Saturday Night

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Is that some kind of joke?”

“Is that?” Lenny’s voice adopted a tone of innocence.

When I looked back at her, she stopped walking and stood there staring at me, her one finger pressed against her lower lip. When I first met her, I thought her absent mindedness was an act. I learned fast I was wrong. Her oversized brown coat hung around her defensively married with a thick scarf of olive green. “You do know it’s like seventy degrees out, right?”

“There is a chill in the air.” She illustrated pulling her crocheted beanie over her ears.

My short sleeve shirt and holey blue jeans spoke their disagreement. I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked up at the sky and picked up the original topic. “Didn’t you just go Thursday night?”

“Well, yes…but…I didn’t know that Zoe wanted to go this weekend.” She dug into her purse and produced her phone. With a quick glance she dropped it carelessly back in. “She doesn’t go often, so when the opportunity arises, one cannot not go.”

“I was gonna see if the guys wanted to game. Thought maybe you and Bruce would want to join us.” I continued walking. I could feel her eyes narrow on the back of my head, but ignored the urge to look back at her. I saw my steps creep over the curve of sidewalk.

“Didn’t you do that Thursday?” Lenny’s small shoes clacked sharply against the sidewalk as she caught up and walked next to me. Her small legs took two steps for my one.

“Yes, but that was Werewolf this is D&D. I would like Bruce to be there. The game always flows easier and he keeps the game fun. The group likes having him there and they enjoy his characters. You could be a healer.” We turned right down my little walkway and stopped in front of my steps.

“Maybe another day. Bruce loves karaoke just as much as I do.” Lenny said shifting her purse on her shoulder.

“I will never understand your obsession.”

“You don’t have to, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come.”

“No. Memories keep me from going with you.”

“Are you this dramatic when you master your games?”

“My games are controlled and scripted and most importantly does not involve alcohol.” I felt a shiver crawl up my spine and shook it out through my fingertips. “I still cannot smell Redbull, without wanting to yack.”

“You don’t have to drink. Sam doesn’t. She just goes to sing and drinks Redbulls all night.”

“Seriously?” When I received a look of confusion, I changed the subject. “You coming in for tea?” I asked with my finger hovering above the dial pad. I lived in an apartment complex, one of many that lined the streets in narrow brown and gray boxes with white trim and bright red doors.

 “Yeah, but I cannot stay long. I must get ready for tonight. I don’t know what I am going to sing yet.”

I punched in my security code and pushed the door open. Lenny squeezed past me and I pulled on it hard to make sure it closed properly. If left open for longer than one minute an alarm would sound and irritate my neighbors, landlord, and local police. We continued down the dingy well-lit hall and up the back stairs. Once inside my apartment, Lenny peeled off her layers and folded them over the back of the couch. I went to the pocket-sized kitchen a started the hot water.

“Everyone from work is going to be there tonight.”

“Everyone except me.” I answered returning from the kitchen and taking a seat across from her.

“You act like it was a terrible night.”

“I would not categorize it as one of the most memorable.”

“You had fun.”

“Again, not my choice of category. I do not know how you subject yourself to it. Standing in front of all those people exposed.”

 “I believe singing brings people together.”

“So does a D&D session…and Dr. Pepper and late-night fast food orders.”

 “Bruce hates Dr. Pepper.”

“More for us then.”

“So, you are sure you won’t come tonight?”

I thought of three Saturdays prior. I allowed Lenny and Bruce to convince me to join them at the local dive bar, Twin Sisters, for karaoke. I vowed that I would not sing. A few beers later and a shot of tequila and Redbull, I stood on stage with Lenny to my right, a beer in my left hand, and a mic in the other. After a few rousing Queen renditions, we found ourselves on the patio, with full beers and clouds of smoke meandering around us. The constant cheers from the electronic boxing machine interrupted the laughter and raucous conversations. Beers slid from their vessels and blessed our feet, laps and friends alike. Everything went smoothly till someone suggested to innocent and gullible Lenny that I needed another shot.

What do you want? Would swish through my head whenever I thought of it since. That being the last thing I remember before I see the night in snapshots. Another shot. One more song. Sweet Caroline. Classic. Beer hitting the floor. Laughter. A bridge. I am almost positive I emptied my stomach over it. We made it to the park. Sprinklers and falling. Fairly sure that was where the bruises came from. Making it to my door with Lenny apologizing. Then waking with a lead filled head and a mouthful of sand. The next few days tested my fortitude and will to live.

In that moment, I could smell the Redbull. Feel my stomach lurch at the recollection. It must have shown on my face because Lenny’s eyes filled with concern and her hand sought my knee.

The kettle screamed.

I took Lenny’s hand and smiled at her. My next words left her staring after me as I went to retrieve the tea. “Maybe you can be our healer next week. I‘m never going out with you again.”