Chương 93: Bonus story : More than just colleagues : Part 2 : The Drink

Lucas had chosen a small bar less than ten minutes from the depot. The place did not look like much from the outside, with tables squeezed against the window and a crooked neon sign, but it already seemed fairly crowded despite the relatively early hour. Several groups were chatting over drinks while a waiter moved between the tables carrying a loaded tray. — I'm warning you, Lucas said as he pushed open the door, this establishment has three essential qualities. Patrick raised an eyebrow.

— I have a feeling I'm going to regret asking. — First, the drinks don't cost a fortune. Second, they serve fries until late. Third, nobody looks at us weird when we show up still covered in dust. Karim looked down at his trousers. — It's mostly the third one you care about. — Exactly. They found a table at the back of the room. Lucas slid onto the bench, Patrick took the chair opposite him, and Karim sat beside him. Aldric took the last available seat before placing his phone on the table in front of him.

At the depot, Patrick always maintained a certain degree of restraint. Even when he joked around, he kept an eye on the schedule, the timing, or the equipment. Here, he seemed to have left some of that responsibility behind. His shoulders were more relaxed, his tone lighter, and he smiled more easily. — All right, Aldric, Lucas announced as soon as they were seated, first important rule. — I'm listening. — After work, Patrick isn't Patrick anymore. Patrick turned his head toward him. — Oh, really? — No.

He becomes Patoche. — You've never called me that. — Because I value my life. Karim gave a small laugh. — So this rule appears to be fictitious. — See? Even he understands faster than you do, Patrick replied. Lucas placed a hand over his heart. — That's a lot of violence for someone who just survived a cursed wardrobe. A waiter arrived with the menus. Patrick ordered a beer, Karim chose the same, while Lucas hesitated between several options before ordering the same drink as the other two. — What are you having?

Lucas asked. — I don't know yet. — A beer? — I almost never drink it. — Oh. Aldric eventually chose a lemonade. — A lemonade... Lucas said. — Yes. — After carrying a hundred-and-fifty-kilo wardrobe. — I fail to see the connection. — Neither do I, Karim admitted. Lucas sighed. — I work with people who refuse to understand my reasoning. The waiter left with their order. Aldric looked at his coworkers again. He had already spent many hours with them, but the atmosphere felt different.

At work, their conversations were always interrupted by some task. They had to carry a piece of furniture, get back to the truck, protect an object, or answer a client. Here, no one seemed to expect anything from them. Lucas was therefore free to talk without interruption. — You know what I just realized? Lucas said. Patrick sighed. — Unfortunately, you're going to tell us. — We've never told Aldric the story about the cat. Karim looked up at Patrick. — The one from the sixteenth arrondissement?

— The one from the sixteenth, Lucas confirmed. Patrick smiled. — I thought we'd agreed never to talk about that again. — Why? — Because you always make things up. — I tell an improved version of the facts. — What happened with this cat? Aldric asked. Lucas leaned toward him. — All right. Imagine an apartment on the sixth floor. Patrick interrupted him. — Fifth. — Here we go. — It was the fifth floor. Lucas raised a hand. — Fine. Fifth floor. No elevator. Karim cut in. — There was an elevator. Lucas looked at him.

— Do you want to tell the story instead of me? — No. — Then let the artist work. Patrick burst out laughing. The drinks arrived. Lucas took a sip before continuing. — So, fifth floor, apparently with an elevator, but that detail isn't important. We arrive at this very nice lady's place. She tells us she's packed all the boxes and there's nothing left to do. — Bad sign, Aldric observed. Lucas pointed a finger at him. — See? He's learning fast.

— When someone claims that no difficulties are to be expected, it often means they simply haven't identified the difficulty. Patrick nodded. — That's actually pretty true in our line of work. Lucas continued. — We start emptying the apartment. Everything's going fine. Then Karim hears a noise coming from the bedroom. Karim took a sip of his beer. — I heard meowing. — Exactly. We ask the client if she has a cat. — She says no, Patrick added. — Yeah. She looks us straight in the eyes and says, "No, no cat."

