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The Brawl

A wave of regret washed over Mills as he stood in the middle of the Kildare Tavern. The place was dark, dank and smelled of stale beer and other odors he didn’t want to try and identify.

“You were right,” he said to Mahoney. “It is a dump.”

Mahoney climbed onto the bar and started feeling around by the old TV that sat on a shelf high above the room.

“Any chance you’re going to tell me what you’re doing?” Mills asked.

“I’ll bet you he’s got cameras in here,” he said.

“Cameras?” Mills asked.

“Yeah, I think I finally figured out Reuben’s angle,” Mahoney said. “Remember how he represented that big reality show producer when the guy got divorced?”

“So, you think this is all a reality show?”

“Absolutely,” Mahoney said. “Think about it, Reuben comes to us out of the blue and tells us about this bar. Then just gives it to us. You don’t see something wrong here?”

“No,” Mills said.

“I can see the ad for it now. Two long time enemies have to work together to forge new careers”

Mills shook his head. “That’s a stupid idea.”

“Hey, stop with the stupid, okay?” Mahoney yelled. “First, I’m a hack. Then you call me an idiot in Sterling’s office, and now I’m stupid. I don’t like being called names.”

“I didn’t say you were stupid.”

“You did too,” Mahoney said, jumping off the bar.

“I said your idea was stupid.”

“It’s in the neighborhood,” Mahoney said.

A rap on the front door ended the back and forth and Mills went to answer it. He opened the door and a man stepped in and introduced himself.

“Keith Brown here,” he said.

Mills introduced Brown to Mahoney, and explained how he was a general contractor recommended by Mills’ brother-in-law, who while thinking the idea of Jerry being a bar owner was laughable and scary, did know of a good contractor when asked.

“I’m going to take a look around,” Brown said, leaving the partners.

Mills felt Mahoney’s big hand yank him by the arm as soon as Brown was out of earshot.

“Hey, I got a problem with this,” Mahoney said.

“And I got a problem with you touching me,” Mills said, shaking his arm free.

“You went out and hired a contractor?”

“He’s not hired,” Mills said.

“Okay, you went out and found a contractor and asked him to come by. All without asking me?”

“So what?”

“So what?” Mahoney said. “You want to be partners, then we do things partner-like, understand?”

“So, let’s see,” Mills said. “If we follow that all the way through then every decision, no matter how small, has to be discussed?”

“Damn straight,” Mahoney said, poking him in the chest. “You want to change the toilet paper, we need to talk about it first. Understand, partner?”

“Hey,” Brown said from the back of the bar, “Whichever toilet paper you decide on would be fine. There’s nothing in that bathroom now.”

“We’ll finish this later, Phil,” Mills said. He turned to Brown and said, “What do you think, Keith?”

“Place needs a lot of work. That back room, I think it was an office, looks like it was looted. That’s assuming there was anything in there worth taking. Holes in the wall and all kinds of junk thrown around,” he said.

“Typical contractor crap,” Mahoney said, turning to Mills. “He’s going to try and soak us. We should have discussed this guy first.”

“Give him a chance,” Mills said. “We need someone.”

“What we need is a second opinion,” Mahoney said.

“Okay,” Brown said, “You also got termites. I’ll even throw in another opinion because I’m in a generous mood. Your plumbing sucks. You got a puddle in the bathroom.”

“How much will it cost to get this place in shape?” Mills asked.

“What kind of shape?” Brown asked.

“The kind of shape where human beings can come and have a drink,” Mahoney said.

“Hard to say,” Brown said. “I’d have to do a detailed inspection of the place and give you an estimate.”

“And let me guess,” Mahoney said, “That’s all going to cost us. The estimate, and your time.”

“Naturally,” the contractor said.

Mills caught Mahoney staring at him with the same smug, know-it-all, look the man used to have down at the City Hall press conferences. But now Mills didn’t have to take it. He was free to say what he wanted.

“Don’t give him grief, Phil. We’ll discuss the cost later,” Mills said.

