Yonder Go, That Old Black Dog

[Joka]

I think this man might be useful to me – if my black dog returns. He seems quite away from me now – it is such a relief. All the colours come back into the picture - Winstone Churchill in a letter to his wife, after hearing a friend’s wife had received some help for depression from a German doctor.

Monster sat opposite his manager and trainer, Joka.  The two men staring over each other's shoulders at flatscreens positioned throughout a seedy bar on the outskirts of Oklahoma City.  The conversation was imminent but neither man was willing to initiate it.  Darren had the match in hand, and was well on his way to securing a second win in the Icemann Invitational.  Sports channels playing on the TV's near the bar were replaying the moment but Monster preferred to watch the broadcast of the MMA fight, while Joka was happily watching NBA highlights.  Both men, being friends for so long, would tap their bottles together every time they took a drink of their beers as they went drink-for-drink with each other.  The patrons of the bar were starting to shoot confused looks at the two as a pyramid of bottles were forming on the old, wooden table adjacent to them.  The waitress, a young woman with bright red hair, would ask them if she could take their empties when she would come take their order but they insisted she not, continuing to build the pyramid taller and taller.  The music was low, the conversation was lively, but the ring of their bottles were loud and obnoxious.  On the last trip over, the waitress was set upon with an order for two shots of whiskey, and the booze had finally arrived.  The two imposing bastards tapped the shot glasses to their own beers, tapped them against each others shot glasses, and tipped them back with no enthusiasm whatsoever.  Their faces, made of concrete and steel, are unfazed and unchanged by the burn of the liquid as they continue their proverbial silent treatment.  The jukebox clicked with the sound of one record going out and another taking its place.  This place wasn't a hipster hangout by any stretch, but the jukebox was vintage in that it played the vinyl of yesteryear.  Come Together by The Beatles begins to play as a bearded man and his date for the evening take to the tiny dance floor.  Joka reaches over the table and pulls the ashtray close as he lights up a cigarette, the smoke from it swirling around his face and dissipating behind him.


♫♫ Got to be a joker, he just do what he please... ♫♫


"I'll go shot-for-shot and drink-for-drink with you, but I will not go smoke-for-smoke with you."  Monster mumbles in his low baritone as Joka riffles through his pockets.  He reveals a metal case, pops the lid with one finger, and presents the big man with a cigar.

"Smoke up, Darren... you only live once"  Replies the clown with green hair as Monster obeys, accepts the gift, and rolls it around in his mouth as Joka lights it for him.  Darren looks up as he lets loose a cloud of smoke from his mouth and when he looks back down, Joka is holding his beer in the air.  Darren obliges and grabs his beverage, and they tap the bottles together hard.

"Dink it and sink it!"  Barks Joka, as they both point the bottom of their drinks to the sky and finish them in unison.  Joka sighs with exasperation.  Monster grabs both bottles and stumbles over to the pyramid of bottles to add the two to the collection.

"I don't get it... Byron.  I am the one who lost.  Why are you so sad right now?"  Darren begs as he sits back down at the table.  Joka rubs his chin for a couple of seconds before letting his arm fall hard back on the table.  He leans forward and stares at his friend as the couple dancing behind him kick up their legs and laugh, dancing to the music.


♬♬ He say, "I know you, you know me".  One thing I can tell you is you got to be free ♬♬


Byron's eyes grow wide as he hears the words to the song and the thought escapes his mind.  He smiles as he looks to his friend for confirmation.  Darren's lip curls as Joka begins smiling.  The two begin laughing; Joka with his boisterously loud guffaw and Monster with his grating giggle, and Joka looks over to the waitress and holds two fingers up.  He calls out for two whiskey shots and two more beers.  The waitress must have set aside the drinks, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before the tattooed men would call for more and she approaches them right away with their beverages.  "Best bartender in Oklahoma right here!"  He yells out as he throws his hands in the air.  The patrons at the bar affirm his statement with a chorus of "hell yeah" and "here, here" and the waitress covers her mouth as she smiles underneath.  Joka slaps a twenty dollar bill on the table and she scoops it up and puts it in the pocket of her apron.

"Thank ya kindly, sir."  she remarks, her thick southern accent becoming even more prominent as she witnesses the mood improve in her customers.  "Good to see some smiles on those faces.  For a second, I thought you two might be trouble."

"Trouble?!  US!"  Joka bellows as he jokingly grabs his chest.  He opens his mouth wide and plays up a shocked look as Monster continues to giggle at his antics.

"I heard them hogs ya'll rode up on.  I may have been born at night but I wasn't born last night, mister.  I know how bikers act."  She replies as the two men slap their bottles together and take a swig.  Joka swallows and points a finger in the air.  "But Imma perfect gentleman."  He says, slurring his speech and stifling a smile.

