The three gentlemen of which our story centers around finally came together to revel before each other the extraordinary changes they had all been going through. Of course, it did not happen the way any of them had planned it would, and naturally, all three were more surprised to learn what the other was capable of. Remember, nothing is as it seems; What happened next was a mess.
The three road together on the way to the bar or club, none of them were really sure what to call a place that uses a bar as a club, maybe a ‘Bub?’ They took a taxi, which wasn’t normal. Taves was often the one driving, excluding him from the slightest inebriation. Whenever he drove, he rarely drank any alcohol at all, saying it was something of personal decision, and when the others had had too many drinks to account for, they couldn’t understand, but that’s what happens when folks get drunk. Swartz was quiet. This usually wasn’t the case. Although not one to be obtusely loud or outgoing, he did enjoy a clever quip or remark. But his mind was racing, and he couldn’t stop wanting to use his power; he finally asked himself the crucial question: where did this power come from? Could he be part of the next saga in human evolution? He chuckled. The X-men-Heroes scenarios did not seem scientifically plausible to him. There must be another explanation! Unlike the others, Swartz had already started training himself to use his power. First in his office the night he realized what he could do, and then the following week. He called in sick a lot, using the time to unlock a portion of his potential, but those stories have already been told.
Seguin made small talk with the Cabi’ while ridding shotgun. No one was saying a word, so Seguin tried his hand at changing that.
“Well this is a dull ride, what’s with you guys? We planned on going out a week ago, and everyone in this car was pretty stoked, and now what? Greg, has a Zombie bit you? Come on gentlemen, pretend you enjoy life! Sorry, not you Carl, you’re doing fine.”
The Cabi’ just laughed. Seguin could usually get a laugh out of someone, but tonight was no such night for Taves. Where Seguin had come to believe that whatever was happening to him was simply a frightening coincidence and by no means necessitated further thinking, Taves was unsure how he should act around people; afraid of what people would think. Seguin was convinced that whatever it was, it was over with and this helped him sleep at night. But once asleep, his mind was plagued by vivid, sometimes disturbing dreams. He held his fears inside. ‘Was there no escape?’
“Turn on some music then.” Swartz uttered with little patients, he wasn’t in a bar mood.
“Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m so out of it. I guess I’m just real tired from work.” Taves put on his best front, but it was clear to the others that something was wrong.
“Alright,” declared Seguin, “That’s better, tonight is going to be fun—there is no other option on the table—put ‘em in.” Seguin had a flare for the dramatic, and would sometimes do things like this, as if the three were on a sports team or something.
The Cab pulled up to the ‘Bub’, it was called Olympus. It was still early; the line up was not yet daunting. “Bye Carl, thanks for the memories” shouted Seguin on the way out. Swartz took one look at the place and for a second felt relief. He was comfortable in these types of places; where others may have felt intimidated by the social mandate of dating or ‘hook-ups’, Swartz had no expectations when entering. He was relaxed and it showed. Such scenes were not arranged for Taves. He understood why most people went to bars and clubs, but he hoped to meet a girl in the ‘traditional sense’, involving coincidence, the passing glance, and humours scenarios. He placed little faith in a clubber or bar patron. The three entered expecting a good time, completely unprepared.
Taves paid admission. The bouncers sized him up as bouncers usually do. This had little effect on Taves, who was considerably smaller. He tried to act normal, but he was afraid; not of the atmosphere, but of himself. What if other people found out his secret? He knew he had to remain cautious, like a superhero in one of the comic books he read so often, who upon discovering his power learns quickly that divulging his secret to even his closes confidant can have dangerous consequences. ‘Enemies attack a heroes’ personal life’ recalled Taves, and he valued his friends and family above all else, he couldn’t risk it. Still, he couldn’t help but radiate his new confidence, and for the first time in his life, he believed, ‘nothing can stop me!’
