Starfall

Chapter 4 - Ben

The sound of boisterous laughter and frothy-mouthed slurs is comforting to me at this point. Especially after a long night like this one.

Trust me, I know I should be home right now, cooking up some pasta for my mother, making sure she's fed and cleaned up. But even if I were home, she'd refuse any help I'd offer anyways. Besides, she can take care of herself for one evening.

"What's the stare for, Benito?" Someone slaps my back firmly as they sit on the stool next to me, and when I turn I find it to be Julian. His bushy beard glistens in the tavern's light, showing just how many bottles of rum he's had tonight.

I wave him off and gesture for another malt cream.

"I hear Rose gotcha a new job, eh?" Julian says, his smile pulled by his thick haze of drunkenness. "You really are her favorite."

"And she's your favorite, huh?" I eye him, and his smile vanishes. "You think I don't see you watching her, you big creep?" This time I laugh, which sends him back into his loose, flurrying attitude.

"Every man that she has under her foot wants her," he says through a half-growl, half-laugh. "Every man, woman, and child in Culmes wants her!"

I shake my head and take a swig of my cream. "That's a bit far," I chuckle after swallowing hard. "Who knows, Julian, maybe one day you'll manage to get a shot with her."

He just snorts and stumbles off to another one of his friends, leaving me alone at the bar with my drink.

The clinking of glasses and chugging of alcohol fades into the background as my gaze loosens on the grain of the wood beneath my glass. My mind drifts off to things that remain far in my subconscious, but to my despair, the memories I don't want to remember are pulled to my surface. The emblem on my wrist burns with the same intense heat as it did all those years ago, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck prick upward. My stomach does a flip and my lungs contract, so I take the last long swig of my malt cream, and thankfully the uneasiness subsides.

"You're looking a bit green there, pal," the bartender says to me, leaning to the side and setting her hand on her frail, bony hip.

I sniff and shake my head. "I'm fine." Then I set two of the coins I received this morning on the bar. "Get me a bottle of rum, will you?"

She looks reluctant at first, but eventually nods and gets me what I ask for. When she sets the glass in front of me, she says, "A word of advice, Ben . . ."

Tiredly, I drag my gaze up to meet her eyes. Her wrinkled brow is creased in what looks like concern. After a moment, she reaches over the bar and touches my forearm gently.

". . . Leave this place. Get out of Culmes. I've heard Norin is a nice place for young men like you."

Grabbing the rum and straightening into a stand, I shake my head again. "Like I said, I'm fine. Besides, Norin's a long ways away. And I can't leave my Ma."

"Looks like you already have," she says, raising a testing eyebrow. As I start to turn, she says, "Your heart's already left this place, Ben. Maybe you should follow it."

Her words cause my feet to trip over themselves, and for a moment I think I'm falling, but I manage to catch myself. On my way out the door, I glance back at the old bartender in some kind of twisted wistfulness. She winks at me as I close the door behind me.

Maybe she's right. I need to get out of here.

But I don't know what I'd do with myself anywhere but here. All I've ever known is the Red Rose. The only skill I know how to utilize is how to turn into a cold-hearted killer. Secondhand killer, of course.