One morning cleaning up behind the bar there was a loaded sawed-off double-barrel shotgun propped up beside the cooler underneath the bar. I had to move it to sweep the debris and cigarette butts up. I picked up the gun and bam, the gun went off in a deafening sound, my ears were ringing while my hearing went mute, I was shaking, terrified, and wondering how did this gun go off. The gun blast blew a hole in Joe’s portable mug cooler and shards of mugs were everywhere. I was shell-shocked by the incident, the pounding of ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, I ran outside to get some fresh air and let the bluish cloud of smoke clear out, I checked myself to see if I was hurt but seemed okay only rattled from this careless act. I hurried up my cleaning, I didn't want Joe to see this because I feared he would fire me on the spot, and I couldn't blame him whatsoever.
I daydreamed the whole day at school, wracked with worry, what should I tell Joe? I never went by that night at Joe’s and went straight home, the next morning I headed to Joe’s frightened out of mind, but knew no one would be there, so, I cleaned up and noticed the huge hole in the mug cooler, now placed with a white bar towel in it. I traveled back to school and my head filled with guilt, I must tell Joe I thought. That night I found the courage to tell Joe, told him I picked the gun up to clean up the cigarette butts and it went off, Joe was so worried about me, he didn't care, he was so glad I was okay, and said it was his fault for leaving it there, and told me not to worry about anything. Joe was a great and understanding man, why I miss him.
Now, the last tale of Joe, I regret retelling, it was very hard to write because I loved both of these men, sadly, both are gone from this life way too soon, cancer got Joe and suicide overwhelmed Feather, two men who were better than this but life isn't always by the book.
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