I was over my head more than I could deal with for a moment.

“And look at this,” Brandon said as he pointed to the bottom of the account overview. I looked where his finger was and saw a business card stapled to the bottom reading: ‘Eddie Smith, Results Accounting’ with some contact details.

“Oh thank god!” I breathed.

“We should give him a call,” Brandon said. “Where’s your phone?”

“In my bag,” I replied, pointing to where I left it on the coffee table. Brandon reached out to grab it, but in the process knocked it to the floor accidently. All of Corey’s mail came flooding out, spilling over the carpet.

“Shit I’m sorry!” Brandon apologised as we bent down to pick it up.

“No sweat,” I laughed, it was just paper after all. We started to gather up the envelopes when Brandon stopped me, holding one up to my face.

“Have you gone through these yet?” he asked, I shook my head. Brandon frowned, tapping the envelope in his hand. “You should call Corey, this is a court summons,” he said.

“What?!” I exclaimed in shock. Dropping the envelopes in my hands I took the summons off Brandon and examined it. It had the official Iowa State judicial symbol on the corner and looked pretty official. “Why would he get a court summons?” I wondered, knowing Brandon wouldn’t have an answer.

“Call Corey and ask if you should open it?” Brandon suggested. I nodded as Brandon delved into my bag and handed me my cell. Dialling Corey’s number I put the phone to my ear and began to pace nervously around the room.

“Hello?” Corey’s groggy voice greeted.

“Sorry to wake you but I collected your mail,” I told him.

“That’s nice…did you call to tell me that?” he chuckled tiredly, I guess he must’ve been sleeping.

“No actually…I, I mean we, just noticed that one of your letters is a court summons and we were wondering if we should open it for you?” I explained. Corey coughed suddenly in surprise.

“Why the fuck would I have court summons?” he pondered, confused.

“I have no idea – do you want me to open it?” I asked

“Yeah please do,” he replied.

“Ok hang on,” I said as I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder. I turned the envelope over, stuck my finger under the fold and pulled it across. The paper ripped easily and I let the envelope fall to the floor as I unfolded the contents.

“Ok…” I started as I began to read the letter. “It says…Mr Taylor…blah blah blah…you’ve been summoned to court to face charges relating to the indecent assault of one…” I trailed off, my face going pale as my blood pressure dropped.

“Assault of who?!” Corey exclaimed. But I couldn’t reply, my mouth had gone completely dry. “Vixen?!” Corey prompted impatiently.

Seeing my sudden change, Brandon got up from the couch and came over to me. Placing both hands on my shoulders he tried to fix eye contact with me. But I was frozen in dread, I couldn’t believe this.

“Vix what’s wrong?” Brandon asked, searching my features for an answer.

“Vixen?” Corey’s voice came again. My chest started to rise and fall heavily, panic filed through my core. I just couldn’t believe it. Upon realising I wasn’t going to answer him, Brandon took the paper and the phone from the grasp and read the rest of the letter to Corey.

“Hey Corey it’s Brandon…I don’t know what’s going on but the letter reads that…um…summoned to court to face charges relating to the indecent assault of one Michael Bayer, does that mean anything to you?” Brandon told him. Even I could hear Corey explode in a string of profanities.

I guess Mr Squiggle will always weed his way back into my life.