Soju Blues

Thonk Thonk Thonk!

Bong Bong Bong!

Clarence Gaines was woken by the sounds of an irate security guard banging on his back window. Not the most pleasant of awakenings, but the backseat of his 1998 Honda civic was neither the most pleasant of sleeping arrangements – so he decided to give the security guard a pass.

Clarence accepted the chewing out for sleeping on private property and agreed to leave before the cops were called and he got charged for trespassing. He crawled into the drivers seat, fumbled around in his pockets for his keys, started the car; and just blankly sat there, staring out the windshield, not going anywhere.

The security guard stood on the sidewalk, watching the little sedan just sit there and idle. The security guard, one Frank Johnson, was starting to feel disrespected; he had told the owner to leave, the owner had gotten into the driver seat and started the car; but they hadn’t left! For a full two minutes the car had just been sitting there. Frank Johnson was starting to feel like the driver didn’t fully respect Frank’s position as a security guard with a sacred duty of guarding this parking lot from would-be illegal trespassers. Frank felt insulted; and he continued to feel insulted even as the sedan finally pulled away – Clarence had been searching for a cigarette.

Clarence for his part didn’t care about the feelings of a self-important security guard, it was 6:30 in the am on a Tuesday, he had a cigarette between his fingers and not much else going for him in life; he was fine with that, he had a plan. The plan wasn’t that complicated; it involved him, his old guitar in the trunk, and a violinist he’d known once back when he was young. Clarence figured those were the three ingredients he needed for success; and he already had two of the three.

Clarence reached under the passenger seat and pulled out a small Bluetooth speaker; he cursed as he pressed the power button; no charge in the speaker, no music for now; the radio in the car was trash. He saw a gas station on the side of the road; he needed breakfast.

Black watery coffee in a Styrofoam cup and a cold Danish out of a cheap plastic wrapper; food of the gods – breakfast of the wanderer who has wandered a little too far. Clarence set his coffee on the roof of his car and checked his phone while munching on his Danish. A couple messages on his socials, some adds he didn’t ask for, two more rejection emails for some projects he’d forgotten proposing; nothing from the violinist. Eh, he had time until he was supposed to meet her, a little bit at least.

He sipped his coffee and made a face, gas station coffee, mixed with the taste of the dust in the air on a hot summer morning. The coffee wasn’t European espresso, but 2.95 was 2.95; Clarence would happily take his gas station drip if it saved him four bucks. He finished his Danish and got into the driver’s seat. He got out of the driver’s seat and opened the rear driver side door; he rummaged around the floorboards until he found his sunglasses. There, now Clarence could see the world properly. He got back into the driver’s seat and started the car. He sat there for a second, his phone was at twelve percent charge – he fumbled around the trash resting in the passenger’s seat and found a charging cord that he could hook into the old cigarette lighter port. Now his phone was charging. Clarence put an address into his phone, put his phone in the cup holder, and put his foot to the gas. He had time.

Mckenna Learens woke up and made a face at the sun; she did not like it. She could hear the sounds of the city beneath her open apartment window; she rolled over and closed her eyes. She opened them again; she wasn’t going to be falling back asleep. She dared herself to look at her clock, it read 9:15. Too early. She gave herself another forty-five to lie in bed. She closed her eyes and went through a checklist of all things she didn’t want to do in the day; then the few things she was actually looking forward to – also there was Clarence – Mckenna didn’t know what category Clarence fell into. He had hit her up out of the blue a week ago and she had made plans with him for lunch today, Mckenna loved seeing her old friend, but also, at times, she really didn’t. Hence why she couldn’t decide which category to place Clarence in, so she decided she would just let Clarence place himself into a box when she saw him.

