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The Baptist Basement Bar and Grill

Written by Terry Howard

Jimmy Dick moved down the bar to where Tom Ruffner was putting away the brews way too fast for a man who was going to walk home without taking a nap first. "Hey, Tommy? What's up? You don't hardly come in here anymore. You ain't had a fight with the wife have you?"

"Jenny is going to kill me!" Tom said.

"Well, send her some flowers. That always helps."

"I did. I bought a big expensive vase from that Hungarian potter and I took it to the flower shop and had them fill it full of roses and take it to my wife this morning. But she didn't call the shop so I know she's still mad. She's going to kill me."

"So you decided on a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"A what?"

"A self-fulfilling prophecy. Like what happened to Oedipus Rex."

"Ed who?"

"Oedipus Rex, the Greek who . . ."

"Oh, him? The one they named the Ed'ipus complex after. I know that one. The lady took her son to the shrink because the school told her she had too. The shrink told her, 'Mrs. Goldstein, your boy is suffering from an Ed'ipus Complex.' And she said, 'Ed'ipus, shmed'ipus, as long as he loves his mother.'" Tommy tipped back his beer and signaled for another one. "What does that stupid joke have to do with anything?"

"Oh, there's a whole lot more to the story that that. First of all, when Oedipus was born it was foretold that he would kill his father and marry his mother. So Poppa told someone to get rid of the kid. Instead of killing the boy that someone gave him away to some shepherds. When Oedipus hit twenty or so he got rowdy and the local law told him to get out of town. So he loaded up his chariot and took off.

"Along the way he ran into a mean old man coming down the road toward him who was suffering from road rage. The old man told him, 'Get out of the way or get run over.'

"'Try it, you old fart,' Oedipus told him.

"'Shut your mouth, boy, before I shut it for you. I'm king around here.'

"Oedipus laughed. 'You and what army?'

"So the old man got out of his chariot and set out to teach the kid a lesson. He couldn't make good on the brag and in the end he died trying.

"Later, Oedipus met up with a mythical creature who told him he had to answer the most famous riddle of all time or get eaten."

"Which one?" Tommy asked. "What is your name, what is your favorite color, or what is the relative flying speed of a sparrow?"

"No, the other most famous riddle of all time." Jimmy said.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

Jimmy Dick gave up with a sigh, "Yeah, that one. When he answered it correctly the Sphinx was so upset it killed itself. Someone caught it on camera for the evening news and since the city was short a king and he was a good-looking kid they gave him the job. But to get it he had to marry the queen. She was a good-looking woman and a lot younger than her first husband, so Oedipus said yes.

"So you see, if they had kept the boy and raised him up right the prophecy wouldn't have come true."

"What are you getting at, Jimmy?"

"If you get drunk, your wife will kill you."

"She's going to kill me anyway. So I might as well get drunk. Just one thing I want to know? What is the correct answer to why the chicken crossed the road?"

"That's simple. One ditch is birth, the other ditch is death, so the chicken has no choice. Just why is your wife going to kill you anyway?"

"Yesterday was our wedding anniversary and I completely forgot it."

Jimmy looked at him. "Ken, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. We've got a wake down here."

Then Jimmy directed his words to Tom, "Shit, kid, you're right, Jenny is going kill you for sure, but not before she skins you alive. So you might as well go home dead drunk."

Jimmy poured a healthy, or unhealthy, double shot of whiskey in a shot glass and encouraged Tom to chug it. It wasn't very long before Tom was smiling from ear to ear and trying to sing.

"That should just about do," Jimmy told the younger man. "Ken, I need a bottle of cheap wine, if you please."

"For crying out loud, Jimmy, are you trying to give the man the worst possible hangover he can have?"

"Sure am."

Ken snorted. "I shouldn't let you do it, Jimmy. I need the customers, bad!" Ken put a half empty bottle on the bar. "Here, it's on the house. I won't be able to sell it anyway."

At that comment Jimmy raised an eyebrow and Ken walked off. Jimmy got a shoulder under Tom's arm, "Let's see about getting you home before you pass out." He grabbed the bottle, pulled the cork out with his teeth and handed it to Tom. "Here, have a hit of this."

At the Ruffner house Jimmy got Tom settled into the porch swing. Tom started to lie down. Jimmy propped him up. "No, you don't, Tommy. Not until I get you to bed on the couch."

