Lost At Sea

Entry by: percypop

8th April 2015

“I was a sailor lost at sea…I was under the waves before love rescued me”
Jono hummed the line as he reviewed the girls sitting at the bar just waiting for a look from him. Seemed like a reasonable line for chat since he’d been singing it just some minutes ago.
As lead singer he always had first pick at the venue and tonight he felt good and horny. As he took another sip from the cold beer to lift his spirits he thought:

“Christ it hurts these days –each gig’s a punishment, but think of the treats”
So he took a Vocal Zone to soothe his tired throat.

Running his eye down the line of possibles, it arrived on a small dark haired girl perched at the end of the bar. She had a cute figure and nice smile which was less brassy than most of the others; plus she seemed easily available for less effort. He slipped off his stool and sat at one of the booths at the back of the bar. When she turned to smile he nodded her over.She hesitated for about half a second then slid off the stool and made a bee line for the booth.
He forgot his chat line and said :

“Saw you in the blues number”

“ What ? Lost at sea ,was you?” Her snap response trumped his opening .

“So, you keen on BB or just blues front men in general?”

“not specially, I work here and get free gigs.”

Her frank reply was more than he expected and not doing his ego much boost. Jono felt that the magic was drifting out of the evening and he’d picked the wrong one, perhaps brassy was best after all. Still, he was a lover not a fighter and the night wasn’t over.

“Have a drink girl and tell us your name”

“Carla” There was a moment’s silence, then she said quietly

“ I’ve got cold beers at my place and it’s a lot quieter than this dump.”

Lights flashed through Jono’s mind--uppers in his back pocket—not much cash----stories for the band next day—what’s to lose?
With just a second’s hesitation, he brushed his blond locks back out of his eyes and moved his snake skin jeans just that little bit closer to her thighs.

“ Your old man may not like it” his cool gaze looked deep, so deep into her eyes.

“He’s off in Afghanistan, not over the road in a pub” she countered and her style seemed to challenge him to dare a little.

The band had just about had it and were leaving with or without company. Ginger the drummer passed on his way out and tipped a cool finger to his front man as he passed, winding through the tables following a chunky brunette. The bouncers and cleaners began the close down routine so Jono saw the time to move.

“Ok, your place seems fine. Is it far ?”

Carla smiled “just across the road” and she linked her arm in his as they strolled a few yards to a door in a parade of shops. Upstairs she opened the fridge and pulled out a pack of beers.

“I’ll be back in a mo” she said and disappeared.
Jono popped a beer and stripped to his t shirt.
“Not a bad pitch, nice and clean and handy” he thought as he popped an upper to make sure the occasion turned out OK.
She came back a bit unsteady and he guessed she had done something similar. Her eyes were brighter but her pupils seems smaller.

“Well sailor “she grinned “Shall I rescue you ?”

He felt that warm feeling as the pill began to smooth his path to nirvana and the room got larger and larger by the second.
Whoa. this is moving too fast ! what’s in this thing? His thoughts began to whirl and fragment. He could see the girl at his side but her face was obscured. She seemed to speak but was mute as if behind a glass wall.

“Get down- Get down you silly fucker”
a voice shouted at him “they’re in that watch tower at eleven o’clock”
he saw a helmeted figure at his side pushing him down. He froze in a crouch as a burst of AK47 cut through the dusty brick only inches above his head. Again he looked at the soldier, the stripes on his arm clearly British.

“What shall I do?” he screamed
but the sound never came out. Another terrifying burst of gunfire shattered his ears and he flung himself down hitting the grit with an impact that winded him.

“Keep still and I’ll protect you” the sergeant kneeled over him and fired back at the sniper.

A whirl of coloured lights surrounded him and gradually the vision dissolved. He found himself in a bed sitter in Bury above a shop with a girl beside him. What was her name? Clare ?Clara? fuck knows –she was asleep and dawn was near. He crept out of bed and grabbed his denim--- his jeans were still on him and he made for the door.
The image of the sergeant in Afghanistan still active in his brain. Her boyfriend? Her husband? -- risking his life for an unknown band singer?
Out in the street he felt cold and a little ashamed.