The Boundless Prophecy

Chapter 1 (1.6(b) Jaglee - The Talent Scout & The Bar Owner)

With a nod of thanks to Jaglee, Wallace stepped back into the kitchen, feeling a sense of calmness wash over him as he began to inspect the quality of the grapes, contemplating the possibility of creating something exquisite out of them. The familiar process of winemaking, a craft he had learned and honed during his time in this world, offered him solace and a temporary escape from the turmoil of the day.

Wallace returned to the kitchen and swung open the back door, knowing precisely where the empty barrels were stashed. Selecting one of the wooden barrels, he hauled it inside. Despite the barboy's efforts at cleaning, a lingering scent of beef stew pervaded the kitchen.

Rolling up his sleeves, he resolved to immerse himself in a task that could momentarily whisk away his concerns.

With deliberate care, Wallace plucked a ruby-coloured grape, followed by a blueberry, and savoured their flavours dancing on his palate. Content with the sweet yet slightly tart taste, he deposited the cluster of grapes and berries into the barrel. The sharp aroma of the crushed fruits enveloped him as he pressed down, relishing their fragrant essence and the yielding texture of the grapes' skin.

The sheer pleasure of extracting juice from these luscious fruits usurped his current state of mind. He recalled a line from his winemaking readings: the secret lay not only in the quality of the fruits but also in the mindset of the winemaker.

Unnoticed, Jaglee stood at the kitchen door, observing Wallace engrossed in the winemaking process. Eyes fixed on the barrel, hands immersed in the freshly made juice and crushed fruits, Jaglee sensed this was Wallace's way of unwinding. Releasing a nearly inaudible sigh, he joined others in tidying up the bar.

Wallace persisted in crushing the fruits, eventually rising with a sore back from prolonged slouching. Stretching his muscles, he surveyed the product of his labour over the past few hours. It was then he noticed the eerie silence in the bar, devoid of the barboy's shuffling, chair squeaks, and glass clinks. Contemplating whether to stay and blend the wine as promised, he sealed the barrel shut, pondering his decision.

Adjacent to the stove sat three barrels of fermented wine, a detail he had missed in his absorption. Despite his repeated reminders to Jaglee about temperature control, the vacant spaces beside the stove were far from ideal. Wallace carefully relocated the barrels marked 'HH' away from the heat, positioning them nearer to the window beside the back door, ensuring they wouldn't obstruct the exit.

He paused, struck by the 'HH' mark etched on the barrels. The Harmonica Hurricane Bar had been his refuge of peace and tranquillity—a place where Wallace indulged in drinking, crafting wine, and blending it. Jaglee had opened the bar five years ago, following the heart-breaking loss of his wife. 'HH' held significance for Jaglee, yet he always evaded discussing it. To Wallace, the Harmonica Hurricane Bar held a similar, unspoken importance.

Jaglee tirelessly navigated the bar's tasks whenever he was awake—cleaning, refilling the ale and beer barrels, and cooking. Occupying himself helped him evade thoughts of his late wife that caused unbearable pain.

Occasionally, Wallace witnessed Jaglee succumb to a bottomless pit of anguish from his past, leaving him breathless—a dark, devastated look etched across his face.

For Wallace, the Harmonica Hurricane Bar was a sanctuary—a place of concealment and convalescence.

Having relocated the barrels to the window, Wallace meticulously cleaned the mess from crushing the fruits, erasing stains and smudges around the barrel. He envisioned the barboy's disgruntled expression had he left the area unkempt.

Exiting the kitchen, Wallace discovered Jaglee dozing in a chair. It wasn't uncommon for Jaglee to nap in the bar, but the overwhelming exhaustion had rendered him asleep in an upright position, still clutching a half-empty beer mug. The beer foam staining his beard quivered with each snore.