Black Pariah _Chapter Ten_

Gerard hung up the phone and stared at it. Now what?
He felt his pocket to make sure the fold of bills and small coins were still there, he hadn't checked in his headlong flight to find the nearest phone.

He turned and made his way to the greasy bar and hoisted himself up onto the stained red plush barstool.
"Bottle of bud and a JD " he told the indifferent bartender,sliding two folded bills across the bar,and tucking the rest of the meagre fold back into his jeans pocket.  
May as well wait, see if he phones.


Frank was frantic, he felt like he was going crazy with anger, worry, frustration and grief - all underscored by guilt.
why the hell hadn't they heard from him by now?
Why hadn't anyone found him? -he and the guys had had everyone they knew keeping an eye open for Gerard and all this time nothing.
Then, just when he began to believe as the others did, that he was dead after all, right out the blue - a phone call, from some bar in a city he couldn't remember if they'd ever been to, if they had he couldn't remember it.

What made him come here of all the bloody places? He thought, impatiently waiting to clear airport security.

The bar looked derelict ,this whole damm place could use a bulldozer Frank approached quickly whilst breathing deeply, trying to brace himself for seeing HIM again in god only knows who knew what state.

Full of anxious trepidation he pushed the door open, the dust flying up to swirl and dance in the pale shaft of light he'd created by opening the door, his eyes adjusting to the gloomy interior and whoa! what is that stink? he thought, before quickly deciding than maybe ignorance maybe was bliss after all.
The place was empty but for a tired overweight bar guy talking loudly about the sports game playing loudly on the old tv set perched at the end of the bar ,to an old hunched drunk ,franks heart leapt into his throat ,please NO! that can't be him? Please? he almost cried out in denial his throat parched and he tried to swallow past the lump lodged there,all Frank could see was the back of a shapeless stained brown jacket and a gnarled hand clutching the glass filled with pale yellow ,frank stepped forward making the bar guy look up ,then seeing a stranger, he pursed his mouth and jerked his head to indicate Frank should go to the side, his manner obviously displeased but unsurprised.

Frank turned to the row of 3 or 4 booths set at the back of the wall on his right, and there in the first one ,level with a old dusty jukebox was Gerard.

He had his head nestled in the crook of his elbow, filthy black hair spilling onto the none too clean table, five or six empty glasses and a half full one set before him, his other hand spinning a quarter in shaky circles on the wet surface.
Frank slid in to sit opposite reached out and touched his elbow lightly "Gerard?"


I look up and there he is, my Frankie, my angel, my sanity...........my hope.
"hal-lo ang-el, tell me.....what song should I play Frankie babe? it's the encore ,the final curtain call, what's a good song then, eh?" he slurred, half  singing in an awful coarse thick voice, angry and half passed out already.

He looks as beautiful as ever ,the years have been kind to him , he'll sort this out ,he'll make it stop it's all gunna be ok ,no ones dead, it's all fine, and then.... aah... here comes the black, the abyss to swallow me whole, can it please end this time? .........i want my parade now.