Medicine of Magic

His name was Gerry, the other two were Harry and Gustave.full name, no less, pronounced Goos-taf. What I thought at first was affectation was actually a good French name.and the guy was French or Québecois. He shook my hand perfectly straightforwardly, as did Harry and Gerry. Gerry no longer regarded me with those searching, hungry.had they really been lustful glances?

“What’ll you have, Mick?”

“Bourbon and branch?”

“Yeah. Under the counter. Don’t get many bourbon drinkers in here, Mick, he said apologetically.

“Hey! If bourbon isn’t de rigeur, I’ll drink what y’all are drinking.”

“Well! Robin, your friend’s from de sout’, ah do b’leeve, an he’s sho able to talk dat frenchie talk, ain’t he?”

“Lay off, Gus! How about an aperitif, Mick?”

“Okay. Harry, don’t tell me you have.hell, I can’t remember the name.the stuff with the worm in it? Like Pernod?”

“Oh, you mean absinthe? That’s from wormwood or something. Yeah, I have Pernod right here. I thought you meant tequila, some of that has a worm in the bottle. Pure bull, y’know.”

“Nah, it’s not bull, Harry. Some’s for real.”

“Whatever. You want real absinthe, then, Mick? You know what it does?”

“Maybe. I feel like I want something out of the usual, tonight. How bout you, Robin?”

“Old Fashioned, and use the bourbon, I saw the label, Harry. No garbage, just the Angostura, sugar and a spritz with some of that Jack D there, okay?”

The absinthe tasted lousy, but I swallowed a little bit and set down the tiny glass. My mouth must have showed what I didn’t really want the guys to see, how I disliked the stuff.

“Yeah, man. Takes some people that way. Here, have a taste of this, offered Gustave, who was drinking a tall, dark drink. That smelled like rum, and tasted wonderful.