Aldric frowned. — Why lie about that? — Wait. Lucas leaned even closer. — Ten minutes later, I open a box. Patrick was already starting to laugh. — The cat's inside. — Inside the box? — Yes... — Why? — Because the client was trying to hide it. — Why? Lucas raised both hands. — Because she was afraid we'd refuse to do the move because of the animal. Patrick immediately corrected him. — Not exactly. Her new landlord didn't allow pets, and she didn't want anyone to see him. — Which is even worse.

— Did the cat have enough air? Aldric asked. Lucas blinked. — That's really your first question? — It was trapped inside a box. Karim nodded. — The box wasn't closed. It had climbed inside while she was packing. — So she hadn't deliberately locked the animal inside. — No. Lucas sighed. — Your version is much less interesting. — It has the advantage of being true, Patrick replied. Aldric took a sip of his lemonade. — I prefer that version as well. Lucas looked at the three men around the table.

— I'm surrounded by enemies. Karim smiled. — You'll survive. It was the first time Aldric had heard Karim join in on a joke. At the depot, he rarely spoke. When he did, it was to give practical information or point out a problem. Here, he seemed far more willing to respond to Lucas's provocations. Lucas immediately turned toward him. — You too now? — I've always been like this. — This is exactly the kind of betrayal no one talks about. Patrick set down his glass. — Wait until we tell him about the couch.

Lucas burst out laughing. — No. That one's even worse. — I assume a couch caused some difficulties, Aldric said. — "Caused some difficulties" is a very generous way of describing the situation. Lucas took a breath. — Imagine a gigantic couch. Patrick was already rolling his eyes. — It was normal. — It was enormous. — Two meters ten. — That's enormous. — Not for a couch. Lucas ignored the remark. — The client swears to us that it came up the stairs when he moved in. — That was true, Karim added.

— Yeah, but he'd forgotten one detail. The couch had been delivered disassembled. And once it was put together, it couldn't go back out the same way. Lucas slapped his palm against the table. — We tried for an hour. — Forty minutes, Patrick corrected. — An emotional hour. — That doesn't mean anything... Karim said. — Of course it does. Lucas turned toward Aldric. — We turn it. Tilt it. Lift it. Lower it. Patrick starts talking to the couch. — I never talked to it. — You told it, "You're getting out."

Patrick stared at Lucas. — I was talking to you. Silence fell around the table for a moment before Karim burst out laughing. — That completely changes my memory of that day. — How did you eventually solve the problem? — We took it apart, Patrick replied. — After wasting an hour. — Forty minutes. — Patrick, no one wants to hear the exact truth. — Apparently, someone does. Aldric noticed that Patrick was still smiling.

At work, Lucas's exaggerations were often followed by a sigh or a remark before they returned to their tasks. Here, Patrick almost seemed to be encouraging the conversation just to see how far Lucas would take it. A second round arrived. Aldric stuck with his lemonade while Lucas claimed that his choice constituted a direct attack on the spirit of the bar. The conversation drifted to another move. This time, it involved an elevator that was too small. — We'd measured the furniture, Patrick explained.

The client had measured the elevator. Lucas put on a dramatic expression. — Two perfectly accurate measurements. — And yet incompatible, Karim added. — Exactly. Aldric frowned slightly. — How? — The client had measured the inside width of the elevator. He'd forgotten to measure the width of the door, Patrick said. Aldric nodded. — An error in measuring the access point. — Exactly. — This problem could have been avoided. Lucas set down his glass. — Careful. Here comes the tactical report. Aldric ignored him.

— You simply needed to measure the entire route before moving the furniture. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. — That's what we do now, Patrick replied. — Thanks to that story, Karim added. Lucas adopted a solemn voice. — Great knowledge is sometimes born from great suffering. — You didn't carry anything that day, Patrick replied. — I suffered emotionally. This time, Aldric laughed openly. The sound almost seemed to surprise the other three. Lucas turned his head. — Wait.

