{"id":19355,"date":"2025-03-29T19:24:18","date_gmt":"2025-03-30T00:24:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/?p=19355"},"modified":"2025-04-10T18:14:36","modified_gmt":"2025-04-10T23:14:36","slug":"drinkers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/archives\/19355","title":{"rendered":"DRINKERS"},"content":{"rendered":"

Goodnight, man. Go home, or go find yourself another dive, lots of places still open. I\u2019m closing up. That\u2019s life, Henry, and it\u2019s short. Even shorter for your generation. But that\u2019s how it\u2019s always been for you, so maybe you don\u2019t notice.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

285, Henry. I\u2019m 285 years old.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But don\u2019t get me started on that forever shit. They got us good. Used to sell forever to us in little bottles, shelves like the ones behind me stacked floor-to-ceiling with their stupid vials. Elixir my ass. I\u2019ll be lucky if I make it another two decs. I know I don\u2019t look much older than you, Henry, but trust me: you\u2019ll be around long after I\u2019m gone.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Lots of people I know, still walking around like they\u2019re never going to nix it. Maybe that was me, at some point, if I\u2019m being honest. But I think I always had some doubts, way in the back of my head. Too many sharp objects out there, and these bodies of ours, these small, squishy things, they were never meant to last this long.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I ever tell you about my knee? Fucked it up when I was in my fourth dec, just a few years after Velk\u2019s elixir. Could\u2019ve tried surgery, but I got spooked by the knife, so I\u2019ve been waking up with this pain for damn near 250 years. Take care of your body, Henry. It\u2019s a perfect instrument till one thing breaks, then everything starts falling apart.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t fun the whole time, no. We did all kinds of dumb shit when we started drinking elixir, but by the end of it we forgot how to live. I\u2019d start shaking sometimes, just trying to cross a busy street. It\u2019s one thing, getting hit by a bus when you\u2019ve only got a few years or decs left on the clock\u2014but when you have forever, any little thing might take it away. We got scared, all of us drinkers. The only person who had any sense was an old ex of mine, and she\u2019s dead now.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Yeah Henry, she died. Nix. Finit\u00e9. Curtains. But you don\u2019t have anyone like that, Henry, so maybe that makes you lucky.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Her name was Brynn. California girl. Beach girl from Santa Barbara, two hours north of L.A. I lived there with her for two-and-a-half decs, and I still wonder if I didn\u2019t just hallucinate the whole thing. Cheap sex and cheap beer, all those kids dancing in the ocean, something not quite real about the whole place.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s a long story, better we pick it up some other time. Go home, man. I swear you\u2019re more stubborn than me when I was your age.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fine then, what the hell. One last round. One. And only because I like you.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I remember when you were born, Henry. An actual baby, kicking and screaming, the first kid I\u2019d seen in years. I hadn\u2019t seen a real kid since the population capped at ten billion. But then your uncle drowned in the Hudson, and they let you come along and take his place. Man, sometimes I can\u2019t wrap my head around how young you are.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You don\u2019t even remember, do you, the day the drinkers died? Doubt your mom and dad said anything to you. Most folks don\u2019t like to talk about it.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Started twelve years ago. Business was better, back then. I\u2019d just finished up a long shift, right here behind this counter. Clocked out, went up those steps, out into summer and Friday night on the Lower East Side, you know the drill: rats eating the garbage, kids running on ketamine, all these young people with their neon smiles and their cigarette laughter. Young-looking, at least. A lot of them born just a dec or two after me, but on Friday nights it makes all the difference, whether you started drinking elixir at 30 or 40.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t mind it so much, back then, knew how to move through those bodies even if I\u2019d never join them. Don\u2019t stop mid-stride, someone\u2019s coming up behind you. They say Manhattan always changes, but nothing ever really changes. Even back then, even when we had all the time in the world, we\u2019d still get pissed off at the guy in front of us walking too slow.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Anyway. I\u2019m getting some pizza from this overlit hole on Essex, lots of people in tank tops shouting for no reason, and the speakers are blasting this godawful 200-year-old dubstep, the bass thumping in my skull, and then everyone\u2019s screens light up at the same time. And that\u2019s how we learn that Ambrexia\u2019s gone bankrupt. Elixir\u2019s gone kaput, the end.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Everything got real quiet all of a sudden. All these people turn and look at each other, confused and kinda worried, wondering. But I don\u2019t think anyone believed it yet, right then, right when the news broke.