Tequila Dreams

Suspense Stories | Jun 10, 2013 | 6 min read
40 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
"So I was a big waste of time," Liam sneered, standing at the end of the block starring up at a red neon sign reading Tequila Dreams. A small martini glass below it bleeped on and off. "I should her who was the real waste of time," he added, grimly.

He'd skulked and scuffed to and from her apartment building in east Manhattan lots, but had never realized the sign above an old front door and cracked window before. He did now. He hopped up the small oval cement steps, pushed his way inside.

An odd quiet gloom immediately hugged him in the form of lone red neon bar lights. Nobody seemed around as he scanned the room, the rest of it masked in darkness. He carefully toed up to the bar.

"Who's around?" he asked, loudly. He then slapped a hand on the solid oak- counter. "The sign outside says—"

"Open all night, sir," a joyful dry voice said. "We're open all night here, I assure you." Liam snapped his head back to the bar. A short balled bearded stocky man in a Jeeves getup mildly grinned. He oddly resembled the incomparable Donald Pleasance from Halloween.

"Welcome to tequila dreams," he added, and held out his arms. "Where dreams come true!" Liam leaned back, eyed the man narrowly.

"Who are you?"

"Just call me… Jeeves," the man said, after a thoughtful pause. Liam's eyes narrowed more.

"And what would you have here, for a stiff drink, Jeeves?" he asked, timidly. "Something as solid as a rock, I hope." Jeeves stroked his bearded chin.

"Only one poison around here like that," he said, finally. "And as a matter of fact, sir, it's my specialty. I call it sub-conscious…"

"Apposed to unconscious, right?" Liam mused.

"If you dare say," Jeeves cringed. "I, on the other hand… would not. I have nothing here that would do such a thing. It's made up of merely the foundation of your soul, my good man. How could such a thing be so wrong?" Liam leaned back again. His smirk left him.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, dear young man. Don't you know… there is nothing to fear… but fear itself?"

"Whatever, man," Liam said. "I've had the worst night of my life tonight; just put me unconscious, ok good buddy?"

Jeeves—almost without thought—poured him a shot of something dark, slid it over.

"Okay, what's in that?"

"Why, a little part of you, sir," Jeeves replied with a grin. "And why, instead of honouring me about your bad night, why not humour me… on, let's say, the best three things that has ever happened to you in your life? A shot for each tale?" Liam paused, thought about it.

"A nun, rabbi and a rooster walk into a bar," he started. Jeeves' stare remained still, face expressionless—clearly unamused.

"All right then, Jeeves. Bottom's up!" Liam tossed back the shot of something dark and metallic, winced at the subtle after burn and lickerish (how he hated lickerish) aftertaste lingering on his tongue and in the back of his throat. He then went ahead—category Best Day of His Life Volume One:

In this case—it would definitely have to be meeting his now ex-girlfriend, Stephanie, on a blind date five months ago. They had met on Canoodle.com, a local matchmaking website ‘for the obvious shy and often timid.'

"I'll never forget the first time I laid eyes on her," Liam said, turning the shot glass in circles in his hand. "She was waiting for me in front of Wally's Pizza, wearing a yellow flower dress." Jeeves's eyebrows rose. He slowly leaned over the bar in peaked interest.

"So, that was your best day? I am sure nothing could top that one, no-no!" Liam smirked.

"It sure was, Jeeves," he said. "But maybe I should have picked our second date as my first best day. Because it was on our second date, Jeeves, that we finally kissed. Outside her apartment building; it started to snow!" Jeeves held a hand over his mouth, giggled.

"Why, yes! I do believe that one would have been your best of all, sir," he said, excitedly. Liam stared off then, thoughtfully. Jeeves poured the third shot for him.

"And what would be your third best, my Liam? Please, don't hold out on your new friend!"

Like the other two—Liam tossed it back with a quick gulp, dropped the shot-glass back on the counter.

"Well… I suppose it would have to be just those two, I guess," he said, after a thoughtful pause.

"Just two? Oh come on; there must be one more, Liam!"

"Maybe," Liam said, thinking about it. But he knew he'd be better off only doing such, than telling this Jeeves just how good it really was. It hadn't at all been a marvellous moment, but no doubt one he would never forget. Because less than twenty minutes ago he had just left Stephanie's apartment building, and her lying dead on the floor. He had strangled her after an argument in jealous rage over spotting her hugging another man earlier that afternoon. He didn't mean to do it—he only wanted her to admit playing the two-timing card, but insults were flung in his direction and he soon found both of his hands around her slim soft neck. The only thing he could think of now as being one of the best moments or scenarios of his life (because most of them revolved around her for the past five months) was being pretty damn sure there hadn't been a witness. That he would, in fact, undoubtedly get away with her murder.

The blinds were closed, he thought now. Pretty sure; and, I didn't pick up the phone when it started ringing. No—he couldn't have, his hands were already occupied around her neck, both of them on the living room floor. It hadn't been long after that.

And she didn't scratch me with her long nails; she came close, but. She mostly just tried pushing me off her. The building was so quiet when I left…

He glanced at his sports watch, back at Jeeves. "Maybe another time, ok? It's getting real late and I gotta be at work pretty early in the a.m. I'm a mail carrier." He dug into his front jeans pocket. "How much?"

"How much for what?" Jeeves replied, confused.

"For the two shots of your finest, of course," Liam grinned. Jeeves returned it.

"No need, sir," he put up a hand. "You didn't tell me the third best moment of your life. It's all on me, sir… enjoy your night."

"Please," Liam said, still digging in his front pockets. "The drinks were great; let me just—"

He shifted a hand to his back pocket. The front ones were empty, but as he dug in one and then the other, he suddenly came to realize why he hadn't had his wallet on him this time while out. The little reminder came to him in dreadful flashes:

It was back in Stephanie's apartment. She had tried taking the small can of mace that he most often had sitting in his back pocket—the only thing he felt comfortable with having on him while on the east-side of the city. But it wasn't there this time—he'd lost it in a scuffle with another mail-carrier that morning over route-territory. But what she did find back there, while she struggled with her free hand to get him off her, was his wallet. She just had enough time to grab it before slipping unconscious. His mail-carrier identification-card, bank and other information—it was all beside her body. Liam's hands began to shake.

Police sirens suddenly blipped from up the block, and Liam found himself standing outside of In Your Dreams, Steph's favourite beauty salon in the neighbourhood. The small bar—the mysterious Jeeves, were gone. Had they even existed?

No, really, sir, Jeeves's voice whispered in his mind then. Enjoy your night….
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Tabatha Jun 17, 2013

I found that piece of fiction, is the best fiction that I read so far in my life, it is suspenseful and that it has that ending that gives it a twist to it

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