She stretched and looked at the clock, 10:45! Her forty-five of dozing shut eye had turned into an hour and a half; sometimes she impressed herself. She was meeting Clarence at two, that was still a bit away. Mckenna finally got out of bed, threw on some sweats and an oversized hoodie, and wandered into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and took a shower, she did some light makeup, she tied her hair into a loose pony, she had a cup of coffee. The clock read 12:15. Mckenna had some time to kill, the café she was meeting Clarence at was about a ten-minute drive from her place; she lounged on the couch and mindlessly scrolled through social media.

Chaos.

Bad things…

The End of the World.

Mckenna had seen it all before in the news; in the six years since Covid the news had become a boring merry-go-round; keeping the people mildly discontented yet not enraged enough for anything to matter. Mckenna found it all rather annoying – she wanted to care; but there was too much to care about; so she just accidentally found herself numbing herself to all of it. She didn’t care anymore.

12:45. Time for some housework, definitely something in the category of things that Mckenna did not want to do; but there were dishes in the sink and her carpet really needed to be vacuumed. She tidied the apartment up, lit some incense, and checked the clock. 1:45 – it was time for her to get ready to leave.

2:23.Mckenna had been late on purpose and still she was the first one there. She sat in the café booth and checked her watch, annoyed. The small screen on her wrist didn’t show any messages from Clarence. Mckenna sighed impatiently and decided to give him three more minutes; and as she was getting ready to get up and leave, Clarence walked in.

Clarence walked in and a lump appeared in Mckenna’s throat; an awkward, almost sad lump. Not the nervous lump of a broken heart long healed; but rather the bittersweet lump of just not knowing what to say. Clarence had changed so much.

His frame, he had never been tall; but now he walked with a noticeable stoop; he was gaunt. His curly black hair had grown out slightly, clearly he had neglected to shave for a while. His clothes smelled faintly of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke; his jeans had some food stains; his collared shirt was rumpled. Gone was the boy with the fastidiously immaculate appearance that Mckenna had known before the world went to shit – here was a familiar man that she didn’t recognize but instinctually knew to be Clarence.

Mckenna felt the lump in her throat again as she was forced to acknowledge just how long four years was; apparently a lifetime. She smiled politely as he walked up, she stood and they did that awkward greeting of a half hug that happens between guys and girls that have known each other for two long. The two sat down at the booths and idly looked at the menus, they exchanged small talk and Mckenna did her best to look everywhere but at Clarence.

Clarence, for his part, wasn’t feeling any of the strange awkwardness that, unbeknownst to him, was plaguing Mckenna. He had shown up late – that was true. He had completely neglected to text her about being later – that was also true. He really didn’t care – the most important part. There are some in this world who are capable of only ever having a single-minded narrative that is their point of view; and that narrative mentally justifies all actions and offences – meet Clarence! He had had a six-hour road trip to be there at the café (not that Mckenna needed to know) and now he was happily catching up with an old friend; completely oblivious to her feelings or annoyances. She looked the same to him, short, thin, blonde hair in a ponytail, dressed nice. That was all Clarence could make of Mckenna’s appearance – no one had ever accused him of being observant – and when it came to her thoughts and feelings on anything he couldn’t be bothered to worry. He was there in that café because he had a plan and he needed a violinist, hence Mckenna.

The two of them exchanged chit chat and caught up on old times, they had pretty much grown up together, they had always told each other all their little secrets as children; they had even been starting a band before Covid, and then they had watched as it all drifted away and somehow over night they had seemingly lost contact. Now they were playing catch-up; Mckenna slowly found herself able to look at Clarence again; now Clarence was finally starting to catch on to Mckenna having a distance; and now it was time for Clarence’s grand idea, the reason he had driven six hours that warm June day, he felt it was the perfect way to close the distance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a printed-up flyer folded into sixes.

“Look at that.” He said proudly as he handed it to Mckenna. He waited as she slowly started to read it –

– The food arrived; a Reuben with fries for Mckenna; fish and chips for Clarence. Mckenna put down the flyer and picked up her sandwich with a smile. Clarence realized he was going to have to wait until after they were done eating to say any more, so he paused his chatter and picked up a piece of beer-battered cod, dipping it into his tartar sauce before taking a bite.

