Time will remember (Chapter 1)

1

The azure sun crawls groggily from her slumber, clawing her way up and over the horizon to cast her warmth upon the cities skyline. Chicago is waking up to another crisp winter morning, it's buildings rising stolidly from the streets to meet the sky. Cars begin to fill the boulevards and avenues once again as another Friday morning looms. If you listen, you can hear it, the bustle of the city as she opens her doors once again. There is a brisk chill to the air that brings a slight shiver to the backs of the inhabitants of the fair city, as they hustle to and fro, beginning their daily chores. Snow still remains in little chunks here and there to remind everyone that winter is not through with them just yet. As if that isn't enough, you can even hear the ice sloshing along in the flow of the Chicago River, if you can bear to stand close enough, enduring the bitter breeze that rolls relentlessly from it. Even the waters of Great Lake Michigan show the brutal scar of winters wrath. The sun glares against the lakes mostly frozen surface with great glee revealing a brilliant sheen of ice as far as the eye can see.

The windy city is as beautiful today with the sun creeping between the buildings, stealing the darkness away, as any summer day could ever be. The sun can be seen running in streams and rivulets down the glass of the monstrous towers and offices of the city. How can one but stand in awe of the masterpiece of it all, gazing at God's glory lovingly.

Jennifer looked up at the brilliant blue morning sky and thought to herself just how lucky she was to be here in this very moment. She was one of those people who often saw things in a slightly different light than most. While she was repulsed by the thought of another day trudging along mindlessly, serving drinks to the same poor bastards as always, she had this one moment every day to herself. Standing on a crowded sidewalk, in a busy city...all by herself. The sun pushing itself into the city like an invader of foreign lands always brought him to mind. She remembered all too well, if only she could forget.

These thoughts bombarded her, though she tried steadfastly to ignore them. With a deep breath and a sigh, she broke her morning ritual meditation in front of her 5th Street apartment, and strode purposefully down the walk toward work. She couldn't afford to be late for work again or Harry would likely fire her, or worse, ask for a "favor" to retain her as an employee. Jennie hated to think of that man...what a pig, she thought to herself as she rushed along. No matter, though, she could handle that jerk, she had so many times before.

She turned the corner of 5th and vine finally and could see joes pub, her place of gainful employment, and source of never ending stress looming ahead. I'll bet that bitch Bell didn't even wash the damn mugs last night again, she fretted angrily. That sick feeling permeated her gut more and more with each step making her wish she had just called in sick. I hate this damn job, she thought.

She stopped in front of the thick wooden door to joes and stared at it with disgust thick in her eyes. Another one of her daily habits, that. If anyone were to open that door at that precise moment, boy would they get a shock! The hatred in her eyes was enough to stop a charging lion dead in it's tracks. After a few seconds, Jennie snugged her purse under her arm, stood up straight, and ripped the door open with force. In she barged, heading straight for the large polished bar and the small office beyond. Good, she thought, the asshole must be in the stockroom jerking off. She laughed at her own inward attempt at comedy at Harry's expense. After she had placed all her stuff securely in the small locker that Harry so graciously provided, hung her coat, and donned her apron, she headed back out into the main room of the bar to see what bull was in store for her this morning.

Well, it seems the witch managed to wash the glasses, she thought as she strode past the cabinet where they were stored. All the bottles were stocked, the dishes washed...as a matter of fact, the place was immaculate. Jennifer stood in shock, this had never happened before. Everything was in order, everything was in it's place..and clean to boot!

"Harry!" she bellowed harshly. She heard a bump and a crash from the back room, and laughed to herself. What a klutz, she thought as she stomped towards the stockroom. The squeak her sneakers made as she came to an abrupt halt not twenty feet from the stockroom doors echoed loudly through joes pub. The doors had opened before she reached them, revealing a tall, rather large man who was most assuredly not Harry. This man was bald. Well, his head was shaved anyway. He had a goatee, and a rather long one at that. Not the kind of guy you'd want to meet in a dark alley, most people would say on first meeting him. He held a towel in his hands and was wiping his hands frantically on it. He had a very nervous expression plastered on his face, but it was soon replaced with a rather stony one. All traces of trepidation left him so quickly, Jennifer wondered if she had even noticed it in the first place.

"Hey," the stranger said in a baritone voice that for some reason brought shivers to her. "My name is Rich, Harry hired me yesterday to run the place. You must be...Jennifer is it?"

She just stood there with a quizzical look on her face. Her dishwater blond hair framed her aquiline features, and her petite frame made her look all the more fragile as she stood there in shock.

"You got a voice girl?"

"Where is Harry?" A most appropriate question, she thought.

"I don't know where the prick went," he said in a giggle, "He said he had to leave town and needed someone to run this shit-hole for awhile. As stupid as it sounds, I was here drinking last night when he asked me if I'd be interested. Well, I had nothing better to do."

The intimidation and fear she had felt at first was dissolving under the friendly smile and easy attitude of this strange man. She caught a scent of his cologne across the room, then, and her heart skipped a beat. It must have been quite apparent in her features, because he stood up a little straighter and a look of concern flashed across his face.

"Yeah, my name is Jennifer. Are you serious," she tried to mask her own weakness. It was that smell, the very same "he" had worn. Visions of Cincinnati filled her mind, bathing her in the past. She tried so very hard to ignore it, but her head was starting to spin. Her knees began to buckle, and she felt herself starting to fall. "No...."