It was early enough that the three were able to grab a table. Swartz made the first trip to the bar, getting three beers. When he reached the counter, a mere ten feet from his seat, he immediately noticed the tender. The girl serving drinks knew what she was doing. With a smile on her face shed shuffled about, making several drinks at a time. She moved with the music, she enjoyed herself and you could tell. Swartz was generally impressed and that was before he noticed her appearance. She was gorgeous. Not too short, but by no means tall. Her eyes were blue, while her hair was brown. ‘unique.’ Echoed from swartz mind across the room into Seguin’s. Swartz had no line prepared, or agenda for retrieving affection. He simply smiled at her as she handed him the drinks. ‘Thanks,’ is what he mouthed without words; it was too loud hear anything anyway. But she understood just the same. She nodded, and then went back to work. ‘Who is this girl,’ he thought? He liked her and already it wasn’t cavalier thing. He walked back to the guys and took his seat, distributed the beers, and glanced back. ‘Interesting.’ She quickly pretended she was busy, as if she wasn’t glancing back.
Seguin interjected, “It is Olympus, and there’s a goddess!” Swartz laughed as Seguin went on, “Well boys, I guess it will be a good night!” and the three lifted their drinks to ‘cheer’.
Climbing Mount Olympus: Episode 2
Swartz had decided to risk looking foolish. He typically didn’t care. But this time was different for reasons not even he could begin to understand. This girl, the tender, whose name he hadn’t yet learned, was catching his eye each time he scanned the room. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ he thought to himself, ‘I don’t do sentimental, at least not with a girl I don’t even know!’ Swartz stood abruptly, ready to seek her out. He looked to the Bar. She was gone. He sat back down. A short pause ensued. Followed by inevitable joke made by Seguin,
“So, you were doing what exactly, just now? Stretches? You looked like you about to give a speech or something,” Taves too had to join in the fun,
“Seriously, it’s like you forgot you didn’t have to go pee or something. What were you doing?”
“Nothing. Or something. I was going to find a girl.” After Swartz had finished, Taves quickly quipped,
“There’s few in here if you look carefully.” Making a few jokes helped Taves relax a bit, and feeling normal again was a pleasant change.
Both he and Seguin understood which girl he was talking about. Seguin looked around to see if he could find her. It was then that his ability manifested. Without intention, or even knowing, his physical vision went from the table, as if running with great speed, he was now taking in events happening on the other side of the room. It stopped for moment, enough time for Seguin to catch his breath. But then almost immediately it resumed, and within a few seconds he had successfully mapped his way around the large circular room, through the crowd, in the booths along the walls, and on the dance floor behind the bar. It was like seeing through someone else’s eyes; the experience scared the hell out of him. He couldn’t help but cry out a bit,
“Not cool! Really, really not cool!”
His friends starred at him blankly, thinking a joke was missed, or that he spilt his drink; it wasn’t clear. Then Seguin’s thoughts wondered to the patio at the back of the building, where he felt cold and tired, and desperate for another Tom Collins. And how odd it was indeed? When Seguin had never heard of a Tom Collins, knowing only now that it was a drink, but unsure how he knew this.
“She’s out back.” Seguin announced.
“Who is?” Swartz was startled.
“The girl, the bar girl, she’s on the patio,” Seguin was quick with his words.
“Really. I’ll be right back.” Swartz stood from his chair; he had to go see a girl.
“Bring a Tom Collins,” Seguin blurted out.
“A what?” Swartz returned.
“Gin with a fizz, its dry; just order the drink.” Seguin was impressed with himself. Swartz took his advice, and ‘what the hell?’ he may as well continue his bold-streak.
A car drove by the front entrance. By itself, no big deal. Lots of cars drove down the busy street that night, but this car was different; a black Lincoln, creeping, so slowly it was almost at a complete stop. But no one got out and no one shuffled. The windows weren’t tinted or anything, for the mystery at this point wasn’t so much who but why? Three people waiting, but waiting for what? By this time Seguin’s power was taking him all over the place, and he had trouble even keeping up his end of the conversation with Taves. He gave his friend one word answers like, ‘yea’ and ‘okay!’ His head finally came to a halt, hovering outside the front entrance; and that was where the car was, that’s when he felt this awful feeling inside. The two men in front seat of the car were cold-hearted; one was red and the other black, ‘what does that mean?’ The one in the back seat was quite and calm, but when Seguin tried to take a closer look at him, it was as if the world became silent as the air went cold. The faceless figure was now covered in shadow, but his silhouette remained haunting. He was not a large person, nor was he necessarily a he. But there was one thing Seguin felt for sure; Segiun was afraid. He snapped out of it,
“What is with you? Where’s the fun? Come on zombie, don’t fall asleep!” Taves was unsure what could be troubling Seguin, but was more interested to learn how Swartz doing.
