The sun was hovering over the horizon on the island, slightly above the mist that shields it. In one of its pine forests, whose mosquitos were almost as bad as the unbearable humidity of summer near the equator, sat a bundle of leaves and sticks next to a dead fallen tree in a clearing. A nest. Inside it was a batch of decently sized eggs, the size of an ostrich and the color of a cashew. In one of the pines just near the clearing, hugging the somewhat-skinny trunk, was a tree stand hidden to the regular eye by the shadows of the forest. On the stand were two women, both researchers; Grace and another person. They were both watching expectantly at the nest, waiting for the mother to return.
The former was wearing her shoulder-length brown hair in a ponytail snaked down her back. Grace’s mind was null at that moment, looking about the forest before turning her attention to her companion. Grace would be lying if she said Dani wasn’t enjoyable company, it would be glaringly false. Her character was one to admire, she was sociable and fun to be around. Grace couldn’t hold or start a conversation for shit, contrasting the latter’s natural approach to people. People were also drawn to her for this and her appearance, and Grace could see why. Her body was nice, and she was decently muscular. Her deep brown curls were parted at the side and always looked nice, and they heavily complimented her warm chestnut complexion.
Grace turned back to the trees and thought to herself to pass the time while waiting for the nest’s owner to show up, particularly about the mystery of their ‘right of passage,’ per se, to the island. After all, it’s been restricted for like thirty years. Before it was just another island in the Bahamas, untouched by humans. Conspiracy theorists had an unbridled time for a while trying to figure out why it became restricted, hell they still do. The only thing was they were the ones claiming baseless or simply stupid theories such as a flat earth or bigfoot. Really it was a mystery Grace didn’t care to know. Just wondering is fine, plus what else is there to do? She got bored thinking about it, and she refocused on the forest. It already lost its glamor after sitting out here. The time waiting for the maker of the nest to return made it simply stale. The exotic calls of colorful warblers and cardinals that filled the trees with sound seemed just monotone, the vibrant green foliage appeared duller, even the awful humidity of the Bahamian island seemed a bit less terrible. The entire place just felt so still and, again, stale. The silence of the tree stand insinuated it, stoking the quiet every passing minute like a bonfire. One that would continue to burn unless one of them said something.
Grace turned to the other woman to break the muteness, “Y’know, we haven’t really talked much since we got here.”
“You mean you haven’t really talked since we got here. I know the guys relatively well, and we both know they have plenty of time with each other,” she responded, “You always hang back by your station or that creek next to it.”
“I find it relaxing. But, this is killing me. The waiting, I mean, so I wanted to do some icebreakers.”
“Alright, I’m open to em’, just don’t get too personal.”
“Well to start, favorite food?”
“Oh, has to be steak and wild rice. ”
“Honestly shrimp is pretty good to me. I never liked crab, thought it tasted like shit, but shrimp is the best.”
“Hm, y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever had seafood. I’ll have to have some when we leave. Wait do we switch between each other on who’s asking?”
“Yep. So your turn,” Grace said, repositioning her legs from dangling off the stand to a more comfortable crossed pose.
“Uhhhh, the weirdest fact you know about the animals you study?”
“That one’s good,” Grace remarked with a slight smile, “Not a fact, but it’s always fun showing people owls without feathers and seeing their reaction.”
“Mine’s very different. A paper from 1913 about penguins described Gentoos doing unspeakable things ranging from severed heads to the ground! Definitely the wildest, at least.”
“I agree, very wild, but why and how do you know that?” asked Grace with a baffled expression painted on her face.
“I like trivia like that, y’know? Something random you just tell people to see their reaction.”
“No no, I definitely get that. Just my question is how do you know the year? I wouldn’t be close to remembering when something like that came out.”
The second woman just shrugged and Grace followed it up with “Alright, any pets?”
“I just got two zebra finches I named Chip and Dale.”
“I’ve got a dog named Ginger, great dane, she’s really sweet.”
“Alright, I’ve got one that kind of crosses my ‘no personal questions’ rule.”
“It’s fine, I don’t think there’s much about me that’s too personal.”
“Ok, just wanted to make sure. What do you look for in a partner?”
“Eh, I haven't been too interested in seeing anyone. I haven't had the time and. for now at least, I think I'm going solo for a hot minute.”