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And then there\u2019s some more mumbling, and everyone remembers they\u2019re still sloshed. And the voices all come back louder, and by the time I finish my slice the music\u2019s thumping again.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Friday night, elixir be damned.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I figured it was a nice joke, some satire piece or performance art trick that had gotten out of hand. It\u2019s not like I felt any different, without elixir. Business as usual for me the next day. But other people were freaking the fuck out.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You remember those first weeks, Henry? People kneeling in front of the statues of Velk, worshiping at the pharmacies, praying for Ambrexia. It\u2019s any fool\u2019s guess when it all started to go to shit\u2014maybe we\u2019d already been aging for months, maybe it\u2019s just that no one noticed till that Friday night. But <\/span>\u200b<\/span><\/span>\u200b<\/span><\/span>after that night, we started seeing the new wrinkles and white hairs in our mirrors. And pretty soon after that, we started to call it the Graying.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There used to be this big bronze statue outside City Hall. Dr. Thomas Velk, larger-than-life in that turtleneck under his whitecoat, holding up his elixir like Lady Liberty\u2019s torch. Velk, the First Immortal, Father of Ambrexia. You remember? A month after all the praying started, some clown went and tagged the word \u2018immortal\u2019 with red paint, an apostrophe and a slash. All the news channels had this picture going around with Velk\u2019s statue and under it, \u2018I\u2019m\/mortal\u2019. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

They could\u2019ve just scrubbed out the graffiti, but the city went and took down the whole statue instead. You ask me, that\u2019s when the Graying really began.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And the cancers started kicking in again.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I was afraid to call Brynn, but when they took that statue down, I knew I couldn\u2019t wait much longer. They had her over at the Velk Center in Santa Barbara, hooked up to a thousand machines. She\u2019s younger than me, but man, she looked tired. Older. That was the first time I\u2019d thought that about anyone in 200 years. I remember looking down at her face in my phone, her tiny face, and I could see her skull poking through. She had half her head shaved, and the yellow hair that was left looked like it wasn\u2019t attached to her scalp.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

First thing she does is give me this snippet from a poem, Dickinson, I still remember it. It goes, Because I could not stop for Death \/ He kindly stopped for me \/ The Carriage held but just Ourselves \/ And Immortality.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I go, I\u2019m too old for poetry.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Brynn goes, Don\u2019t lie to yourself, Terry.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I made some crack about how she always had to be the teacher, couldn\u2019t quit to save her life, and she told me she already did. Coughed up blood the day after we got the news about the Graying, put in her two-weeks\u2019 notice. She went through her list of people, started calling numbers right away, but she skipped me. Said she wasn\u2019t sure whether I\u2019d care to know or not.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I say to her, I can\u2019t believe you\u2019re fucking dying again.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Brynn laughs and says she\u2019s glad I called. Says it\u2019s not as bad as back then, pre-elixir. Says something about how she\u2019s ready for it, this time around. But I could see her eyes, and they were like these two blue flames, shivering, and I knew she wasn\u2019t ready.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then she starts to sound sleepy, so I hang up. And then I feel really alone in my room. I turn on the TV and try watching a show about this old couple, scuba diving off the ruins of Venice, but that makes me feel even lonelier <\/span>and<\/span><\/i> old. And I remember I laid awake in bed all night, wondering about Brynn, waiting for the sky to turn light again.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That was the first time I talked to her in years, maybe decs. Sometimes I forget if things happened fifteen or fifty years ago, it all blurs together.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I was about your age, Henry, when I met her. Everyone I knew had already graduated from college, but I hadn\u2019t even started. My old man thought I had too much time, so he sent me to Santa Barbara to take care of my great-aunt, who wasn\u2019t doing too hot. She nixed it before anyone ever heard of Velk, but I don\u2019t think she would\u2019ve taken elixir if she could have. Some folks were weird like that.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Anyway. My great-aunt would see me with a book in my face all the time, and she told me to go check out this career fair at the college. So I went to the big, squared-off bell tower made of concrete, right in the middle of campus, you could see it from anywhere in Santa Barbara. Funded by some last-millennium millionaire named Storke, this old dude who wanted people to remember his name after he nixed it.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I got to the career fair late, but there were some newspaper kids still there, throwing a party in the offices under the tower. Brynn was an editor there. I remember seeing her in a corduroy jacket sipping a can of cider, and I thought she looked too smart for me. But I went up to her and said, Is this the career fair at Storke Tower?