Jimmy knocked on the door. When Jenny answered it, Jimmy said, "Hi, Jenny. Help me get Tom on the couch before he falls asleep."

"Jimmy? He's drunk?"

"Yeah."

"What happened? It's still daylight. When he used to get drunk he didn't stagger home until sometime after midnight."

"That's because he stuck with beer. I got some whiskey and some wine into him on top of the beer and then I brought him home."

Jenny shook her head and frowned, "I ought to leave him on the porch for the night!"

"Haven't you already done enough? He's going to have what he'll be sure is the worst hangover of his life tomorrow morning."

"What do you mean haven't I done enough? I didn't get him drunk!"

"Really? The man didn't stop at the bar on the way home for a beer or two. He stopped to get drunk. He wasn't willing to face you sober. He was afraid to come home. Mostly what he said was, 'Jenny is going to kill me!' So I don't see how you can claim it isn't your fault."

Jenny sucked her breath in between her teeth with a hissing sound and she blushed just a bit. "I guess maybe I was being a little hard on him. Let's get him to bed."

"No, put him on the couch. He needs to wake up with a sore back and a stiff neck along with the pounding head."

"Jimmy, you're mean!"

"Don't waste a good hangover by making it easy on him, and don't wait until he feels better to talk about it either, not if you want this to be his last one."

****

Jimmy was hardly back to the bar before Bubba came in.

"Hey, Jimmy." It was Thursday night. Bubba was broke, as usual and thirsty, as usual. Jimmy Dick was perched on a stool at the middle of Club 250's bar, ready, willing and able to buy a beer for anyone who was desperate enough for a free beer to put up with his acid wit. There were few takers, as usual.

Jimmy waved two fingers at the bartender. Ken was already popping two cork lined bottle tops off newly made bottles. Up-time beer bottles were now collectables and were turning up in curio cabinets all over Europe.

"What's up, Bubba?"

"You heard about the mess Al Green's kid got into?"

Oddly, all Jimmy said was, "Yeah?"

"Well, don't you think a preacher should have done a better job of raising his kids than that?"

"Bubba? Have I ever told you you're about as dumb as a box of rocks?"

"About once a week, Jimmy."

"Didn't you get in trouble when you were his age?"

"Yeah, but then my dad wasn't a preacher."

"And you expect a preacher to do something even God couldn't do."

Bubba picked up his beer bottle when the bartender plopped it down in front of him by sheer reflex unguided by any cognizant thought. His entire intellect was busy trying to get itself around what Jimmy had just said. In half a second he gave up. "Now how do you figure that?"

"Bubba, God raised Adam and Eve didn't he?"

Jimmy was staring at a blonde. The waitress picked up the empties off of the table. When she got to "Big Dog" Carpenter she leaned over and said something quietly in his ear. Bobby looked up and replied but the waitress shook her head emphatically.

Jimmy caught the tail end of the conversation. Or at least he thought he did if he read Bob's lips right: "Let me finish my drink first."

When the waitress got back to the bar, Ken had two beers waiting. He told the waitress, "Go tell Bob, these are on the house, then tell him you're sorry, you misunderstood. He and his lady friend are welcome to stay as long as they like."

The waitress got mad and demanded, "What about the sign on the door?"

"I guess it's time for the sign to come down. I'll take it off in the morning."

"What happened, Jimmy?" Bubba asked. "It sure ain't like Ken to give out free drinks."

"Shit, Bubba, you really are as dumb as a box of rocks. The waitress told Bobby to get his down-timer girl friend out of here."

"Shit, Jimmy. Yeah, the sign is still on the door but Ken quit saying anything about that months ago. The Garbage Guys started bringing that Frenchman in here for a drink after work. Until he left town he was here so often he was practically a regular. So how come she told the blonde to leave and never said boo to the Frenchman?"

"Ken will be taking to sign down in the morning."

"Yeah, but what's the difference? Why did she get on to Big Dog but not the Garbage Guys? I'd much rather look at the blonde than the Frenchman."

"Think about it, Bubba. Why do the girls work here? The money sure ain't all that good."

"Okay, Jimmy. Why?"