“I feel that, I was doing that for a while. But, if you had to pick something in someone, what would you pick?
She shifted slightly, "I guess someone with a good personality, someone who isn't a douche. Someone who could make me laugh. I haven't met anyone who could do that though, on either side."
"I agree with the personality thing. The only big 'red flag' for me is smoking, though. Doesn't matter what, I wouldn't want to date a smoker."
Grace hummed at that, and the silence returned for a short time, barely a minute and more listless than the quiet before the conversation. Refusing to revert back into the silence, she tosses another question to liven it up again.
“Best vacation you’ve had?”
“This one is pretty neat, but I guess the time I went on a road trip to follow the Triple Crown was pretty good,” she gestures to Grace, who answers, “I haven't gone on any in a while. Guess coming here counts as one.”
There was another reprise from the casual conversation, once again only for a moment, before the second woman asked, “Did you have any other ideas for what we could do while we wait?”
“I guess something like a crossword or a mad-lib? But don’t only the truly boring do those for fun?” responded Grace, with a sly look in her eye, knowing her companion had at least one of them in her bag.
The other blushed a small bit, “I mean, why would I have a crossword or mad-lib! Like you said only the ‘truly boreing’ have some,” she awkwardly chuckled to herself while looking at her bag.
Grace chuckled slightly, “Dani, I know you have something in there. I’ve seen so many completed ones in your drawers it’s like an eighth ocean.”
The other, Dani, sighed and defeatedly took a generic-looking mad-lib pamphlet from her bag. She flipped through the already completed stories to a blank page.
“Alright, Grace, you gotta noun?” asked Dani.
“Hmm, starling,” she writes it.
“Verb.”
“Watching.”
“Plural noun.”
“How about trees.”
“Now an amount of time.”
“Five hours.” Dani glanced up at Grace, before pivoting back onto the tall paper.
“Onomonopia.”
“The fucking what? Oh yeah, uhm, bang.”
“Adverb”
“Quickly.”
A rustling came from the bushes below, and the barely heard sound of footsteps.
“Adjective.”
“Quiet.”
“Ok, and-”
“No, quiet!” Grace whispered loudly.
A branch had snapped as soon as they hushed themselves, and the forest’s stillness went away instantly. There was still silence, perhaps more than before, but everything Grace considered dull became obscured by the movement of the brush. It was crisper than cold wind and had become the central point of the duo’s concentration. Their eyes were locked on where the movement was coming from. Grace took out binoculars and started following the unknown entity. The bush was thick from all angles, and even the leverage tree stand’s view didn’t allow for a better look at the animal. The crunching twigs and leaves underneath the feet of whatever was walking were coming closer.
“Do you see it?” Dani asked quietly.
“No, not yet,” Grace answered, also hushed.
The creature got close enough so that even its breath was audible to the two, as well as the small clicks of its beak. The forest floor’s crunching stopped, or somewhat slowed, as it reached the near edge of the thick brush. Their fixation was as sharp as a dagger on the spot where the sounds stopped. The animal revealed itself, by sticking its head out of the bushes in one motion. Its small head had a crown of black feathers over its large burgundy-orange eyes held by an extremely fluffy long neck. Its keratinized snout clicked and clacked more as it surveyed the surrounding area looking for threats.
“That’s her!” whispered Dani excitedly.
Grace only put her finger to her lips to silence her, and mouthed, “Remember last time?”
The animal laid its eyes upon the nest and stepped out of the cover. It strode to the nest, slightly cocking its head in a bird-like manner as it walked, and inspected that as well, with the occasional glances up to radar the clearing.
“Do you have a clear shot?” whispered Grace as silent as she could muster, and Dani took out her camera.
She steadied it towards the ratite-like creature, turning the flash off before snapping a picture. No sound or reaction from the creature, now plucking small wild berries growing from underneath the log in the clearing. She re-aims the camera, and the flash goes off in a bright red.
In the flash, Grace saw rain, blood, and a building. It lasted for a second. When she refocused she saw the creature below and Dani lining up for a third shot.
“The fuck, what just happened?” she questioned confusedly in her head, strangely seeming to echo throughout the forest.
Dani snapped again and the same flash showed up, and it was the same scene. Rain. Blood. Building. Creature.
