He pushed open the door and entered the bar. The place was almost
deserted. The Blue Lagoon Tavern was located at the far end of town, so
it did not attract a trendy crowd, just the local old coots and your
normal suspicious looking characters. That suited him just fine; he
would blend right in. He shambled over to an empty booth and sank down
into the worn, shabby cushions. It had been a long walk from the
shopping district. He touched his coat pocket protectively, reassured
that the package was still there. He slid the cigarettes from the pocket
and dropped this on the table.
A worn and shabby waitress came over with a pad in her hand. “What’ll ya have, mister?” She asked with a suspicious stare.
He avoided eye contact and busied himself with lighting a cigarette. “Bring me a beer.”
When
she left, he grabbed a fistful of napkins from the dispenser and wiped
the sweat from his forehead. He thought about how he was going to
fence the necklace. He never thought he’d be back in his old
profession, but a man had to live, right? He’d spent over two years
locked up for burglary, and he had no desire to repeat the experience.
He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and swiped at his forehead
again. He willed his leg to stop shaking.
His beer
arrived, and he took a long swallow, sitting back as the liquid gushed
down his throat, burning all the way down. He nodded to the bartender
for a refill. After two more beers, he was relaxed and confident enough
to carry out his plan. He figured he would head over to Tony’s bar by
the docks and sell the thing to him. He didn’t much care how much he
got for it; all he wanted was to be free and clear of it by midnight.
He
paid for his beers and exited the bar, jamming his hands in the coat
pockets as a blast of cold air hit his face. He turned left and headed
towards the main avenue, where swarms of revelers were amassing in
groups, to start their Saturday night partying. His senses sharpened as
he walked amidst the crowd, on the lookout for pickpockets or cops. The
crowd started thinning as his walk brought him across the street from
Tony’s bar. The lights were dim at Tony’s; people went there to drink
and carry on their business in relative obscurity.
As he passed the alleyway just before the bar, he heard the bang of garbage cans being knocked over. He jumped.
Damn cats. His
nerves calmed and he continued walking. A mewling sound, like an
injured cat, reached his ears and he paused. He figured it had been
injured in a fight. He continued walking.
The sound came again, this time sounding suspiciously like the cry of an infant.
He
stopped and this time listened more intently. Yeah, it was definitely
the cry of a baby. He looked around; there was no one else in the
vicinity. He figured some young girl had dumped the infant hoping
someone would find it.
Not my problem, he thought, and continued on to his destination.
A
few steps from the entrance, he thought about it. It was a pretty cold
night and he wondered what would become of the baby if no one else
heard it.
For a moment he considered going back, but
then what would he do with it? He would not risk getting caught with
stolen goods for a baby.
This was the real world and terrible things happened all the time. It was about survival. His survival.
He shrugged his shoulders and entered Tony’s bar.
