Moose rose from his stool in Mother’s Saloon at last call and tossed four twenties on the bar, not knowing how much he owed and not caring. He strolled out the front door and onto Ocean Beach. He peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it in the sand, then lumbered toward the water in his shorts and sandals. Thirty feet from the shoreline, he laid down, inhaled the salty night air, and passed out.
He awoke at 9 a.m., lying on his side. From the corner of his eye, he caught a blurry glimpse of a little Japanese boy leaning over and staring at him. He closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
At two o’clock, his eyes shot open. Half his body felt hot, swollen, and tight. He staggered to his feet and grabbed his t-shirt, which was exactly where he had left it. He walked back into Mother’s and stared into a mirror. Half his face was baked lobster red. The other half was pale white.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
“Purple Rain” was playing. A drunk guy at a table behind him shouted, “If you don’t like Prince, then you don’t like to fuck!”
Moose motioned to the bartender. She looked over at him and winced. She walked over, set a shot of tequila and a beer in front of him, and said, “On me, hon.”
He looked to his right and saw a slender girl sitting a few stools down. She stared straight ahead, listening to something. Her head was covered with a tightly wrapped red and white bandanna with the knot tied at the crown of her forehead. A yellow flower rested just above her left ear.
She turned to him and said, “What happened?”
He noticed her discolored eyes.
“I fell asleep on the beach.”
“Does it hurt? I have some lotion.”
“I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself.”
Moose looked down at the tattoo on his left bicep. It was a pentagram with two points of the star facing up and a goat in the middle, all of which was inscribed inside two circles.
“I’m Moose.”
“Hi Moose. I’m Audrey. How did you wind up here?”
He told her about just getting out of the Army and going on a long road trip to sort things out. He figured he might wind up back home in Kansas City, but that could be dangerous. The girl he’d almost married was still there and fighting through a vicious divorce with his former best friend, who was still dealing drugs. He didn’t want any of that, and he wasn’t sure what he would do for honest work, either. Maybe get into law enforcement, or go back to school to study Philosophy. He said he still felt like a teenager because the Army had stunted his emotional growth.”
Audrey listened carefully, nursing her beer, seldom passing judgment or offering advice, mostly just listening. She never seemed bored.
After a while, Moose said, “Audrey, if you don’t mind me asking, who takes care of you?”
“Why would you ask me that?” she shot back. “I have a degree in computer programming from SDSU. I design and implement management applications for a local software company. I work out six days a week, and I don’t get wasted all the time like you probably do. I’m smart, and I have self-respect. I don’t take any government disability checks or financial aid, either. My disability isn’t a disability. And I only get high when I want to. Who takes care of you, Moose?”
“Well, the Army used to. It was awesome in a lot of ways, but I’ve kinda forgotten how to take care of myself.”
“So maybe it’s time for you to change that, Moose. You don’t really have a choice anyway. But I don’t think things are as bad as you think. If you ask me, you’re a decent guy. You’re not a jerk, and I’ve met plenty of jerks. You can make a good life for yourself with a little focus and discipline. You just need to keep a positive attitude and create a healthy environment for yourself. I’m pretty sure you can manage that. It’s up to you.”
They sat quietly for a while, comfortable in shared silence. Then Audrey drummed her fingers on the bar and hummed a little tune that Moose had never heard before. “Let’s take a walk on the beach,” she said. “The waves sound perfect today.”
Moose’s face flushed into one uniform color. “That sounds fantastic. Let’s get back into the sun.”
