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Post by pfieffer on Jun 9, 2010 0:40:40 GMT -5
It's completed I am going to be posting in parts though
p.s. their is a character in this with the same name as a CT guy Declan... they are not the same... people whose descriptions you migt recognize appear... but the story is not about CT in any way."Danny, the pub is dead. It's time for ya to sell it." I was being told by me oldest mate. "Russell, the pub won't be dead till I am. I ain't gonna sell it." The pub was, and is me life. Me da gave it to me when I was just a wee one of sixteen. I am now twenty-four, and I got plenty years of life left in me. "Tell me Danny boy, when was the last time ya got a customer?" "Yesterday." I defended. "A payin' customer Danny." He gave me a look of annoyance. "Yesterday." I replied my teeth clenched. "Tell me, who it was then." He crossed his arms. As much as I love Russell he can be a pain. Me best mate, me own twin brother has no faith in this place. He takes after ma. She didn't have faith in the place either. Da and I did, we spent nearly every day here when I was a wee lad. "These two lads came strollin' in. One had fairly long blond hair, and he carried a guitar. I think he is one of the local surfers. Trailing behind him was a tall kid no older that eighteen he had brown hair. The two had a few pints, and sang a few drinkin' songs, and paid." I told him. In all honesty they did not pay, but Russell did not need to know that. I was just happy to hear drinkin' songs again. It had been so long since those tunes hit my ears. "They were havin' great craic. And I was havin' craic watchin' them." "So, where is the money they paid ya with?" "Cash register." It wasn't, but Russell would believe me. "Danny, this place ain't gonna last much longer, ya need to find a real job." Russell told me. He had deep green eyes, they were almost black. They turned a bright emerald when he was passionate about somethin'. And when he was sad or givin' me one his talks about the pub they would turn black. I on the other hand, had bright blue eyes, colored like the ocean which I would sometimes surf. I could feel my bright blue eyes, becoming brighter, for I have been told when I am passionate or mad about something they seem to emit light. When I am sad they turn grey like the skies of Northern Ireland during a rain storm. Our eyes were the only thing about us that was not identical, we are both tall have jet black hair that was sort of long, we are both in shape, but our eyes are as different as out personalities. "This is a real job, Russ. Ya gotta have faith. Da wanted us to keep this place alive and well." "Danny, this place has not been alive in years. Give up." "Russ, I ain't gonna give up. This was Ma and Da's dream. Or did you forget?" His eyes turned from the black green to their deep forest shade. He always remembered. "Yeah, Danny I remember. Ya don't need to remind me." With that he dropped the conversation, and walked out of the room.
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Post by pfieffer on Jun 15, 2010 0:20:27 GMT -5
I went back to standing behind the bar. Me da built this bar with his own to hands. In fact the only thing in the place that wasn't built by him was the structure of the building. Ma and Da always dreamed of havin' a pub. But when it started to go down hill ma started to back out. But da was determined to keep it goin', and so am I.
Lookin' around now, I see nothing about the pub has changed much. The mismatched chairs, stools, and tables, the ancient cash register, that took a special hand to get it open, the hand made bar, the signs and pictures all reminded me of me da, and his dream. But I knew something needed to be done. I put the closed sign on the pub, I don't think I really needed to but I did. Walkin' to the town's small hardware store, a purchased a few strings of lights. I strolled back to the pub takin' me sweet old time, when something caught me attention. A sign, those can never be good. Usually a sign in the small city of Portstewart means things are going to be built, and sometimes those things that are not wanted. Not that I am saying that it is a bad thing, but I like our small town. I like the community. Although their might be pubs more popular than The Strand, I still love my pub. The Strand as it is called was named for it is almost right off the beach, which is why surfers, who don't pay, frequent it. I don't mind that they don't pay. But Russell is right if I don't start getting some money the pub will be gone.
