(Page 1 of 2) Over There by Jim WashburnSUMMARY: January flash fiction entry
The old veteran stared into the dark liquid, watching the bubbles rise and form a frothy head at the top of the glass. Guinness beer is the best he has often been known to say.
"Hey dude, are you dreaming or has your hearing finally gone bad?" a reedy young voice sounded from nearby..........
The young soldier stared dubiously at the bubbles roiling inside the glass sitting on the venerable old bar. He was still unsure about this bitter, dark beer his English friends had introduced him to.
"Oi mate, are you asleep over there?" A deep, friendly voice broke in. "I thought you could ‘ear everything? Those birds I met last night ‘ot a be ‘ere soon.".
Turning toward his companion he smiled and clapped Bart on the shoulder.
"I hear great according to the Army. I'm not sure about these ‘birds' of yours. Are they canaries or parrots?"
"Blimey mate, you Yanks talk funny." Bart laughed. It was a long running joke between them.
The door opened and people turned to look at the newcomers. Behind them the street was pitch dark. The women looked around and spotted Bart. They waved and came over while other soldiers sighed and returned to their drinks.
Bart introduced Vera and Abby and they ordered drinks.
"Is your name really Joe, like GI Joe?" Vera asked with a giggle.
"Yes, somebody has to be named Joe. Call me Joseph if you want, I just won't answer."
Everyone laughed. The evening was off to a fine start.
"You seem familiar Abby, where do you work?" Joe inquired.
"At the Infirmary. I took the glass out of your arm last month. I guess I'm not important enough to remember." She answered with a small pout.
Instantly he placed her and realized why he wanted to talk to her rather than Vera. She had impressed him, but without expecting to seeing her again. Suddenly he felt shy and very unlike himself.
"I'm sorry." Was all he could mumble.
"Don't be. I might see ten soldiers an hour, but I remember you, talking about Pittsburgh." She looked at him and smiled, no trace remained of her earlier pout. He smiled back. The four of them moved to a vacated table nearby.
"Why don't you sound like Bart?" He asked later. "I can barely understand him sometimes."
"Don't let him fool you. Bart is Oxford educated, not the street urchin he pretends to be" Vera answered instead.
""Ere now! Wot's this load ‘o rubbish y'r telling me mate?" Bart asked, but without actually denying anything.
"Well.... He's not fooling me, really. Sometimes he slips and sounds normal. I don't say anything because he would be embarrassed." Everyone erupted in laughter and Bart's ears turned a bit red but he laughed as hard as anyone.
The evening wore on. The clamor of many people trying to enjoy themselves almost drowned out the occasional, unmistakable sounds of war outside. At least there were no sirens.
The four people drifted into being two couples with an occasional suggestion for more drinks or a joke that had to be shared.
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