"To get looked at, Bubba. When the blonde came in every guy in the place was looking at her and no one was paying attention to the waitress any more. The waitress doesn't mind the Frenchman, she thinks he's cute, he sits at a table, drinks his wine, he's quiet and he tips well. But she wasn't about to put up with having that kind of competition. There's only room for one queen bee in a hive so one of them had to go. She was too much of a distraction."

"Yeah, that's a fact she surely was distracting, all right. A women like that, well, it's kind of hard for a fella to think straight. Shit, it's hard for a fella to think at all when he's lookin' at somethin' like that."

"Said Adam when Eve handed him an apple. Like I said, Bubba, even God can't raise perfect kids. I don't see how you can expect preachers to do any better. Like I told Jenny when I took Tommy home, if you want to keep them, all you can do is love 'em, forgive 'em, and encourage them to do better next time."

****

Late the next morning Ken was at the front door with a screwdriver when Jimmy walked up.

A sour faced Ken Beasley looked at him. "You're early, even by the old standards."

For years Jimmy Dick had often been Ken's first customer of the day and he was usually there at closing. After Jimmy got labeled as Grantville's Greatest Philosopher, about the time his daughter died, Jimmy started changing and spent more time in the library that he did in the bar. That phase seemed to be tapering off and the amount of time he spent in the bar was going back up.

"I wanted to see you take it down," Jimmy said.

Ken snarled. "Might as well. When the wife turns it into a beauty parlor I'll have to anyway. Most of her customers are Krauts."

Jimmy was taken aback. "Beauty parlor? What are you talking about?"

"Shit, Jimmy, her business is booming. Both chairs are booked solid and she could fill a third one, easy, and probably a fourth one if there was room."

"Where would she get another chair?" Jimmy said.

"She can get one made up. Except for the hydraulics it's just a reclining chair and the hydraulics are no big deal. Hell, a car jack will work, and there are plenty of those to be had. It don't even need to be hydraulic. A mechanical jack will do just fine. She's wantin' to expand but you of all people know what rents are like in town right now."

Jimmy nodded. He lost his veteran's disability check because of the Ring of Fire. Fortunately the rents from the once empty buildings he had inherited on Main Street made up for it. Someone had bought them because they could be had on the cheap. After the Ring of Fire an empty building was not to be found in Grantville.

"So she's nagging me to let her open up here. She wants to turn half of it into a salon and the other half into a coffee shop, a café for customers while they're waiting and people waiting for customers. If her numbers are anywhere near right, it's the way to go."

A pale Jimmy Dick quietly asked, "But where would we drink?"

"Jimmy, she don't care. I guess I shouldn't either. The place is never more than half full anymore. People off to the army and moving out of town don't account for all of it by a long shot. With so many new bars in town people just don't come anymore. If they don't care, why should I? I can't afford to turn customers away. I guess I could still sell beer out of the coffee shop side of the business after hours."

"That would take care of the late night regulars, I guess, but what about the lunch crowd? What about the faithful? You'd lose a lot of business anyway. Do you know what a beauty parlor smells like? Yeah, I guess you do. But you're used to it, so you don't even notice. I don't see how any one could stand to hang out and drink there."

"Still, Jimmy, if I pay myself wages, I ain't making enough to break even. Even on New Years' Eve I'm only half full any more. The interest I'm paying on the loans that let me buy McAdam's whiskey and Old Joe's cigarette makings is eating me alive. The wife looks at the income and argues that a parlor is a much better use of the space. I've been arguing that it will turn around but I'm losing ground. It seems like there's fewer of us every month. More and more people are making down-time friends. They can't bring them here so they go across the street. If things don't turn around somehow, I'll have to give in and close up."

"Ken, I just raised the rent on the old shoe store. The tenant says he'll have to move if I don't come back down. That would be a whole lot better location for a beauty parlor than here anyway. And she'd have room to open a café if she wants."

Ken shook his head, "Can't afford it, Jimmy."

"Yes, you can. I'll see to it. We can start with a low rent and raise it as the business grows. If it doesn't grow then she can move it back home."

Ken stopped unscrewing the sign and looked at Jimmy without saying a word for what seemed like forever. When he spoke it was one word. "Why?"

"Ken, this is . . . community, it's family, it's church for those of us who aren't churchmen, it's home." Jimmy's voice kept rising. "I can't let you do it to me or the other regulars. I just can't."