Aldric stopped laughing. — What? — Nothing. Lucas looked at Patrick, then Karim. — I think we just accomplished something. — What? Aldric asked. — We made you laugh without Emma being here. Aldric frowned. — You've done that before. — Yeah, but rarely. Karim joined in. — He laughs more than he did at the beginning. Patrick nodded. — That's true. Aldric looked at his coworkers with mild confusion. It had never occurred to him that they were paying such close attention to his behavior.

— I didn't realize you were keeping track of that. Lucas raised his glass. — We keep track of a lot of things. The conversation resumed. They told several more stories. Some involved furniture that had been broken before they even arrived, while others were about clients who had forgotten to mention that their apartment was on the sixth floor with no elevator. Aldric listened. Then Lucas finally asked him the question. — What about you? — Me? — Yeah. We've been telling you about our disasters for an hour.

You must have some. — Moving disasters? — No. From your knight world... Until now, he rarely spoke about his former life at work. His coworkers knew that he came from a very different place, that he had been a knight, and that he had fought for years. Even if none of them believed him. Still, most of the stories he told were limited to a few remarks whenever a situation reminded him of something. — A funny story, Lucas clarified. Not a three-month siege with fifty thousand dead. — I wasn't planning to tell one.

— Exactly. It'll be more authentic. A memory came back to him. — Once, we lost an entire wagon of provisions. — There we go. That's a good start, Lucas said. — We were crossing a mountainous region. A supply convoy was supposed to reach our camp before nightfall. One of the drivers decided to take a shorter route. Karim shook his head. — Bad idea. — Yes. — Did he get lost? Patrick asked. — The path was wide enough for the wagon. The next turn was not. Lucas was already beginning to smile. — Keep going.

— He tried to maneuver. One of the wheels went off the path. — And the wagon fell? — Yes. — Into a ravine? — Yes. Lucas placed both hands on the table. — What was in it? — Mainly bread, cheese, dried meat, and several barrels. — Of what? — Beer. — You lost an entire wagon full of beer in a ravine? — Yes. — That's a tragedy. Patrick burst out laughing. — Losing the food was the more serious problem. — No. Lucas shook his head solemnly. — I reject that analysis. — We had three hundred men to feed. — All right. Maybe.

Karim asked: — Did you manage to recover anything? — Some of it. — The beer? Lucas asked. — Two barrels. Lucas let out a sigh of relief. — Thank you. Aldric continued. — One was intact. — And the other? Aldric looked at his glass. — The stopper came loose during the fall. Lucas placed a hand over his heart. — Why are you telling us this so calmly? — Because it happened a long time ago, Aldric replied. — Some wounds never heal. Karim turned toward Lucas. — You don't even drink that much beer.

— It's not about the quantity. It's the principle. Aldric smiled. — The driver also thought the main problem was the beer. — An intelligent man. — The commander responsible for the supplies did not share his opinion. — What happened to him? Patrick asked. — He had to personally explain why part of the supplies had disappeared. Lucas grimaced. — To your commander? — To me. — Wait. Aldric raised an eyebrow. — What? — You were the commander? — Yes.

— And this guy had to come and explain to you that he'd thrown your beer into a ravine? — The provisions. — The beer was part of the provisions. — Technically, yes. Patrick smiled. — And what did you say to him? — I asked him why he had left the planned route. — And? — He told me he thought he could save two hours. Karim smiled. — I'm guessing that didn't work. — We lost almost an entire day. Lucas burst out laughing. Aldric continued his story.

He told them how a dozen soldiers had been forced to climb down the ravine with ropes to recover whatever provisions were still usable, how one of them had brought a wheel of cheese back up only to discover that it had been crushed by a barrel, and how the driver had eventually asked whether he would be punished more severely for losing the food or the beer. — And what did you tell him? Patrick asked. — That if he asked the question again, I would assume he had failed to understand his mistake. Patrick nodded.

