The Good Old Days

The Good Old Days

          “So it’s agreed then. I’ll stay with you.”
          Manny blinked, adjusting to the light. It appeared he had missed the conversation yet again. This was happening a lot lately. He shuddered as a cold draught went up his blue towelling dressing gown; this all seemed very inappropriate.

          “You’re a diamond mate, knew I could count on you.” Barnaby announced, grinning to reveal his remaining teeth and scanning the room with his good eye. He was more muscular than Manny remembered and his frame seemed to fill the doorways.

          Manny cursed himself inwardly. He had been having these so called ‘black outs’ with alarming frequency of late, and always seemed to come to in situations to his detriment. He had moved since Barnaby had been in prison, and certainly didn’t remember giving him a forwarding address. He supposed that in a moment of madness, he must have done.

          Manny’s immaculate flat seemed increasingly contaminated with every mouthful of air Barnaby breathed. He watched the wanton destruction and tried not to let his chest constrict. He fought to remain calm.

          “I appreciate this Manny,” Barnaby gushed, “I can always fucking count on you. You’re a rock solid guy, you know that?”
“Well, to be honest Barnaby, I’ve been unwell, I don’t really recall-“
“-Flu was it? You look like shit.” He said in a voice that was more accusatory than sympathetic. “Well get dressed, we’re going out.”

          “I just told you, I’m ill.”
          “We’re all ill Manny,” Barnaby sighed philosophically. “Life is a sickness; you’re born and you die. Anytime you get is a fucking blessing, and I’ve just spent two years behind bars eating porridge and pissing in a bucket. Now put some fucking pants on, the quest of excessive drinking awaits.”

          The bar was dimly lit and sparsely populated, and it seemed to Manny it had a strange air of awkwardness about it. Something was alarming him that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he felt the strangest sensation that he might have been there before. He couldn’t remember how Barnaby had talked him into coming, and wondered if he had merely succumb through fear. Barnaby was not a man you wanted to be on the wrong side of, and Manny was not stupid enough to anger him. As usual Barnaby had no money, and so Manny got the drinks in as was expected of him.

          If Barnaby decided he wanted your company, disagreeing was a dangerous game. Even so, Manny scanned the bar for viable exits. His head was pounding and the sickness was creeping over his eyelids again. He wasn’t sure if it was safe for him to be this far from the house; a blackout was imminent. Barnaby hardly had his best interests at heart and would probably just leave him lying there. It suddenly occurred to Manny that Barnaby was not longer glued to his side, waiting for the alcohol to be served. Only one thing could distract Barnaby from a quest of destruction.

          A sudden burst of cackling laughter from the corner of the room violently cut the silence.
“Hello ladies, ain’t you a pack of prize turkeys! What are lovely creatures like yourselves doing in this joint unaccompanied? I feel it is my duty to warn you there are some fellas in here that are only after one thing.” He gave them the nearest look to endearing that he could muster. “So stick with me ladies, I’ll protect you.” The four hyenas chortled and guffawed appreciatively, sucking on the attention like morphine. All except one.

          Manny had not noticed the red-headed girl at first, and in actuality there where five women around the table; this one noticeably apart from the others.

          “We’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves thank you. Now piss off.”
          “Chill out Bernie, for fuck’s sake!” The fattest of the four spat out. “You’ll have to excuse her mate; I reckon she bats for the other side.” She gave Barnaby a look that more than suggested her interest in men. She was wearing a white tube top that was ready to give up and a mini skirt that had all but disappeared when she sat down. She stank of cheap perfume and desperation; Barnaby fancied himself to have a good chance with her.

          “Really?” Barnaby exclaimed, his interest in the red-head briefly resumed, his eyes flitting between the two of them. “Hey Manny, get over here.”

          Manny sidled up uncomfortably; he had hoped the women would have taken the heat off of him for a while longer, but it seemed Barnaby had designs on him being part of the process.

          “You want a drink, ladies?” They all murmured in agreement except the redhead, who was scowling sharply down at the carpet. Barnaby stared at Manny expectantly, then after a long silence exclaimed, “Shitting hell Manny, get these birds a drink! Sorry ladies. No manners; thinks he’s dead posh but these snobby twats know nothing about how to treat a lady.” Barnaby followed him up to the bar, the women whispering and giggling about him between them as soon as he had stood up.

          “Listen mate, I was thinking- If I get lucky tonight, could we use your bed?”
Manny stared back at him in amazement.
“It’s just the couch ain’t no place to take a lady.” He didn’t wait for a response; Barnaby never did. “Thanks mate. What did I say about you? Diamond!” He grinned his gappy smile and gave him a friendly smack on the back, knocking the wind out of him.

          “You see ladies, today is a very special occasion.” He declared loudly as he headed back to the table. “I’ve been out of town for quite some time, but now I’m back to stay.” He grinned at Manny. “This here’s my best mate, been with me through thick and thin, die for him I would. And him for me.”

          Manny tried not to look too alarmed at the veiled threat buried in that sentence. He toyed with the idea of making a run for freedom again, but the chances of him outrunning Barnaby were laughable, and he didn’t dare think about what he’d do when he caught him.

          “Come on Manny, cheer the fuck up, the boys are back in town! What’s wrong with you anyway? It’s boring when you’re like this! What’s happened to the quest for destruction? Lets do what we were born to do!”

