MORNING SERIAL
“I just wanted to speak to your boss,” I muttered at him. “No need to make a big deal out of it.”
Everything calmed down and I leaned back on my stool and gazed out of the bar toward the square hoping averting eye contact would diffuse the situation. But he clicked his fingers at me.
“I am sorry, sir,” he was saying, and he was pouring another beer. “Please, sir, I am sorry. I was very rude, please accept this beer.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said, but he insisted.
“My English,” he said and shook his head. “I thought you were looking to make trouble.”
“No trouble,” I said. “I met your boss yesterday, and Veronika. I thought they could help me out with a few things.”
He put the beer in front of me on a paper tab.
“My boss, he will be in Napa tonight,” he said. “You can find him in Napa.”
“A night off?”
The man laughed. “Oh, no, Furkan never has a night off. He has many businesses. Tonight he is in Napa.”
“And Veronika?”
He shrugged.
“Where in Napa will I find Furkan?”
“Impossible to say. He has four bars. Ask around.”
“Napa has a bit of a reputation,” I said. He looked as though he only half understood. “It is a lively place,” I said.
He laughed his detached condescending laugh.
“Oh yes,” he said.
“Will I be okay down there? I am not as young as I used to be.” That laugh again.
“Napa is Napa, you know?” Napa is Napa. Indeed it was. It was early evening when I reached the main drag by taxi, and was met by a regiment of young girls handing out flyers for the array of bars and clubs along the strip. Like a poor swimmer getting into ice cold water, I went for the first rock I could hold on to and ducked into a sports bar at the top end and ordered a Cypriot lager. I didn’t really notice, but the barman was an older guy, who on speaking offered up his thick Irish brogue.
> The Golden Orphans by Gary Raymond is published by Parthian www.parthianbooks. com