I read the sign, it was for new apartments. I rolled my eyes, and made my way back to The Strand. I hung a two of the strings of lights outside, and strung one across the bar on the inside. It gives it more of a friendly appearance. As I was looking at the outside, I noticed it could use of coat of paint, the top half of the building was green and you could see large areas where the wind and rain had peeled the paint off. The bottom was a light blue color also with the pain chipping off. The window frames which were once a bright yellow had faded to white. My favorite part of the pub was the door. It was red, even though the pain was chipping off, the bright red color could still be seen from miles away. But a new coat of paint would have to wait for another day.
I walked through the main rectangular area of the pub, passed a few of the rooms, filled with old comfortable couches and older televisions, these rooms used to be filled when footy, rugby, or when any sport was on. Besides just bein' a pub it also allowed for people to spend the night. There were small bedrooms upstairs. Usually a surfer will crash for a night or two, I never charge 'em. I walked up a flight of stairs and got ready for bed. I lived above the pub in one of the two larger rooms; Russ had the other large room. I woke up the next mornin' with Russell vigorously shakin' me.
"Wha' ya want?" I said my eyes still closed.
"It's the pub." His green eyes were almost florescent with worry.
I heard the word pub, and bolted upright. "I don't like bein' wound up. What happened with the pub?"
"Ya better come see for yourself."
I threw the covers off. Still in me jammies, which really was an old pair of sweat pants, we rushed downstairs. I followed the quick pace of Russell obviously this had come as a surprise to him as well because he was still in the white t-shirt and shorts he always wore to bed. He stopped just short of the bottom of the stairs. I pushed past him. When I saw the main room, I could not believe me eyes.
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Post by laurenne on Jun 15, 2010 1:36:15 GMT -5
What couldn't he believe? That is the worst cliffhanger in the world. Please update soon.
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Post by pfieffer on Jun 18, 2010 23:25:27 GMT -5
I saw the window's broken, tables overturned, pictures and signs from the walls were scattered everywhere. "Who would have done this?"
"I don't know." Russ said, walkin' up behind me puttin' a hand on me shoulder. "But it ain't right."
I bent down, and picked up me favorite picture. It was the only one in a frame, but the frame was broken. The picture was of Russ and me when we were young. It was taken after a football game. Both of us were wearing our green and white uniforms. Da had taken the picture and gave it to ma for her birthday one year. It was framed because; it was the last thing da gave ma. She died when Russ and me were only nine, and well I guess this picture reminded us of her, even if she was not in it.
I looked at him, "Maybe your right Russ, maybe it is time I gave up on the place. I mean someone obviously does not like it."
"Now, don't go loosing your optimism Danny. I am supposed to be the one telling ya to sell the place. But I think now more than ever ya need to keep the place. What I am sayin' is, prove people wrong. Prove to whoever did this, that we ain't afraid."
"So, if I try to save the place, and build it back up, you would help."
Russ nodded; it had been along time since he was willin' to fight for the pub. Together the two of us started picking up the pictures and signs, we put the tables and chairs back in place. We then went back to our rooms and changed into jeans, I put on a plaid shirt, and Russ put on one of his old Rosy Surf t-shirts. We came back downstairs and continued to fix up the place. Russ started to sweep up the glass, as I went to go measure the windows. We were gonna need those.
Finished with the measurin', I went back to the town's small hardware shop. "Ello Declan." I yelled as I entered the shop.
"Danny, what ya doin' here again?" He asked.
"I need some windows."
Declan raised and eyebrow, "Windows, what on earth for?" "Someone smashed all the windows on the bottom floor of the pub last night. I don't know how they did it; neither me nor Russ heard any noise."
"Well ya know how it is." He gave me a reassuring look as I handed him the paper with the measurements. He was right; I have a good guess as to who might have done it. It ain't that hard to guess, livin' up north, bomb threats, and windows bein' smashed are a pretty normal thing, although I had never been personally effected. But what gets me is these threats had died down for a while. But that is all part of life in Northern Ireland I guess.
