The Last Bar by James MacEachern
 (4 ratings)
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SUMMARY: This is my submission for the "Mostly Dialogue Flash fiction contest." I hope you enjoy."Hey their friend, you're looking a little wobbly in the legs. Come, sit at the bar with me a minute."
"I, ah. I don't know how I got here."
"I get that way sometimes, usually early, and after drinking late. Sit, I'll have the bartender grab you a beer, on me."
"Um, okay. Sorry, I'm a bit outta sorts right now."
"Well, you're with the right sort now, and a beer to boot. So, what's your name?"
"Tom, Tom Peterson."
"Good to meet you Tom. Drink up, and call me Hank."
"Nice to meet you too Hank, my dad's name was Hank. They have really good beer in this place."
"Yup."
" Uh Hank?"
"Yeah."
"I can't remember getting here, and, uh, I don't remember getting dressed or driving. Should I go to the hospital? The last thing I remember is brushing my teeth."
"A good habit that, and no Tom, I don't think you need a doctor. A rest will probably do ya."
"Yeah, a rest. Man, this beer goes down smooth."
"Best beer in all creation, have another."
"No, umm, I gotta to go. I should be at work. I think? What day is it today?"
"It's Wednesday Tom. But no work for you today. You should really have another beer."
"Yes their's work today. Wednesday! I've got to go. What time is it? I'm late."
"Oh, you're late alright Tom. You're the late Tom Peterson."
"The what?"
"Your dead Tom."
"Bullshit Hank. I might be in a bit of a fog. But I certainly don't feel dead."
"And what does dead feel like?"
"Don't really know, but not like this!"
"Oh! So death couldn't feel like showing up in a strange bar you've never seen and can't remember getting to where a stranger buys you free drinks and eases you into the truth."
"I'm dead?"
"Fraid so."
"How?"
"Heart attack, while you were brushing your teeth this morning, actually. I told you to have another beer, helps with the shock."
"I see how it would. So tell me Hank. If I'm dead, what happen if a go back outside?"
"There is no outside Tom. If you try to exit that door, you'll find yourself entering the bar again. I'm told the experience is, unsettling."
"So this is it! This is the afterlife, you and me in a bar."
"Ha! That's pretty funny. Sounds kinda nice if they don't run out of beer. Bartender, two more!"
"Then what?"
"If you look over my shoulder you'll see a white swinging door. Looks like it goes into the kitchen, it doesn't."
"What happens if I stay here."
"You either pass out from drinking or exhaustion. Then the bartender picks you up and throws you through the door."
"Really?"
"Haven't seen it, but heard of it happening a time or two."
"Where does it go?"
"Different places for different people Tom. It's like this bar, for some people it's a field, or forest. I meet a guy who told me that for him, it was a baseball stadium. His old man was in the bleachers, and helped him with the news."
"I wonder where my dad is?"
"Is he dead?"
"Yeah. My mother told me he died in a car accident when I was just a baby."
"Well then, he's got to be around somewhere. I you really want to find him, you will. Seems to be the nature of these things."
"That would be nice. So is this heaven? Is God here?"
"Whoa Tom! That's a sixer."
"A sixer?"
"Yup, six beer minimum before we get into that kind of discussion. Not that I know much about it. It's just that after six beers I feel particularly wise."
"Thanks Hank."
"For what?"
"Helping me with this, you've been a real friend."
"Been? You leaving so soon? You've only had three beer."
"I'm good. Sober enough to move, and drunk enough to be brave. I think it's time."
"Well Tom, It's been nice meeting. Maybe I'll see you around."
"I'd like that. Goodbye Hank."
"See ya Tom."
"Bartender!"
"Yeah?"
"Another."
"So that's your boy? You must be in the good books if they let you do his transition."
"Not so much. It's the bad books for me. I ran out on the misses when he was just a baby. They know I ain't got the balls to tell him who I am. So here I am."
"Now what?"
"Now, I drink until I'm convinced I'm not a coward."
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