Far and Beyond

The streetlights turned on all at once as Frank’s watch showed 18:00. The snow that started falling a while ago, fluffy and thick, had already started piling up. Frank felt lucky that he managed to reach his destination before the roads become inaccessible. Checking on his phone to make sure he was at the right place; he tried the bar’s door. It was locked, of course, but Frank had his ways around stubborn doors denying access to well-intended individuals as himself. Putting his hand on the knob, covering it with his coat’s sleeve, Frank whispered a few words. The door unlocked with a “clack”; Frank pushed it gently and it opened with a creaking sound.

As Frank stepped inside, he noticed the unusual mixture of coziness and abandonment the place was reeking of at the moment. At the left, the bar reminded him of the Stanley Hotel, where the Shining's circumstances, by Stephen King, took place. It seemed that only Lloyd, the ghostly bartender was not there to saturate the concept. A few tables and wooden seats were packing the space in front of the barstools, while a jukebox somewhere in the room was playing the Por Una Cabeza by Carlos Gardel. The place was lit, surrounded by a tasteless green tapestry, with half-emptied whiskey glasses on the tables, but not a soul within.

Frank peered around; the place looked like someone just left it in a hurry and forgot to put the “Back in five minutes” sign at the door. Firmly sure that someone would pop up from the bathroom at the edge of the room or from the side of the bar that looked like it housed a small storage compartment, Frank just stood there for a while. After realizing that nothing of the sort would happen, Frank told himself that it did not matter after all. He was used to weirdness by now, so maybe he should just seize the opportunity and have a drink; and in case anyone happened to appear, after all, he would cheerfully welcome them with a glass full of fine spirit. Browsing the selves, Frank laid eyes on a bottle of Balvenie Tun and thought that he was all by himself after all. There was no way he could compensate for such a distinct quality whiskey, especially since he was flirting with the idea of having at least half the bottle.

As he was pouring two fingers in a crystal glass, Frank felt like a child discovering a box full of old, well-preserved toys. Appreciating the fullness of the single malt’s taste, Frank took a good look at the room around him. His eyes stopped next to the stage where famous rock bands or most probably wasted, high society jerks, drunk like a fish, must have been using to demonstrate their lack of singing capabilities. There lied the jukebox in all its anachronistic marvel, steady guardian of a long-forgotten, most romantic era. With his glass in one hand, Frank put the other in his pocket to find some change, then he walked to pay his respects to the object that haunted his young, naïve, most innocent self. It did not take him long, so he put the nickel in the slot and pressed G6. The old Wurlitzer 2100 made a clacking racket and plucked the vinyl. Frank shook his head while the first notes of Long Cool Woman by The Hollies filled the room.

Moving his head to the rhythm, Frank remembered the old woman’s words. She had made a strong point of him getting to this place, first by promising him that he would find it powerful enough for his eccentric taste, and then by threatening to erase his memory if he happened to disobey her. Frank had no real choice but to agree with her terms, especially since she made it pretty clear that he would have to meet someone there, a girl, she said. Of course, the woman had not wasted words on why Frank would meet the girl or why, but still the man owed her for saving his life, and despite all the other things Frank Austin was, honorable was still one of them. Looking the bar up before starting his journey, Frank discovered that the whole facility as well as the neighboring buildings were part of an ancient sacrificial grounds cluster. That was enough for him to become extra intrigued and even drive the nearly one hundred and twenty miles from Columbia, with zero complaints. Now in the presence of what the man knew to be an Ancient Energy Nexus -or AEN, as they simply called it in his Theosophist community- Frank admitted to himself that he didn’t feel anything that would initially make him suspect the presence of Old Energy. However, he reminded himself that in his current weakened state, it would take a lot more than him strolling around the place for ten minutes, to locate its source. He sighed and decided that having shelter, a bottle of whiskey, and a collection of classic songs at his disposal was far better than he had imagined the situation would be.

