Dirt and Dregs

"What the hell are you doing back here, man?"

Dirt and glass crunched as the speaker, a slim fellow dressed in a clean, gray three-piece, slowly approached a pile of garbage at the end of the alley. The well-dressed man clicked on a flashlight and swept it across the dismal scene, as a huge, dark dog followed quietly behind.

With a groan and a chorus of clinking bottles, the pile rolled over. It was revealed to be a man, buried in empty snack wrappers and assorted receptacles of booze. Stained tatters of a once-lovely formal suit clung to his quivering frame. Squinting against the illuminating beams, the man spoke with a grunting rasp.

"Hey, Charlie. Long time no see."

The slim man turned his light down, out of the grubby man's face, before responding.

"Hey, Sid. You're looking...tragic."

Charlie held out a hand to his friend, but out of fatigue or unwillingness, the prone Sid did not move to take it. Charlie retracted the hand, unfazed, and continued softly.

"Last I heard, you had it made, brother." He stepped delicately over a greasy puddle, canine in tow. "Ever since you moved, I didn't think we'd see you in this hole ever again." He gestured vaguely at the dreary landscape. "And I thought Percy was saying you were just about due another promotion - that right?"

Sid coughed - it might have been an attempt at a sour laugh.

"Yeah, man. Don't know where she hears it, but Percy knows her stuff..."

With a great heave, Sid slumped forward to lean his elbows on his knees. He met Charlie's unreadable gaze, and spoke with painful, concerted slowness.

"I was s'posed be manager of my team, man. Huge salary bump. Way less busywork. Great retirement plan. Better dental. The whole frick'n package, just..."

He waved erratically, as if swatting at a wasted fly.

"Who knows where the rumors started, but s'posedly someone said somethin' about my character, and how I handled the last deal, or some...whatever...and the conversations with the higher-ups turned from 'we're so excited t'see your career progress,' to 'we just think your strengths are better suited for other fields,' real, real fast."

He made to throw a bottle angrily at the wall, but it slipped from his weak fingers and fell to the ground with a sad, harmless clunk. Charlie's dog trotted over to sniff gently at the fallen glass. Sid looked at it for a moment, before crossing his arms and looking up at Charlie again.

"But enough about me, how's business at the bar?"

Charlie grimaced sympathetically, but played along with this diversion. "Good, man," he replied with forced cheerfulness, "Lots of new patrons lately. And the boss has even talked about opening a second location, somewhere uptown. Wants to call it 'Ellie's,' after some fling of his, I think."

Sid nodded, sniffled, and murmured, "Great, great, that's...that's real great." The words fell awkwardly from his mouth, and a heavy silence loomed over the grim scene. Before it could stretch too long, Sid gestured with a crusty bottle towards the hulking Rottweiler still snuffling by Charlie's feet.

"And how's Big C holdin' up?"

Charlie looked down at the dog by his side. The intersecting beams from Charlie's flashlight and a flickering streetlamp above threw a double shadow of the dog against the alley wall. As Big C looked imploringly up at his owner, two shadows of the dog's head mirrored him.

"Oh, you know the pup," Charlie chuckled quietly, scratching the dog's ears with his free hand, "same as ever. Bigger appetite, maybe."

Big C gratefully received the pets, before scooting over to tentatively take stock of Sid's tattered dress shoes. He confirmed Charlie's accusation with several licks of an empty bag of chips on the ground.

The silence lasted longer this time. Charlie looked like he wanted to say something, but once again Sid spoke first.

"But forget the job thing, man, I..."

He coughed intensely, then looked straight up to the heavens with watery, bloodshot eyes.

"...I was gonna marry her, Charlie."

Charlie's mouth fell slightly agape, but no noise came out. Sid continued mumbling.

"And then she just...she just..."

He did not finish his sentence. Charlie heaved a heavy sigh and bowed his head with closed eyes - perhaps offering a silent prayer. He forced himself to look over at Sid.

"I'd heard you were with a good girl, but...I don't know what to say, Sid. I'm so sorry."

Big C shuffled closer to Sid, setting his chin demurely on the grubby man's lap. Sid stroked the dog's ears gently, exhaled softly, and looked up at his old friend.

"How'd you find me here, Charlie?"

Charlie shuffled uncomfortably. He seemed suddenly unable to meet his friend's eyes.

"Listen, I would've checked in on you anyway, but...I wasn't working earlier, obviously, and - well - when I got in they told me you just stumbled out of the bar before anyone could stop you, and..."

He grimaced to himself, as though stung by his own next words.

"...they say your card declined. Might want to check in with your bank to see if everything's alright there, brother."

Silence again. And then Sid laughed - long, mirthless, and punctuated with sickly hacking.

"Of course it did. Of COURSE IT DID!" He shouted, his scratchy, manic words instantly overtaking the laughter. He successfully hurled a scotch bottle against the brick wall, which this time shattered gloriously. Big C yipped and hurried back behind Charlie, who barely flinched at the explosion of glass.

"Listen, Sid, don't worry about your tab. I already covered it-"

But the floodgates had been opened. Sid continued his hoarse monologue as if not hearing Charlie at all.

"How does this happen? How does this happen in ONE day? I had so much going for me, and it was 'cause I actually did the work." He spat out each word as if they tasted bitter. "I finally found a girl who was worth doing the work for - and I went to therapy, and I left the drink behind, and I did overtime and got the boss's approval and was climbing the stupid corporate ladder, and I was - I was - I was on top of the world, man!"

His voice broke at this point, and a single tear wove through the grime on his pained face. Charlie could only watch as Sid continued, tone and expression drenched in desperation.

"These last few months, when I felt sun on my face, I actually let myself feel it. And it was warm, and it was beautiful, and it was real; for the first time, I let myself believe it was real, because there was a chance it might actually last."

Sid slumped back down to the ground, rage spent, utterly defeated.

"But then there's one really bad day, and I'm back at the bottom of the bottle. And I'm here, back in this god-forsaken backwater, with nothing."

He put his head in his hands. Charlie had no words - he could not even move, immobilized by the intensity of suffering before him.

The silence deepened, broadened, into something more than a mere lack of noise. Even Big C's ceaseless sniffs went mute. A stillness took the scene, like the spread of ice that gradually deadens a bubbling winter brook. To Charlie, the moment crystallized, as terrible ones often do, presenting itself with inescapable clarity as the lowest point his friend had ever been. He knew he ought to speak, but could not break free from the paralyzing curse.

But somehow, Sid could. With a deep groan, he rose slowly to his feet. He looked at the starry sky for a brief second, ran a hand through his hair, then leveled a steady gaze at Charlie.

"Nothing to it. Tomorrow, it's time to start again."

Charlie's eyes widened slightly at this sudden reversal. There was something unquestionably impressive - even regal - about the proud, broken man before him. Covered in filth and ruined clothing, prospects destroyed by some combination of inexorable circumstance and personal failing, and lower than ever before, Sid's eyes yet blazed with a determination to come back - to climb back - from it all. Somehow, it felt clear that this was not a flimsy promise made in a moment of drunken arrogance; it was a vow as real and tangible as the dirt and dregs surrounding them. In that moment, the raw human spirit on display was astonishing to Charlie.

Sid heaved a long sigh and coughed softly, and the moment passed. He wiped his hand on his pant leg, then held it out.

"Thanks for finding me, Charon."

A ghost of a smile played across Charlie's face at being addressed by his proper name. He took his friend's hand, shook firmly, and returned the favor in kind.

"Don't be a stranger, Sisyphus."