Lights Over Libations

A science fiction short story from The Lewis Town Chronicles.

Shortly after Sully’s Bar & Grill opened for lunch, Sam Patterson bulldozed through the rear entrance, walked straight over to the first barstool, sat down and ordered a beer. Seated, his toes almost touched the floor and his imposing frame cast a shadow long and wide. The barmaid, Cass, wiped off the counter in front of him, laid down a napkin and noticed the emptiness in his eyes. With that brief interaction she understood his hefty build and disposition could make for a terrible, no good, very bad day.

“One moment there, dear, the main tap line is clogged and I need to call Sully to come fix it,” Cass said.

“I’m not stupid, Cassidy. You know who I am, and you know why I’m here. A beer. Now,” Sam said, his voice bouncing off the hardwood floors and cedar plank walls.

“I don’t have to serve you, Sam, but I’m well aware I’m not in a position to stop you either. I’ll get your beer and I’m still calling Sully.”

“Suit yourself.”

Cass grabbed a tall glass with a distressed Black Label Beer emblem from behind the counter, leaned it up against the draft nozzle and watched Sam’s face go flush as froth formed on top of the golden elixir. She scraped off the foam with a skimmer and set down the beer, expecting him to pound it. Instead, he closed his eyes, nursed a few sips and let a warm sensation tickle through his blood stream.

“Burger and fries.” Sam said.

“Ted is heating up the grill. Give it another ten, and then ten on top of that to make it. Medium-well is all we do. Okay by you?” Cass asked. If he responded demanding two pounds of bloody raw ground round, she would have obliged.

“Not a problem. Keep the beers coming. I’ll start a tab. And tell Sully I’m not going to cause any trouble,” Sam said.

She called from the phone in the kitchen after giving Ted, their weekend fry cook, the top slip from her order pad. While she was glad to have the company, asking Ted to do anything more than meal prep would be a useless proposition. He barely scratched nineteen with a spindly frame and wouldn’t know how to bounce a guy like Sam, nor understand Sam’s previous quibbles with the law. Telling Ted that Sam once stumbled naked and drunk down main street at the witching hour, shouting nonsense, and then discharged a handgun into multiple shop windows, might make the teenager skittish.

“Sully, you got the boat in yet?” Cass asked over the phone’s faded teal handset.

“I’m gassing her up now. But something tells me I’m not doing much fishing today,” Sully said.

“Sam Patterson just stopped in,” Cass said.

There was a brief pause. For a moment Cass thought Sully lost the signal. Every local knew cell service in Lewis Town was unreliable. It didn’t matter how many towers they put up since every home, bar, church and storefront kept a land line, sometimes two, just in case.

“You serve him?” Sully finally said.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” Cass said.

“Ah hell, okay, you want me to call the sheriff first?” Sully asked.

“That depends on how fast you can drive.”

The two ended the call and when Cass went to check on Sam, he was tending bar himself, filling up a glass with another beer by leaning all the way over the counter, stretching his arms out long, about to fumble 32 ounces of ale.

“Whoa, whoa, I got it Sam,” Cass said.

Two more men walked through the front door — Earl Park and Charles Brown — elderly, retired regulars who were the town gossips, or the barstool blowhards as Sully liked to call them behind their back. A stranger sat at the opposite end of the bar, somebody passing through or looking for a cabin rental. He dressed the part in boat shoes, khaki pants and a polo, a nearly perfect facsimile of the uppity yacht owners who could turn the place into a tourist trap.

“Welcome to Sully’s, sir, I’ll be right with you,” Cass said to the stranger. He didn’t respond except for a kind smile and she took it as a good sign he wouldn’t be a nuisance.

“Cass! You considered my marriage proposal yet?” Charles shouted across the room.

“Good grief, Charlie Brown, the woman just started working and you’re already flirting,” Earl said.

Earl spotted Sam and pointed with his eyes in Sam’s general direction, trying not to poke the bear with a sudden move. Charles raised both eyebrows. This would make for interesting conversation around the card table that evening at the lodge. It wasn’t so much that Sam’s exploits were known by all, even though they were to most, but that 300 people in an unincorporated community nestled away in northern Michigan were short on entertainment and long on memories.

Charles turned his attention to the stranger, and said, “Charles Brown, and this dirty, rotten scoundrel here is Earl Park.”

“James Webb,” the stranger said slowly, almost uncertain of his own name.

“Hey, wouldn’t you know it, just like the telescope. You wear that name proud, unlike Charlie Brown here who puts Mr. Schultz to shame,” Earl said.

“Order up!” Ted said from behind the serving hatch and placed a plate of burger and fries down. Cass picked it up, slid Sam’s beer aside and placed the food in front of him, hoping the distraction would be enough to slow his binge drinking escapade to a crawl. In an act of defiance Sam picked up the drink, guzzled the remaining liquid and pushed the empty glass toward her. He tapped the rim with his finger.

“Hey, Teddie, tuna melt and fries for me and Earl, but before you get back to it I got a question,” Charles said.