Thinking about taking his time to enjoy his drink while he waited for a sign of divine intervention that would awaken his long-lost potency and even better knowing that the chances for this to happen were quite close to the sphere of impossibility, Frank headed towards the tables in the middle of the room. It wasn’t until he turned his head that he saw a strange man behind the bar, using a grey wool towel to shine a crystal glass, stopping to check it for stains from time to time. Frank blinked, looking at him like a teenager that was just caught cruising forbidden channels on his cable tv. Shit, he thought, Frank you moron, you forgot rule number one. Always watch your six.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Far and Beyond Bar. Allow me to say that we are most delighted for your exquisite presence.” The weird man’s head was slightly tilted and his smile made his dewlap seem bloated. His voice was raised so that Frank could hear him despite the jukebox playing behind him. Following his initial surprise, Frank walked carefully towards the man who could very well be the bartender -hopefully less ghostly than Lloyd supposedly was- and screened him, top to bottom. The man kept grinning at him, Frank thought that his characteristics looked like they were glued in position. Along with the white shirt, black trousers, and green suspenders, the scene was at the very least cringeworthy.

“Ehm, hi. Sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone else here.” Frank said, thinking that he needed to come up with a good explanation if -or better when- the man would ask him how he opened the locked door and let himself in.

“Sir, there is absolutely no reason for you to apologize. No reason at all. Oh dear, where are my manners? The name is Lou. Lou Wilfred, a pleasure, sir.” The man-made a small bow to Frank and went back to cleaning the glasses. Frank slowly pulled one of the stools and sat on it.

“Sure, Lou, the pleasure is all mine. Say, what is this place? The Wand?” Frank said the words purposefully avoiding saying his name to the guy.

“The Far and Beyond, sir. It’s why you are here, isn’t it? For the meet-up.”

“Say what now?”

“You are teasing me, sir, I can tell. Your friend is already here, he went to the bathroom right before you arrived.”

“My friend, you say?” Frank turned his head to the door at the far corner. A WC sign was mounted on it. Problem was that Frank wasn’t meeting anyone here today, so that could only mean one thing. He had been followed.

“Hey Lou, what do I owe you? I think I’ll get out for a walk.” Frank put his hands in his pockets and pulled out two twenties.

“It’s on the house sir, do not worry about it. I beg your pardon though, is it wise to be outside with this weather? After all, you are the guest of honor and I’m obliged to make your stay most comfortable.” Lou sounded sincere, but Frank was already on his way out. Reaching the front door, he pushed the handle but it remained firmly shut. Frank heard the bathroom’s door opening and then closing. The jukebox had stopped playing, there was total silence now.

“Leaving so soon? Without even saying hi?” a voice said from the same direction. A familiar voice that Frank could have never mistaken for someone else’s.

“Matt! Is this you?” Frank could barely believe his eyes. Leaving the door handle at peace, he stormed towards the stage and almost tripped over a microphone cable in his hurry to reach the boy. Matt hugged him, relieved he finally caught up with him.

“What took you so long?”, the boy asked, teasing him. Frank smiled and pointed to the table near them urging Matt to have a sit.

“Son, if I knew there was the slightest chance of meeting you here, I would have come to a lot earlier, and by that, I mean days.”

Matt nodded happily then turned to the bartender.

“Hey, Lou? Do you think you could help my friend and me with some refreshments?”, Matt said out loud, then turned to Frank “Lou makes an amazing Strawberry Limeade, you know.”

The bartender flexed while putting his thumbs on his suspenders.

“That I do, sir. I once won a prize for the best non-alcoholic beverage that even a toddler is allowed to drink. Of course, for you Mr. Austin I can make it a bit more stimulating.” He said, making a small bow, having Frank grin with approval.

“That would be delightful my friend, one for me then, and a dirty one for my friend,” Matt answered him, cheekily.

Lou got immediately busy with their orders while the two friends, who one would easily mistake as a father and his teenage son, began lively discussing.