The Killing King of Gratis Read Free

hair of the dog seemed a fair exchange for giving up a Saturday afternoon.
    Well, I guess if they do they could fire me
, he thought, closing his eyes to take a short nap. He wondered whether there was some Stoli in the office, and whether he could show Peck how to hit a fastball.
Hell, I can’t even hit one myself.
He laughed at the thought, despite his aching head, and hoped he wouldn’t dream of new lawyers and old wives.

4.
Kero and Newt
    “ A lright, Newt, let’s count those cases and bottles and see where we stand from last night.”
    Kero Peters shouted at Newt MacElroy down the stairs where he was dozing on the back porch, catching the breeze coming off the river. They were at Daddy Jack’s, Kero’s juke joint in Gratis that hung over the Bird like a gnarled tree. It was the first Saturday morning after the last day of school.
    Kero’s dad owned a block of buildings in Gratis and after his death the block was divided among his children. Kero’s share was an old four story brick building nestled by the downtown in front and the river in back. Over the years the building served as a hotel, a tavern, and a boarding house for Christian women.
    Kero loved the immensity of the building and knew when he inherited it what the main floor would be. After working on it for a year he opened Daddy Jack’s, a juke joint “with class,” as Kero would point out.
    Customers had to go down a side alley to enter. Kero turned it into a dark path with faint gas lights leading to the door. Even at the height of day this passage, with the building overhangs and dense plants on both sides, was dark and cool. It led to the entrance, a huge wooden door with a sign hanging over it that read “Where Angels Fear to Tread.” Kero thought it was hilarious.
    The first thing one saw upon entering was a long wooden bar in the back.
    It was decorated with innumerable stickers, road signs, license plates, tacked up dollar bills, and other totems Kero picked up along the way. Dominating it was a large mural of James Brown in concert directly behind the taps. The whole thing said “sit and have a drink or two.” In the back corner was an ancient jukebox that Kero babied and stocked to suit him. Being the owner had its benefits.
    On the main floor were tables where patrons dined from a menu of ribs, chopped pork and a few sides. Kero usually had some fresh shrimp available, too. He believed in sticking to a few things and doing them well.
    Off the main room was a steep flight of steps leading down to Daddy Jack’s “Rendezvous.” It was a large open room with another bar and a porch dangling over the river. There was no eating down there unless you counted the free self-serve popcorn, just tables for drinking and watching the Bird float by. On the weekend there was always a blues or shag band, and then the Rendezvous filled up. All types would come, young and old, drinking and dancing and carrying on.
    As a child, Kero spent most weekends with his father going on his rent collection rounds. At the end of each day they went to Junior’s on the outskirts of town. It was a hot joint with pealing linoleum, grease in the air, and red vinyl covering the booths. The owner, Junior, usually sat with his father and they would laugh, drink, and have a high time. In the red vinyl booth his father looked like a king. When they tore Junior’s down after his death, Kero bought every one of those booths. They were the first thing he put in Daddy Jack’s. Some nights he thought that, for a little while, he made everyone look like a king.
    Newt worked the night before as he usually did. It started out well. He tended bar and made sure everyone was taken care of. Toward the end of the evening, though, he got sloppy and gave away free drinks. Doing shots with the customers had that effect.
    Kero shouted again, “Newt, get off your ass and see how much of my money you gave away last night!”
    Kero knew that Newt had a habit of giving away free drinks on