The Strange Story From the Bar

For a whole month, there was unbearable heat: the sun blazed during the day, and at night, the air was so suffocating that it seemed impossible to survive without air conditioning.

Chuck’s bar was packed today, but the fun ended much earlier than usual. It was midnight, and the bar was empty, with only the bartender left.

The door to the bar opened, and a tall, thin man in his 50s walked in. He was dressed inappropriately for the weather: he wore a black coat, a black hat, gloves, and held a folded umbrella in his hands. His face was covered in scars, as if he had suffered from smallpox in the past; his skin was as pale as a corpse’s, clearly indicating that he hadn't been outside during the day. His eyes were unusual: the pupils were very light, and they looked glassy, though the word “icy” would be a better description.

He walked up to the bar. Chuck glanced at him, greeted him, and the stranger nodded in response.

The man’s outfit didn’t faze Chuck. It wasn’t unusual for strange characters to walk into his bar, some dressed even more bizarrely, but the umbrella caught his attention.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Please, pour me some absinthe,” the stranger’s voice was very soft and pleasant, like a radio host’s.

“Alright, sir, here you go,” Chuck placed the glass next to him. “Do you think it’s going to rain tonight?” Chuck asked.

“No, of course not, I always carry an umbrella just in case. Rain doesn’t ask if you’re ready to get wet,” the man replied with a smile.

“Strange guy,” Chuck thought, but smiled back at him.

“Do you believe in God, Chuck?”

Chuck wasn’t surprised that the stranger knew his name—after all, his bar was called “Chuck’s Bar,” and anyone could read the sign at the entrance.

“No, sir, I’m an atheist.”

“That’s interesting, how did that happen?”

“It’s my choice. Sorry, sir, I don’t like to talk about such things, especially with strangers.”

“Would you like me to tell you what influenced your choice?”

“Well, enlighten me, if you don’t mind,” Chuck replied with undisguised irony.

“Your father left you, your mother wasn’t perfect either. When you were a child, you didn’t have anyone to turn to for absolute truth. You realized early on that no one would take care of you except for yourself. So why follow anyone or anything that doesn’t deserve your respect? The concept of God turned out to be empty for you.”

“Sorry, how do you know me? Are we acquainted?” Chuck asked, startled.

“Well, of course, we’re acquainted. I’ve known you for a long time, but it seems you’ve forgotten me. It’s unpleasant when you’re forgotten. While you’re trying to recall, tell me, Chuck, do you have anyone you would die for?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going to die for anyone.”

“Sorry, Chuck, you probably didn’t like this question, I didn’t mean to upset you,” the man replied apologetically. He gulped down the absinthe and asked for more.

“But still... Try to answer the question,” he said, staring Chuck in the eyes.

“Finish your absinthe and leave, the bar is closing. I’m here to serve drinks, not to answer crazy questions from customers.”

“I understand you, Chuck.”

The stranger quickly pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it against Chuck’s head.

“Don’t shoot, take everything you want, just don’t shoot!” Chuck responded, filled with terror.

“Answer my question, Chuck! For whom would you die?” The man looked at him in a way that made Chuck realize: if he didn’t answer, it was the end for him.

His whole life flashed before his eyes, and at that moment, he longed to be at home, holding his wife and children.

“For my family, for my wife and children. Don’t shoot, please...”

“If you’re ready to die for them, then you have something to live for...”

“And what about your affair on the side? Would you die for that too?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t die for that, don’t shoot, please,” Chuck replied. He told the truth when the stranger pointed the gun at him. He didn’t even remember the mistress.

“He knows everything, how does he know everything?” Chuck thought.

The man smiled, put the gun in his pocket, and said:

— Why risk everything you have, playing a shell game in some shady back alley?

Chuck didn’t say a word and lowered his head. All that went through his mind was: who the hell are you?!

The stranger quietly said:

— Ich bin ein Teil von jener Kraft, Die stets das Böse will und stets das Gute schafft.

Chuck didn’t understand him, he didn’t know German.

The man finished his absinthe and walked toward the door. As he left, he said:

— We’ll meet again, Chuck.

He stepped out onto the street, opened the umbrella, and at that moment, a lightning bolt flashed, thunder struck, and the heaviest downpour obscured him from anyone who might have accidentally seen how he left the bar.

Chuck didn’t notice this. He was trembling, wiped the sweat from his brow, poured himself some whiskey, and drank it. “Maybe my wife found out about my affairs and hired this maniac to scare me, and she succeeded, oh how she succeeded...”

Chuck took out his phone and wrote a message:

— Katie, it’s over between us! I LOVE MY WIFE!

The stranger was never seen in the city again.

The image was created by Chris F and taken from pexels.com
https://www.pexels.com/@Chris-F-38966