Rebirth

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had run into my old buddy Darren. There he was behind the counter at the Lucky Dollar corner store just off Elm St., that big cheesy 70's moustache which he's had since high school hiding the smile his eyes couldn't help but betray, staring at me over the cash register as my focus shifted away from the wall of different cigarette brands behind him and actually settled on him.
He had already recognized me and beat me to the punch.
"Hey Frank man, long time no see! Whats new." he said. His non-chalant manner could put anyone at ease, but didn't seem to be working on himself at this time. He was obviously excited to see me and the feeling was more than mutual.
"Darren man. It's been years how the hell are ya?" I said as I reached over the counter to shake his hand.
"What's that!" he said, grabbing my hand and jerking me off my feet and over the counter, throwing his arms around my shoulders in a man-hug more than ten years in the making.
"Good to see you man, you're lookin good." I gasped out as he squeezed the breath out of trying to squeeze back as best I could.
He looked a little older and a little heavier - no more than could be expected with the years we had behind us. He also appeared wiser, as if the years had added back some of the brain cells we had so willingly parted with years ago, but most notably he looked happy.
"You too, bro." He was checkin me out, lookin me up and down, and nodding his head, no doubt thinking the same as I was - that we were both lucky to be alive, but to be looking so good.....well we must have both been blessed.
"So what have you been up to. Heard you moved away for a few years." Darren continued.
"Yeah, I got out of here, went west on the rigs and did a few years living from hole to hole, roughneckin and up the stick. How about yourself, what have you been doing for the last couple of years?"
"Don't bring me down talkin about my life, man, I never even got outta dodge." but he said with that same smile hidden by 25 years of whiskers. I knew that look and nothing could bring this man down. He was genuinely happy.
We talked for a few more minutes, but didn't get to any real catching up before the closing time rush started. There is a universal law which states, "Anyone who lives in the general vacinity of the store will wait til the last half hour before they come in to get thier necessities for the following morning." Darren was too busy to talk during the rush so we made plans to meet up after he closed.
The local watering hole named Muggin's was a block away, and seemed like an appropriate place. This is where we had parted ways so many years ago. The bartender must have been new or from outta town, I didn't recognize him and didn't really feel like making any new friends till Darren showed up. Thankfully the place was empty.
My parents had stayed in town and had kept me informed on my old buddy when ever I had called them to touch base. Married with two kids, two daughters at that, and two jobs, living in a better part of town than he grew up in, volunteer fireman. Old people don't just give you the news, they have to try and make it gossipy, but they had never had any outrageous stories to tell about Darren. Not after I had left anyway.
I thought I was doing the right thing, gettin out of town getting a great job and starting what I thought was a good life.
Well it was a good life until I hurt my back trippin in pipe, and got addicted to pain killers while I was recouperating. After my savings ran out, I went back to work and I was such a mess on the pills I couldn't do my job, and couldn't seem to do much else besides the 'percs'. News about unreliable workers in the oil patch spreads faster crabs in a work camp, and I ended up black listed.
Now, eighteen years after leaving this tiny town I'm back again. Cleaned up, thanks to detox, for the most part anyway. I'll still have a few mugs of ale now and again, but nothing stronger. I'm looking for a fresh start, a new lease on life I guess, and where better to start than at home.
The door swings open and bangs it's way closed behind me. The air is suddenly electric and I don't even have to turn to know it's Darren but I do anyway. There's a look in his eyes and he shoots me a wink as he walks toward the bar.
"Damn, he looks happy." I mutter under my breath into my glass of draught as I eye-ball the news on the big screen.
"John J, what ever he's drinkin, (pointing at me) I'll have two." he says.
The bartender turns toward the draught taps and Darren looks over at me again. Even in this dimly lit cavernous space I can see how lucky he is and it makes me a bit jealous, but not in a bad way. We took different paths which had different outcomes and that can't be changed now, though I'm starting to think growing a big cheesy moustache might be the perfect way to start off my new life in my old home town.