Wait, what was that?
Grace couldn’t remember it in the flash, and a fourth flash went off before she controlled her thoughts. Rain. Blood. Building. Creature. Staring down. It came down on her faster than a blink.
She woke up.
***
The early morning breeze raced in the sky, descending and lifting any of the very few dead leaves along the street or in the trees. It flew down the road, taking the bird’s chirps and songs with it as it glided along the ground. A dove’s cooing was one of the sounds traveling the breeze. The bird was perched up on the branch of a young elm tree by the street, hopping on the branches to reach a point to glide down with the wind. It jumped into the air and glided down to the curb underneath the tree to peck at the seeds on the road. It picked up and ate a couple before it flew to a gutter by a window, landing on the edge of it. It traveled down to its nest, where three little hatchlings, each vying for some of the food. It dropped crop milk in each of its chicks' mouths, but it almost flew off when the faint sound of buzzing startled it.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Grace reared up in her bed and in a heartbeat, breathing like an overheated dog. She stayed like that, staring at nothing, until she managed to calm her breath and nerves. She pulled her hand up to her forehead, swatting away cold sweat as well as a few stray locks of dark brown hair. She took a moment to breathe before feeling her pulse.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
She wanted to scold herself, but she didn’t have the energy to. She sighed shakily and already started trying to forget the memory-turned-nightmare had happened at all, something that has started to become more apparent. It was the fourth time that same dream happened in a week.
Grace looked out the window and saw the dove on her gutter, sitting on the nest and looking curiously into the window. She remembered the alarm was still going off after a moment and turned it off as she got out of bed. She patted her sleeping great dane, Ginger, as it slept in its dog bed, and she stumbled tiredly into her bathroom.
When she walked in, she observed her tired state in the mirror.
Her eyes looked like she had gotten no sleep, and the bags under them hung like hammocks from either corner of both eyes. She itched the area around her piercings, between the bridge of her nose and left eyebrow, and pushed more of her shoulder-length dyed hair out of her face. This prompted her to pull on a few blonde strands starting to grow from her roots, sighing as she let them fall back onto her head.
“Gonna have to dye it again soon,” she thought before getting ready for the day.
Once she was done, Grace went downstairs, now dressed in a light gray business casual blouse and black pants with her hair in a ponytail. She filled her dog’s bowls, grabbed her keys, and opened her front door to the slap of the wind. She stepped outside, smelling the scent of fresh-cut grass and the sound of her neighbor cutting said grass.
“Won’t be long before it gets hot as hell,” she thought as she stepped down from her covered porch.
Her old blue Camry, which looked like it had been through a battle, sat at the top of her small asphalt driveway at the top of a short yet steep hill, with a thin concrete sidewalk connecting to the porch. She casually strolled down this walk to her car, got in, and backed out of her driveway. Once on the street of her neighborhood, she drove off towards Laurel county.
* * *
Grace got her things together and started off to her car when a voice from behind her asked, “Leaving early?”
She turned to see it was her co-worker, James, standing by her desk. He was short, about five foot one, with long brown hair in a ponytail similar to Grace’s, and matching brown eyes. He was also wearing an outfit a bit similar to hers, just only slightly different.
“Yeah, I wanted to take off a bit so I could see family.”
“That’s nice. You don’t really talk about them much.”
“We haven’t talked much in a while, I’m going to catch up.”
“Ah, alright, alright, well hope you enjoy yourself.”
Grace mutters a “Thanks” at this and heads back to her car. Before getting into the driver’s seat, she checked her watch. It read 11:47.
“He should call me any second…”
Her phone started buzzing in her pocket, just minutes after the thought. She had already gotten into her car and started it before pulling out her phone & answering the call.
“Hello?” asked the voice at the other end of the phone.
“Hey Chris, I’m leaving work now. It should take me like forty-four minutes to get to White Marsh.”
“I was actually calling to let you know that mom and dad couldn’t make it today.”
Grace sighed disappointedly, “I can’t say I’m surprised. When did they want to reschedule?”
“That’s the thing, they said they won’t be able to for a while.”
Of course they wouldn’t want to see her. Honestly, she’d be more than surprised if they had shown up. They’ve always been ones to hold grudges, no wonder they’re essentially disowned by their families.
