Haunting

“Peanuts! Get your peanuts!” A thick Boston accent vibrated through the stands as Liam stood in the crowd, watching the game, with a cigarette in one hand and a flask of whisky in the other. He’d snuck the whisky in along with an 8th of cocaine and a bag of Valium the size of a man’s fist. He called this his party-pack and had zero shame in pulling it out and consuming it in front of whoever was there: man, woman or child.

Liam looked at his best friend and slurred at him in his thick British accent, “Think he’s got some hotdogs?”

His friend, Garry, who he’d known since he was four, slurred back at him, “Maybe.”

“Oi! Oi, boss! Yeah, you!” Liam slurred, pointing at a lanky bald-headed man with a trey of hotdogs hanging from his neck. “How much?”

“Two dollars!” the man shouted back.

“Give me…” Liam said, counting his fingers with one eye shut. “Six. Give me six.”

“Here you go,” the man said, passing Liam his food.

Liam took a big bite of his hotdog, squirting mustard all over his white shirt, before paying the man.

“So, why isn’t he here yet?” Garry asked Liam, taking a sharp bump of grade A Colombian cocaine off the palm of his hand.

“Relax,” Liam said, who now had more mustard spread all over his bright white shirt. “He’ll be here.”

“I hope so, especially after what just happened!”

The friends went back to watching the baseball game. The smell, in the air, was rich with the gorgeous scent of freshly cooked donuts while the raw of the crowd echoed through the stadium.

“Hey, Liam!” a distinct New York accent called out, from behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Liam turned. “Joey!” he said, now slightly more upbeat. “You’re here.”

“Well, I did say I was coming.” Then he looked at Liam’s shirt. “Jesus Christ, Liam! What the fuck happened to your shirt?”

Liam looked down eyes slightly squinted. “Shit!” He looked at Garry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Garry who was wearing a pair of sunglasses took them off revealing his owl-like eyes, wide and full of energy. Then the moment he saw the mustard all over his friend’s shirt, he laughed. “Fuck me, mate! You look a right mess!”

Liam looked at Joey with one eye bigger than the other and said to him, “Did you bring it?”

“No, we have to go get it.”

Liam paused a moment before saying, “Perfect. There’s something I need your help with anyway.”

A curious look washed over Joey’s face. “Oh, really? What’s that then?”

“You’ll see.”