*****
Lost in the Ruby
Now, Anna Louise was a plain-looking girl, but nice enough all the same. She made a man think of mother or sister and left his loins at rest. She had mouse-brown hair and mouse-bright eyes and a pale and plump little face. Yes, Anna Louise was a good girl for a girl growing up in a bar—Sam Rosen's bar; her daddy's place, that was.
Her mama had died young of delight and dreamstuff and left Sam a widower with a girl child to raise. Sam did his best by Anna Louise, when he remembered he had a daughter. He fed her on beer and eggs and the little fried snacks from the bar. He dressed her in whatever clothes he could find, sometimes new and sometimes patched. And me, I stayed around to watch the child grow, to keep a promise I'd made to a woman long dust. I’d loved a mortal woman once, and I’d paid the price down all the long time since.
It was a summer night, hot and wet, a night made for joining flesh together. The sweat beaded on my temples. My shirt was wet at the back. Sam sat alone at a table for two while his daughter tended the bar. Sam had loved his one child's mother and lost her in her prime. She'd wanted pleasures beyond his giving. She'd wanted paradise in a powder, heaven in a packet of pills. I took another gulp of fast-warming ale and glanced down at the ring I wore. The ruby flashed dark as blood, burning with souls imprisoned. The ring was my heart and the seat of my power, a place of bloody darkness, a pretty jewel.
The man nearest me stirred, suddenly uneasy. I looked away from the stone and covered it with my other hand, but still he shook his head as if remembering things he’d rather forget. He threw a coin on the counter as he slid off his stool and left. I waved a hand to Anna Louise, and the girl brought me another stein. I accepted it with a smile and a nod.
So, here was Anna Louise, seventeen and plain but pleasant, when Big Jim O'Dade walked into the bar. Now, Jim, he was tall, and he was handsome. He had black hair and blue eyes and a smile like lightning. He saw Anna Louise behind the bar, and Jim went to her for a drink. He flashed his smile, and the power flickered out like a storm on the horizon.
I saw Anna Louise catch her breath, as if she'd just woken from a dream. Her cheeks took on color, and her eyes took on shine. She poured him the shot of whiskey he asked for and set it out before him. I waited for Big Jim to see her, to realize what a treasure he'd found; but Jim was used to women and their favors. He threw back his drink and paid up quick. Then, he smiled once more at Anna Louise and turned his back to the bar. He leaned back on his elbows and surveyed the room while Anna Louise stared at the way his shirt strained across his shoulders. Her breathing was quick and light.
I saw Sam start to get up; and then he sat down again, as if he just didn't care anymore. He knew Big Jim and knew Jim was no kind of a man for his daughter. But Sam had died when his wife died. What was left of him wasn't enough to protect Anna Louise from her folly. I started to leave her alone, as Sam did; but I remembered what I owed, though Anna Louise didn't know of the debt. Tonight, for a moment, I'd speak as her father.
I waved my empty stein at the girl, as soon as I thought she could see me. She came quickly enough. She was Sam's daughter after all, and knew to keep the glasses filled.
"Another round, girl," I said, and I caught her hand for a moment. Anna Louise had known me from her cradle-time, and she allowed me the liberty then. "Don't give your heart to Big Jim," I warned her. "He already owns more than he can count."
Anna Louise tossed her head and frowned at me and pulled her hand away. She sat the fresh stein down without spilling a drop.
"Says you, Nate Lee. What do you know about love, anyway? I never see you with a woman. Nor with a man either, as yet. You live wild as a cat and just come here to feed and lick your fur, and then you go your way. Who are you to judge? And how do you know his name?"
"I know more about love than you'll learn in your lifetime," I said, remembering the woman who was dust. The old pain was still there; the ruby still sparkled, like an ember that burned my hand. I set memories aside and continued. "And I've seen Big Jim's kind before. Whatever you give him, he'll take it for granted. He'll think it's only his due. As for his name, I shipped with his daddy, Big Jack O'Dade, a man from too many places to count."
Anna Louise slapped her rag on the bar and tossed her head again. "Oh, you! You aren't that old, for all your talk and crazy tales. You look younger than my father."
It struck me then that I'd made a mistake; I’d forgotten to age as time went by. So I kept silent and let the impertinence slide by. No one pays attention to what can't be true. It disappears like a sound unheard, if you just let the silence remain. Anna Louise left me and went along the bar to Big Jim. She walked with a sway to her hips and a lift to her breasts, this girl so suddenly woman. Again, I touched the red jewel I wore on my finger and sipped my beer as I watched.
Sam got up from his table and left without looking again at his daughter. He went through the door in the back that led to his rooms up above. He'd lived there with his wife for a time and, then, with Anna Louise. After tonight, I thought, he'd be living there alone.
Anna Louise was all smiles and sighs for Big Jim. She filled his glass a dozen times that night, whether he asked for it or no, and never charged him a cent. Jim threw it back, and his smile got broader, until I had to squint to look at him. I saw what was happening and didn't like it at all. I'd watched Anna Louise grow up and wanted better for her; but no one can unmake a young girl's first choice, once she gives her heart. I could only watch and hope the fall would be short and the landing soft. Come closing time, there was only Anna Louise, Big Jim, and me in the place. They didn't see me. I was at Sam's table by then, with the shadows wrapped close around me, and Anna Louise never looked at my face.
Anna Louise shut the cash drawer with a bang, without even counting the take. She came around the bar to where Big Jim swayed, and stood close to him and clung. Now, Jim was drunk but not dead, not yet. He noticed little Anna Louise at last as she sparkled and twinkled and murmured. He put his arm around her, and they left the bar together.