Key West - Part Six (of Eight)
The bar from Jody’s story was gone, swept out to sea.
Previously: Key West, with it’s many bars and restaurants, had more conch fritters than you could shake a stick at, but Matt Lang was not really in a stick-shaking mood and he didn’t like conch fritters, so he didn’t order any, not even in Key West, a place called the Conch Republic by those who like to pretend that it’s something that it’s not.
The First Trip
Jody’s hair was still a bit wet as he walked a few steps ahead of Matt along Truman towards Duval. The late afternoon was hissing with heat and humidity, and the sun seemed like it lived just above the trees. They had no plan; they only had Jody’s guidebook-gleaned knowledge that all the good stuff was on Duval Street. Jody stopped at the intersection, Matt stopped next to him.
Which way?
Jody looked left, Jody looked right. Jody said, This way.
They both went left and they still had no plan and they smelled like they had been driving for days, which they had. They met a drag queen on the sidewalk. She invited them to a show. Jody took her hand, kissed her fingers, and said they would be delighted. Matt followed him inside.
The Second Trip
Matt stood in front of The Opal House. He knew it by the name and by the aquarium behind the bar, visible from the sidewalk. Jody’s ashes were in the pocket of his shorts. He worked the bag open with his finger but he stayed outside. The bar didn’t look right, and he didn’t think it was going to look any more right if he went inside.
It wasn’t the bar from Jody’s stories. The bar from Jody’s story was gone, swept out to sea. The closest thing left was the set of drawings.
The ashes stayed in his pocket and he walked on down the street.
Thank you for reading. Up next:
I said the rain is SO FUCKING LOUD!