Swartz made his way onto the heavily populated Patio, sifting through cigarette smoke, and clinching his teeth against the bitter cold. He quickly found her. She was alone, standing in a corner starring out across the street into a small park. After excusing his way through the crowd, he finally reached his moment. Now was time to say something memorable or at least mildly funny. He had nothing, which was in it’s self was funny, because he thought he had something resembling a plan before he reached her, but now he actually needed one. He was about to open his mouth and say something perfectly lame like, “Wow, it’s freezing eh?!” when a large, honestly overweight man, decided it was time to accidentally trip in a drunken stupor slurred yelping collapse like move; in his defence, salting a Patio where drunk men and women will be standing in the icy winter would be a smart initiative, from a purely business point of view; nevertheless, the large man was surely going to injure himself or at least his four friends to Swartz’s left. The yelp was loud enough to call a group of people’s attention to the grand fall, and it was then, as the man’s feet were no longer touching ground but now in mid air, that without thought, Swartz caught the man with one hand while balancing Tom Collins (the drink) with the other. Of course, augmenting his own strength with Telekinesis was one of the earlier learning curves Swartz had surpassed. So there he was, hoisting to his feet, a 290 pound man, who of sheer inebriation casually burped out the words, “you’re awesome…” while trailing off his speech. Swartz received a scattered applause by the few people close enough to witness the event. He made his way to the Patio railing, standing all but 3 feet from the girl. He said nothing. He simply hoped Seguin was right.
“Is that a Tom Collins?” She asked.
“Yea.” He responded without really looking at her.
“I love that drink; that’s so weird because I’ve wanted one all night, but I’m working.”
“That’s a shame, because this Tom Collins is delicious.” He smiled while saying this and nearly laughed aloud.
“You think Tom Collins is delicious?” She was having some fun with him now.
“Totally. Can’t get enough actually.”
“That’s pretty hot.” She had a pleasant sarcasm about her. “What’s in a Tom Collins, exactly?”
Swartz laughed a bit. “Well. It’s a really complicated drink. First, you need to purchase alcohol, of a specific brand and type, which you then mix with an assortment of other clear, sweet tasting liquids. Finally, you add some Tom.” He could barely finish the sentence.
“And then add some Collins maybe?”
How over-the-top smooth he was being right now he thought. He felt like James Bond, but considerably smoother. And Lets be honest, James Bond didn’t have Telekinesis. He handed her the drink.
“Here. Tom chose you.”
“One drink shouldn’t hurt.” She took a sip, and then asked the question she wanted to ask initially, “So what’s you’re secrete. Are you one of those gym guys? A balanced diet protein and steroids?”
“Nope. What makes say that?”
“For starters you saved shamo like it was nothing, when really it was something. That guy was huge.” Swartz tried to shrug it off, but eventually settled with telling the truth.
“The truth is I have a superpower.” He said it with a fairly straight face too.
“That’s a big deal. What’s your power?” She clearly thought she was playing along.
“I can see through glass. Also, I make a great first impression.” He returned to his humour.
“That’s too bad. I guess that would make me your Kryptonite.” She laughed and began to make her way back into the bar. “I gotta’ get back to work, but thanks for the drink. Maybe you can buy me another one sometime.”
“Let’s get this straight, the drink was mine, it was Tom’s choice.” She was almost at the door when Swartz yelled out, “What’s your name?”
“Amelia,” She called back,
“Ryan, but my friends call me Swartz; See you around Amelia.”
She entered the bar but Swartz remained. He had done well, or at least he felt as if he’d done well. She laughed. She smiled. And it was her who said, ‘some other time.’ He sighed, wishing he brought himself a drink. But as he looked across the street he noticed a car parked that was not there before. ‘Strange, I didn’t hear it pull up.’ The car was black, an antique, but no one was in it. Off in the trees, beyond the road where the park met the forest, he saw what looked like rustling. He figured some kids were getting high or something like that. From the top of the trees smoke was rising. Swartz knew a joint the size of a football could not create as much smoke as was soaring towards the sky. What was really odd was how no fire could be seen burning on the ground below. Only latter in his our heroes’ journey would the anomaly be fully understood. He shrugged it off and made his way back inside. As he left, he realised the TK protecting him from the cold.
