Revelry

There were many people in the bar that night. They all had their coats and umbrellas. Outside the storm worsened. Whenever the door opened the rain came in and everyone pushed out of the way.

Manny had come from the other side of the city. He was wet and tired. On the way a car had splashed him and hit him with gravel. He could ignore that if he wanted to. Manny looked at all of the people present until he found the one he'd come for.

A tall man was sitting at the bar counter by himself. Manny pushed past many of the patrons to sit beside him. The bartender's back was to him.

"Two beers," Manny said. He looked at the stranger. "You're supposed to be a prophet, right?"

The tall man looked at him. "I am Prophet," he said.

Manny took off his coat and put it on the counter. "The name's Manny. You don't know me, but I've been looking for you. I need you to help me."

"Why do you think that?"

"You can see what I can't," Manny said.

He noticed his two bottles of beer on the counter and slid one over to Prophet. The man didn't take it.

"What business is it of mine?" Prophet asked.

"Listen," Manny said. "I've never wanted anything before. If there's anything I need, I can get it. But now I'm lost. The harder I look, the farther it goes. I was told you help people. If you want me to pay you, I can."

"What do you want?"

"I need a miracle."

Prophet started to stand up. Manny grabbed his arm.

"Wait! Listen to me. It's my friend- we went out drinking the other night. He just got a new job, we were celebrating. It was three nights ago."

"Congratulations," Prophet said.

"No. He just found out he got the job. It was a good thing, too. After he lost the old one, he couldn't pay the rent. If he could pay the landowner at the end of the month, he would be all right. But this new job doesn't start for a week. The month is over in a week."

"That's bad luck," Prophet said.

"I told him it was going to be okay," Manny said. "I took him out to drink. He was upset. We were out for hours. I didn't want him to leave upset. But he wouldn't cheer up.

"We were going home and he said- 'Aren't you lucky?' I asked him what he meant. He said- 'You have a home.'"

"What is his name?" Prophet asked.

"Sull," Manny said. Prophet waited while Manny drank his beer. His mouth pursed bitterly. "We were going home. It was late. It was dark. The cars were so bright. We were waiting to cross the street. Then-"

He wiped his mouth. The beer and water from the rain were mixed together.

"He just ran out. I tried to follow him, I called after him. A car almost hit me. When the road was finally clear, he was gone.

"It's been three nights," Manny said. "I can't find him anywhere. I've looked! I need to find him. I need to know he's okay."

"He's fine," Prophet said. "I'm not so sure about you." Manny glared at him.

"Can you show that to me? I want to believe you. If anyone can help, it's you."

"All right," Prophet said. He stood up and left his bottle of beer on the counter. "Let's go then."

They entered the rainy street and started to walk. Manny looked to Prophet for direction but received none outright. They walked abreast for the longest time. Though Manny was getting impatient and desperate, he didn't say so to the tall man.

The rain grew colder until it was like ice. Manny held himself and shivered. He had forgotten his coat in the bar. Prophet didn't seem to notice. The water plastered Manny's hair and made his skin slick and cool. He felt a little dizzy. As they trod through the puddles on the street his feet went numb in his shoes.

Manny couldn't tolerate it any longer. "Where are you taking me?" he demanded. Prophet stopped walking and gestured into the dark. Manny couldn't see anything. They were waiting for something but he didn't understand what.

Eventually he heard a car approaching. The beams from its headlights blinded him temporarily. It cut past them and splashed his legs with gritty water. Manny didn't notice.

On the other side of the road, hidden by the brush, a person was lying on the ground. Manny stumbled across the street to him and crouched down, insensitive to the cold bite of the earth. Prophet followed him more slowly and stood at his back. The man on the ground was cold and lifeless. His neck was twisted around and he had blood congealed around his nose and mouth. His body had swelled some from the steady rain. Manny touched him and recoiled, repulsed, but kept staring.

"Sull," Prophet asked, "do you know who this person is?"

Sull nodded. He wiped the rain from his face. "This is Manny," he said.