— Yeah. That sounds like you. — You were really in charge of all that? Lucas asked. — Yes. — How many people? — It depended on the campaign. — The most? — Several thousand. — And how old were you? Patrick asked. — During that campaign? Twenty-one. Lucas leaned back against the bench. — When I was twenty-one, I still regularly forgot to pay my Internet bill. Karim looked at his glass. — You still do. — That's not the point...

For the first time since they had started working together, Aldric felt that they no longer saw him only as the strange man capable of carrying furniture that was far too heavy or taking every instruction seriously. They seemed to be trying to imagine a life they knew nothing about. Patrick eventually spoke again. — That must feel strange. — What? — All of this. He gestured vaguely around the room. — Going from several thousand men to four guys moving couches. — It's different. Lucas smiled.

— Thank you for that in-depth analysis. Aldric continued nonetheless. — But I prefer knowing that the worst consequence of a mistake is usually a damaged piece of furniture. Patrick nodded. — I understand. Lucas was about to reply when Patrick's phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the screen. His smile disappeared. Patrick picked up the phone. — Excuse me, guys. He stood up and walked a few meters away before answering. — Hello? Lucas and Karim continued looking in his direction.

He was too far away for them to make out the words, but Aldric watched Patrick. His posture had changed. A few moments earlier, he had been relaxed, almost slouched in his chair. Now his back was straight and his expression closed off. He ran a hand over his forehead. Said something. Then remained silent for several seconds. Lucas stopped joking entirely. — That doesn't look good, he murmured. Aldric knew that expression. He had seen it before on soldiers receiving bad news in the middle of a campaign.

It wasn't exactly fear. Rather, it was that brief period during which the mind tried to understand what had just changed. Patrick finally ended the call and returned. — Sorry. — Everything okay? Lucas asked. — Yeah. Patrick picked up his glass and took a sip. — Well... Lucas said. The conversation resumed, but the atmosphere had changed. Lucas told another story, though he exaggerated less. Karim talked about a client scheduled for the following week.

Patrick smiled occasionally, but his attention seemed to keep returning to the phone lying near his hand. Aldric did not intervene. In his world, he had learned that a man would generally share the information he wished to share on his own. Asking questions could push someone to speak before they were ready. About twenty minutes later, Patrick checked the time. — I'm going to head home. Karim nodded. — Me too. Lucas finished his drink. — Well. I suppose we're working tomorrow.

— That's generally how Thursdays work, Patrick replied. Lucas smiled. — There. He's joking again. He's feeling better. Patrick gave him a light pat on the shoulder as he stood up. — Go home. He paid the bill, and they left the bar. The cool evening air had replaced the heat of the day. The streets were still lively, and several terraces were full. Lucas had to take a different metro line. Karim lived in the opposite direction. Patrick was heading to his car. They parted ways at the first intersection.

— See you tomorrow, Lucas called. — See you tomorrow, Karim replied. Patrick raised a hand, and Aldric headed toward his station. The evening replayed in his mind. Lucas telling his stories. Karim joking. Patrick laughing far more than he did at the depot. The wagon lost in the mountains. The expressions on his coworkers' faces when they realized that he had once commanded thousands of men. Yet that was not what occupied his thoughts now. He could still see Patrick looking at his phone.

The change in his expression. The way he had left the table. Then that answer, given far too quickly: Everything's fine. Aldric walked down the steps into the metro station. He had heard that phrase many times in his former life. Wounded soldiers had said it. Exhausted officers as well. Sometimes even men who had just learned of the loss of someone close to them. Everything's fine. Those words rarely meant what they claimed. When the metro arrived, Aldric stepped into the carriage and sat down by the window.

The tunnel lights passed behind the glass as he thought one last time about the change in Patrick's demeanor. Tomorrow, he would ask him what had happened.