\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And she goes, This <\/span>was<\/span><\/i> the career fair at Storke Tower. Now it\u2019s the afterparty at Storke\u2019s Last Erection.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We were stupid kids.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She was an English major who had this thing for poetry. And I\u2019d read a lot of Bukowski and Dickinson, so we got to talking, and that week she brought me to one of the open mics on Pardall. And all the parties after. We started hanging out every day, and pretty soon I was teaching her how to ride a skateboard. We used to bring our boards up to the top of this parking garage and do these bomb runs, skate our way down all five floors. We\u2019d practice our ollies and cruise around at night when the whole campus was our own empty playground. Always felt like we were going to get in trouble, but we never did.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Me and Brynn, we were together for twenty-five years. You know someone for so long, you think you have forever with them. Maybe that\u2019s why I didn\u2019t miss her too much after we split\u2014I figured she would always be around. Just give her a ring, and she\u2019d pick up.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But now, seeing her face in my phone, I knew she was on her way out for good. And I fucking missed her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I take two weeks off and fly out to Santa Barbara. Soon as I come out of that metal corridor into the airport terminal, the men in whitecoats walk up to me, flashing their shiny cards, Department of Anti-Aging Research. This slick-haired babyface guy looking at me with big, hawk-brown eyes.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Terrence? he says. And I say yes, and the three of them take me aside. Take me in a van to the nearest test center, and I get a lot of blood taken out of me. Then to a sad old motel, even further out of town than the airport. All these new rules that the Department had made up for travelers, because of the Graying.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Babyface\u2019s name is Solis. He tells me I can\u2019t get anywhere near Brynn till my test results come in. Whatever it is that\u2019s going around, they don\u2019t want it spreading.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I go, Cancer\u2019s not contagious.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He shakes his head. Says it\u2019s airborne, the virus that made the elixir stop working, and I\u2019d infect Brynn, the entire hospital staff, if I had it. It was also pure bullshit. He and those whitecoats weren\u2019t ever going to find a real explanation for the Graying, but at that point they weren\u2019t about to admit it.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I play along. I ask how long I have to wait in the motel. And Babyface Solis gives me this huge stack of papers, stuff I couldn\u2019t fill out without calling up my insurance, my doctor, the DMV for some reason. Endless bureaucracy.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I look at him and go, This will take forever.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And he goes, Relax. There will be time.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he hands me this tablet with a strip of light at the top, a heart-reader. The light blinks green, it means Brynn\u2019s sleeping. Solid green, it means Brynn\u2019s awake, and I can turn on the screen to chat with her.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Sure, you can always use your phone, Solis says. But the heart-reader\u2019s designed for doctors, state-of-the-art. One quick glance at the light, and you can see how the patient is holding up, don\u2019t have to get anxious about checking on them 24\/7. It\u2019s almost like having them in the room with you.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t need another portal to Brynn\u2019s wasting face. I\u2019d already been talking to her just fine, 2,000 miles away on the other side of the country. But now, I wasn\u2019t even twenty miles away, and they wouldn\u2019t let me go and see her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I decide instead of pulling her up on the screen, I\u2019ll just wait till they clear my tests, make it a nice surprise when I show up in person. I slip the tablet in a backpack, figure maybe I\u2019ll check up on her later.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I do the next best thing and I meet up with Brynn\u2019s sister. Emmeline was the older one, but she\u2019s one of those people who\u2019ll never really get old. She does the weather channel, has to keep up her looks. Just keeps adding more plastic every year.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I saw her twelve years ago, back in Santa Barbara, Em didn\u2019t have much plastic yet. She was wearing this white denim miniskirt, and she shouted my name when I got off the bus on State Street, and we hugged for the first time in something like 150 years. She looked a lot like Brynn\u2014only more alive, more than a face on a screen, at least.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I shake hands with her husband, this hedge fund manager type named Whitfield Hart. Brynn used to call him the Whit-less Wonder, sometimes to his face. He had muscles bulging under a t-shirt that said, Hope You\u2019re Feelin\u2019 Lucky, Pal.