Oliver Ausman Lives Again

twenty two

this chapter is dedicated to paranatellon ! thank you so so much for reading and all your wonderful comments :')

Jingle's isn't the most inviting building, but I guess any bar open before eight AM is bound to be shady looking. Its plain, red brick exterior has a single window, which is decorated inside with neon signs advertising different beers. The green awning over our heads is dingy and worn out, matching the dirty concrete of the entrance.

I try to ignore the gut feeling I'm having, which is telling me it's about time to give up and go home. Instead, I reach for the rusty door handle, reminding myself why I'm here. For all I know, my father could be on the other side of the door right now.

"Uh," Kat interrupts, placing a hand on my sleeve, "Hello?" She gestures to Charlie.

I shrug and feign ignorance, even though I get what she means. "What?"

She tilts her head, widening her eyes. "You can't seriously be about to bring an eight-year-old into a dive bar."

"I'm almost nine," he offers.

I glance through the window, scoping the place out. As I imagined, it's almost completely empty inside. "There's only like, three people in there."

"You sure you don't want us to wait out here?" she asks, glancing at Charlie, who seems indifferent.

Logically, I should say yes. But if I'm being honest, I'm too uneasy to go in there by myself. Plus, I promised myself that I wouldn't let Charlie out of my sight again. 

"He's... mature for his age. It'll be fine," I defend my choice, turning to Charlie. "Unless you plan to start chugging someone's beer, I think it's okay."

He giggles. "No!"

I raise a shoulder and look at Kat, as if asking how she could argue. She shakes her head, a smile on her lips as I open the door. The three of us head inside, the few patrons glancing briefly at us before returning their attention to their beers. There are two younger guys sitting at the bar together and one burly older guy at a table towards the back. Behind the counter is a middle-aged blonde woman, whose eyes don't leave us.

I approach the counter, trying not to look as jittery as I feel. Lester's suspicious attitude left me with a lot of questions and even more nerves.

"Can I help you?" she greets, her voice filled with a rasp and a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Um, yeah. I was hoping you might know where I can find Isaac Ausman?"

Her eyebrows furrow as she looks me over, then Charlie and Kat. "Who's asking?"

"I'm Oliver." I almost reach for a handshake, but her hands are busy wiping down the counter with a dirty looking rag. "I'm his son."

"Isaac never mentioned he had a son."