Taves made his way to the washroom; he needed a piss like his life depended on it. It was then that he remembered how much he hated beer. ‘Oh man, beer tastes like cow urine, not that I’ve drank cow urine before.’ He laughed. The washroom was near the front entrance, Taves passed the bouncers he saw on his way in, remembering his new found confidence; he couldn’t help but grin. The washroom light was dramatically bright to a degree that was seemingly unnecessary. He squinted, and allowed his eyes to adjust. As he walked towards the urinal, the washroom lights flickered a bit and then dimmed slightly. He smiled, knowing full well he had turned down the brightness. Taves was a thinker, he couldn’t help it; he was born this way. Even now, while in the washroom, Taves found himself wondering the origin, cause, and reason why he was able to influence light. ‘Will it go away? Perhaps God has given me this power?’ He was determined to seek out the ‘why?’ and prepared to go to the ends of the world if need be. ‘The power of light! I wonder what else can I do?’
Taves heard a noise at the door way of the washroom. A large man, barely able to walk, slowly made his way in and found what he thought was a urinal, ready to release his bladder; in the sink. Taves chuckled for a second, and then understood he should probably help the man find his way.
“Hey buddy, that’s where we wash our hands,” Taves guided him to the urinal along the wall, “this is where you do the other thing. Okay?”
The man had only few words of praise, “you’re awesome,” was what he burped out. Taves laughed out loud, patted the guy on his back and went back to washing his hands.
Climbing Mount Olympus: Episode 3
It was then that Taves felt abruptly cold, as if someone or something had opened a window, but that wasn’t the case. He looked around, ‘where is that coming from?’ he thought. With an alarming thud, the washroom door swung open hard. Taves glanced over, but the shadowy figures were still on the other side of the door way, lurking in the dark; the two men entered. They were both tall and bulky, and looked so similar in dress and appearance they could be brothers. The first was a Man in Black; he wore a black leather jacket, black pants, and a black t-shirt—it was ‘a bit too much dark’ thought Taves. What was worse was the smell coming from them of leather, hair gel, cheep cologne, and cigarette smoke. His friend was dressed the same with the replacement of a Red t-shirt. Greg thought for sure that the two resembled characters from the soprano’s or some other mobster film. Their faces were blank and expressionless; they both ran their hands through their dark black hair while looking in the mirror. They spoke to each other quietly and Taves had trouble understanding their words—‘were they speaking another language?’ The scene was uncomfortable, but the staggering large drunk man was about to matters a whole lot worse.
“Spi-uck!” was the sound the large man made as he vomited. Taves felt an instant shock as the mess covered the porcelain floor and ever so slightly the left shoe of the Man in Black. He was furious.
“Lick it off my shoe!” yelled the Man in Black, as he extended his hand, grabbing hold of the large man’s sweater, forcing him to his feet. Red said nothing, he only starred at Taves, sizing him up, waiting to see if he’d do anything at all. And Taves knew he should do something. All his life, he had had somewhat of a ‘hero-complex,’ while usually it plagued him, causing unnecessary grief; he deemed the situation ‘hero-appropriate,’ it was time to step up.
“Relax. He didn’t mean it. He’s drunk, can’t you see?” The two dark figures merely starred. They had no words, only the curious stare. The Man and Black dropped the large man and took a step towards Taves.
“You can lick it off, if you’d like.” The mans words were so typical, Taves couldn’t help but jest,
“Seriously? I feel like I’m in a Bruce Willis movie right now, and you two are the dumbass goons who completely underestimate the hero because he doesn’t fit their definition of a badass bone-cracker!” Taves said the words as if watching himself on T.V. He took a breath, and then a pause, (in order to gather his thoughts) considering his position on the matter. It was then he realised. “Shit. I’m dead.” Red moved slowly; As if time itself was staggered. Taves could hear his own heart pounding. So loud was the sound his heart made, matched only by the sound of the fluorescent lights as they flickered. The Man in Black looked up. Confused, his eye brows bent in, ‘what’s the hell?’ he muttered. The lights moved up and down in unison with Taves’ heart palpitations. He couldn’t move his arms or legs. He wanted too, but his fear was so paralyzing. He ordered himself with no avail, “Move. Run. Light—thing—go!” Red firmed his hand around Taves’ neck, ready to lift him off his feet. At that precise moment, time relapsed to normality, and Taves felt as if some of his physical strength left his body—strange, he remained still—but the washroom lights erupted with extreme brightness, and then without warning, exploded. The room was dark and Red realised his grip in order to shield his eyes from falling glass. Taves took advantage. He knew what he had done; he sprinted out of the darkness and into the Bub. “I need to find the guys, we’ve gotta get out of here!”