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>They\u2019d come down the coast from Carmel, almost got in a wreck when this deer jumped onto the highway, right into their lane. You could have nixed us both, Whit keeps saying to Em, because she\u2019d been the one driving his Porsche. And she was probably distracted because she\u2019d noticed this new mole on her shoulder the night before.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You\u2019re making a mountain out of that stupid mole, Whit says. We\u2019re aging again, so what? Long as you weren\u2019t sick before the elixir, like Brynn was, you\u2019ll be fine.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And they\u2019re still bickering when we spot a dozen or so people kneeling in front of this boarded-up Walgreens, hands cupped and raised up to the sky. All of them wearing Velk-coats, like the doctors\u2019 whitecoats, but with these big green collars, the colors of their church. The Sons and Daughters of Velk. You\u2019ve seen them around. Basically a cult, and it\u2019s really funny to me, how they\u2019re still praying for the elixir to work again, even today. But I guess we all need to believe in something, don\u2019t we, Henry?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So Em starts walking, wants to get away from those cult people, quick. And she starts going on about how they\u2019re all in league with the Anti-Aging Research Department, all these whitecoat creeps, and fuck what Velk thinks, no one\u2019s heard a word from him since the Graying started. She says a lot of things, but she doesn\u2019t mention her sister once.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We walk for a little bit downtown, past all the Spanish tiles and palm trees and kids riding beach cruisers. It\u2019s nice out, not too warm with that breeze coming off the Pacific. Kinda spooky how it all looks exactly the same as it was when I lived there. We stop for dinner at a fancy place, lobster tacos and margaritas with the pink Himalayan salt. And Em takes a bunch of polaroid pics, and anyone who saw them would think we were all on some great vacation. They wouldn\u2019t think there was anyone missing.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I reach into my bag and pull out that tablet. Only the blinking green light, though\u2014no Brynn.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Em sees it and she goes, Why do you have a heart-reader with you?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Whit goes, Yeah, why\u2019d you bring your backpack? You look like a student or something.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And then, feeling kinda dumb, I go, They won\u2019t let me see Brynn in person.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Turns out the whitecoats at the Velk Center wouldn\u2019t let Em see her sister, either. You\u2019d think it would be easier for blood relations, but she had to go through all the same red tape as me. And the thing is, she didn\u2019t seem to mind. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ll send her some pictures, Em says, all cheerful. Smile!<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But I put my hand up and go, I don\u2019t want her to know I\u2019m here yet\u2014I want to surprise her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Em just shrugs and holds up her camera for a selfie with Whit.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I go, Aren\u2019t you worried about her?\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Em goes, We\u2019ve had an extra 250 years to see each other, right?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But she wasn\u2019t looking at me as she said it. And I didn\u2019t feel like arguing with Em, that ageless blonde. Or Whit, with those big veins popping out against his pale skin. I was just their shadow, dark-haired and built like a toothpick, like a member of some other species. So I didn\u2019t argue either when we piled into the Porsche and headed toward the college.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We pull up in I.V. after sundown\u2014Isla Vista, where all those forever-21 students lived, just off-campus. World\u2019s greatest shithole. <\/span>\u200b<\/span><\/span>It was July and all the kids were out of school, but they were still hanging around. Party school. Lots of parties, elixir or no elixir, no one in much of a hurry to get back to the suburbs for the summer. They were raging all day out on the cliffs, all along this new metal railing. Those cliffs were eroding, fast. It got so bad about a century ago, two whole blocks of apartments full of students fell into the water. Like all those old houses in Venice, just gone the next morning.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The students didn\u2019t give a shit. It only added to the thrill of living there, in I.V. And I knew that feeling\u2014it was exactly like that when I lived there with Brynn. But man, I didn\u2019t like being back with Em and Whit. I couldn\u2019t stand it, being there and not being young.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Soon as we get out of the car, Whit goes, Yo, let\u2019s do the Loop.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I go, Fuck no.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But Em goes, Let\u2019s do it. For old times\u2019 sake.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So we do it. The Loop changes with the bars every year, but the end goal\u2019s the same: you map out every spot in I.V. that serves booze, and you make all the stops. Red solo cup shit. I.V.\u2019s a tiny place, not even two square miles, but there\u2019s booze for days, and Em and Whit are living it up like they always do. And my gut can\u2019t take all those Pacificos and tequila shots, not anymore, so I\u2019m just stumbling along behind them from one spot to the next.