“Sure thing, Mr. Brown, what’s up?” Ted asked.

“Anyone you know go up near the bluff recently, see something strange up that way they might be too afraid to report now that it’s privately owned?” Charles asked.

“Nobody goes up there anymore, not since they barb-wired the fence and posted a twenty-four-seven guard near the entrance,” Ted said.

“That so? One man posted for nearly two thousand acres around North Twin Lake. I suspect somebody could find a way through, like a couple of lovebirds looking for adventure,” Charles said.

“Without naming names, if you’re asking about the colored lights, they’re back, but I wouldn’t trust my source,” Ted said.

Charles slammed his hand down on the bar, and exclaimed, “There it is! They’re doing some kind of experiments up there, and I bet old Albert Lewis is involved.”

“Here we go again. You just can’t let a bad rumor die. Albert Lewis, the mad scientist, murdered by his brother, Otto, but found a way to cheat death. Ted, you ignore everything Mr. Brown says. He’s been farming manure too long, and now he’s got it on the brain,” Earl said.

“Yes sir, Mr. Park,” Ted said, and tucked back into the kitchen.

“I know about the lights,” Sam said.

Everyone turned toward the man, waiting for him to cut through the thick fog of uncomfortable silence wafting over Sully’s, making it impossible to see if he was joking or serious. Sam knew he had a captive audience. To draw out the suspense, to ensure the words he spoke weren’t just the ramblings of a drunken fool, he dipped a few fries in ketchup, chewed them, took a swig of beer and started talking.

“They’re like clockwork. Every two weeks. They rise up just above the pines over North Twin Lake, ride along the tree tops, cross over Shoreline Road to South Twin Lake and disappear into the deeper waters. Nobody sees them on the south side because it’s a state park. It’s closed by nightfall, no camping, nothing but a ranger who ends his shift shortly after dusk, after clearing out any troublemakers. How convenient,” Sam said. He took a few more gulps of beer, then chewed and swallowed a bite of burger.

“Those the same lights you witnessed all those years ago?” Charles asked.

“Good lord, man, you really have no filter. Sam, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to,” Earl said.

“Why not. Everyone else does. It’s about time you all knew the truth,” Sam said, and then continued.

“Me and… Susan… were younger then, you know, she was pregnant with Luke at the time. We decided to bring a cooler into the park and sneak out a canoe onto South Twin, knowing we wouldn’t be interrupted by the pontooners that liked to party late on North Twin — sort of a celebration before starting our family. They rent those canoes, but a few folks always miss the last pickup, and the trailer has to go back and retrieve whatever’s left behind on the beach the next morning. You know what I’m saying,” Sam said to everyone, who were caught up in a spell.

“Yeah, sure, Sam, we know what you’re saying,” Earl responded, hoping it wouldn’t slow the momentum.

“All we had to do was hide out an hour or two past dark, make sure we weren’t spotted by the ranger. When we were sure he’d left, we loaded up and rowed out under the stars. I’ve never witnessed a clearer sky, not a drop of light pollution to dampen the view. We must have talked for hours, losing track of time, but happier than we’ve ever been—” Sam stopped when Sully walked out from the kitchen. Nobody said a word, waiting for two alpha dogs to lunge for the throat.

“Sam, you mind if I sit a few?” Sully said. He still had his fishing hat on, a few lucky lures stuck through, but he took it off and placed it on the counter, revealing unkempt hair around the sides and back of a balding top.

“Your place. I can’t stop you,” Sam said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Got a sponsor I can call?” Sully asked.

“Don’t need one.”

“I heard about Luke. You sure this is the best way to deal with it?”

“Yeah, what do you think you heard?”

“He took off with his high school sweetheart and with not so much as a goodbye. He’s been through a lot. I don’t blame him, but I’m sure it doesn’t help your situation much.”

Earl cleared his throat, trying to break the tension, but he couldn’t form any words. He could offer to pay Sam’s tab, drive him home to get the full story, but what he really wanted, just like Charles and Cass, was to hear it out right then and there. The truth, absent the rumor and speculation, was what he wanted more than his tuna melt, which made his stomach grumble.

“You know,” Cass said, “talking about your troubles is the best way to keep out of trouble. My grandpa used to say that. Sully, we were listening to Sam’s story. Maybe it’s best we let him finish.”

A current of excitement ran up Earl’s spine. Nice move, Cass.

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” Sully said.

Sam stared down at his plate with a few bites left of burger and fries. He took a swig of the alcohol, ate the remaining portions of greasy leftovers, and continued his story.

“I don’t know what time it was when the light show started. It could have been going on midnight. They moved along the beach, side to side, rotating around some sort of craft, reflecting off a metallic body. The strange thing is it seemed to know we were there, waiting patiently for us to leave, but we were glued to that canoe. It eventually stopped, just hovered at a standstill with no sound or nothing. Then it moved toward us, real slow,” Sam said, taking another swig of beer.

Sam looked up at Cass with sad, apologetic eyes, and that brute she witnessed storm into the place softened into a lost child wandering around the supermarket looking for his mother.

