Mercury in Gatorade

The shop was dark by the time they got back. Addie forced Chappie to help her drag the raft back, where she sighed and stared at her patch. Sure enough, she could see the edge starting to peel up. It was deflating, slowly but surely. It would be flat by the morning.

“I need a headlamp.”

She paused. “Actually,” she said, “I’m not doing this tonight. I’m going home.”

This didn’t get the amazed reaction she was expecting. Chappie just nodded approvingly.

“I’ll probably have a few drinks,” she added. “Buy a couple of tacos.”

All she wanted to do was curl up on her own couch and not think about the shop for a few hours. Chappie leaned out, grabbed a tarp, and pulled it over the raft, weighing it down with a rock.

He dusted his hands off twice, then turned to her. “You shouldn’t stay here,” he said, “But it’s no fun being at home. It’s a holiday! I heard they’re doing themed drinks at the Howl.”

“Great.”

The Howl was a touristy bar. It was halfway between wolf and cowboy theming, like the owners were in a continuous argument, and the drinks were overpriced. Addie didn’t like the new light fixture they’d installed, either.

“They have excellent fries,” said Chappie, instead.

They did have excellent fries. Addie sighed. “You’re buying.”

“I’m buying!” Chappie grinned. “Now, let’s get out of here before Kev remembers us.”

The Howl wasn’t a long walk from Kev’s Kool reKreation. Addie followed Chappie in, taking a seat at the bar and wincing at the massive glowing moon that hung above the seats. It was too bright; that was the problem. She didn’t come to a bar to look at other people.

“They have drinks for all of the planets in alignment,” said Chappie. “Choose one you think fits you!”

Addie squinted at the menu. Of course they’d had a special menu printed for the occasion. Kev was probably madly jealous. “Who’s drinking Mars?” That much cinnamon and whiskey? They’d have heartburn for weeks.

“Well, it’s not a gentle planet, is it?”

She grimaced. “I’ll just take the fries.”

As she sat back, the pleather of the seat squeaking against her shorts, she couldn’t help but watch the other residents of the bar. The bachelorette party from earlier was clustered in a booth against the wall, clutching brightly colored drinks with umbrellas. A few locals were along the bar with her and Chappie, most of them with simple glasses of lager. Tourists were interspersed, obvious by their bright clothing, fanny backs and backpacks, and large hats.

Wendel would have loved it here.

“One order of fries,” said the bartender. He grinned at Addie. “I told you, you’d get used to the moon eventually.”

“It’s still obnoxious,” she told him. She grabbed a handful of fries.

They were still amazing. It almost made up for how bright it was in here.

“And two of the Mercuries in Gatorade,” said the bartender. He slid across some horrible blue concoction at Addie, a matching one going to Chappie.

She turned to stare at him accusingly.

“You should get in the spirit more,” said Chappie. “I mean, how often do the planets align?”

She thought again of Wendel’s face, how eager he’d spoken to her. Once every few decades.

Addie took a sip of the blue drink to avoid thinking about it. It was, unfortunately, very good. She put it back down on the counter.

“I have to go.”

“It’s that bad?” Chappie was midway through fries. “Sorry. I just thought we could use something hydrating.”

“It’s not that,” said Addie. “I told someone I’d show him around. I’ll be back. Probably.” She stood up, pushing the stool back in. “Don’t take all the fries.”

“I would never.”

Chappie solemnly took another bite of the fries. Addie took one more breath, staring at the various tourists, before she stepped back out into the night.

~*~

Mo’s was on the opposite end of town. If Addie had owned a car, she might have driven, but as it was she had a nice long walk to consider all of her choices. She could see tourists all over town, entering hotels and walking out of restaurants. All of them were gawking, snapping pictures and speaking to each other about their observations.

Were they really so different from Wendel? When had she gotten so sour?

The sign for Mo’s had gone half-out sometime, and now only flickered in the darkness as she approached. The bar itself was nestled into the foot of the mountain, as if it was simply another part of the landscape.

Addie had to swallow once more before she pulled the door open. It wouldn’t be anything big. She was just giving further directions to a possible customer.

When she pulled the door open, it was to laughter. She stopped moving and had to wait for her eyes to adjust.

In the corner, around the broken-down pool table; a few bikers, intent on their game. That was normal. Around another table, a few more smoking and talking, their drinks nearly empty. Also normal.

At the bar, a few bikers, and there- next to them. Kev, his smile gleaming even through the smoke, and at his side, a green-skinned man in a stove-pipe hat.

Addie swore under her breath and strode across the room. As she tried to grab a stool to sit next to them, they continued their conversation easily.

“I’m sorry if you had a bad experience,” said Kev. “It’s so difficult to find good help these days. But I’m always here if you have any complaints.”

“I have no complaints. She informed me of all of your restrictions.”

“I’m not entirely sure she did. You thought we were closed?”

“You needed to complete repairs. This is understandable. I still have a day until I have to leave. The alignment remains.” Wendel hiccoughed. “What is in this concoction?”

“That’s an IPA,” said Kev. “So, mostly hops and resentment.”

“I see.” Wendel lifted it up and rotated it in front of his eyes, back and forth. “The resentment is also distilled?”

“You could say that.” Kev paused. “So, you wanted to make a reservation?”

“Evening,” said Addie.

They both turned to face her. Kev’s smile stayed fixed on his face. Wendel had taken off his aviators. His eyes were strange and slitted, like a cat’s; she watched as they dilated wide, flickering strangely in the light.

“Ah,” he said. “So you did return. I am glad.”

“Look,” she said. “I’m- sorry if I misdirected you.”

“Misdirection?” he leaned forward so enthusiastically the IPA half-sloshed out of the glass. “I have learned so much about human society. They have informed me of many rules here. Rules I did not learn elsewhere.”

That was what Addie was afraid of. “Look,” she said. “It’s not really-”

“It’s nice to see you,” said Kev, “But we’re talking about scheduling now. Aren’t you supposed to have time off, right now?”

Addie balled up her hand into a fist.

“I-”

Kev had already turned back to Wendel. “How about first thing tomorrow,” he said. “The river will be most beautiful then.”

Early-morning raft tours were the hardest to sell. No one wanted to get up early in the morning and then get sprayed with cold water. Especially if Kev was involved, with his smarmy optimism.

“Hey,” said Addie.

“Do you mind?” Kev was gritting his teeth, now.

“I spoke to him first!” said Addie. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much to see Kev trying to rip off the poor elf, but it did. “Listen,” she said to Wendel, “Our big raft is broken, the one you saw me fixing. You’d have to take the smaller raft. And no one likes early-morning raft rides.”

“I see.” Wendel put his drink down. “You were misleading me!” He said triumphantly. “I was informed humans would do this.”

“I’m not misleading you. Addie is simply a disgruntled- ”

“You know what,” said Addie, “I’m sick of this. Kev, I fixed that raft. I get to say if it’s broken or not.”

She stomped around him entirely and strode up to the side of Wendel, who was sitting on the end of the bar. It was, she realized, the best place to see the rest of the action. The conversation at the small table had stopped to stare at them.

“Look,” she said. “They’ve got themed drinks over at the Howl and pretty good tacos down the street. I’m sorry I mislead you.”

Wendel held out a hand. “It was an important cultural lesson,” he said. “I would like to see this drink.”

They shook once. Then Addie stepped aside, and Wendel turned to leave the bar. Kev had lost his smile for once. “I should fire you,” he said.

“Do it, then.” Addie glared at him. “By the way,” she added, “I hated that sign.”