“And,” Chris continued, “They canceled the reservation, so I think the best option is that coffee spot across the street.”
“Really? No other options? Just De la Cruz?”
“Yeah, I tried to find some other place but that’s the best out of them all.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
She sighed again, “I guess that works. See you in a bit.”
Grace hangs up the phone and slides it back into her pocket. She stares ahead to the woods across from the lot for a minute. It lasted for something barely longer than a moment before starting her car, backing out of her spot, and exiting the parking lot towards White Marsh.
The drive over took forty-six minutes to get to Nottingham Square, and Grace pulled into the relatively small lot of the block of stores. She got out and walked into the coffee shop.
The inside was filled with the sound of the blender and chatter between people. It was relatively empty, yet even if it was crowded, she could effortlessly have spotted her brother. He was an inch or two taller than Grace and was tanned near the point of sunburn, with a paler spot around his eyes in the shape of sunglasses. His face was mostly clean-shaven, save for some stubble, and his nose was nearly similar to hers, only slightly rounder. He was wearing a black t-shirt with the Jurassic Park logo on the front, gray shorts, and a cap that read “Ocean City Police Department.” She took note of the hat while walking over to the table and tapping him on the shoulder. He turned his head and beamed the second he saw her.
“Grace!” he said, getting up to hug her, “It’s been so long, it’s great to see you!”
“You too,” she responded, before pulling away and down to a chair, “So what’ve you been up to since we talked?”
“Well, I moved out of my apartment and bought a pretty small condo in Ocean City, for starters. It’s really peaceful in the off-season, just a bit chaotic during the summer months. It pays off, though, you can get a job or two for extra cash during the vacation season, like a lifeguard or a server at the Bonfire.”
“And I’m guessing you’ve got both right now?”
“Actually, my job is required year-round.”
“There it is,” thought Grace, “So what is it?”
“Oh yeah, I should’ve started off with this. Right around when you left for Avetoro,” Grace almost shutters at the mention of it, “I started at the police academy and graduated within a month.”
“That’s great! Just confirm for me quickly, what rank are you?”
“I just got promoted to sergeant last month.”
“That’s nice, very nice,” Grace trails into thought for a moment, looking for something to say. She settled on one, and asked, “How’s mom and dad?”
“They’re fine. We’re still in contact, but they only call unless necessary. If your curious, they ask a lot if I’ve talked to you.”
Grace was surprised by this. Actually, she was very surprised by this. While she kept her reaction tame, this got her questioning whether they actually did come to their senses. Did they really want to talk to her, after so long? She pushed these thoughts to the backburner before bringing up a second question, “You seeing anyone right now?”
“I’m on and off. I’m just trying to find the right person. I’ve actually got a date tonight. I met her on Tinder, we’re hitting Bonfire then Jolly Rogers. But, now, how have you been?”
“I’ve been good, could be better but that’s the case for everything. I’ve got a new job, I also got a different living situation. I’m not seeing anyone, don’t really mind that I’m not, we both know it’s not my kind of thing.”
“Right, right. That was one reason they wanted to come, to make things better between you.”
They did? They really did? Grace quickly tossed that question aside in an effort to prevent more from manifesting, but it was swiftly replaced by uncertainty.
“I seriously doubt it, they stormed out shrieking when I told them. We only talked after you prodded them to, and things weren’t better when I left for that island. Tolerable at best.”
Chris nodded at this, muttering “I know, I just wanted to try and make things better between you three,” before asking, “Uh, what about work? You said you had a different job?”
“Yeah, I quit my job at the university and applied for a job at Fish and Wildlife. I got it a month after… yeah, and I’ve worked there since. It’s a pretty good job, especially the part where we’re right next to a forest. It makes for a relaxing walk on break. And it pays better, always a plus.”
“Good, good. How about we get some drinks?”
“Sure, what do you want.”
“Just a sweet tea, venti.”
She nods and walks up to the counter to order. The young barista behind it was a bit shorter than Grace, with a small chin and thin lips. He had a nose ring and slightly long black hair with a bright pink streak in one of his bangs.
“What can I get you?” he asked tiredly.
“Venti black tea and a grande vanilla latte.”
“Alright. What is the name of your order?”
“Grace. G-R-A-C-E.”
