Imagine reliving the best parts of your life again, and in a way that you can control. Sound interesting? Would you change anything? That’s what I thought.
I’m not going to bore you with the whole; who I am – if I’m good or if I’m bad. Who gives a fuck right?
I’m going to jump into the nitty gritty because that’s what you’re here for.
I’ve found a bar that offers these strange beers. Pretty much everywhere nowadays right? But I bet they can’t do what this one did. I stumbled across this bar last night and had my first experience. It was mind-blowing and now I’m trying to *decipher* it.
I was walking home from a pub crawl in the light of a fat moon when a dirty flyer got caught in my jacket. Blueberry beer and bad intentions printed in bold gothic letters on the front, a picture of a strange glass underneath, and the address stamped on the bottom and EUA in italics real small under that.
The street was on the way home, and even though I was fairly plastered, I thought what the fuck. I might as well.
It was little more than an alleyway, and I found the bar and pushed through the doors. A single man stood behind a generic counter, another guy sat off to one side looking into the bottom of his pint with a look of wonder on his face.
Although it was deserted I thought, I was here, might as well have a drink. I slapped the flyer on the counter and asked what he had.
“Seven different beers on tap, each will take you back to a past event that you found most…pleasing.”
Not really understanding what he meant, I told him to hit me and slapped some money on the counter.
“That paper is worthless here.” He smiled and pushed the note back with a slender finger.
“Payment will be acquired…after,” he said with a smirk and turned to pull a glass of blue liquid.
I tried to take in my surrounding as he pulled the pint, but the place was just as drab as the flyer. Square, dirty and desolate.
“The more you drink, the better the emersion.” He said.
I grabbed the offered glass and raised it in the air looking through the condensation clouding the surface; a Goat was etched in the glass. It’s horn twirled around and came to a point under its breaded chin.
“But.” – He raised a gnarly finger in the air. – “You must tell what is happening.”
I took a sip and was surprised that it was sweet.
The flavor bounced around my pallet, and I found myself visualizing blueberries growing in the fields, hop hanging in vines draping out the midday sun, long afternoons sweating at my uncle’s farm when I was a teenaged boy. I took a longer draft.
With every gulp, I fell deeper into my past until I found myself there.
The sun grew so hot in the California afternoons. The sweat cascade down my back in rivulets. My dirty t-shirt wasn’t a functioning barrier anymore it only
stopped the sun’s rays from burning my skin.
I saw the buckets full of blueberries at my feet; a truck sat over to my right. Tony was sitting in the shade of a wheel, he never did any work, and I often wondered why my uncle Steve kept him on. Sixteen years old me didn’t know why, but later I would find Tony doing things for my uncle Steve in the shed that his wife could never do.
The only solitude was bending over next to me, her apple bottom ripe for the plucking. Golden hair shimmered under her straw hat, and the saggy t-shirt she wore did little to hide her curves. Sally straightened and smiled at me.
“What ya looking at slugger?”
I remembered this moment.
My parents were extremely religious and overbearing, but Dad thought I needed to till the land as some right of passage into manhood, so he sent me to my uncle Steve. Little did he know that his push was the one that would lead me to my first sin.
It was the final day of the harvest, once I loaded the last crates into the truck, Sally would pull me into the field, and we would lose our virginities together. I remember being an awkward fumbling mess and often wondered what it would have been like to do it all over again with the knowledge I had accumulated with life.
This summer was one of my best memories. Sally would date me for six months until she met John, who Ironically was my best friend. I didn’t mind as I was young and the temptations were many. Sally and John would marry seven years later and have a small family. Funny enough, I was the best man at their wedding.
I came back to the moment and melted in her eyes. Damn, she was beautiful, so young and Innocent.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just daydreaming.”
“Thought we lost you for a minute. Be a hun and put my last crate in the truck.” She smiles again.
I replayed the day as I remembered. Hefting the box with mine and loaded them into the bed of the truck. When Steve took off, she would grab me, and we would race into the fields.
I waited and but she didn’t grab my hand like my memory told. I turned to see her standing in the field. The rows of green separating her from my growing desire.
She lifted her top off as the cloud of dust swept past my vision. Her black bra in stark contrast to her tanned skin. She knelt in the dirt; her torso lost to the vegetation, all the while I salivated on the path. She lifted the bra in the air and beckoned me with a finger.
