Daniel Klein

Chapter 1: The Barkeep

Leopold, a thirty-year-old barkeep, stood behind the polished mahogany counter of a dimly lit second floor bar. His eyes, weary from years of watching patrons express their sorrows, scanned the room for the potential customers of the night. It had been six successive years since the last time he served alcohol here. Somehow the people keep coming back and somehow the lights stay on. He despised his job, a sentiment compounded by his aversion to alcohol and the havoc it wreaked on the lives of all those begging him for a drink. Yet, he stayed, bound by circumstance and a strange sense of duty to watch over the precious drink that was laid on display behind him.

The night was young, and the tavern began to fill with its usual clientele. The clinking of empty glasses and murmurs of conversation created a familiar noise of intrigue. All of the patrons were plotting how they would get the liquor behind the bar. 

Leopold wiped a glass absently awaiting the first attempt to procure a drink of the night. His mind was wandering to thoughts of a different life, one far removed from the endless cycle of intoxication he witnessed daily. He imagined a life where he could cultivate his own health rather than being the guardian against self-destruction.

Chapter 2: The Homeless Man

The first customer approached the bar—a homeless man named Charlie. His clothes were tattered, his face etched with lines of stress. They said life on the streets was free; he looked none the part. With trembling hands, he placed a crumpled wad of bills on the counter. The total equaled the amount necessary to purchase a good bottle of whiskey indeed.

“Whiskey, please, a bottle, please” Charlie rasped, his voice a blend of desperation and hope that today he may finally earn a drink from Leopold. Many long years on the street had worn his voice paper thin. He could not maintain this conversation for long should Leopold not succumb to the demand immediately.

Leopold eyed the money, then looked at Charlie with a mixture of pity and frustration. “Charlie, I can’t serve you. You’ll just get drunk and pass out here. It’s more trouble than it’s worth. You must think of others when you wish to do something.”

Charlie’s face fell. He had worked all week to earn enough for this moment. He needed a reason to stump the barkeep. Why was it in this case he could act with abandon and not care for the good of the people around him? Leopold’s refusal was resolute. His stare was enough to render the words of Charlie meaningless. With a defeated sigh, Charlie gathered his money and shuffled out of the bar, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Leopold watched him go, his conscience heavy. He was aware of Charlie’s plight. He knew that the man had lost his while family a few months back, a wife and three children.  The man soothed his problems with liquour. To have a drink here in this bar might begin to set things right. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to contribute to that downfall, no matter how much Charlie pleaded and begged for just that one pour. The depressed man was perhaps off to try another bar. Leopold wondered if those bars had the same policy as him.

Leopold picked up the glass that Charlie was demanding he fill. He polished it and put it right back in its place.

Chapter 3: The Woman in Despair

The next to approach was a young woman. Her beauty was enough to make any man fall for her. A bright glow shone from her skin. You could feel happiness when looking at her. This is a rare quality for those here. This intrigued Leopold and he was willing to humor her attempt to get a drink from him. She ordered two shots of vodka, one for herself and one for her absent companion. Leopold asked her for her name, “Lisa.” “Well Lisa,” he said stoutly, “I do not know if you know the policy around here but I serve no one for any reason. You may have some water, but alcohol is something that I will never give. You may have your reason, but it shall do little to persuade me.”

“Please, just two shots,” Lisa pleaded, her voice starting to break. “My date needs the courage. I know he loves me so.”

Leopold shook his head. “Lisa, you don’t need vodka to bring the love out of a man. He needs to find the strength in himself, not in a shot glass. Would you really want him anyways if he could not announce his love without blinding intoxication?”

Tears streamed down Lisa’s face as she launched into a monologue about her fear of never feeling affection. She thought that liquid courage could solve her problem so quickly. Leopold listened, his heart aching for her fear was genuine, but he stood as firm as always. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m saving you from something much worse.”

Lisa’s sobs echoed in the bar as she stumbled away towards the door. She had abandoned her date knowing already how it was to end. The scene left Leopold feeling guilty. He knew he was right, but still hated seeing anyone in pain.