The barista glanced at her bitterly, though she ignored him as she paid for the drinks and started to wait for them to be finished. She pulled her phone out during this time, with half her attention listening to the barista making the beverages. In her peripherals, she saw night flashing in and out.
“The hell?” Grace thought as she looked up, and saw a windshield. She was in a car in a garage, with a garage door wide open. Outside she saw the creature again, staring inside and at her. It thundered its crocodilian roar and ran at her in a heartbeat. The terrible sound rang through her like an echo in a cavern. Grace backed up a step and froze, then blinked as it got to the windshield. The roar stopped and morphed into the sound of the blender, manned by the barista. She blinked again, and again. Still the blender, not the roar, and still the young barista.
Grace sighed, one of exhaustion, and felt familiar cold sweat drip from her hair. The moment lasted only for a second, but it felt infinite to her. It wasn’t long before the tea was done, and she brought it over to her brother.
He gave her a small “Thank you” and a smile before Grace returned to the counter after hearing the blender stop. Her drink was placed on the counter, and she retrieved it. She went back to the table and sat once again with her brother. Both sat for a moment and drank their respective drinks, and returned to talking following it. They both told stories from over the past two years, good and bad.
“So, y’know today’s the 29th anniversary of Jurassic Park,” Chris brought up after a riveting conversation about predatory birds.
“Hmm, never been a fan,” Grace replied.
“I know, but you know I am,” he said, gesturing to his shirt.
“Your idea of impressing this Tinder woman- Britney you said her name was?” She knew she was wrong about her name, she’s never been good with names.
“Brooke.”
“Brooke- is to wear a Jurassic Park shirt?”
He gave her a face that could only be summed up with “Really?”
“No,” he started, “I’m changing to something much better once I get home.”
“And it takes like three hours to get to Ocean City from here?”
“Just about. By the way, what time is it?”
Grace looked down at her watch, reading “3:17,” and recited the time to him.
“Crap, I’m supposed to meet her at six!” he said, rising from his seat, “Well I’ve gotta go. Like now.”
Grace got up as well, saying “Well, it was good seeing you.”
“You too,” he responded as he quickly hugged her and speedily walked out the door.
Grace grabbed her empty frap cup and threw it away, only noticing as it dropped that the label read “Grayce” on the cup. She shot a glare at the barista, who took notice in seconds. He returned the gesture with a leer, and Grace walked out of the cafe.
* * *
It was about four hours after Grace had left the coffee shop and three hours since she got home, with the time in between being spent doing various errands, like getting dog food and picking up food for herself. After she arrived home, she sat on her couch in her living room and turned on her television. The channel was on CNN, in the middle of commercials, and she sat on her phone for a while, not realizing that the commercials ended. This was, however, until the words of the anchor shot to the forefront of her mind.
“In other news, it has been two years since the disappearances on the Bahamian island of Avetoro, a cold case more infamous than any other as well as more mysterious. The missing people-”
Grace didn’t hear the rest. Her head shot up as she realized the date. She looked to the corner of the screen to confirm the date.
June 11th. Two years since Avetoro, to the day.
Has it already been two years since that island? The years that had passed since Avetoro made time into something prolonging, but reflecting on them, it was shorter than perceived. But Grace didn’t want to hear the name of that island, not even think of it. The thought of it made Grace sick, god she almost felt like vomiting. She remembered every detail; the feel of every raindrop, the glass shards in her skin, the sight of the creature’s stare, dear god that stare! It was worse than getting pierced by the world’s sharpest knife, it was like getting pierced through the soul. It was an animal, but its unholy stare was monstrously evil.
Its roar, the roar was equally terrible. It sounded almost like an alligator’s rumble, but it was… the best word to describe it was angry. As angry and infuriated as a raging bull. That harrowing sound rumbled in her core anytime she was reminded of it. Grace always wanted to shove every thought about that creature and those memories as far down as she could, but it still haunted every nightmare, flashback, every moment she’s experienced since that day. But she decided then that today, she just wanted to forget it. If just for a single day she doesn’t think about it, or Avetoro, or the sight of what she saw, she’d be more than happy to die the next day.