Seguin saw Taves frantically running from the other side of the bar. He knew something was wrong by the way Taves approached. Taves reached the table.
“We need to go, now, no time to explain!” Taves was out of breath. He looked back, half expecting the Twins to be in hot pursuit. But what he saw next shocked him even more. They had left the washroom as Taves did, in a hurry, but stopped suddenly, averting their attention from Taves, over to where the bar was situated. “What are they doing?” Taves mumbled slowly, without even looking at his friends,
“What is it Greg?” Swartz petitioned.
Seguin knew it was the Twins. They were the ones responsible for the problem. He tried peering into their minds, unsure if that was even what he was doing. ‘Hate. Violence. Found Her!’ Seguin could make no sense from his search, only to know that these men were trouble.
“It’s them. They were about to kick my ass, for no reason at all, but then I—” Taves’ speech trailed off, as he pointed to his attackers by the bar. Swartz watched them. Swartz was calm and collected. They seemed to be asking for a drink, and from who else but her, Amelia. Swartz knew the smile. She leaned in to hear the order, but then her smile went away. She was a happy person, this much was clear, but whatever the Man in Black said made her eyes become sad, and seemed to drain the very life from her. Swartz had seen enough. He wasted no time.
“We need to go!” Seguin shouted.
But Swartz said nothing. He walked up to the bar without any deviance in his temper of mood. He approached the Twins.
“Hey Amelia. I forgot to get your number; I’m going to need it if we’re going to get that drink.”
The Twins took no notice of him.
“Are you friends of Amelia?” Swartz’s question received no answer. He waved his hand in front of Red’s face.
“I was actually talking to you.” Swartz reiterated, but shed his kind tone.
“We don’t need your help. We need nothing. Leave.” Red’s words were spoken deeply. He still would not look away from Amelia. Swartz was getting impatient. Their attitude was not only insulting, but Amelia was clearly disturbed by their insistence. ‘What did they say to her?’ he thought.
Swartz was through mixing words. His power enabled him to put his foot down without hesitation. He let them know exactly what was on his mind. He put his hand on Red’s shoulder, slowly moving him back. The twins were baffled. ‘How could such a man complete such a feat?’ Amelia watched as Red was pushed back, with no exertion by Swartz.
“We’ll go.” Red said, with a concerned look about him.
“Amelia. vox pro totus!” The Man in Black was speaking another language clearly, but Swartz had no clue what it meant. The two turned to leave. Swartz went back to Amelia, hoping to help. It was then that the Twins rushed back, grabbing Swartz with no warning and with combined strength tossing him across the floor; his head smashing against a table. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t protect it. He was hurt.
“Come on!” Taves couldn’t bear to see his friend in pain, he had to help.
“What?” Seguin was hesitant. He wanted to get involved and be the hero, but he had little confidence in his own strength against two giants. Taves rushed over.
“Swartz—Swart? Wake up.” Swartz was not moving a whole lot. Some blood was coming out of deep cut on his head. “Shit!” Taves shouted. Everyone in Bub was rustling, while some were running out the door, others were cheering as if at a sporting event. Amelia lifted the bar door, hoping to make a break for it, or to Swartz, you couldn’t tell. But Red grabbed her.
“Don’t. It’s already started!” Red reiterated while trying to restrain a frantic Amelia. Seguin saw the desperate situation and decided it was time to grow a pair. While Taves was by Swartz’s, Seguin approached Red, in his head, he told the man, ‘Don’t touch me’ Hoping his power was actually useful or real.
“Let her go, Big Red.” Seguin laughed.
Almost immediately, Red drew his fist back, preparing to strike Seguin’s face, but at that crucial moment when fist meets face, the hand came to a abrupt halt, as if stopped by some invisible force. Red looked at his own hand, and then at Seguin, and then back to the hand again. He was confused and not smart to begin with. He tried again but the same thing happened; his first stopped inches before breaking Seguin’s nose. ‘Good boy. Now, let her go and stay put.’ Red did as Seguin’s thoughts commanded him, and she left his grip fleeing for the door. She hesitated for a second, looking back at a collapsed Swartz. She wanted make sure he was okay, but she had more pressing matters to attend to; she was gone. Seguin tried to convince her to stay.