Declan took me to the back of the store. He had windows in stock, which was usual Declan always had odd things in stock. People went to him when they needed something they knew the other stores would either not have, or would have to order. Declan loaded the windows in his white truck, and set his tool box in the back. "Hop in. I am gonna help ya with the windows. It is the least I could do. I mean, I have come to The Strand every Friday night since I was a wee lad."
I got in the truck, and laughed. It was true; he had been comin' every Friday night. Besides Russ, he was me best mate. Declan is very much like meself, he owns his da's old hardware store, although it actually makes money. Declan parked his massive truck in the front. He saw the outside and just stared, "Ya know, it could really use a coat of paint as well."
I laughed, "I know Deco. But that project is gonna have to wait another day."
Russ opened the red door of the pub, and came out, "Yo Deco." He called.
"Hey Russ, how's the mot?"
"We had a row. But, she will get over it."
I jumped in at that, "What was the row about?"
"She claims I'm waistin' me life with this old pub. I told her off, she was not too happy."
It occurred to me that Russ really did care about the pub, I mean he was defending it in front of his girlfriend. "So Deco, you ready to get these window's in."
"Yep, you and Russ gonna help me?" It wasn't really a question.
"Of course." Russ replied.
We got the windows loaded in and fixed before noon. "Ya know what, if you lot make me lunch, I will give ya the windows free of charge."
Russ and I looked at each other, we liked this idea. Walking inside the pub, I slapped a table top "Sit right here Deco." Deco sat in the worn wood chair with a leather seat.
"What can we getcha?" Russ asked.
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Post by orinocoflow on Jun 18, 2010 23:44:57 GMT -5
great update. please have more to come!
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Post by laurenne on Jun 19, 2010 13:48:14 GMT -5
I loved the update. Can't wait for more.
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Post by Myna Chan on Jun 22, 2010 23:43:41 GMT -5
I Love it! Keep it up!
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Post by swimgurl96 on Jun 26, 2010 14:39:06 GMT -5
as always Pfieffer your stories are great!
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Post by celticbear on Jul 21, 2010 0:00:52 GMT -5
Pfieffer I love the story I figured out who was who real quick. The blonde surfrer with his mate is Keith and Damian. Danny is Paul, Russ is Ryan. So something tells me a George type and a Neil type are yet to come. Update soon!
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Post by pfieffer on Jul 22, 2010 16:24:27 GMT -5
celticbear- you got damo and keith right they make a small appearence, but like i said at the beginning NONE of the characters are based off of any of the CT guys any way shape or form. ----
"Could ya cook up your famous champ?"
"Of course." I replied. Russ and I headed for the kitchen I started on the champ, while Russ, got a few sliced of soda bread, and put the on a plate. I could hear the tap, he was makin' a Guinness. Russ did not come back for a while; he was most likely chattin' with Deco.
The champ was coming along nicely. Mine was special, always requested, even by the guys who had never had it. But that is not what made it special, I added cheese to it. It was just one extra ingredient that usually had people askin' for second. I finished the champ, and with it pipin' hot I brought it to the table. I had made enough for Russ and me to eat as well. I set the food down, and sat down meself. We talked a bit then Deco had to leave, as he headed out, "If ya give me a free dinner of Irish stew, I will donate some paint for the outside."
Russ and I looked at each other, "Ya got your self a deal Deco." I told him.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful as we placed the pictures and signs back on the walls. Well it was uneventful till a big black mass ran into the bar. The mass was me chocolate lab named Lucky. Lucky just sat their looking at me with big blue eyes. "Stupid dog." I laughed pettin' his head as his tail wagged and tongue flopped out of his mouth.
"Ya know if that dog ain't careful he is gonna run right through that bar one day."
"Russ," I looked at him as if I was gonna tell him off, "Shut your gob." I laughed.
He just rolled his eyes, as he went back to the kitchen to prepare the Irish stew, he would cook tonight since I cooked lunch. Plus his specialty was Irish stew.
"Come on Lucky." I called walkin' out of the pub. I grabbed a tennis ball, that I always kept by the door, and Lucky and me headed for the beach.