So Grace started attempting to forget. First, she wanted to finish some extra work while she was free, just to make sure she wasn’t behind for Monday. It was certainly effective at shutting it out, but only to a point since she finished quite soon after she started. Then she decided on drawing up random birds. She set up a lo-fi playlist and grabbed one of her mostly-empty sketchbooks. This was ineffective. Despite her consistent unwavering focus on the page and the reference images, when she started a sketch, it always ended with a page of messy pencil marks or something almost resembling a bird, but always distorted with horns or tails. One of them ended up as an emu with an uncharacteristic tail and arms. Ok, so drawing won’t work. After that conclusion, she attempted to binge Breaking Bad. Honestly, she couldn’t figure out why she thought that’d work. She heard good things about it, but just watching the first episode made her remember why she didn’t watch it in the first place; really slow start.
It only took until the second episode for her to think about going to a bar. Which also made her realize that it's also been two years since she went out anywhere to eat or for drinks. Hence, she went upstairs to get changed into something better than a blouse and slacks. When she came back downstairs a bit later, she was now in her tan-brown leather jacket over a black square-collared top and a pair of relatively long & loose jean shorts. Her hair was also no longer in a ponytail, now much more styled. She wanted to look nice, but she wasn’t dressing to impress. Just enough to make sure no one wants to get a date out of her. So she stepped out onto the porch and called for an Uber. After all, with how drunk she intended to get, there was no chance of her driving home.
It didn’t take it very long to arrive at her house, and when she got in she observed the driver was a fairly slim man with black hair and a small amount of stubble. It was a short drive to the bar, Lucky Nights, and it was extremely silent. No attempted discussion from the driver, just tranquility. When they arrived and Grace exited, she swiftly pulled out her phone and gave her driver five stars. Perfect for an introvert. When she walked in, she instantly remembered what kind of place it was, one with crappy food but good drinks. That’s what Grace had described it as, anyways. The interior was exactly what you’d expect from a bar; TVs with various channels playing, the smell of liquor on each side of you, and the loud background noise of people talking. The bartender approached her seat a few minutes after her sitting down. He was an older man, about mid-forties with a completely bald head that shone like a gem anytime a light shone on it, and deep eyes, as if he hadn’t slept his entire life. His energy, however, was quite the contrary.
“Hello, ma’am, what could I get you tonight!” he said in a jovial way with a grin to match. He spoke in a slight Boston accent, you could only tell if you paid attention to his voice.
“You got Coors Light?” she asked, feigning a small smile.
“Sure do, I’ll get that right for ya’.”
At this, he moved away from her to fetch the beer. The bar was noticeably crowded, but it wasn’t surprising. It was happy hour on a Friday, if anything it was a certainty. There was also quite the variety tonight as well. A lot of the people there seemed they had just gotten off work, as most were wearing attire typical of business casual. One group of guys in unbuttoned collared shirts and surrounded by dozens of empty beer cans and bottles were seated on a couple of stools across from Grace, chatting and roaring with laughter every other minute. There were also a decent amount of people drinking alone, Grace assumed they came here for the same reason she did. Her people-watching ended momentarily as the bartender returned with her drink, saying “Enjoy” as he set it in front of her.
She thanked him, and nearly took half of what was in the bottle in one gulp. It didn’t take long for her to finish the first one, so she ordered a second, then afterward a third, as well as a plate of french fries.
When she almost finished the third, when she started to feel buzzed, she saw from her peripherals that one of the men in the group across from her was gesturing towards her before turning back to his friends. Grace pondered why, she couldn’t care less if they were mocking her. She could care even less if they thought she was attractive. She noticed one of the men get up and walk to her side of the bar. In a second she felt a strong tap on the shoulder. She whipped her head over her shoulder around and she saw the face of the man who walked over. The guy had a graying small beard with a mustache, which almost connected with his similarly graying sideburns. His eyes were brown, very dull, and he was decently cut. Not muscular, just cut. He was wearing a smirk spreading across his face.
“Hey babe, lemme buy you a drink,” he slurred drunkenly, before promptly sitting down on the stool next to Grace and grabbing a decent amount of fries.
“Seems like a douchebag. Definitely wasted. Hmmm, but I could probably get that drink from em,” Grace thought before responding “Sure, thanks.”
Grace finished off her drink before calling over the bartender, who arrived still in a positive manner.