“I’m sorry, Cass, to scare you. A man goes through something and it changes him. Either makes him real mean or crushes his spirit, or in my case a little bit of both, I guess,” Sam said.

“Don’t you worry about it. You keep talking and I promise we’ll keep listening,” Cass said.

“That thing got real close to me and Susan. We were too scared by then to do much. You could smell the electricity in the air, needling my skin, making my hair stand on end. It had to be the width of two or three school buses, but it was hard to tell because the lights around it had shut off, leaving only a mirrored surface. It sank lower and lower until it was fully submerged underwater without causing a single ripple. It disappeared completely. Me and Susan turned to each other and laughed, a couple of school kids, until…,” Sam paused.

“Don’t leave us hanging now, man, until what?” Charles asked. Nobody interrupted, just as anxious to hear the conclusion.

“A sickly green light lit up the water beneath the canoe. It started shaking, rocking back and forth until it tipped. The next thing I knew I was walking Main Street downtown, no clothes on after a dozen beers, a crazed gunmen shouting about conspiracies. I just don’t know how I got there. Susan showed up a day later at the house, couldn’t remember a single thing, not one thing about our night together,” Sam said.

“I remember hearing bits and pieces. Sheriff couldn’t figure out what to make of you. He phoned Montmorency County General, had them send over the on call doctor, but was tight lipped about everything else. Susan, did she eventually remember? Is that what made things so difficult between you two?” Earl asked.

Sam’s pupils shrunk, the life leaving them as spots formed in front of tunnel vision. He wavered on the stool, a reed in the wind and lost his balance as he tried to stand.

“Whoa, big fella,” Sully said, “You better sit for a spell and then I’ll drive you home.”

“I… it was nice of you all to listen. I’ve not been feeling right today, a bit short of…,” Sam said and huffed out a long breath. He collapsed to the ground in a crash as his plate and beer glass tumbled over the counter. Everyone in the bar ran to offer assistance, even Ted who heard the noise of breaking glass. Sully felt for Sam’s pulse and put his hand up to his nose.

“He’s not breathing. Does anyone now CPR?” Sully asked, but was met with blank stares.

“Ted, call the Sheriff and tell him to get over here quick,” Sully said.

A few brief moments passed — a near eternity to everyone else — before Ted came back out and said, “The land line is down. I’m just getting static, and no service on my cell either.”

All of them pulled out their cell phones, overwhelmed by the complete lack of signal, unable to think straight. They could drag Sam out, put him in a vehicle and drive him, a prospect that made Sully nervous the more he thought about trying to move a man of Sam’s size. As they stood watching, helpless, James Webb got up from his stool and approached. Everyone part like a shallow puddle against a strong wind, letting him join their circle around Sam, hoping he might guide them through a lifesaving procedure.

“Your friend. He’ll live,” James said.

“I don’t know what party you’re attending, but unless we can get him out of here, he’s breathed his last,” Charles said.

James knelt down beside Sam and placed his hand on his chest. One-by-one he looked up into the faces of Ted, Cass, Sully, Earl and Charles.

“Please, each of you place one hand on Samuel’s body,” James said.

Ted knelt down immediately and did as told with childlike obedience, moving two bar stools away in the process so he could lightly touch Sam’s shoe, an action that prompted Cass to do the same. Sully hesitated and ultimately decided it couldn’t hurt. With a stern countenance he stared at Earl and Charles, knowing they would be the hardest to convince. Charles grunted when he knelt beside Sam, touching his arm. Earl stayed put.

“I’m sorry, but my bad knee. I can’t kneel like that anymore, but I would if I could,” Earl said.

James held out his other hand toward Earl, who understood the gravity of what was being asked, and held it in return. The instant the two locked their grip, a shock of current swept through Earl’s body and the rest of the folks, including Sam. Electricity. The distinct smell penetrated their nostrils while bright waves of iridescent color flashed in front of their eyes. Sam inhaled deeply, out and in several times slowly, and then opened his eyes. He turned toward James.

“I know you,” Sam whispered.

James smiled, got up and thanked Cass for the hospitality, even though he never ordered anything. He walked out of the bar without another word, leaving the group to gather their wits. A thunderous, rumbling sound was heard from the parking lot. Sully ran outside and stared up into the clear blue afternoon sky. He caught a glimpse of a metallic object dancing through the clouds. It disappeared. When he returned to the building, Sam was standing by his own volition.

“You know him?” Sully asked.

“That night, in town, after the canoe trip. He was watching from the shadows,” Sam said.

“Following you?” Earl asked.

“No, I think protecting me,” Sam said.

“From what?” Charles asked.

“If I knew, maybe Susan and Luke wouldn’t have left,” Sam said.

Cass put her hand on Sam’s arm, a soft touch to help ease his loss and invite him into a new group of friends.

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Happy New Year faithful reader! The Lewis Town Chronicles is a science fiction anthology I am compiling for 2024. Lewis Town is a mysterious, unincorporated community in northern Michigan, full of supernatural occurrences, paranormal incidents and secrets untold. Until now.