“Aqua Boogie,” A New Story from Kimbilio Fellow James Bernard Short Appearing on THE BLOOD ORANGE REVIEW

1981

The State Store was a squat, Soviet-style building parked on the less-heeled side of our little town. Stark and foreboding, it was the place to go if you wanted something stronger than a six pack of pissy beer or a cheap bottle of fortified wine. In all the years that I lived there, I don’t remember ever seeing anyone go in or out of its metal plated doors, but the building itself made an indelible imprint for the clear and brown-tinged bottles I imagined lining its dusty shelves. Ohio’s restrictive liquor laws made it virtually impossible for underage drinkers to acquire beverages of the distilled variety, thus the State Store remained forever outside my reach; but the Beer Garden across the street avoided the same degree of scrutiny, and for your discretion and cold, hard cash, they would gladly part with the occasional bottle of Boone’s Farm, or a few loose cans of Genny Cream Ale.

“A dolla, ninety,” said the drive-through attendant. I lifted off my butt and dug into my pocket for the one dollar bills I had folded and stuffed in there. I came out with a wad and peeled off five from the twenty. The oily-haired attendant palmed them and looked away as I secured the rest of my cash. “Bag for that?”

“Yessir,” I said. 

He ducked inside the window and came back out with his arm extended. I took the bag and placed it beneath the front seat of my ’69 Volkswagen resto-mod.

READ THE REST OF THE STORY AT THIS LINK: https://bloodorangereview.com/fiction/aqua-boogie/