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And the drinks keep on coming. I manage not to think about Brynn for a little while, until we end up in this ancient dive called The Study Hall, great name for a terrible bar, and I couldn\u2019t take another sip of anything. So I start fumbling with the heart-reader, one-handed, and I\u2019ve still got a bottle in my other hand, I don\u2019t know what I\u2019m thinking. I spill my beer and then the tablet slips through my fingers, hits the tile floor hard. The tablet\u2019s fine, though, just this slab of med-grade glass, not a scratch.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And the light\u2019s still doing its slow, green blink.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I remember going outside for some air, and this skater kid comes zipping by, almost knocks me flat on my ass. And I see these two girls, maybe sisters, covered in glitter, sitting on the sidewalk with a puddle of vomit between them. One of them goes, Dude, I don\u2019t understand why I am this fucked up.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I\u2019m trying to remember all the times Brynn and Em ended up shitfaced like that when they were students here. Brynn\u2019s skinny but she\u2019s mostly pretty good at holding her liquor. I was pretty good too, way back in those days.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t believe I was back there again, some 200 years later. I was limping all over the place because I\u2019d forgotten to bring this cream that my doc prescribed, to help with my knee. My knee gets all swollen when I\u2019ve been walking around too long. I\u2019m 285 and I don\u2019t always remember it, but every time I hear skateboard wheels rattling on pavement, man, Henry, I feel old.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I brought some elixir with me to Santa Barbara, kept a few vials on the nightstand in the motel room. I didn\u2019t drink any of it, but I slept better at night just having it there. Everyone\u2019s a little superstitious. And besides, what if everything changed again, what if Brynn needed it all of a sudden? The FDA banned elixir a week after <\/span>\u200b<\/span><\/span>Ambrexia went bankrupt, so people were hoarding the stuff now. The Sons and Daughters of Velk, the uber-religious types, they were still taking little sips of it during their prayers to Velk. Once-weekly Ambrexia. For Health. For Life. Forever.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Go ahead, laugh. You think we\u2019re real dumbasses, don\u2019t you, Henry? Us old drinkers\u2014we\u2019ve been around for so many decs, our time feels cheap to us, cheap enough to waste. You\u2019re lucky you\u2019re not like us, Henry. Least your time still means something to you.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The last thing I remember from that night is coming down the street after The Study Hall, all three of us, trashed. Whit trips over his feet and starts crawling along, and he goes, I don\u2019t care, I still feel immortal.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Em goes, Yeah, well all the bars are closed.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t finish the Loop, barely got through half of it, and I don\u2019t remember how I got back up to my room. I just remember lying there in bed, shutting my eyes against the moonlight, and in my head I\u2019m going Fuck you Dr. Velk, you fucker, first you give us all the time in the world, now you\u2019re just taking it away?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe I was lucky to be alive for so long, but I sure didn\u2019t feel lucky. I missed my old life, pre-elixir. I was happy with Brynn back then, except she was getting sicker each year, this slow-burning lung cancer. Not a whole lot I could do for her. I thought we should get married, at one point, but she told me No, because she knew she didn\u2019t have long.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then we heard about these clinical trials for Ambrexia, for people who had Stage 4 cancer. They gave some of it to Brynn, and at first she couldn\u2019t believe it was working. But then they stopped her chemo, and slowly her hair grew back in, she could taste her food again. She walked out of the hospital and started crying, she was so happy, just being able to breathe the air.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She knew the cancer was still in her, frozen, and it would come back without Velk\u2019s elixir. So she knew she couldn\u2019t take it for granted.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Other drinkers, though, not so smart. I knew guys who were wrecking their cars in street races and ODing on Ambrexia, mixing those vials into their cocktails on a dare. As if living forever meant they could be teenagers again, get away with anything. Lots of their asses wound up in the hospital before they started getting serious.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And Brynn was telling me I couldn\u2019t be like them, couldn\u2019t afford to live carelessly, and of course I didn\u2019t listen to her. I drank elixir and started fucking things up left and right. I\u2019d been practicing this backside tailslide trick at the skatepark, and one day I landed bad on my knee, couldn\u2019t walk for weeks. Years of PT exercises, and I still couldn\u2019t get it back to how it was before. I didn\u2019t skate anymore after that.