2152 Resolutions

Meyer. Just Meyer is what I go by. I’ve spent the entire year trying to live up to the promise I made at the shrine in 2152. Like everyone in Shokertown, I headed over to the shrine at the New Year to pray and give thanks for the year before and hope for good things to come. The line last year wrapped around the corner from the temple entrance. The weather at the New Year was always sweltering. People were fanning themselves, but no one left the line.

When I finally reached the shrine, I clapped my hands and prayed. I wished for what I know my mother would have wanted before she died: That I would not flat on my back in some alley, my last sight on earth the smog-filled sky above me, while a gun held at my head moved me into the next life. I don’t know what moved me to pray for her wish. But I knew she was watching me. And I owed her. 

The gods had been good to me. The following year I found a room and a steady job with a shopkeeper who needed someone with enough muscle to dissuade some of her more light-fingered customers from trying anything in her shop. I started to put some money away and was able to keep a roof over my head without busting any heads. My old pals joked that I’d found religion and placed a bet that I’d be back with them within the year. But so far, so good. 

I’d made it to New Year’s Eve. I had coin in my pocket and for once, was happy to head over to Yuji’s bar near the harbor to have a couple of drinks before heading back to my room over the shop. After I settled in at the bar and took a couple of sips, I felt myself start to relax. Only 30 minutes before the New Year. I felt so good, I started telling Yuji about my good fortune.  

“And to think it was all due to the prayer at the shrine last year and my three resolutions,” I told Yuji. 

His pencil-thin mustache started to twitch.  

“Meyer, it had nothing to do with the gods,” he said.  

I looked at him, then swirled the synthetic alcohol in my glass and ignored him. The lights in the bar flickered. 

“The electricity has been wonky this week, what with the construction up near the tower, ignore it,” he said.  

“Trust me, Meyer, It wasn’t your mother watching over you and it wasn’t the gods. It was all you, man. What were your resolutions?” he asked.  

I checked behind me and over at the table against the wall. The bar was a hole in the wall that only 7 people could stand in soaking wet. The only other person here was old fisherman just in from the harbor. He sat hunched over the table, his head hanging low with a half-empty bottle in front of him. He was barely conscious. No one was going to overhear me.  

“Come on. What did you commit to doing last year?” he said, wiping a glass dry and setting it in a row of glasses on the counter behind him. The round black clock hanging on the wall behind him still had 15 minutes left on its face. A red seconds hand began another trip around. I hesitated. I hate to admit it, but I am superstitious.

“Committed to doing *this* year. 2153 isn’t over yet,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on…”  

“First I committed to stay away from alcohol,” I said.  

Yuji’s eyes locked onto my glass. 

“Real alcohol. This synth stuff is not likely to get me into situations that I would regret tomorrow,”  

“Ok, there’s one. Number two?” Yuji picked up another shotglass and began wiping it dry, the cloth squeaking on the glass.  

“I committed to stay well away from the Cat’s Eye casino.” Yuji nodded, he knew the riverboat casino permanently anchored further down the road at Shokertown’s Harbor. Most of his business came from the fisherman and the rest from the folks too down on their luck to afford another place to drink. 

“Most of my problems came from hanging out there. Or hanging out with people who hung out there. They used to be most of my gigs.”  

I finished my drink and set the glass down on the bar. The half-melted ice cubes shifted in the glass.  

Yuji finished another glass and set it behind him.  

“And the last?”  

“Don’t bad mouth the gods,” I said. Yuji stopped drying the glass for a moment. Then he burst out laughing.

“Come on, Meyer. You don’t believe that Ghost shrine shit, do you?” He put the final glass behind him on the counter. Twelve glasses lined up in rows of 3.  

At that moment there was a click and the electricity went out. The bar had no windows so I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. 

“Damnit,” Yuji said. “Give me a minute. It’s the fuse box. I’ll be right back.” 

“No, I’ve got it. Is it back near the door to the alley?” I asked. He didn’t respond. 

“Yuji, I can’t see your face man. Is it near the door to the alley?”  

Yuji chuckled,

“Sorry. Yes it is. Here’s a flashlight,” He turned on the flashlight and held it out, handle first. I grabbed it and aimed the faint circle of light to where I thought the hallway was.  

The bar’s narrow walls were fake wood paneling. A few fifteen steps down the hallway, I found the fuse box and yanked it open. Sure enough, all of the fuses were turned to off. I began to turn them back on, starting with the lights in the hallway, when I heard shattering glass. A drunken voice cried out and after a moment I heard the bar door slam shut. 

“Yuji?” I shouted. There was no response.  

I flipped the remaining fuses back on and rushed back to the bar.  The old fisherman was gone. Did he try something?  

I looked over to the bar. The glasses that had been neatly set in rows on the counter were lying in broken pieces. The mirror above them was wreathed in frost. Yuji stood with his back to me, looking at the broken glasses on the bar shelf. When I walked back to my stool, he looked up into the frost-edged mirror at my reflection. He exhaled slowly. A couple of barstools were knocked over on the floor. I picked them up and put them next to the bar.

“What happened?” I asked. 

“Shit if I know,” he said shakily. He picked up a hand broom, moved the trash can over to the back of the bar and sweeped the broken glass into the trash can.  

“Did the guy at the table try something?”  

“No. The glasses…broke behind me. He screamed and left so fast, he knocked down a couple of stools” he said.  

Yuji took down a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and poured three fingers worth into a glass. He held the bottle out to me.  

The clock above the bar still had two minutes left to the year. 

I backed up, holding up my hands. 

“Two minutes left to the year,” I said. Yuji nodded and tossed the drink back.  

“Take it easy, Yuji. I’m heading home,” I said.  

Yuji put the glass down and followed me to the door.  

“Happy New Year!” I said.  

Yuji gave me a weird look. 

“Happy New Year, Meyer. Stay committed, eh?” he said.  

“Of course,” I said.  

He shut the door and slammed the bolt shut behind me.  I looked up into the night sky. Fireworks began popping off in brilliant colors over Shokertown.  

“Happy New Year, Mom!” I whispered. I felt a cold breeze on my neck, unseasonably cold for this time of year.