ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 21

ACHIM

When the bat-wing doors were pushed open, Achim, Naomi, and Brielle entered a dim hallow steeped in degraded décor. The hot room was tight in size and congested with incense that burned the nose. Lanterns above sprinkled dots of light amid the haze, but the sweaty patrons were content enough with cool songs of blues pouring out of a nearby jukebox. A stained bar counter sat at the center of the saloon and rows of booths were packed against the walls. People corralled wherever they could , leaving the three children before an impenetrable mesh of bodies.

"The Slum Slug's Saloon. As filthy as I remember," groaned Achim.  The dark looked at Naomi and Brielle. This realm of drunken-ravings and aged rum stupefied both of his companions, forcing Achim to push both of them through the drunken maze. "Alright, enough starring. We have a job to do."

"Oh yeah," said Naomi. Achim watched as she shed her demure. She then grabbed Brielle and powered through the crowd, sweeping bottles and trash across the floor with her shimmying feet. "Let's go find a table."

Achim was on the verge of stopping the sun-kissed girl, but he was immediately stopped by a passing child no older than ten. The kid scooped up the refuse as they flew across the molding floor before tossing it into a large bin. The kid came and went so quickly that Achim did not notice a second person in the shadow of the first. It was a girl roughly the same age as Achim. Maybe older.

"We ask that you and your party not kick any trash around more than necessary, bottles in particular. It could cause an accident," said the waiter girl. "...or a really bad fight."

"Sorry," Achim replied. He just barely recalled her face from his first visit.

"Are you three even old enough to be here," said the young waitress. Achim thought of Naomi and Brielle and almost choked. At fifteen, he figured he was the oldest. He definitely looked and acted as such. Alas, the waiter girl smiled before his discomfort. "It's a joke," she teased.  "I remember you from a few days ago. Welcome back," said the waiter girl. Shen then pressed a thick sheet of wood against Achim's chest and winked. "I'm sure you'll be needing this for you and your girlfriends."

"They're not my"--

"Good," said the young waitress. "You and your friends-that-are-girls can sit at any free booth you can find. Though I think the short one already found a spot."

"Achim! Over here," Naomi shouted. Having found a seat freshly abandoned by a previous party, Naomi waved both hands high as her voice shook the tavern walls.

Achim saw the way she turned heads and immediately face palmed. "Naomi," he griped.

"She's not from around here, is she," said the inquiring waiter. Achim's expression must have been all she needed, because the waiter did not press the issue after glancing at him. She only laughed. "She's cute, for a friend."

"She's annoying," said the grumbling boy.

The waiter girl shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, go to the bar when you are ready to order and grandpa will send your request to the kitchen."

"Thanks," said Achim.

"Don't thank me. Just come back a third time okay? You can even bring your friends-who-are-girls, though do it in the morning when things are quieter. It'll be safer." Achim nodded, his eyes avoiding direct contact with the waiter girl. She did not seem to mind though. "If you do come back, your next order is on me. Promise." The young waitress drifted off after that, leaving Achim just curious enough to give the girl a long lock.

"Achim! Are you listening to me," Naomi said from across the saloon.

Her voice was like steel-on-steel; inherently agitating. Achim scowled at Naomi as he approached their table, trying not to look back at those that watched him walk to their unique group. Before Achim sat down, he spoke to the sun-kissed girl with simmering words. "Naomi, why must you absolutely insist on bringing attention to yourself?"