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The years were starting to bleed into each other. Brynn taught English lit over at the college, and I did odd jobs, most of them in bars. Day in, day out, just the two of us. We couldn\u2019t have kids because of the population cap. I thought Ambrexia had given us back our future, but all of a sudden I had a lot of time, and didn\u2019t know what to do with it. I was getting bored in Santa Barbara, nothing new except the names of the bars. I thought I just needed a change of scenery, but really I needed a whole new life.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t bring up marriage again. I was out with Brynn one day, walking along the beach, and I realized, I\u2019ll be honest, I was bored with her, too. That\u2019s the thing, you\u2019re either growing closer to someone, or you\u2019re growing apart. And I hated myself for it, but the thought of being with Brynn every day, waking up to the same face, the exact same face, for the rest of my life\u2014it scared me. What if there was someone I loved more than her, waiting for me somewhere else?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I told her I wanted to start seeing other people. And I moved back to New York. And I think it was the dumbest thing I ever did.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She\u2019d known for years, the way I wasn\u2019t holding her or looking at her like I did when she was sick. She said she didn\u2019t hate me for it\u2014she had a good heart, better than mine. But I still wondered if maybe she didn’t hate me just a little. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I still called her, sometimes while I was making dinner or laying alone in bed, just to make sure she was doing alright. But pretty soon we were only talking once a year, and then not even that. Time turned us into strangers again.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I found other people. Plenty of other fish in the sea, even after they capped us at ten billion. I had my share of flings, and some of them I\u2019ve had around most of my life, just a phone call away. But they never stick around in the morning. And I ask myself sometimes, Why are people like this? Why am I like this?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s inertia, Henry. People just tend to do the easy thing. People who\u2019ve been single awhile just tend to stay single. I used to lose sleep thinking about all the ones who could\u2019ve been the one, but that was years and decs ago, and now I guess I\u2019ve gotten too used to living on my own. I don\u2019t ever really think about Brynn or Santa Barbara, most days, not unless I\u2019m talking to people like you. You remind me of me sometimes, y\u2019know that?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Okay, Henry, one more round. Then you have to get the hell out of here, and I mean it.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Cheers.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I still had that heart-reader tablet, propped up next to my Ambrexia vials in the motel room, and I was afraid to use it. But I started noticing that green light more, because it was blinking more than it used to. Finally, after a few days, I notice it\u2019s solid green, and I turn it on.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Brynn looks even worse than last time. Lost almost all her hair, and her eyes have this washed-out look to them. She spends most of her days zonked out, hasn\u2019t had any fresh air in weeks, and it\u2019s fucking unfair, I say to her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m one of the lucky ones, she says. You were there when the doctors told me I only had a few weeks left. The elixir came along and gave me an extra 249 years.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Still, I say. None of this should be happening at all. How did that poem go? The carriage carried us to immortality?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She smiles. Says, Come visit me. Don\u2019t you miss Santa Barbara? Remember all those summer nights in I.V., drunk dancing down Pardall?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I notice one of the picture frames next to her bed, and it\u2019s her with her parents and Em at graduation, this scorching day by the campus lagoon, and I only recognize the picture because I\u2019m the one who took it. All those decs ago.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We\u2019re not young anymore, I say.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I know, she says. They won\u2019t let me drink anymore. But you can still come and have a couple for me, Terry.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I don\u2019t know why I didn\u2019t tell her I was already there, except it felt like I was worlds away.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I will, I tell her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Some people, all they need is a room with a comfy bed and a big screen. But after talking to Brynn, I kept trying to fill up that motel room with sound, switching through all the radio stations and TV channels. I even tried playing some porn movies in the background, real quiet, just so I could pretend that there was someone next door. I couldn\u2019t stand it, being there all by myself.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Solis comes around to check on me that afternoon, still in his whitecoat, skin glowing like he just got back from vacation. I know he can\u2019t be much younger than me, but I\u2019m sick of his face, the smoothness of it and those big brown eyes.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Listen, I say to him. I can\u2019t keep on doing this, chatting with Brynn on your little heart-reader screen.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We can always get you a bigger screen, Solis says.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He says it like it\u2019s funny. I could have smashed his perfectly smooth face with that tablet.