I saw a few of the surfers, each one of them had popped in the strand every now and then. I took the bright green ball in my hand and threw it; Lucky went scrambling to get it. An idea started brewin' in me head. At first I thought that it was crazy, but it seemed possible.
What was today Wednesday, if we paint tomorrow, this would work. The surfers were sitting around singing songs. Two of them were the customers I had yesterday. Walking up to them, the blonde guy playin' the guitar stopped and looked at me. "Take a seat." I heard one of them say.
Lucky came runnin' up. "Nice dog." A deep voiced brunette commented. I smiled. I took the tennis ball and threw it again.
"So what brings ya to this lovely beach?" The red head sittin' next to me asked.
A red head on the other side of me said something before I could answer, "You’re the owner of that pub, The Strand. That place is great."
I nodded, and continued to answer the question that had been asked, "Playin' we me dog Lucky. I am also holdin' this thing Friday, the pub is diein' and I need money and customers to keep it alive."
"Now why would be me favorite little pub in all Ireland be diein'?" A very tall lanky blond asked.
"He just answered Ry." An even taller and lankier brunette answered. The group laughed, as did I. These two must be the jokesters, the ones always windin' people up, and slaggin' each other.
"We will be their." The guitarist said. "And if ya need music," he held up a guitar with a little more than a dozen bumper stickers on it, "I would love to play." He gave me a smile.
"Thanks mate. This means the world to me."
The surfers leaned in, "Well you gonna tell us the story behind the pub or what?" A man with the hair of a raven asked.
"Well, let's see where to begin. Me ma and da started the pub from the ground up, nothin' in there was their when they bought the place. All that was there was the frame of the building and a few walls. Me da built the second story when I was seven or eight. The first thing he built though was a bar." I laughed, "Ma would scold him for cussin' when ever he hit his hand with the hammer. Paintin' the pub happened when I was about nine, me mum fell of the ladder, she was paintin' the window frames yellow, her favorite color; anyways she broke her neck, and died. It was really sad. Da was never really the same after that. I turned sixteen and da gave me the pub, he stayed around to help. When I turned eight-teen da got in a row with some unfriendly men, and it was hard to see he dead body on the medical examiners table." My eyes were going grey I could feel it, the tears were building up, why did this tale have to be so hard to tell. "Well me and Russ, me twin, took on full responsibility of the pub. He never liked it as much as me, even though he hates to admit it, he could never see it go." "Great story mate." One of the red heads said slapping me on the back. I smiled. "We will be their on Friday." The group nodded in agreement.
Everyone was startled when Lucky barked. He placed the ball in my lap, and the group laughed. I threw the ball, and stayed for a while. When my stomach rumbled, I knew it was time for dinner. "Great talkin' with ya." I got up, and headed back to the pub, Lucky followed. Walking in through the red door, I saw Deco waitin' for the stew. Lucky went into one of the rooms filled with couches and lay down, for she considered those rooms her own personal dog house.
I sat down next to Deco, "Ya think ya could get us that paint by tomorrow. I am gonna try to get some money for the pub Friday and I think it would be nice for the pub to have a new coat of paint."
"Sounds good to me. I will even help ya paint."
"Thanks Deco."
"Any time mate, any time. I will also spread the news about your little fund raiser."
"Just don't call it a fund raiser, think of somethin' else."
Deco nodded, and then his eyes grew big as Russ came out carrying bowls of his famous Irish stew.
We sat in silence as we usually did when we ate Russ' stew, it seemed wrong if we talked. The three of us grabbed seconds, and finished them. We then talked. Russ and I are particularly gifted with the gift of the gab, and Deco is no exception. We laughed, had pints, and had some great craic till the wee hours of the morning. Deco went home to his apartment above his hardware store. Russ, and I walked up the stairs, got ready for bed, and crashed.
I was knackered. It had been a busy day, replacing the windows, cooking, actually getting' off me lazy butt and playin' with lucky. I fell asleep totally shattered from the hard day.