I could fell my manhood pressing against my shorts and though back to my father’s words.
“It’s a right of passage; it will make you a man.”
I chuckled as I jumped over the blueberries plants losing my clothes as I went. I may have been an amateur the first time but I sure wasn’t anymore, and I was going to fuck her brains out.
I fell beside her, and she gasped at my bouncing little me. Her sweet sweat and perfume intoxicated me better than any drug. I climbed on top, and she pushed on my shoulders.
“Not so fast, you’ve got to be gentle with me.”
I slowed my racing mind and reigned myself in. She guided me in and again I lost myself. She moaned and pushed against me, the rhythm, the smells all pulling at me, stripping me back to a primal man. I pushed harder, and I heard her moan turn to a gasp and then to one tinged with pain.
“Dan, stop, it hurts.”
I didn’t listen, how could I? I was lost in the moment, and who cared anyway, it was just that a memory.
She cried out again and I planted a hand on her chest between her ample breasts. She smacked me in the face, so I flipped her over. She wasn’t a match for me physically, I had been lifting and loading for the past six months, and my body was the leanest I would ever be.
I snarled and pushed her face into the dirt. Something primal and savage awoke inside me. I don’t know if it was the drink before at the bar or something else, whatever it was it overpowered me. I pulled out and aligned it to her other virginity. I took that too, and it wasn’t long before I exploded.
Sally cried in the dirt as I stood over her, sweat dripped from my face and fell to the tilled earth. I watched as her bottom wobbled as she sobbed, the world around me blurred, and I slowly came back to the bar.
The bartender nodded as if he had witnessed the whole thing through my facial features.
I smiled as the memory left me depleted. The alcohol slowly came back to me as I tried to stand. Wobbly at first, but my strength returned.
“Lust.” The barmen spoke over the taps as he pulled a pint for a new stranger.
He placed the green pint before him, and he eagerly drained it.
“Your drink, it was Lust. What will you choose next.” He raised an eyebrow and his head crinkled.
I chuckled then said, “maybe another time.”
He called to my back as I pushed the door open.
“Six more until redemption. See you tomorrow, Daniel.”
It didn’t strike me how he knew my name, I probably drunkenly told him. It didn’t matter.
The next morning I was supposed to meet up with John for a few holes of golf. I tried ringing, but he didn’t pick up. I decided to drive around and pick him up anyway.
John called half way to his. So I pulled over to answer.
“Dan, what the fuck man?”
“Get your lazy arse out of bed. We going golf or what?”
“Golf?” Johns’ voice crackled from sleep, but I could hear the confusion in his voice.
“Yeah golf, was you that drunk last night that you forgot?”
“Dan, I haven’t seen you for since college, is this some kind of joke?”
It was my time to be confused. I had left John and a few others in the bar before I had found the flyer.
“Haha, Fuck me mate, you must still be pissed. It’s me, John, your best mate, best man at yours and Sally’s wedding. Remember?”
“Sally? What are you talking about? My wife’s Jenny, and you weren’t my best man, Dan. We haven’t seen each other in years.”
The night in the bar came back to me, and I let the phone drop into my lap. Had I changed something? Had my actions changed the course of history?
I raced home and jumped onto the laptop. I searched Facebook for Sally, but I couldn’t find her page. I tried searching for Dan and found his page. But where Sally should have been in a wedding picture, a red-haired lady that I didn’t recognize took her place.
My mind started to race as I tried to piece together my past life. I searched google for Sally’s name, and an article popped up. I checked the date and found it was around the time I was on my uncle’s farm.
Sally had been found dead in my uncle’s Steve’s field. She had been murdered. A cold feeling gripped my stomach. Was it real? Did this drink actually allow me to change my past?
Well, one thing was certain. I never killed her. I scanned the article for any other information. The murderer had been caught and jailed a day later. Tony, my uncle’s worker was found guilty of the crime and sentenced to death.
The cold ran to my heart. How could it have been Tony? Still, relief slowly pierced the dread in my heart. If Tony did it, then it wasn’t me.
I’m telling you this so I can work it out myself. Tonight I’m going back to that bar and making the bartender talk. I need to know if I caused what happened to Sally and why my life is different now. I’ll tell you what happens tomorrow.