Elvendude by Mark Shepherd Page B

that, but didn't ask.

    Yanni, his mother, came in to the living room. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a halter top, and held a large bottle of Valium.

    "Let's just have some meds and calm down, boys," Yanni said, yawning. "You don't have to get all upset over nothing, do you?"

    "Honey, we're having a talk. Do you mind?" Paul said, waving her away. Right now, a few of those Valiums looked pretty good to Daryl, but he was a little nervous about asking in front of his dad. He was just so damned unpredictable. He had no idea what his reaction would be.

    "Whatever you say, dear," Yanni said, shuffling out of the living room.

    When Yanni was gone, Paul said, "If you get thrown in jail, don't bother calling me. I won't come get you." He finished his drink and left the room. Moments later, Daryl heard the BMW start up.

    Great. I hope he wrecks it, Daryl thought, getting up to look for the bottle of Valium. He found it next to his parents' bed, where his mother was sound asleep. She'd spilled some of the yellow pills on the table, and at first glance it looked like a suicide attempt. But he knew it wasn't; this happened all the time.

    He scooped up three or so of the little pills, knowing it would take at least that many to kill this particular hangover. Normally he would have taken two, but today was a special occasion. Besides, he had a good reason to get good and loaded. Half his friends had just died. He grabbed a 7UP from the fridge, washed the five or so Valiums down, and started for the bathroom to get cleaned up.

    Halfway up the carpeted stairs, the universe dropped out from under him.

     

Chapter Five

    "Adam, what's wrong with you?" Jimmy said for the second time as Adam counted out the drawer from the first shift. Usually Adam's employer wouldn't hover over him while he tried to do his work, but today was an exception. Spence and Jimmy exchanged looks, which unnerved Adam even more.

    "Nothing, just a little tired, is all," Adam said, wanting to believe his own words. Jimmy shook his head, which for him might have had ten different meanings.

    The owner seldom showed up on a slow day like Monday, but today was unusual in that it wasn't slow. Adam thought Spence might have called him about the hour lunch he'd inadvertently taken when he went to see Moira, but wasn't sure. They tended to cover for each other when necessary, and calling the boss for any reason was not something Spence would normally do. But then, today had been anything but normal.

    Jimmy was nearly forty, but possessed the perpetual youthfulness of many Asians; tall and wiry, he sprinted about the bar at his usual frenetic pace, pouring drinks, making coffee, running the espresso machines. The register had run out of paper, but since it was close to ten anyway, he went ahead and zeed it.

    "I'm fine, really," Adam insisted, but a little of his annoyance slipped through his teeth. Something is wrong. I just don't know what it is.

    The missing time bothered him, more because Spence suffered, working a heavy bar alone for an hour, when he should have been there with him to help. As to the incident itself, he felt vaguely disturbed, but not alarmed.

    Now he had trouble counting money. As soon as he thought he'd counted a stack of fives, they were actually tens, and he had to start all over. Either the numbers blurred all by themselves or his eyes weren't working. On the fourth attempt, he managed to count all the bills.

    Then his steel allergies kicked in with a vengeance. The coins started getting warm, no, hot , so much that he had to lay them out on the shelf under the bar and count them with a pencil eraser. Adam had never bothered to tell Jimmy about his steel allergies, as it never seemed necessary. But now the boss gave him strange looks, which made him lose count.

    "You know, there is a flu going around," Jimmy said good-naturedly as he untwisted the espresso dispenser. "Working a job like this, I'd bet it'd be easy to pick up."

    Adam