"Garcon, you got my business for the coming financial year.
O'Looney replaced the bat behind the bar and said, "Good customers are hard to find."
"That's the truth," Top Shelf said, "An those two sluggers ain't got no regular income."
"I never heard of a combination bar and religious mission," Neil said.
"The Bar Room bishop looks for quality reprobates and wrongdoers. Here on the water front we the best there is," Top Shelf said. "And we got quantity too."
"Real sinners don't want to go to just any church," O'Looney explained. "Too many good people make them feel uncomfortable."
"The barroom Bishop brings the Church to us," Top Shelf said.
"Why," O'Looney asked Neil, "did you come from the cool up-state to this hell hole in the middle of summer?"
"The union pulled my electrician's card. The main office is here. Neil lifted the shot glass with both hands saying, "I was the youngest Master electrician in Madison County. Learned the trade from my Dad." He up ended the drink and finished it in one swallow, opened his mouth to speak but collapsed. O'Looney now behind the bar reached over with one hand grabbed Neil's jacket front and held him up telling Top shelf, "Shove that stool under him."
"That booze really hammered him," Top shelf said, and pushed the stool forward.
"He's light as a feather," O'Looney said releasing his grip.
Top Shelf massaged the back of Neil's neck, "My brain must be pickled. I brought him here for something to eat. Watcha' got on the menu?"
With the aplomb of a Park Avenue headwaiter, O'Looney draped a bar rag over his forearm and pointed to the bottle lined shelves, "I got wines and cordials to accompany red or white meat, fish or soufflés."
"Whatcha' got for us to wrap our teeth around?"
"Hot dogs!"
"Give us two."
"Mustard?"
"An lots a kraut."
O'Looney pulled two steaming foot long frankfurters from under the bar, set them in buns swabbing mustard and piling sauerkraut on.
"Neil raised his head and looked at the food, "We really going to eat?"
"Get ready to gluttonize!" Top shelf said.
"Doe he have hot pepper?" Neil asked. "I like hot pepper."
"Best thing for what ails you," O'looney said and scattered red pepper flakes over the sauerkraut. "This stuff will put hair on Dolly Parton's chest."
"Tell us where you're from and where you been?" O'Looney asked.
"With his mouth full, Neil said, "Lived in Hamilton, New York. Got out of the Upstate Veteran's Hospital a while ago."
"What was wrong with you?" Top Shelf asked.
"Temporary insanity."
"How long was temporary?" O'Looney asked.
"A year."
"Forgot to say bon-appetite!" Top Shelf smiled.
"This is great," Neil said. "What month is this?"
"Middle of August," O'Looney said.
"Vets Hospital discharged me in April. Came down here to get my union card back. They said I had to go into a rehab program. Stayed in a hotel till the money ran out. Sold my clothes and everything but my guitar."
"I play guitar," Top Shelf said. "Had my own band. When I leave the street, going to get the old band together again." He pulled out the two soup spoons and tapped a familiar melody with them. "I played on the radio for a long time. Folks thought I was white. That's when I learned to speak the Caucasian variation of the English language, avoiding vulgarities, while inserting upper class clichés and idioms. It's called Talking White."
O'looney poured each man another drink, "This one is on the house."
Top shelf raised his glass, "Here's to the Barroom Bishop. When O'Looney buys the angels cry."
"You really play guitar?" O'Looney asked Neil
"My wife taught me."
"I'll teach you finger picking," Top shelf said. "That way you can impress the Missus."
"I want to sleep without dreaming." He raised his shot glass, " this maybe I can sleep."
Top Shelf raised his glass again, "A toast."
"Two toasts on the same drink is bad luck," O'Looney said.
"Are you buying us another drink?" Top Shelf asked.
"No!"
"Then here's a toast to the riddance of fairies and phantoms what sneak into our brains at night when we ain't watchin'!"
The three men clicked glasses and drank. O'Looney collected the glasses, swabbed the bar clean and started pushing the cart, "See you sinners tomorrow at the Mission."
Neil followed Top Shelf to the end of the pier where he pointed at Doc and Conductor sleeping and the empty cardboard box. "Deacon's gone"
"He wanders off now and then. Listen to the river." The two men stood quietly in the waning sun. "Makes a whispering sound," Neil said. "Something like the stream behind our house."
"You had a house and your own private river?" Top Shelf asked.
"A stream," Neil said. "Cathy and I used to wade with the kids and shoot the rapids on air mattresses. In the fall we sailed red and gold oak leaves." He covered his face with his hands and wept, "Oh God! Oh dear God!" Top Shelf reached out to him but Neil pulled away and curled up in Deacon's box.. A passing tug boat sounded a mournful whistle. And Top Shelf whispered, "You sleep kid."