I woke up, and if felt like I had only gotten ten minutes of sleep. I trudged down the stairs, one of the red heads from last night was eatin' and Irish breakfast Russ had obviously cooked up. He smiled at me, and went back to his food. I went into the kitchen took some bread, and toasted it. I stuck it in my mouth and headed back up the stairs to shower and change.
When I was finally ready for the day, wearing a red t-shirt, and an old pair of jeans I headed to the main area of the pub. Russ and Deco were outside arguing.
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Post by orinocoflow on Jul 23, 2010 20:26:01 GMT -5
black fur and blue eyes? that dog had better not be ryan's familiar! lol great update
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Post by pfieffer on Jul 25, 2010 1:01:55 GMT -5
I opened the door of the pub, "I thought ya were just gonna paint new colors on the place."
"No Deco, we are paintin' it one color."
I decided to tell them what we really were gonna do. "Both of ya are wrong; we are going over the old colors with the same colors. It looks fine like that, and that is how da and ma painted it so that is how we are keepin' it."
Russ and Deco nodded, the both knew what I said was final. I mean I was the owner of the pub. Deco pulled the cans from the bed of his truck, and I pulled out the ladders he brought. Ladders always made me nervous. "Hey I will paint the top of the buildin'." Deco offered.
He knew why me and Russ didn't want to. "Thanks." I replied. He offered me a screwdriver.
Taking it, I opened four of the cans of paint. Russ, grabbed the blue and a paint brush, and began slapping the paint on the building. Deco took a paint trough from the inside of his truck, he set up a ladder; he poured green paint into the trough and climbed up. I took the red can of paint, and started to paint the red door of the building.
We took a break around noon, I cooked this time. We then went back to work. By the end of the day the pub had a new coat of paint, it looked bright and cheerful. Deco went to his truck and pulled out a few strings of lights, "I thought they would give this place some style." We laughed and hung the lights.
Lucky yelped, "What did your dumb dog do this time?" Russ asked.
We found Lucky with one of the paint cans on his head. "How did your dog do that?" Deco asked.
I laughed, "For some reason, I don't think I want to know." I took the paint can of Lucky's head; he was going to need a bath, despite how much I loved him I hated bathing Lucky. We went inside, and sat at one of the tables, I cooked dinner. Lucky curled up by the bar, waiting for his bath, ironic, he loved baths and I hated it, I think it is Lucky's way of making fun of me.
I brought the food out, and ate quickly no time for talking tonight, Lucky need a bath and kept reminding me, by pushing his head up against my leg. I finished, "Alright Lucky, its bath time."
Bathing Lucky was no easy task. He followed me up the stairs and into the bath room. I turned the tap, and the water started to run. Lucky would not get into the tub. I honestly don't think he could. I had to lift a thirty kilogram dog into a bath tub, I am strong, but man Lucky is just fat. I put shampoo on his head and rinsed him off. At the same time as I was turning the water off, I grabbed a towel.
When I finished Lucky was fuzzier than normal. He stepped out of the bathtub, and pranced down the stairs. He will get of the bath tub but not in it, he is a strange dog.
Knackered again, I changed and hit the scratcher. I woke up butterflies in me stomach. Today was the day, the pub was gonna have life again. I hope.
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Post by pfieffer on Jul 25, 2010 18:42:16 GMT -5
Last post... mods... you can move the story now I got ready. Went downstairs and got breakfast. The pub was full with more people than the surfers I had invited. "Hey guys." I greeted. Today was going well. I was busy cookin' and tendin' the bar with Russ all day. Around noon the blond guy with the guitar came in. He started strummin' and singin'. He was really nice. As it got later in the day, Russ started to build up a fire, in the front on the beach. I grabbed chocolate and marshmallows and some of the soda bread and headed out. The sun was setting on the ocean. And marshmallows were being roasted. The pub was alive again, and for a few minutes as I looked out into the sunset I could see ma and da smiling, as we continued the pub. I was helpin' keep them alive; it is evident now that the pub is full of life again. THE END
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Post by orinocoflow on Jul 27, 2010 19:53:41 GMT -5
that's it?
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