“I’m going to guess another Coors Light for you, ma’am?” he asked, still with his smile and now dashing his eyes between her and her new companion.
“Yes, it will be,” the guy next to her answered for her without skipping a beat, which caused the bartender's smile to wane slightly and glare at the man. He nodded and got started on the drink once more.
“Yep, definitely a douche.”
“I never asked jur’ name, can I ask? I’m Darren, by the way,” Darren said. Despite being a good bit away from her, Grace could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath, which he added to by swiftly swigging the last of his beer.
“Grace,” she replied, before turning her attention to the people in the bar, attempting to make it obvious that she wasn’t interested. That, however, did not faze him.
“So, whatcha you here for?” he asked, which Grace ignored, “Blow off steam, ‘ang with friends, drink your problemses away…”
Grace forced a chuckle, before responding “I came to forget something that happened today a while ago.”
“Notta many things happened today to make wanna forget, like… like like the people on zat island?” he said impulsively, continuing to speak perfect cursive, “People go missing all the time, and they’re probably-”
He hushed up in an instant once he saw the glare Grace shot him with. The blissful silence from Darren that followed, unfortunately, didn’t last long, as the bartender arrived once more with her fourth drink.
“Put it on our bill, would’ja?” he said, gesturing to the group he was previously seated with, before turning back to Grace, “Wanna join us?”
She sipped some of her drink and set it down to look back at Darren, “I’m good, and if you could kindly fuck off, that’d be appreciated.”
This clearly caught the guy off-guard, as his face went from smug to astonished, his mouth more agape than before and eyes as wide as he could make them, which was not very. It took him a second to return to his previous attitude again, and when he did, he laughed aloud and asked, “Excuse me?”
“Unless you’re deaf and a drunk asshole, you heard me. You paid for my drink, so you can leave,” Grace said, taking another gulp of the bottle. This response was not to his likening, as Darren’s fists slightly balled up and his face got redder than it already was.
“That s’not how that-that works, now come join us,” he said those last words especially firm. Before Grace could make another smart remark that, after she had thought about it, probably would’ve gotten her punched, she heard the bartender say something first. This also made her notice that he’d been lingering around her stool since he slid over the previous drink.
“You heard her, sir. Go back to where you were,” he told him adamantly.
The man roared with anger and shouted “Son of a bitch I’ll fight you!”
He then swung a punch at the bartender, which was easily avoided, and he grabbed the drunk man’s arm as he was pulling back for a second attempt. He pulled him down to the counter and brought his head closer for him to whisper something in Darren’s ear. The latter’s eyes widened like he had just seen God, and reared back as soon as the bartender let go. He looked back and forth between Grace and the bartender in unrestrained terror, before walking back to his friends in a barely straight line than when he stumbled over to her in the first place.
“Huh, thank you,” she said, “What’d you even say to him?”
“I was overhearing the things they were talking about while bringing their beer,” he explained, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, “And they said some unfavorable things about their female co-workers. I just threatened to tell their boss about it, which I will, and they’ll probably be fired and sued by damn-near every woman at that company!”
Grace snickered at that last comment mid-sip, nearly spilling her drink all over herself. She placed it back on the counter and cheerfully responded “Well, I’d hope the worst for them!”
She promptly nabbed the bottle again and swigged the last of it down. She then requested a fifth and happily continued the conversation between her and the bartender, whose name she quickly learned was Matthew. It turned out that he was quite the respected person at the bar. He continued to bartend while he talked with Grace, and she observed he was quite a good mixologist. Nearly everyone who he interacted with was friendly, save for Darren’s group, unsurprisingly, who left shortly after. And he always greeted this friendliness with more positivity. Their conversation continued into the night, as people came and went. It was also into another five drinks for Grace, until she might as well be knocked out. She felt like it, at least. She chugged down the tenth drink of the night, slamming the near-empty bottle on the table with such force that it almost broke. God damn those lights are bright, she could’ve sworn they were floodlights! Wait, no don’t focus on the lights, she looked back down to the bartender.
“Y’know, I only came here to get super fucked up, but I think I got too… HIC… drunk,” she slurred, taking for a moment to finish her last few drops of beer, before continuing, “Wha’s my tab?”
The bartender, and for the life of her Grace couldn’t fathom his name in her intoxicated state, returned to her spot at the bar and checked a notepad he had on him.