Ken bit his lower lip, something he was wont to do when he needed to think. "Let me run it by the wife. Thanks, Jimmy."

****

The next day when Jimmy came in Ken popped the tops off of two beers and put one in front of him. Jimmy got quiet in his soul. In all the years of drinking in Club 250 he had rarely seen Ken drink and never with a customer.

Ken concentrated on drinking his beer until it was half gone. "Jimmy, thanks for the offer of the old shoe store. But I talked it over with the wife and she flat out said 'No.' I said, 'Why not?' and when she said why I couldn't argue the point."

"Ken, you can't do this. What was her argument? Surely we can come up with an answer that will get her to change her mind."

"I doubt it, Jimmy. She pointed out it was dumb to pay rent, even if it was a better location, when the Club was going out of business anyway. And it is, Jimmy. Even with the best whiskey in town . . ."

Jimmy spoke up, "Shit, it's the best whiskey in Germany."

". . . and even with the only supply of the next thing to up-time cigarettes . . ."

"I don't care if they are hand rolled. They're up-time cigarettes," Jimmy said.

". . . to exist these days, I ain't got enough customers to pay the toll. And it's only going to get worse. So why rent a space downtown? What am I going to do with this place when I close the doors? She's right. We might as well face reality and make the change now."

Jimmy's mouth opened and agony poured out, "Ken, you can't do it! Please? Think about it! Find another way!"

"Sorry, Jimmy. It's a done deal. She's moving the beauty shop here just as soon as we can do the remodeling. You're the last customer. I'm hanging the out of business sign on the door as soon as you leave."

"Then I'm not leaving. Please, Ken, find another answer."

"Well, if you're not leaving then I guess I'll just hang the sign and lock the front door before anyone else comes in while you're waiting." Ken picked up the hammer and the nails and the sign he had ready to hand behind the bar and headed for the door.

When he came back Jimmy had calmed down. "Ken, what are you going to do?"

"Like I said, Jimmy we're turning the place into a beauty parlor."

"No, I mean what are you going to do when you're not running this place any more?"

"I guess I can find a job as a bartender, if I don't like being a house husband and gentleman of leisure. The wife says with what she'll make after she moves, I won't have to work if I don't want to. Shoot Jimmy, I almost hate to admit it, but as I get older the idea of farming is growing more attractive all the time, despite what I swore as a kid.

"When I sell off the stock and the furniture I might try to buy the old home place and raise some cane," Ken said with a smile. "I haven't been able to raise any Cain in years. You really need to be on the other side of the bar for that."

"How much?"

"What?"

"For the stock and the furniture? How much?"

"I ain't tallied it yet."

"Give me first dibs. You owe me that much."

"What are you going to do with them? Open your own place in the old shoe store?"

"Maybe. And, maybe all I want is a lifetime supply. It's like the story about the man . . ."

"Jimmy, the bar is closed. I don't have to listen to any more of your dumb ass stories even if all I ever did was overhear them. I never did think any of them were funny. No, I take that back. There was one, the one about the Norse gods complaining to Buddha about Grantville. That one was funny."

****

"Hey, what's going on?" a very puzzled Jim Allen demanded. All the tables and chairs were pushed to one side. Ken and Jimmy Dick were busy taking the bar apart.

"Didn't you read the sign?" Ken asked.

"What sign?" Eric Hudson asked.

"The one on the door," Ken clarified.

"The damned door was open! We didn't see any sign. What hell is going on?" Jim repeated.

"I'm out of business," Ken said.

"Out of business? You can't do that," Jim objected.

"Watch me," Ken replied.

"But, but, but why?" Jim asked almost stuttering in absolute amazement.

"Shit, Jim. I was losing money and it was getting worse seems like every week. I ain't seen you or Eric in over a month. Where were you when I was trying to make ends meet?"

"We've been in Halle," Eric said.

"Yeah, that's the problem. Half of my customers have moved out of town. Half of the ones who didn't got cozy with the Krauts and quit comin' in. I can't make a livin' no more and my wife needs more space for her beauty salon so I'm out of here and she's movin' in."

"A beauty salon? You're turning the best saloon in town into a salon? Ken? You have got to be kidding! You can't do this!" Jim said.