“Wait. It’s not safe to run out when everyone’s in panic mode. What about Swartz? Please stay? This rescue sucked!” Seguin was not experienced with this sort of thing. He looked back to his friends, hoping to help again, but this time dealing with the other giant twin.
“Who are you people?” demanded the Man in Black. Taves didn’t answer. He tried to shine bright enough to blind the creep. But just as the light escaped his hands, the Man in Black got hold of him, lifting him off his feet, throwing him behind directly into Seguin who was approaching. Red turned and grabbing hold of Seguin he slammed his first into his face. Seguin was bleeding from the mouth; trying desperately to focus his thoughts, but he couldn’t. He was confused, thinking that he had taken care of Red, only to see him return with authority. Seguin then understood the importance of focus, without it, his power would be sustained, a lesson learned as he wiped the blood from his jaw.
“To be honest, Your mom was more intense last night.” Seguin was getting bold. He had already crossed the threshold of suffering as a result of the unfortunate events, how could things become worse? At the moment that Red was about to drop his third punch into Seguin’s face, his first was once again halted. Seguin was confused. “I didn’t do it.” He said aloud. It was Swartz now on his feet but no one had seen him rise. His arm was extended, and Red’s first slowly retracted, bashing Red’s own face, three times; he fell to the ground.
“Cheep shot for cheep shot,” Swartz was angry. He was hurt, his friends were hurt, and from what he could see Amelia was gone. The Man in Black made a run at Swartz hoping to catch him off guard again. No such luck. Swartz extended the other arm, hoisting the man off the ground and drawing him close. The others watched on with awe, as Swartz seemingly levitated a human being with the move of his hand, “You should have left when I gave you the chance,” And with his words, he threw the Man in Black over the Bar, pass the dance floor and through the patio window landing him outside on the curb. The Man in Black moved only enough to stagger away, removing glass and favouring his right arm; he made his escape into the forest across the street. Red had nearly knocked himself out with his own punches. The three friends were now standing together, noticing the empty Bub. The excitement was a little much for some people. Taves went first,
“You okay?” gesturing to Swartz.
“I’m okay. You okay?” Swartz turning to Seguin,
“Yea, it just hurts here, on my entire face! I just got the shit kicked out of me man, I’m not okay! You were lifting a person up with voodoo, while, I’m pretty sure, Taves’ hands were glowing like light bulbs. And oh yea, I’m in peoples heads, like, all the time. If you don’t include any of that nonsense, then yes, I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m good.” Swartz answered. He seemed more impressed and pleased to learn that his friends were too dealing with the supernatural in everyday life. Taves was shocked, but also thrilled.
“So, now what?” Taves wondered.
“This means something. We can’t take this moment for granted or pretend none of it happened. This is not a curse, we have a purpose.” Swartz was passionate.
“So what is that purpose?” Seguin questioned.
“Let’s walk out that door and find out.” Taves showed his determination. He wasn’t afraid anymore, and was ready to face anything, for real.
The three friends walked towards the door, as the door opened, Seguin saw the black Lincoln. He understood that the Twins were the two men in the front seat. But now the back seat was abandoned. ‘Where was the man in the back, the one clocked in shadow?’ The empty car sat parked and still. The streets were abandoned too. Seguin was alone now, all alone. He stepped out of the doorway and was transported to the middle of nowhere, an open field where fields of wheat surrounded him on every side. In the distance he sees a stirring in the clouds, what can only be described as a lightning storm. Seguin took a breath. The air was clean. The breeze was warm. Olympus was coming. Olympus was here. He closed his eyes.
The next moment, Seguin opened his eyes only find himself at home in bed. It was a Wednesday and he was late for school. His alarm was blaring and his shirt was soaked in sweat. ‘It was a dream, the whole thing was dream, but was it?’ He stirred a bit, not really wanting to get up, hoping that the dream was just a dream. He had an exam that day, a Roman History exam, and he wasn’t pleased, knowing full well it was scheduled in the stadium where a small waiting room awaited. He picked up his cell phone, noticing he had a new message. The text was from Swartz. It read: “New bar opened up, let’s go this weekend.” Seguin could only sit on his bed, taking in the oddness, the frightful coincidence of it all; or perhaps it was providence. He responded to his friend, “Is the Bub called Olympus?”
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