"It's not you I was worried about.  It's this big old boy sitting across from ya I was worried about.  If he gets too drunk, ain't no one big enough in this bar to stop him from stomping a mudhole in someones ass and walking it dry."  She remarks, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at Monster.  Darren is taken aback as he points to himself.  She shoots him a look of confirmation as she winks at him and Joka calls her attention back to him.

"HIM?!  Ah girl, he's a big teddy bear!"  Joka exclaims as his southern accent begins to become thicker in the company of another southerner.  Meanwhile, Monster crosses his huge arms together and leans back in his seat, his immense size making it look like a child's chair.  The bartender giggles as she nods.  "The biggest boys usually are." she replies, taking her towel out of her back pocket and flipping it over her shoulder.  "But ya know what his problem is?  He's too trusting.  Take, for instance, that last match you were in on Trauma.  You should'a never taken y'er eyes off'a that weirdos wife."

"You recognized us?"  Joka says, as the two men lean forward on the table.

"Did you really think you'd be able to walk into a bar in Oklahoma and not be recognized instantly?  It's not every day that two of Oklahoma's favorite sons walk into mah bar.  Now, you wanna take a small break or do you want me to keep 'em coming?"  She asks, the two still in shock as it's been awhile since neither have been back home and it's blatantly obvious that they had no clue what kind of reception would be waiting for them on their return.  Joka smiles and nods and she walks away.  "Well, Mah name is Makayla.  call me if you need me, darlin'."

*dans une voix française*
2 HOURS LATER

"Hey Byron, you never told me why you were sad..."

Joka holds a beer bottle above his head, letting every last drop of alcohol fall into his mouth.  He puts the bottle on the table and looks over at the table next to them.  The table is no longer occupied by the pyramid made of beer bottles as the couple sitting there shoot him a passing glance.  He looks around the room and the place is considerably more crowded than it was before.  He looks back at his friend and his arms slump to the table.

"Ahhhh... you know.  That old black dog has ahold of me again."  Joka says, his words stumbling through the air and falling onto Monster like an apparition.  Monsters brow furrows in confusion and he slaps his friends arm.

"Black dog?  Are you drunk?"  He mumbles, letting out a resounding burp that forces muffled laughter from a table of women next to them.  Joka spots this as the room beings to spin for him.  He stands straight up and begins stumbling toward the door with Monster in tow.  Byron slams the door of the bar open and stumbles over to the end of the sidewalk.  He slowly reaches down until he has a firm grip of the concrete and then his ass soon follows.  Monsters does the same as the two men breathe in the nighttime air.  It's not quite summer yet but the Oklahoma air is still muggy and humid.

"Yonder go, that old black dog.  He was there and then he was not.  It... it's a metaphor for depression.  People only ever see the multiple personality disorder, they only ever see the crazy... but they never see the depression.  I have voices that tell me a lot of cruel and twisted things but the loudest voice... is the one that tells me I'm not good enough.  I was depressed... for you.  I was depressed because that dickfart, Seromine, had cheated his ass off to beat you.  Now he has a chance of winning the Icemann Invitational and sullying the name of my good friend, Luis, with his dirty shit!"  Joka explains, slurring his speech throughout.  Monster puts a hand on his shoulder as Joka feels it and lightheartedly slaps Monster on the back.  Darren winces at this and Joka instantly becomes apologetic for slapping the scratch marks that Destiny had left embedded into Monsters flesh.

"It's okay, Byron.  The scratch marks hurt but they were nothing compared to the hat pin.  You saw me in the hospital.  It took three days for me to regain movement in my legs."  He confides in Byron, as Byron nods, looking out into the open prairie across the street from the bar.

"At least I don't have to worry about this Arsen Goodstone fella pulling any underhanded tactics like that..."  He says, Joka pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.  Joka blows the smoke out quick and raises his cigarette in the air as a thought enters his mind.

"But ain't he s'posed to be some kind'a ASS-assin?  If any feller is gonna play dirty... I'd bet my 1969 Triumph Trident that it'd be him."  Joka exclaims, smiling as he waits for a response from Monster.  "Alright, it's a bet!"  Monster replies, extending his huge arm for a handshake to seal the deal.

"Neow wait a damn second, big fella.  I was only joking!"  Joka says, defending his prior statement as a look of shock comes over his face.  Monster begins laughing heartily and completely out of character.  Joka's eyes grow wide, seeing his friend laugh so boisterously, and he soon joins in.  The two grab each other by the shoulder and start singing the song that had been stuck in their heads all night.

"♪♫ He a roller-coaster, he got early warning!  He got muddy water, he want mojo filter!  He say 'one and one and one is three', got to be good looking 'cause he's so hard to see!  COME TOGETHER, right now... over me! ♪♫"

...

......

.........

"By the way, Joka... you said you had something important to tell me.  Ya know, about when you passed out in your apartment..."


It can wait...