Page 21 of Theo of Golden

“Some people call me a bartender, but I’m really a therapist, like Dr. Phil or something. You’d be amazed at some of the stories I hear. I just mix up drinks to make the medicine go down. You probably wonder how I mix a drink with only one arm, don’t you?”

The question had crossed Theo’s mind.

“Well, you’ll just have to come down sometime, and I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll mix you one of my specials.”

Junior pointed to the fountain. “Mr. Theo, you might already know this, but this fountain is called the Fedder. You want to know how it got its name?”

“Yes, thank you, please tell me.”

“OK. Well, a long time ago, like in the 1880s, they had a big dedication ceremony when the fountain was built.”

Theo’s eyes studied the impressive structure in front of them. It reminded him of the Bethesda Fountain in New York’s Central Park. That one, too, featured an angel with open wings.

“A preacher was saying a prayer, and there was a little kid on the platform — I think it was the mayor’s grandson. While the prayer was going on, a pigeon flew off the statue, and a feather fell onto the preacher’s robe. So the little kid hollered, ‘Papa, look a peeth a fedder fell off the angel.’ He said ‘peeth a fedder,’ but he meant ‘piece of feather.’ That ended up in the newspaper, and everybody started calling the fountain the ‘Peeth a Fedder,’ but now it’s just called ‘the Fedder.’ Sometimes for fun at work, I’ll bet a free beer to anyone who can say ‘piece of feather’ five times real fast without messing up. It’s hard enough sober, but a few beers make it near ‘bout impossible.”

Junior nodded toward the fountain and chuckled. “I’ve had to pull some of my customers out of that water before.”

It was approaching eight o’clock when Theo finally uncovered the portrait and handed it to Junior.

“Mr. Junior, when I saw this face, I had a feeling this was a special man, a wise and good man. Now I know. And a good storyteller as well. I’m very glad I get to be in the world with you.”

Junior took the portrait in his hand.

“Thank you. So, you’re just going to give this to me?” He spoke as one who expected to be asked for something in return.

Theo bowed his head and put a hand over his heart. “It is my honor.

Thank you for letting me do this.”

Junior studied the drawing closely. “That guy is pretty amazing, isn’t he? The artist.”

“He is indeed. Do you know Mr. Glissen?”

Junior shook his head. “Naw, he’s not the Bowleg sort, I don’t think.”

They talked until it was time for Junior to report to duty.

“Well, Mr. Theo, I better head to work. Thank you again for the nice picture. I think I’ll give it to my mama. Come down some night, and I’ll mix you one of my specials. On the house. And when you’re by yourself, try it sometime. Piece of feather. Real fast, five times.”

Bun Everson, the third beneficiary of Theo’s inspired idea, arrived with a friend, Sara. They were both students at the University of Golden. Bun (short for “Abundance,” her grandmother’s name) was enrolled in the graphic design program. Sara was majoring in English with an emphasis in creative writing. (It was she who had written the article about Asher in the Gold Standard.)

“We want to start a magazine together when we graduate,” Bun said.

Theo was a flurry of questions. The two girls were a flurry of half-formed answers and fully formed dreams.

He handed the wrapped package to Bun. She opened it and, with Sara’s head almost touching hers, stared at it without comment. They had previously seen the portrait on the Chalice wall and had both been mystified when, one day, it was no longer on display.

Sara said, “I’ve been saving money to buy it for Bun’s parents, but, you know, I’m just a poor college kid. Bun and I both love Mr. Glissen’s work. We had a nice conversation with him when he took our pictures.”

“When he took my picture, he took Sara’s too,” Bun said. “I hope he draws her.”

Theo laughed. “In other words, we might meet here again someday?”

In fact, they did, just a few months later.

Much later, the magazine launched. One of the first articles was about a day when two college students met an old man named Theo.

Bestowal four went to Frankie Knowles. The splayed eyes and crooked mouth did not diminish the brightness of the twelve-year-old’s smile.