“Screw you,” Mahoney said. “You don’t tell me when I can speak and not speak.”

Brown looked from Mills to Mahoney and said, “You guys been partners long?”

“Shut up,” Mahoney snapped.

“Hey, close your yap, Phil,” Mills yelled. “This isn’t some newsroom.”

“How the hell would you know what that’s like? You never worked under deadline pressure in your life.”

“Don’t talk to me about pressure, you…you big jerk,” Mill said. “I worked under plenty of pressure, and guess what? Unlike you, I always had my facts straight.”

“You guys are actually in business together?” Brown asked.

Mills felt all the years of abuse from Mahoney bubbling up inside him. The headaches late in the afternoon and evening, worrying about the column that was coming out criticizing his boss.

“You were a lousy columnist, Phil,” Mills said.

“And you were a numb nuts mouthpiece for a corrupt politician, Jerry. How’s it feel to have been the PR guy for the mayor who was sent to prison?”
“Hey, you worked for Walker?” Brown asked, looking at Mills. “Wow, this is good.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were in on it, Jerry,” Mahoney said. “You know, maybe you got a little kickback on some of those city contracts.”

Mills jaw tightened and his heart raced. “How dare you,” he said.

“Hit a nerve, huh,?” Mahoney asked.

“You ignorant buffoon,” Mils yelled.

“Maybe you’re a felon just like your boss,” Mahoney said.

Mills bolted toward Mahoney and threw a wild roundhouse punch and yelled, “You fat son of a bitch.”

Mahoney stepped aside and said, “You call that a punch? Hah. This is a punch.”

Mahoney hit him with solid shot right in his stomach and Mills gasped and doubled over in pain. It felt like all the oxygen had suddenly left the room. Then he heard a voice from the side. It belonged to Brown.

“Nice form.”

“Thank you,” Mahoney said. “Jerry’s roundhouse by the way, was one of the worst punches I’ve ever seen thrown, by a man or a woman.”

Mills gulped some air and straightened up. He saw Mahoney a few feet away and charged him like a bull.

“Awwwwwrgghhhhhhh,” he yelled.

“He’s possessed,” Mahoney yelled.

Mills lowered his shoulder and hit Mahoney full force, lifting the bigger man off his feet and drove him back toward the bar. It was exhilarating. The feeling he had playing linebacker in high school when he blitzed the quarterback.

“Would you look at that,” Brown said as they flew past. “Small, but powerful.”

“Whoaaaaaaa,” Mahoney said.

“Arrrgggghhhhhh,” Mills yelled.

Mills stiffened, expecting a bone-crushing impact when they hit the bar. Instead, the two of them crashed right through it, the brittle wood splintering and flying all around them. They slammed into the shelves of liquor and the mirrored wall behind the bar and everything stopped.

There was a second of quiet before Mills heard the creaking from the shelves of bottles above them. Then there was a slow, squeaking as old nails began to pull away from the wall.

“It’s a house of cards,” Brown said.

The wood snapped, bottles slid forward and there was tremendous boom as everything cascaded down around them.

“Oh no, the mirror,” Brown said. “That one’s going to hurt.”

There was more creaking and squeaking and then the big bar mirror separated from the wall and pitched forward crashing over them. It took ten seconds, maybe more, for all the noise to stop, and an eerie silence to settle over them.

“Phil, you okay?” Mills asked.

No response. “Phil?” he asked again.

Finally, a voice. “That was one hell of a tackle,” Mahoney said.

“Hold on, fellas, don’t move yet,” Brown said.

Somewhere above them, in a far corner, more wood was cracking.

“Here comes the TV,” the contractor said. “It’s one of those big old ones with the tubes.”

The creaking grew louder.

“Oh, mother of mercy,” Brown said.

It sounded as if a meteorite had crashed through the roof as the big TV fell and smashed to the floor.

“I’m gonna let you two guys sort this out,” Brown said. “But I’m coming in with a low bid. I really want this job. No way I’m missing out on this.”

The front door opened, then slammed shut as the contractor left.

Published inFictionMahoney & Mills