For Andrei

“So,” he says, as we sit with our drinks, “Did you hear?”
“Hear what?” I say, lighting a cigarette.
We are on the second floor of a bar, out on the balcony. He looks over the railings, into the street below. It is a beautiful summers day, a little after lunch time on a Sunday.
He doesn’t say anything or a while except “Finish your drink”.
I do, I go get another.
I sit, light another cigarette. Smoking goes so well with drinking, one cigarette at the start of your drink, one at the end.
I do not press him. I know that it will come out, he’s just looking for the right words. We finish our drinks, he goes off to get the next round.
He comes back. His face is set, determined.
“Alright,” he says, “I’m gonna tell you The Story.”

He tells it.

I stare at him. An unlighted cigarette hangs from my mouth.
I raise my lighter, don’t light it, lower it again. I do this about three times. Finally I take the smoke from my mouth and place it on the table. I finish my drink in one long swallow.
“Another?” I ask.
“Fuck yes” he says, grimly.
I come back to the table, pick up the cigarette I had been toying with earlier, light it, and lean on the railings, looking out into the city, sipping my drink. The minutes tick by.
“Is it true?” I ask, without looking at him.
“Yes” he answers.
“How many people know?” I ask.
“You, me, the people involved, no one else.”
“Why do I know?”
“Somebody had to.” he says, finally.
“How do you know?” I ask, knowing already.
He does not speak, looks down into his drink.
The afternoon sun combined with alcohol is starting to affect us both. He nods his head slowly as if agreeing with someone.
“I was there.”
I look out into the city, weighing my nearly empty glass in my hand. I want to throw it down on the sidewalk, smash it right next to someone and scare the living shit out of them. I peer at the booze slowly mixing with the melting ice, decide I need it in me rather than not, finish it and leave the glass balanced on the rail, not stoping to see if it falls, not stopping to say good bye, not looking at him, just walking out of there thinking, well, that is some goddamn story.