Speak Through the Wind by Allison Pittman

Author:Allison Pittman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781590526255
Publisher: Multnomah Books
Published: 2007-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

tymie lined the shot glasses along the bar—twenty in all, each full of dark amber whiskey Side by side in the center of the row of glasses stood two frothing mugs of cold beer. A hush fell over the crowd gathered at Mott Street Tavern as Stymie held his hand high above the bar, sending officiating glances to the two figures poised over the first shot glass at each end of the row. At one end, a fellow named Burly Joe, fresh from the docks, still reeking of whatever vile cargo he’d hauled onto shore. At the other, Kassandra, her head just foggy enough to muffle the sound of Stymie’s hand slamming down on the bar and the explosion of voices that accompanied it.

She reached for the first glass and tossed the drink back, barely feeling the bitter burning of the whiskey slide down her throat. She slammed the empty glass down on the bar with one hand and picked up the next shot with the other—a nifty trick she’d mastered months ago that shaved a second or two off her time. The floorboards buckled a little bit with the sixth shot, and Kassandra grabbed the edge of the bar to steady herself, holding on long enough for Burly Joe to turn and share a laugh with his buddies. She snuck down nine and ten while his back was still turned. Her head was full and ringing, barely registering the last shot, by the time she reached for the beer. After the harshness of the whiskey, it tasted cool and smooth. She tilted her head back and took long, deep swallows, ignoring the spill down her chin. She slammed the mug down in triumph before bringing her arm up to wipe off her face with her sleeve.

The fellows who had come in with Burly Joe declared they’d been swindled as they handed over money lost betting on their most dedicated drinker.

“It is all right, boys,” Kassandra said, encasing the last word in a reverberating belch. “Next time you will know better.”

There was much muttering that there’d never be a next time to come into this swindling snake pit, but soon their anger melted under the flirtatious persuasions of Bridget and Fiona. Even Kassandra took Burly Joe’s unfinished beer out of his hand and offered to dance with him if he’d buy her just one more drink.

The small gathering of musicians struck up a lively jig and tables were shoved to the side to make room for the men and women who paired themselves off with little discrimination and even less decorum. The room was a spinning mass of music and bodies, and Kassandra found herself bounced and tossed and flung from one man to the next, pausing just long enough to rest against the bar and convince one man or another to buy her a drink, too, if he was to have one. She tipped Stymie a wink and a smile with each nickel handed across the counter before whirling off again on some other broadcloth arm.

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