Saving Max

Saving Max - Chapter 3

"Max! You came! Yay!"

Kelsi's face lit up like Max was a best friend she hadn't seen in months, not a co-worker she had only left behind a couple of hours ago. She gave him an enthusiastic hug without spilling her glass of beer or burning him with her half-smoked Tyger Lite.

"They're about to start!" Kelsi said.

She waved her beer in the direction of the small stage at the front of the room where emo-hipster boyfriend Brian and his bandmates were adjusting their instruments. Max couldn't discern that the Bog Toads had any particular style other than "dressed themselves by raiding a Goodwill clothing donation box." Brian was lanky and fuzzy-bearded and wore a grey herringbone driver's cap, green plaid shirt, and skinny maroon jeans. He caught Kelsi's eye, smiled shyly, then gave Max a nod of recognition before turning to confer with one of the band about some bit of musical preparation.

Junction was a small venue, dark and crowded. There were a few stools by the bar in the back; along the left wall were four small Formica-topped tables and cheap vinyl-backed chairs likely salvaged from a defunct diner. Most of the crowd of about a hundred people stood in small clusters on the bare concrete floor, talking, drinking, and laughing. A pall of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air.

"This will be such a great show!" said Kelsi. "I'm so glads you came. Do you need a beer?"

"I do," said Max. "But I'm okay for now."

"I'll buy you one," said Kelsi, turning toward the bar behind them.

"Really, Kels, that's okay," protested Max. But Kelsi had already signaled the bartender with a wave that he somehow saw, interpreted, and acted on instantly, despite the press of patrons trying to get his attention. He set down a bottle of Bobcat Pale, nodded to Kelsi and returned to the other end of the bar before Max could so much as get his hand into his pocket to grab his slender roll of bills, mostly ones and Abes.

Kelsi slapped his arm gently and shook her head. "It's on me. I'm so glad you came. I really appreciate it."

"Thanks, Kels." Max clinked his bottle against her glass and took a sip. The cold beer tasted good.

"I don't know if anyone else from work is coming. Jess couldn't make it, I know."

"Shame that," Max muttered.

"Jess is great!" said Kelsi, who thought everyone was great.

Having accepted her charity beer, Max wasn't going to argue the point. "Sure," he said. "We don't get along, that's all."

"Hm?" said Kelsi. She pursed her lips and cocked her head as if bewildered by the very idea of not getting along with someone. Which, to be sure, probably was an alien concept to her. "Well, I'm glads you're here! They're doing a brand new song tonight. Brian wrote it for me, can you believe it?"

"That's awesome," said Max.

"It is!" Kelsi dropped her cigarette and stubbed it out with her blue lace-fringed ankle boot. "I'm moving up front!" she announced.

Kelsi was halfway there before Max could reply. The crowd parted to make way for her like the Red Sea accommodating Moses, then closed behind her. She joined a group of what had to be her art school friends standing near the stage.

Max decided to stay put. He wasn't sure he wanted to be here. Smoky bars and crowds and bands were not his thing. He was usually happy staying in on a Friday night, or any night, watching TV or reading. He wasn't sure what impelled him to come out tonight. He had planned to bag it and go home after closing up at Moonbuckles. Maybe the confrontation with the dogs made him crave company and decide to be social for once. But in this claustrophobic little space he was fast getting over it.