When Jimmy Dick heard the line 'saloon into salon' his sarcastic wit went to work. 'So you lost your "o" did you? Or maybe, if you take the salon out of saloon all you have is "0." Or how about. . . . But he set it aside for later and gave his attention to what was unfolding.

"I can, and I have. Fini, done, finished, complete, it's over. I can't keep a bar open without customers.

"I'm ready to take a break and I've got a few cold ones in back. Care to join me?"

Jimmy looked up. "It's like the story of the fellow who . . ."

Ken snarled, "Shut up, Jimmy. You guys want a cold one on the house or not?"

"Might as well," Eric said. "That's what we came in for. It's just not going to be the same in town without the club."

"I'm sure you'll find somewhere else to drink," Ken said. Looking at Jimmy, "Maybe someone else will open up a redneck bar."

Jimmy didn't say a word.

"Ken, it just won't be the same," Eric said.

"Hey, things change. They grow or they die. It's like a . . ."

"I said shut up, Jimmy, and I meant it."

"Well. Okay, but . . ."

Ken's look said it all. Jimmy shut up.

****

"Hey, Tip. You heard the news?" Audrey Yost, the florist in town, asked as she stopped in for a beer and pretzel lunch.

"Yes, isn't it great. She had a litter of nine and all of them are pointed."

Audrey was purely puzzled, "What are you talking about."

"Hazel's latest litter, we were sure when there wasn't an unneutered male Siamese in town that we'd lost them. But she found a pure white to breed with. Only two of the first litter were fully pointed and they were both females. But she kept crossing back. It's taken years, but it looks like maybe she's bred the alley cat out of them. Now, when my cat dies, I can get another Siamese. Isn't it great?"

"That's news?"

"Sure, it's great news."

"I was talking about something important."

"Well, if you don't think keeping a breed alive is important, I do. What's your important news?" Tip asked.

"Club 250 has shut down and the beauty parlor is moving in. Never thought I'd see the day I'd be going there but it looks like I will now."

"Yeah, I've heard." Tip's voice held no excitement or approval. "I thought you said you knew something important."

Audrey was puzzled and disappointed. "Hey, with Ken shutting down, that leaves you with the only aged whiskey in town. Maybe you'll pick up some of his business."

Tip paled just a bit, "Gawd, I hope not. I don't want those rowdy rednecks in here making a lot of noise, scaring off my other customers, getting in fights and busting up the place."

"Hm. Hadn't thought of that," Audrey said.

****

Lorena Maggard's phone rang, "Hello?"

"Lorena, this is Carolyn, I've got the most wonderful news."

In her early seventies Lorena didn't get out much. On the other hand, you couldn't hardly catch Carolyn at home. A lot of her time was spent visiting down at the nursing homes and fetching groceries and such for various shut-ins . . . in other words, gossiping.

"You'll never believe it. And I wanted you to know right away so I didn't want to wait until I see you tomorrow. After all these years, our prayers have been answered. Ken has finally shut down that awful bar."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Halleluiah! It's about time! I didn't think I'd live to see it. What happened, Lorena? Did the cops finally close him down? The good Lord knows we called and complained about it often enough."

"No, his wife needs more space for the beauty shop so she made him let her take over the building."

"Lordamercy, I do declare. Well! God bless her. I guess I'll just have to go get my hair done. It's been ages."

"Lorena, it's been years and you know it."

"Well, then it's about time, ain't it? I've always wondered what the place looked like inside."

****

A bit later Phyllis Congden-Dobbs' phone rang. She picked it up and, of course, she said, "Hello?"

"Phyllis? This is Carolyn. Have you heard? Ken's closing down that terrible bar of his."

"Well, that's not surprising. I've been waiting for that to happen ever since he told Estil he couldn't be bartender any more, because there wasn't enough business."

Carolyn was disappointed. Phyllis was neither excited nor surprised. After all, what's the point of "sharing the good news" if everybody already knows about it? Still, if you can't pass it along, then it's time to go fishing. Who knows, you might learn something you can share elsewhere.

"Say, I ain't seen Estil in a dog's age. What's he up to these days."

"Haven't you heard? He's got a job in Magdeburg."

"Well, I do declare. Will miracles never cease? Estil has a job?" Then her voice filled out with suspicion. "What kind of job? Is he tending bar?"

"No, he's a ...