The Children of Hercules

I can still remember the pungent smell of Marlboro coming from the corner booth to the left of the bar where my Dad had plopped me down next to him and I can still see the black stains of wear on the teeth of the cigarette’s owner. I can feel the unfinished wood scratch my legs as I slid forward, little shoes dangling, feet off the tile floor, before I turned onto my belly to grip the stool and let myself fall onto the floor. The whole time my Father was busy hitting on the pretty bartender who was probably only just barely 21 to his 30. He didn’t even turn his head when I stumbled away from his side to make my way to the group of men smoking on their faded red bench seat. I looked up and made eye contact with a man to the side of his black-toothed buddy. His eyes seemed to glow at me in the yellow light but when I looked closer I realized it wasn’t the lighting, but that instead of the normal white surrounding his black pupils both his eyes seemed to have no color to them at all. Where I should have seen color they were completely white and the area surrounding them was the off white shade of butter, like bad teeth. The man sitting across from him had eyes that darted about the room every few moments and he was talking low and fast, though the white-eyed man seemed to have stopped acknowledging him, looking only at me, intensely. I took a small step back and he reached a brown, leathered arm out to me, palm side up and waited, still gazing at me expectantly. I remember stepping forward, curious, and in his palm was a white marble. My little eyes took in the tiny orb and I took another step forward, reaching for the clouded marble but he closed his fingers around it and withdrew his hand. I looked up at him confused and he looked down with a quarter smile on his face. Beginning to lose interest in the man, who didn’t seem to want to give me what I wanted, I started to turn away for the second time when I heard him whisper, “Alice.” His voice was rough and slimy— like the sound the feel of a toad’s skin would make if it had a noise. I quickly turned back to face him and stared into his face, searching for the answer of how he knew my name. Instead he pointed at my Father, who was, undoubtedly drunk at that point and asked, “Is that your dad?” I turned and looked at my Father, he had his back to me and leant over the counter to whisper in the bartender’s ear, and nodded my head. The man leant back against the red leather of the bench and gestured to his friend across the table. “How would you like to have your own marble like this?” He asked, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger so I could see it. As the light from the hanging lamp bounced off the glass surface it glinted, and for a moment it looked as if the white clouds inside were swirling in endless circles. I remember reaching up for it before he snatched it back up. He shook his head at me. “Nuh-uh-uh, not this one little love.” He said, leaning down to be closer to my level. “If you want one of these my friend can take you to our car just outside where we have a whole bunch of them.” I looked back and forth between the two men still not saying anything and nodded quickly. Black tooth smiled a full smile that showed his whole mouth and glanced over at the white-eyed man before standing and extending his hand to me but as I reached to take it a crash sounded from my father’s direction. I snatched my hand back and swiveled around in time to see my dad push himself up off the floor, staggering to keep his balance. “BENJAMIN!” His bass voice boomed through the bar. The white-eyed man stood, slipping the marble into his front pocket. “Nelson.” He answered, cocking his head to one side. “How unexpected to see you here. With Alice.” A sly smile crossed over his face. “You st-t-ay away from my daughter Benjamin!” My father yelled pointing. The man named Benjamin laughed sarcastically. “She just came over to say hi. Since you were otherwise occupied.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bartender. “You shouldn’t bring her places like this Nelson. You never know what trouble she could get into.” His voice was low and his eyes were dark. “She’s mine.” My Dad snarled. “I can do whatever I want with her.” I stood paralyzed between the two men staring at my father as he struggled to stay on his feet. “Alice!” He yelled, and I ran over to him, “We’re leaving.” He grabbed onto my arm, yanking me to his side, and stumbled forward then turned to Benjamin, shooting him one final glare before pulling me with him out of the bar and into the black night.