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Look, I tell him, I didn\u2019t come all this way to be stuck in a motel room. If I knew it was going to be like this, I would\u2019ve stayed in New York, saved myself a plane ride.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He goes, It\u2019s the rules. He goes on about the virus again. Trying to sound all official, even though he was as confused as any of us. I knew he was just stalling. I wasn\u2019t going to eat any more of his BS.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I go, She\u2019s not doing good. I\u2019ve got to see her before it\u2019s too late, do you understand? I spent twenty-five years of my life with this woman.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But either he didn\u2019t hear me, or two-and-a-half decs didn\u2019t seem like much time to him, in the grand scheme of things.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There will be time, he says to me, and then he\u2019s gone.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I see all the elixir on my nightstand, those little gold vials, and suddenly I can\u2019t stand the sight of them. I don\u2019t even care that I brought them for Brynn. I dump all my Ambrexia down the sink. I go back to surfing channels, and it\u2019s just a bunch of news about the local Velk worshippers with their picket signs, Death is real! Pray the Gray away! I remember I ordered a cheeseburger that I didn\u2019t even touch, and then I fall asleep, and just like that, a whole week goes by.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But Solis must have pulled some strings for me, because one morning, there\u2019s an envelope sticking out under my door. I\u2019ve got my badge, all the papers I need, right there in my hands. I can go see Brynn.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I change into this sky-blue button-up shirt that I picked up, that I knew she would like. Put on a new pair of jeans. I\u2019m figuring out what to do with my hair, and then I get a good look at myself in the mirror, this weird wrinkled face and lanky body.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And that\u2019s when I realize, I\u2019m scared to go. I\u2019m scared to see her in person.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

On the tablet, I could still pretend she was someone else, almost like the Brynn behind the screen wasn\u2019t the real Brynn I knew in Santa Barbara, the girl who kept me sharp with her poetry and her jokes. The girl I missed. But if I walked into her hospital room, and I saw what she looked like now, more bones than flesh\u2014what if that was how I always pictured her from now on? And what if I had to say goodbye to her like that?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I glance over at the tablet, the solid green light. Brynn, awake.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I get the call from Em. Just two rings, and then she leaves a message.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Terry, she says. Come over to Goleta beach. Near campus gate. Come quick!<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I used to go to that beach all the time. There was black tar all up and down the sand from the offshore drilling, and the stuff took weeks to come off. Used to get it all over my feet. I spent lots of afternoons running shitfaced through the seaweed, sending up clouds of sand fleas. Lots of long-gone nights when I\u2019d come out by myself to hear the water against the sand, to see the stars and feel the weight of it all. Shit, I hate getting all sad and talking poetry, but something about that place has always made me see the world different.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That beach, that was where I broke up with Brynn.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to go back. It was the easiest thing to do.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I show up there still in jeans because Em said come quick, and way in the back of my head, where nothing made sense, I thought Brynn would be there too.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But when I get to the beach, it\u2019s just Em in a neon pink bikini picking something out of a cooler full of wine and vodka bottles. Whit\u2019s shirtless, got one massive arm around her waist. They\u2019re surrounded by a lot of people who look like them, all of them giggling. Someone\u2019s brought a big speaker, and I swear it\u2019s playing the same dubstep song from the pizza place, that night we all learned about the end of the elixir.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Partytime, Terry, she says, and it sounds like she\u2019s already four or five drinks deep. She goes, Why are you wearing pants?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I go, You called me out for this?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And that just makes her laugh even harder. Her limp fingers tugging at the leg of my jeans.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Take them off, she goes. Come into the water with me.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I see this flash of Brynn across her face, just for a second. But Em\u2019s face has too much symmetry, like something a factory spit out, and that\u2019s always been a little creepy to me. So I blink a few times and shake my head until I can get her face to look like Em\u2019s again.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I stay for a drink, because what the hell. There will be time, right?