GZ Tales: Percival's Tale part 3

 

The couple in the corner decided to leave quietly, but Vicky and Scat were too busy to notice. Percival’s mind spun as he considered all he heard so far.

“So, what can I get you?” Vicky asked.

“A pint of lager will do, thank you.”

“What kind?”

Percival’s mind spun again, “Surprise me.” As long as they thought he was an actor, Percival felt a bit safer. Finding out the rest of what he needed to know still looked tricky. The last thing he wanted now was to scare anyone. It would require him playing along with their thoughts of him and letting them do the thinking.

Vicky served up a mug of beer, “That will be six dollars.”

“Ah.” Percival dug into his pocket and pulled out an assortment of folded bills.

Vicky took them and paused on sight of them, “What is this?”

“Oh!” Percival realized that his money may not be any good in this weird world. He took the bills back with apology and dug frantically for what he hoped would work. He put a gold coin in her hand.

“Oh boy.” Vicky said, “You guys take this stuff seriously don’t you?”

“You don’t take gold?” Percival asked with a knot in his throat.

“What?” Vicky’s jaw dropped open.

“Hey! You mean that’s an authentic coin?” Scat nearly spat all over the bar, “Nowadays, those things are worth a fortune!”

“Um, great.” Vicky said as she pocketed the coin. “That will do nicely.”

“Good.” Percival took a drink of his beer. “Oh my! This is cold.” He noted the strange expressions, “And very good! Just what I was hoping for.”

“So you were saying that you’re lost?” Vicky asked, finding herself more curious with this man than before.

“Yes. I am lost. I know it will sound strange, but I don’t even know what town I’m in.”

“You’re in Franklin, Louisiana, Hon,” Vicky said.

“Is this the town you’re supposed to be in?” Scat asked, wondering if he had any more gold coins.

“Maybe,” Percival answered hesitantly.

The door to the bar opened and two policemen stepped in. One was tall and the other stout. Both appeared muscular and athletic with modern military haircuts. Percival had never seen such uniforms, but he still recognized authority figures.

“Hello, Officers!” Vicky said brightly. At that moment she noticed that the couple in the corner was gone. In the pit of her stomach, she knew why they were there.

“How are you folks doing tonight?” Officer Stone, the stout one asked. His chest was broad and his neck was thick. Vicky thought he must be a body builder.

“We’re doing great. Would you boys like some coffee?”

“We got a call about a man with a gun,” the stern looking Officer Yates informed them.

“Looks we have him right here,” Officer Stone gestured towards Percival. “Not what I expected though.”

“It’s okay, Officers,” Scat said, “He’s one of them reenactment people.”

“Is that a real gun, Sir?” Officer Stone asked.

“It’s one of them replicas,” Scat interjected again. A stern look from Yates turned the old man back to his beer quickly.

“As he said, Sir,” Percival reached for the pistol to show the officer.

“I’ll do that,” Officer Stone said as he reached out and took the pistol from its holster. He studied the gun with intense interest as Yates peered over a shoulder.

“Well, that has to be replica. I’ve never seen a black powder pistol in such good shape.” Stone put the pistol on the bar, “Now I need to see your I.D.”

“I.D.?” Percival didn’t recognize the term.

“Yes,” said Yates, “Identification.”

Percival looked at the silver ring on the middle finger of his left hand. It had his name and rank inscribed on it. Percival couldn’t help the feeling that this would not satisfy these officers. Few men in the ranks had any better to be identified by in the war, so Percival had nothing else. He could only think of one thing.

“I am Captain Louis Percival of the…”

Suddenly the pistol on the bar moved and startled everyone but Percival. It spun in place on the bar rapidly and then gradually slowed. When it stopped, the barrel aimed towards the door.

“You know, Officers,” Vicky piped up with desperate earnest, “He’s with me. He’s a friend of the family and, Lord, we’ve been looking out for him since he was a kid. He’s always gotten so lost in anything he does,” Vicky tapped the side of her forehead, “that it’s hard to get him out. It was a mistake to let him bring that here. He just wanted to show us. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

“Ookay,” Stone said slowly as he stared at the gun. “That might have been good to know when we first got here.”

“Yeah,” Yates nodded, also staring.

“I’m so sorry, Officers. But, you know, I take full responsibility for Louis. Do you need my I.D.?”

“You know what?” Stone stepped backwards. “I don’t know what we just saw here, but I don’t think it’s illegal. I think we can go now.”

“I agree.” Yates started heading for the door. “You folks have a good night.”

The officers left without another word and an awkward silence fell over the three left behind.

Once the officers were gone, Vicky couldn’t contain herself, “What in the world was that?” She pointed at the gun. “You know what? Never mind. Bar’s closed. Scat go home. Mr. Percival, you stay right there.”

“That’s not fair!” Scat protested, “And hey, Frank’ll fire ya for closing early!”

“Scat,” Vicky looked the old man dead in the eye, “Scat!”

“Well, you don’t have to be like that about it,” Scat muttered as he made for the door. “No tip for you.”

“You never tip!” Vicky  followed Scat and locked the door behind him. She turned off the neon signs in the windows and turned off the main room lights. She glanced out the windows a couple of directions twice and then walked back to Percival.

By this time, Percival had holstered his pistol. He watched Vicky’s bustle of activity with curious interest.

“Okay.” Vicky held both hands in front of her as if trying to catch an invisible ball or at least his attention. “What is the real story with you?”

“You may find that hard to believe.” Percival couldn’t help but fear how she may react.

“Your gun going poltergeist on my bar was hard to believe. Try me.”