Bars

“Alright…” At this point, Wyatt is game to try anything to locate Carson, and the bars had been one of the first things he’d thought of, so he’s willing to try. If Carson had packed his bags, Wyatt’s not completely convinced they’ll find him at a bar, but it’s worth a try.

Getting back into the jeep, Wyatt tries to think of the bars in town. There were several.

The first one is across town, and there are people there, but no sign of Carson. Moving on, they get the same thing at two other locations. Though not having gone far, it takes long enough to drive that time is slipping away.

Wyatt sighs as they head back to the other side of town. “There’s one more to check…there’s one that’s open ad weird hours and I see specials all the time and people there at all hours instead of just at night. It’s worth looking.”

Upon arriving, Wyatt pulls up to the curb, noting that there are many cars around, just as he had thought. This was a popular stop for anyone who didn’t have to work during the day.

Wyatt wants to go in himself, but he knows better than to tell Misty that, so he relents before even asking her, and helps her out of the jeep. Getting to the door, he lets her in first and stays close behind her.

The room is noisy and smoke-filled. Loud music plays while men and women raise their voices, hollow laughter filling in the lulls.

A sweeping glance around the room finally reveals the one searched for. At first there is relief, then a wave of strong irritation for finding him here.

Carson sits on the barstool at the counter, just downing a shot of whiskey. Slamming the shotglass down, he raises a hand in the air, retrieving a cheer from the others who were sitting around him. Their boisterous behavior egging him on as he speaks with slurred animation. “Another round gone down! Another cheer for those with no fear!”

Hands bang on the counter and shouts erupt.

A woman sidles up behind Carson, putting her arms around him. He takes a swig of beer and throws her a glazed sidelong glance. “Can I help you, miss….missy?”

A whispered something in his ear makes his eyebrows raise and a dry laugh comes out. “Ha! You wish, don’t you now? Nope.” He shakes his head with over-emphasis. “I’m through with sheilas. Yep.” He switches to nodding vigorously. “They’re bad for the health.” He gestures with his hand, almost hitting the guy next to him, and reaches for another swig of beer.

Carson’s head is brought back around as the woman, who herself has had one too many, plants a kiss on his lips. Pulling away, Carson puts her in a headlock from the side, somehow managing to remain balanced on the stool. “Now I told ya…no more…sheilas who try it with me…” He grabs his beer bottle again to finish it off in several swallows. “…wind up dead, and then this heart of mine gets broke aaaallll over again.”

He lets the woman go and turns back around to wave to the bartender. “Set me up, Ted! I’m thirsty!”

Cheers rise up again along with his own and he leans over to the guy next to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Miscalculating the distance though, he slips off his seat, falling to the floor with a thud.

Laughter follows, his own face wearing a drunken grin as he tries to pick himself back up, but can’t quite get there. Another man reaches down to pull him up, setting him back on his chair. “A little tipsy, partner?”

“I’m not partner anybody’s,” Carson corrects backward. “I’m the loner on a walkabout! The lone Aussie without no one to hold him back or down him drag!”