          Manny didn’t know what this entailed, but it seemed to have a lot to do with alcohol and women. Barnaby took him to one side and attempted a subtle whisper.
“Come on, which one do you like the look of?”
“Barnaby, I just came out of this really heavy relationship-“
“Fucking hell I’m not telling you to marry one of them! Which one do you fancy? It’s that ginger one ain’t it?”
Manny left a fatal pause before response which Barnaby took as a confession.
“Fucking new it! She might be a dyke apparently though mate, but it’s certainly worth a bash.”
“What’s your name again love?” Barnaby shouted across.
“Her name’s Bernie.” Maureen, the tubby one announced. “And these here are Sharon and Adele.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you Maureen, how do you like your eggs in the morning? Because I was thinking fertilized!” Barnaby broke into raucous hysterics as did the Maureen.
“Ooh you’re a cheeky sod! Get a load of this one girls!” She wiped away an imaginary tear and looked over at Manny.
“Your friend keeps himself to himself don’t he! For a handsome bugger he don’t have much to say!”
“Don’t be rude Manz!” Barnaby warned, and pushed Manny closer to the girls. “You ain’t said a word. I think he’s been stunned into silence by your beauty ladies.”
This prompted a second guffaw from Maureen.
“Ooh you’re a bloody charmer you ain’t cha!”
“Nice to…nice to meet you ladies.” Manny offered softly, though possibly more to his feet than anyone else in the room.

          Barnaby fetched a stool and wedged it up against Bernie, then gestured for Manny to sit on it. He did so and gave Bernie a weak smile. She rolled her eyes and tried to shift away a little. The air was tense and Manny felt deeply uneasy. Maureen and Barnaby only had eyes for each other and were talking as if no one else was in the room. The other two girls were deep in conversation.

          Unusually for Barnaby, his assumption had been rather close to the mark; Manny did indeed think that Bernie was beautiful, if a little on the icy side. He sensed her annoyance and tried to appease her as best he could.
“I’m sorry about Barnaby.” He offered softly. “He tends to get a little…carried away.”
          Bernie looked at him, unsure whether to soften. He cut a rather lonely figure and Manny thought that maybe he could play on her sympathies. She too was bored and excluded, and decided to risk a conversation.
“I think he’s vile.” She stated.
“Sorry.” Said Manny humbly, suddenly very interested in his feet again.
“It’s not necessarily anything for you to be sorry for.” She said in her rather matter of fact tone. “Though I do have to wonder what sort of man would choose to be his friend.”
“With Barnaby, he picks his friends. You don’t really get much say in the matter.”
Bernie looked at him with confusion.
“Sounds like a bloody bully. Have many friends does he?”
“Just me. He’s been…away. For quite sometime, and it was to be honest quite a relief. I had other plans today. I was going to see a play.”
“Really?” she asked. For the first time, she smiled. Manny couldn’t help but notice the way the smile lit up her face and made her eyes dance. He fought very hard not to fall in love; Manny had a horrible habit of falling in love at first sight and it never ended happily.
“Yes. It’s an Ibsen play, ‘The Doll’s House’.”
“You’re kidding! Ibsen’s my favourite! I was in a production of “Hedda Garbler!” She smiled shyly “I played Hedda.”
“I bet you were amazing.” Manny replied, a little too tentatively.
She began to laugh.
“Oh it was silly. Just some silly little High school thing.”
Manny suddenly felt alarmingly brave.
“It doesn’t start for another half hour. I was thinking- no. We just met…sorry. I get carried away.”
“No, what were you going to say?” She was now slightly closer, only a few centimetres from his face.
“If it’s not too presumptuous of me…seeming as he’s your favourite, and I have this extra ticket…”
“Let’s go.” She said softly.
“What- really?” He couldn’t help the astonishment in his voice.
“Yes, really!” She giggled, “Now quickly before I change my mind!”
          Manny could not believe his luck. He could not believe that a day so awful could end so beautifully. He was sure Barnaby would not even remember he had been there- maybe he would’t remember where he lived! Could it ever be so perfect?
There and then, Bernie kissed him. There and then, he fell in love.
          “What the FUCK did I just see?!” The guy was bowling towards them and Manny found himself on the floor before he had registered that Bernie was no longer kissing him.
          “I can do what I like Darren. I’m a single woman.” Bernie said as calmly as she could manage.
          “Alright you pack of bastards who messed with my boy Manny?” Barnaby demanded, strolling out of the toilets still doing up his flies.
          It was then that Manny noticed that the bastard had indeed come in a pack; there were four of them, all shapes and sizes, all ready to kill. Had they been in the bar the whole time? The realisation slowly dawned.
“You were using me.” He muttered breathlessly, and then a little louder. “You were using me, weren’t you!” his head started to pound, he could feel the sickness churning round his stomach. He wasn’t well.
Bernie looked at him sheepishly.
“You seem like a really nice guy Manny. A really nice guy.” His eyelids began to sink. Any moment now. He could blackout any moment.
“Nice? Who the fuck you calling nice?!” Barnaby screeched.
“Stay out of this you fucking twat.” Darren shouted, and that was when the first punch was thrown.
          Manny woke up three hours later in police custody. Every inch of his body ached.

“Home sweet home.” Barnaby sang from the other side of the cell.
Manny was confused. Had they brought him here whilst he was blacked out? Would they lock up an unconscious man?! He nursed his blood soaked hands.
“You were fucking great out there man!” Yelled Barnaby manically, his good eye lit up in excitement. “The boys are fucking back! I knew you still had it in you! It was just like the good old days!”
          As Manny rubbed the back of his hands on his jacket, they wiped clean. Then in a wave of terror it hit him; none of this blood was his own.