Deacon returned as the sun set behind New York's skyline. Top Shelf stopped him from pulling the younger man out his box. "We got to help him."
"Sweet Jesus said, helping him, is like raising the dead."
"We gotta' find out what's killing him," Top Shelf said. "Maybe if we tell him about ourselves he'll open up.
"Sweet, sweet Jesus!"
The sky darkened, the lights of New York's skyscrapers reflected like millions of diamonds, rubies and pearls off the river.
Suddenly, Neil sat bolt upright in the cardboard box shouting, "Jeff! Michelle! Is that you Cathy?" He struggled to free his hands caught inside the box. His shouts woke everyone. "Cathy the kids are back!" He struggled with his arms caught inside the box shouting, "I don't need a straight jacket!" He broke free and jumped up swinging his fists. Deacon easily side stepped Neil's flailing arms and pinned them from behind in a grip of steel. He whispered in Neil's ear, "Sweet Jesus don't fight. It takes time to see the light."
"What's all the noise?" Doc asked.
"Bad dreams," Top Shelf pointed at Neil, "If Deacon lets you go you going to behave?"
"I'm alright," Neil said.
At a nod form Top Shelf, Deacon released his grip and took his seat in the throne.
Top Shelf went over to the edge of the pier and urinated.
"What you doin'?' Conductor asked.
"Changing the name of this waterway," Top Shelf said. "From now on we call it the Yellow River."
"Chinese already got a Yellow River," Doc said. "That's cause so many Chinamen pissed in it."
"Then I get us more wine an' we can name it the Deep Purple!"
"That's a plan!" Conductor said.!"
Doc pointed to Neil, "Is this child crazy like Deacon?"
"They stopped diagnosin' me," Conductor said.
"I'm finished being crazy," Neil said.
"That's cause you were temporary," Top Shelf said. "Stay wit' us and you become full time nuts." Top Shelf buttoned his trousers and stepped back, "Ain't got time for banter talk. It's Saturday night. We got to hustle some money in the Park."
"Maybe we get enough for another gallon jug?" Conductor said.
"Come on!" Top Shelf said and led the straggling group off the pier singing "Wine wine wine red cherry, Wine wine, wine …" Deacon brought up the rear dragging his box.
In the park, Top Shelf pulled Neil forward and they peered through the bushes at the square, "Kid, you the scout!"
Scout for what?"
"Ya see that little booth by the statue of Charlie Chaplin." Top Shelf asked.
"Yeah," Neil said. "People are lined up there."
"They buyin' discount theater tickets. When they leave the booth they have change in their hand. We goin
g to try and hustle some money from them."
"What am I looking for?" Neil asked.
Conductor butted in, "You scoutin' for Sharkey and Hoey. Them big suckers cruise this area Saturday nights."
"How come he ain't looking for Donkey Ryan?" Doc asked.
"This is getting complicated," Neil said. "Who is Donkey Ryan?"
"The biggest, baddest cop in New York," Top Shelf said. "But him and Sharkey don't know you," He pushed Neil toward the square, "Go see what you see."
"How come you make him the scout?" Conductor asked.
"Deacon an' me got a plan to get the kid off the street."
"Sweet Jesus, He ain't one of us," Deacon said.
"Not yet he ain't," Doc said. "Did you see how he looked at the whores on the way here? He still got the sexual urge."
"Sweet, Sweet Jesus!" Deacon sang.
"Yeah Deacon," Conductor said, "you remember the sexual urge!"
"The kid ain't ali-o-non-o-mus like us," Doc said. "He still usin' his real name."
"Sweet Jesus!"
"He ain't him," Doc said."What's the plan?"
"Two part plan," Top Shelf said.
"Sounds strategic," Conductor whispered.
"First we get some money," Top Shelf said,
"Good!" doc said.
"Then we get some wine!"
"Better!" Conductor said.
"Then we tell him about ourselves!"
."Bullshit!" Conductor said.
"How come?" Doc asked.
"Then he got to tell about hisself and we find out what's killin' him." Top Shelf said.
"I got enough trouble stayin' alive," Conductor grumbled.
"How come we savin' him?" Doc asked.
"Sweet Jesus!" Deacon cried.
"There's your answer," Top Shelf pointed down at Deacon. "Now get your instruments. Conductor went to a trash bin and searched until he found two empty soda bottles. He blew over the tops testing the sounds. Doc pulled rusted kazoo from his pocket and Deacon slapped the side of his box like a drum. Neil returned saying, "There's lots of people sitting