Chapter 4: King Peter

The night wore on, and the final customer of the night approached. He was an imposing figure known as King Peter, a local eccentric with a reputation for gestures as large as he was tall. He strode to the bar, his presence commanding the attention of all.

“I want your finest cognac,” King Peter declared, placing a substantial sum on the counter. “It’s for my uncle, who’s on his deathbed. I want his last moments to be joyful.”

Leopold hesitated, the rare cognac’s value would bring a hefty profit into a bar he knew had to be failing at this point. The gesture surely was in earnest, but he needed to combat his initial desire to serve King Peter somehow. “If your grandfather drinks this, it will shorten his life.”

King Peter’s gaze was steady. “A few more days without joy are worthless. He deserves to enjoy his final moments.”

Leopold’s usual justifications faltered to King Peter’s unassailable logic. “But reliance on a drink for happiness shows a weak will,” Leopold argued with a bit of fluster.

King Peter smiled wryly. “What do you think of coffee and tea, Leopold?”

Leopold  reached for the cognac, prepared to sell, but King Peter’s next words stopped him.

“I won’t take it unless you enjoy giving it to me. Do you?”

Leopold shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t.”

King Peter nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. “Then I won’t take it.” He turned and left, leaving Leopold with the untouched bottle. The barkeep was unsure whether he had been defeated or not.

Chapter 5: The Owner

As the door shut behind King Peter, Leopold sighed and began to close the bar. Once the menial tasks were done, he poured himself a glass of the coveted cognac and stared. He pondered if the amber liquid held the answer to whether King Peter had defeated him or not. Could everyone else be right and he be wrong? He was tempted, deeply so, but he resisted, the internal battle evident on a visage torn.

From the safety of a security camera, the bar’s owner watched, a bemused expression on his face. “When will you finally take a drink?” the owner spoke aloud in an empty room. “I hope never. I could forever watch this struggle.”nThe owner laughed softly. “He’s more virtuous than I ever was. This is all that I will give him.”

Leopold, unaware of his audience, continued to stare at the cognac, tears welling up in his eyes. He fought the urge to the effect of great pain. His principles warred with his desires to taste what so many people had asked him for. After half an hour of watching mental anguish, the owner finally turned away. Sometimes the pain was too great to watch. Occasional instances of ethical doubt were quelled by the eternal refuge in the fact that the struggle was of priceless value to the owner. Should the owner ever feel too poorly, he could always turn to the barkeep who would not sell alcohol to make himself feel better.

Chapter 6: The Days of Health Concurrent

Long after King Peter left and the owner had turned away from the camera, Leopold stood alone in the quiet comfy tavern. Warm sofas of red adorned a mostly wooden room. The cognac he had poured was no longer good he told himself and threw it out with great haste. The barkeep gave a sigh, paused, and spoke aloud for no one but a mouse to hear.

“All I want for these people are days of health concurrent. Could they stop their demands for alcohol for just a year and I would serve them all gladly. They are not in control of their own facilities however. They lost the means to dictate their life in anything besides a cycle of consumption. When the day ends, they will drink. When the week ends, they will drink. When something happens at all, positive or negative,  then they will respond with drink. The most powerful cycle is life. Yet, they have replaced life with alcohol.” Leopold took a breathe contemplating his next words as if he had one chance to get his point across.

“This is why I cannot answer King Peter well. My humanity tells me that I must honor the end of life. As part of my innate being, I must cherish the life force of money and I too must respect death. I know this, but I know that I must fight it. Serving King Peter would just have been like serving Lisa.” Leopold now drew a smile knowing he had solved the problem

“If only they would just follow me, they could transcend human existence. King Peter’s uncle need not die when he can live forever. When they do not follow, they will ultimately suffer. I cannot prove that, but I know certainly so.” 

Now the real pain began with the ultimate question. 

“Why won’t they do what they must?”