Whiskey has a different effect on everybody. Some it makes happy, and others it makes sad. Still others just go right to sleep. I once met a mongoose in a dive bar outside Phoenix who started singing Puccini after his third drink. Which would have been ok, except I’ve never known a mongoose that could carry a tune, even when sober. It wasn’t pretty.
In Rebecca’s case, drink made her talkative.
It was fun for a while, watching Rebecca under the influence. I was surprised how little time it took her to get smashed, until I remembered that she never drinks. Some dames really can’t hold their liquor. Although one thing I hadn’t expected was that she’d start reciting poetry.
“He’s admired and loved, although misunderstood
By all of the creatures that live in the wood.
They know they are safe, for wherever he goes
The Smellephant follows his nose.”
This went on for quite a while — there are a lot of verses to that damn poem. By the time she got to that particular verse she was standing on the table with her shoes off. I gotta say I’d never heard the poem in an English accent. It didn’t sound half bad either, if you go for that sort of thing.
After that, it didn’t take long before Rebecca passed out on my office couch. I thought of waking her and sending her on her way, but then I figured maybe the poor kid needed the rest, after all she’d been through.
I got a blanket for her, made sure she was nice and tucked in, and turned down the lights. She’d be ok for a while. Quietly I put on my trench coat and fedora.
I slipped out the back way, through the alley, so I wouldn’t be tailed. I needed to check out a hunch, and it would be a lot better if nobody knew where I was going.