\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I have another couple drinks even though I\u2019d rather be anywhere else. Hell, I\u2019m starting to miss downtown Manhattan and its crush of bodies. I already have tar stuck to the bottom of my shoes, and all I\u2019ve done is lay there on a blanket with the sun heavy on my face, and I\u2019d rather take a nap than talk to anyone.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I keep getting these looks from Whit, like he could feel what I was thinking, and he didn\u2019t want me to be there either. Or maybe he was looking at me that way because he saw me looking over at Em, because I kept seeing Brynn\u2019s face there. But Brynn had never laughed the way her sister did now, with her whole face stretched wide and stupid.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What the fuck are you doing here? I think, as if Em will hear me think it. They\u2019ve got your sister in the hospital with the cancer about to nix her, and you\u2019re out here partytime-ing on the beach?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I watch Whit shotgun a Pacifico, one yellow can followed by another, while the other partytimers cheer him on. I watch Em walk out to the water with a funny spring in her steps. I watch a seagull turn slow circles in the big blue-gray above\u2026<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I open my eyes again, the sun\u2019s red and dipping itself into the ocean behind the oil rig. And the music\u2019s gone slow and tranquil and kinda nice. And my head is swimming, my eyes are sort of misted over, and there\u2019s this figure coming toward me from the water. Exactly who I think it is.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She looks like one of those goddesses stepping out of a Renaissance painting with a full head of hair, glowing. And nothing can touch her, not even cancer or time. I can\u2019t help it. I laugh out loud and I almost jump up and run over to her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then Whit\u2019s silhouette slinks in, and it all comes apart.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s his arms around her chest, feeling her up, like he wants me to watch. Like he saw something in my eyes, some sort of desire that wasn\u2019t there\u2014not the way he figured it, anyway. No. I never wanted anything to do with Emmeline. What I wanted was what she and him had, together, those two-and-a-half centuries.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She pushes and he pretends to fall. Then she\u2019s on top of him. They damn near start doing it right in front of me. Soon as Whit starts wiggling out of his trunks, I have to get out of there.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And my bad knee\u2019s gotten real bad again. I only notice it when I start walking. My jeans are all soaked, and I have some foggy memory of knocking over the cooler, before I fell asleep on the blanket. The cold\u2019s gotten into my knee, and the way it creaks now, I keep thinking the whole joint\u2019s about to snap. I\u2019m all sorts of messed up. Somehow I call a car to pick me up, and I get back up to my room and I puke in the sink. Then I sit on the bathroom floor, in the dark, dripping with cold sweat. I sit there for a long time. I don\u2019t know how long it is before I finally get back on my feet, and I look over at the heart-reader on my nightstand.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And the light\u2019s gone out.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I turn on the screen and I see Brynn\u2019s hospital bed, empty, no pillows, no blankets, nothing. All those pictures by her bed, gone.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I give the tablet a shake and then I drop it on the floor. I pick it up. I bring it up against my knee, the bad one, and I slam the thing so hard, the whole screen shatters, glass everywhere. I sit there on my bed, and I\u2019ve got pain in places I forgot I could feel pain, and I cry like a fucking baby till the sun comes back up.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t stand it, being there without Brynn. I couldn\u2019t stand it there.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fuck it, man. I\u2019ll just say this: keep one or two good people around. You hear me, Henry? You don\u2019t have at least one good person in your life, you feel old no matter how old you are.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Now wait with me while I close up, will you?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

JASON R. CHUN<\/strong><\/a><\/h6>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Goodnight, man. Go home, or go find yourself another dive, lots of places still open. I\u2019m closing up. That\u2019s life, Henry, and it\u2019s short. Even shorter for your generation. But that\u2019s how it\u2019s always been for you, so maybe you don\u2019t notice.\u00a0 285, Henry. I\u2019m 285 years old.\u00a0\u00a0 But don\u2019t get me started on that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2318,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[83],"tags":[20],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6Jypy-drinkers","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19355"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2318"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19355"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19355\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19520,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19355\/revisions\/19520"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19355"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19355"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19355"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}