Mckenna smiled contentedly as she finished off her sandwich. The bread had been grilled to perfection and the café used a healthy amount of sauerkraut; it was why she loved this place. She ate a few fries and then wiped her fingers off on her napkin. She took a drink of water to wash down the food, then picked up the flyer and began to look over it again.

It was for a show in a week; in a little town sixty miles south that she had never heard of before; a Thursday. The headliner was likewise someone she had never heard of, but, at the bottom as the opener, there was listed a name that brought back several unnecessary memories; Bow Song.

Clarence had played guitar and sang, Mckenna had fiddled and sang. The two of them back in earlier days. Mckenna heard the rasp in Clarence’s voice – she wondered if he could even still sing like he used to.

“Clarence,” she began, clearly trying to frown, but somehow unable to keep the corners of her mouth from involuntarily turning up. “Clarence, first off the answer is no. Second off, did you – did you actually sign us up without asking? You knew the answer.” Mckenna was really trying to talk with a slow and calm voice, but she was also a little annoyed. Four years practically no contact, now he was showing up with this inane plan to rope her into. “Plus, my contract, you know – “

“Mckenna.” Clarence leaned forward and half whispered, talking slow. “I just need a violinist for a night – you’re just the first one I’m asking. If you say no I’ll ask someone else, I have a week to find someone and teach them four songs; all I get for the open.”

Mckenna took her time answering, dipping some fries in her ketchup, eating them and letting him wait. “You’ll just ask someone else, and still use that name?”

Clarence nodded, “I like the name, unless you insist I don’t. Still, yeah, I need a violist and I don’t care who it is anymore; don’t have that kind of time to waste.”

“Oh? You don’t?”

“No,” he turned his head and looked away, “bad habits and all that… but don’t worry about it, I’m playing in a week, with or without you.”

“You don’t need a violinist – “

“No, but it’s still nice to have one; my singing doesn’t feel natural unless there’s a fiddle somewhere in the background; for the memories I figured you could have first shot at it.”

Mckenna gave him a sad smile, the lump from earlier was gone, she could look at him; and she wasn’t really annoyed with him either. She didn’t pity him; he really wasn’t someone capable of being pitied – and she understood. Him choosing the name was more of a salute to her than anything else; he was fine not having her; that was more of a relief to her than anything else… though strangely the relief was bittersweet.

They finished up their meal and Mckenna followed Clarence out to his car in the parking lot. She couldn’t help but make a face as she saw the thing; the paint was peeling, the interior an absolute mess. He popped open the trunk and pulled out his old guitar. Mckenna sat on the open trunk edge as he tuned it; she waited patiently and let him sing her some songs there in that city parking lot, not caring that people might hear. He found some unopened bottles of soju in the trunk, the small green ones; warm from being in the hot car trunk. Clarence handed one to Mckenna and she took a sip, nostalgia flooding back.

Once again there was a school and shared classes, once again there were late night drives and best friends talking, once again there was a brief fling and a fool boy promising he couldn’t feel love, once again there was him waiting for her outside her violin instructor’s house, once again there was soju and cigarettes and songs in the night; once again there was Covid, and a fool boy insisting he felt no feelings. She had known he had been lying then, but she hadn’t cared too much, the friendship was always something she had been able to rely on. One sip of soju, improperly warm and doubly improperly straight from the bottle; and for an instant Grammy winning jazz violinist Mckenna Learens was once again twenty-one on a Friday night; not twenty-six in a hot June parking lot.

At the end of it all Clarence packed up his guitar and they hugged, he got into the car, put his sunglasses on, lit a cigarette, and drove away. Mckenna never did see him after that, Clarence Gaines passed away six months later from various health complications.

In the year 2034, Mckenna Learens released her landmark album Soju Blues: to Those Who Lost Themselves to Youth. The title of the single which remained at number one on the billboards for two weeks? Bow Song.