“About thirty dollars and fifteen cents,” he said.
Grace grabbed her wallet out of her back short pockets, feeling the denim texture as she did. She glossed over the dollar signs as she pulled them out and slammed them on the table. She waited for the bartender to count them all, moved to get off the stool, but proceeded to nearly fall flat on her face. Her hand still being on the counter aided her not-falling.
“Ma’am, you’re in no right way to drive!” the bartender shouted after her.
“Do- don’t worry, I took n’ Uner here. Uber! U-ber.” She sounded it out exaggeratedly the third time.
The doors to the bar opened and the exceptionally drunk Grace staggered to the side and pulled out her phone to call her transportation home. She was nearly blinded by the bright screen and leaned back on the wall next to the door while she navigated the app. This took longer than it should’ve, and she started to doze off while she waited for the driver.
“Dey better has som’ting in their backseat,” she said aloud to the empty night, producing a small burp soon after. She looked at each and every car go by, the headlights were hypnotizing. The movement of the cars in the intersection was just as enchanting to her, and their colors. They went black, then red, white, gray, dark gray, black, red. Her eyes very soon shifted to the traffic lights blinking from green to yellow to red, green to yellow to red. Green to yellow to red. She started to close her eyes, slowly dazing…
BEEEEP
Her eyes shot open when she heard the car horn and saw a red SUV outside of the bar. She was still leaning against the building, only a foot lower to the ground. She didn’t wonder how long she’d been out but only took notice of the driver popping his head out the window to her.
“You’re Grace?” he asked.
She nodded to the point where it made her dizzy, or more accurately dizzier than she already was. She tripped down off the curb, once again nearly falling before catching balance, into the lot and the guy’s car.
The inside of his vehicle was grimy, the interior appeared like it was a light color before dust and trash stained it gray and brown, and beige. Grace just sat down in the backseat, not noticing the greasy outline of a pizza slice on the seat, as the guy drove her home.
If she had any level of sobriety, she’d notice the driver didn’t say a word except for the sole two he asked. But she hummed or talked or nearly vomited the entire ride. God, that driving felt like a ship at sea in the middle of a typhoon. At nearly every traffic light she nearly threw up from her head rocking either from stopping or speeding up. This made the short trip nauseous yet interesting for Grace, in her current state.
As the car stopped for one last time, out front of her house, and one last near-hurl for Grace, she stumbled out and tripped once again. This time she did not manage to catch herself and fell face-first into the grass between the sidewalk and the road with her legs still in the driver’s car.
She pulled her legs out of the vehicle and pushed herself back onto her feet. It took a few more steps down the sidewalk for her to tumble onto the grass again, this time on her lawn. She was half-passed out for a few minutes, just caressing the grass. “Why?” was not a question that dared pass her mind. The only thought that crossed her mind afterward was to get up, which caused her to scarcely open her eyes.
“Uughh, but so tired…HIC,” she mumbled, before allowing her heavy eyes to close once more.
Get up. That was the only thing she thought, and she opened her eyes more to see the silhouette of a man on her porch. Wait, did she see that? She rubbed her eyes to double-check if she wasn’t seeing things, but no. It became clear that there was a man standing on her porch, and he stepped down to the sidewalk.
“Get up.”
That was him, he was telling her to get up. The shock of him even being there caused Grace to shoot up on instinct, standing still in the middle of her lawn. Relatively still, that is, she was still swaying like a reed in the wind.
“I’d like to have a word with you, Ms. Bennet, yet I would prefer it be inside.” He spoke carefully and quietly. Every word seemed like it was tactically selected. His voice was also heavily laden with a London accent.
At this, Grace attempted to step back onto the sidewalk and run, to where she didn’t think. Just get away from this mysterious person. However, this attempt was met with her tripping on a crevice between her lawn and the sidewalk, landing face-first onto the concrete. Blood started streaming from a cut on her forehead, but she didn’t get the chance to notice. She was unconscious, half from the alcohol and half from the fall on her driveway. This also made her unable to notice the man grab and drag her up the small hill, then inside her house. As he brought her in, he locked the door behind them. No one had seen or heard the event, from the Uber pulling up to the man taking her inside, everyone on her street was utterly unaware and asleep.