Chapter 6

Rick felt like he was going to throw up.
His head was spinning, his ears were ringing, and he just had the irresistible urge to wretch.
Jamie came over to Rick’s seat at the counter and handed him a tall, frosty glass of golden brew. "Here you go, man, first round." He then eyed Rick a bit oddly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Rick began tugging at his ears, irritated. "Jamie, you KNOW how I feel about country music."
Jamie laughed before throwing back nearly a third of his own glass. "Hey, all I was said what they didn’t card- I never promised you’d liked the joint."
"Hmm," Rick mused on that before he began to sip his beer. "You know... I never used to understand what the appeal of beer was. It tastes terrible. It takes at least six cans to even get tipsy... but now...." Rick began to drink it down more readily. "A cheap, horrible tasting drug seems just right."
"Look man..." Jamie started, motioning with his hand. "You got dumped. And that sucks. It’s gonna suck, and you’re probably not going to get over Ariel for a long, long time."
Rick paused, looking over at Jamie sympathetically. "Mary."
Jamie nodded, leaning back in his seat. "I always talk big, Rick, but when your sister broke up with me- well, it sucker punched me."
Rick looked down at his beer, unsure of what to really say. "It still doesn’t seem real." he finally remarked.
"And it won’t." Jamie told him. For awhile, you’re just not going to know what to think of it, how you’re supposed to feel. But one morning, you’re just going to get up, and you’ll feel it. It won’t feel good... but you’ll know."
Before Rick could respond, a waitress came by and placed a shot of vodka. "I... didn’t order this." Rick told her.
"You didn’t, but that man did, honey," the waitress told him, pointing across the room at a tall, well built man wearing reflective shades. "He said he figured you might like it."
Rick gave Jamie a look, Jamie could only respond with a shrug. Rick picked up the glass, thought it over, then stood up. "You know, I may as well be nice and take it back to him."
"This ought ta’ be entertaining..." Jamie mused as Rick walked over to the man’s table.
"I appreciate the gesture..." Rick told the man, setting the drinking on the table. "But... no thanks."
The man took hold of the side of his glasses, dipping them down below his eyes. His whites, pupils, and retinas were all encompassed with a glowing, bluish purple haze. "The gesture is not quite what you believe it to be."
Rick stood still, shocked, then narrowed his eyes before sitting down.
Jamie looked over at the waitress, his eyes suddenly very large. "Uh, I’m sure he’s just... uh..."
"Hoo-boy."
Rick almost glared at the man seated before. "The Ultimate Man."
The man sat back a bit, setting his sun glasses back upon his face. "And you- are Matthew Maine’s son."
"You’re the son of the Ram."