Roots | "Hit The Road"

0 - Take me Home...

     Song, life, and light pours out of the windows of Teddy's Tankard and into snowy Appalachian surroundings in the dead of night. While most places nestled in or close to the Monongahela are safely closed for the night, this bar and grill soldiers on through the night. Serving to party on till the wee hours of the morning. This being said, the crowd at Teddy's wasn't all that diverse.

     It was full of familiar faces, faces you'd learn the names of within one or two visits. Of course all these folks were welcomed warmly every time by old Teddy himself, Theodore Krebs. A short man who had the attitude and appearance of a squarish Santa Claus. Jolly and friendly, but firm in his gut.

     Teddy would like to consider himself a good judge of character. He was very judging of those who entered his bar, not really trusting folks till they've made their fourth or sixth visit. Folks like Fox Bradley and Coty Knowles would more than willingly testify. It had taken a little over a year for Teddy to let them perform at the bar.

     The two had grown on Teddy, with their strange bond and even more peculiar music. Teddy would safely consider it 'new-fangled' but it still had that old twangy sound to it, a sound that Teddy didn't mind hearing. If anything it just added to the atmosphere of the small interstate side bar and grill.

     The strums and hollers of Coty and Fox glow through Teddy's Tankard, bringing smiles and movement to those sitting in the establishment. Teddy stands behind the bar top, laughing and humming along to the music as he serves more patrons. It had been a slow night, thank god, so Teddy was sure to take his time. He spoke to his customers, asking where they were coming from, how their lives were treating them, and other things of the sort.

     Most folks are more than happy to talk with Teddy, offering stories and buried emotions. Theodore makes sure to listen to everyone, finding interest in their words. He eventually finds himself standing with a tattooed arm propped on the bartop, listening to one of his more frequent patrons Kavach about her son's performance in school.

     Though Teddy's attention splits in two as the door to the bar swings open. A man, far too spindly to have opened the thick wooden door like that, enters. He walks with layers upon layers on his upper body. He walks in a weirdly relaxed but calculated way, seeming to both and not care where he was going. The man stops, taking a seat at the end of the bar top closest to the entrance.

     His form melts down, relaxing at the feeling of heat on his clammy skin. He pulls off a thick wool cap, revealing a head of jet black, semi shaggy hair. A pair of heavily polarized wine red glasses sit practically fixed to his nose. They reach into the inner pocket of his outermost layer producing an old leather wallet, covered in stickers. The man preemptively reaches into his wallet, doling out cash for his order.

Teddy looks to his patron, slowly holding up a hand.

     "Just a sec there, Bea, I'll be right back with you, alright?" He looks to Beatrice, hoping she'd be alright for a few seconds while he helped the man.

     A reluctant sigh passes through the prematurely graying blonde's lips. "Alright, but when you come back, I got a whole other shit storm for ya." She hums, taking out a pocket sized crossword to keep her hands and mind distracted from her aggravated state.

     Teddy nods and laughs politely, walking over to the other end of the bar top. He leans across from the warmly dressed stranger, trying to flash a smile of equal temperature.

"Well hello there, son, what can I get for you?"

     "If I could get a shot of cinnamon rum..." The stranger doesn't miss a beat with responding, already knowing what he was going to need. His eyes flick to a clock hung on the wall behind the bar top before continuing his sentence. "...And some hot water in this, that would be much appreciated." He takes out an empty hot water bottle, hugged by a wool knit cover.