He rolled his eyes. “Max. My old friend, Max. He was the guy who told me about this place.”
“How do you know him?”
Dex squinted off into the distance, pursed his lips slightly. “In college. We were in the same band.”
“Sing Sin Sinatra,” I said excitedly, remembering that he used to be the singer in a lounge/rock band. He never talked about it much and there were no YouTube clips so I didn’t know too much about them. But I did know he had an amazing voice, no surprise considering how sexy his gravely speaking voice was.
Did I say sexy? Whoops.
He looked a bit chagrined, maybe a bit annoyed. “Yeah, that was it. He played bass. We lost touch but, you know, found each other and shit on Facebook. Turns out these days, he’s a…a…well, I’ll just come out and say it, a ghost whisperer.”
I raised my brows. “Aren’t we considered that?”
He smiled and fished out a piece of Nicorette gum out of his pocket. He started chewing it faster than he should have. Old friend or not, Dex didn’t like talking about him. Or maybe it was the past he didn’t like talking about.
“This guy is supposedly a real ghost whisperer,” he said between chews. “He’s kind of for hire. People call him when they want someone to talk to their dead loved ones.”
“Are you serious?”
His mouth slowed down. “I am serious. Doesn’t mean I think he’s legit.”
He looked around him and peered through the door before continuing, voice lowered, “Actually, I think he’s full of shit. But he called me here and I don’t think he would have done that for nothing.”
And with that he spit out his gum and opened the door to the bar. “After you.”
I walked into the bar. It was dark, very dark, with shades pulled down on most of the streaky windows. It was probably to keep the heat out, and it was doing a fine job, along with the various huge wooden fans that whirred creakily from the ceiling. It gave the place a rather morbid, squalid feel.
A woman stood behind the bar serving a beer to a man who looked like Will Farrell’s Old Prospector from Saturday Night Live, complete with filthy hat and denim jacket. The bartender paused, looking us up and down before giving the man his drink. She was tall, pushing late thirties, weathered and no nonsense. She regarded us very cautiously with no hint of hospitality.
Dex came in beside me gave the woman a quick wave and smile. “Good afternoon. We’re here to meet someone.”
She didn’t say anything but her eyes shifted to the left.
To the left we looked. That part of the bar opened up into a much larger area. There were a couple of pool tables, an ancient pinball machine, scattered tables and chairs, a sawdust floor, lazily placed barrels for “ambience” and a row of booths. In the last booth sat a tall man, the only other person in the bar.
I looked at Dex and whispered, “Is that him?”
Dex stared at him and didn’t mutter a word, but I could see the recognition in his eyes, the wheels turning. We’d found him.
Max looked down at the table, writing something with care. He had earphones on, so he probably didn’t hear us come in but from the engrossed look on his face, he probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway. He was rather attractive – my first thought was that he looked like a ginger rockabilly. He had red hair pushed back into a top-heavy coif, thick lips that were ready to snarl. I couldn’t see his eyes properly but I bet they were green. He was wearing a faded blue flannel shirt that fit his wide frame nicely and gave him a wholesome look that stood out in this joint. Light spilled in from the window next to him, showcasing the dust that floated around his head.
Dex cleared his throat (nervously?) and walked towards him. I followed, wondering if this was going to awkward somehow.
Max looked up as Dex approached and immediately grinned. He threw his earphones on the table with a clatter and leaped up. Standing in front of us I could see how tall he really was, a big, barrel-chested thing of a man.
“Well looky what the cat dragged in!” Max exclaimed and embraced Dex in a bear hug that nearly picked him off the ground. I couldn’t see Dex’s face but he had to be uncomfortable. He didn’t seem like a public affection kind of guy.
They parted, the dust swirling around them.
“Good to see you Max,” he said. “It’s been a while.”
Dex sounded a bit melancholic. Max continued to smile but his eyes fell a bit. I felt like I was intruding on something from out of the past. A lot of baggage hung in the air between them.
“It’s been too long,” Max said carefully, still with a grin. He had a creamy Southern drawl.
“Just long enough.”
They both smiled at each other with a tinge of shame. Maybe I was imagining that though. Either way, I was starting to feel shy and out of place. I looked behind me at the bartender. She was watching us all intensely. She caught my eye, moved over to a radio and flicked a switch. “Radar Love” came blaring on the speakers. It took me a second to realize the bar must have been dead quiet before.
“Max, this is Perry,” I heard Dex say.
I turned and gave the tall redhead a smile. “Nice to meet you, Max.”
I offered him my hand which he took and shook between his two, large hands. I couldn’t help but stare at them. Nice hands, nice forearms. No wedding ring. Then I remembered I had one on my own damn hand.
“You can call me Maximus, please,” he implored. I looked up at him. I was right, he had very nice, bright green eyes.
Dex snorted. “Maximus? You hated that name.”
Maximus let go of my hand and answered Dex while looking at me, “I hated a lot of things when I was young and stupid.”
“Anyway,” Dex injected, “shall we get down to it?”
“You’re in quite the rush, aren’t you?” Max pondered, more of statement than a question. He was right. Dex was looking agitated, the toothpick was back in his mouth again. I felt a rush of sympathy remembering his medication problems, so I touched Dex’s shoulder and gently pushed him to the booth.
“Why don’t you boys sit down while I get us all beers, OK? My treat,” I smiled broadly at them, trying to dissipate the tension that seemed to be emanating from Dex.
“Why, thank you Perry,” Maximus drawled. “That’s mighty kind of you. Shit.”