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The bar was mostly empty, it was just after ten in the morning he figured. Minkowski was cleaning up in back, Hera couldn't possibly see him out here, could she? And he could play something simple with one hand. The plan was perfect. He fished the cigarette out of his pocket as his right hand slid across the keys, not bad he thought. He'd been practicing for months to pull this off. Next was the tricky part, he pulled out a matchbook, he missed a few notes but that was not unusual for him, after all he wasn't the best piano player in the world. Now all he had to do was light a match then light the cigarette in his mouth in one fluid motion. It was going to be perfect.
"Oh no you don't!"
He jumped and slammed both hands on the piano startling the few customers in the place.
"Come on Minkowski just one," Eiffel turned around on his stool and taking the, sadly, unlit cigarette from his mouth.
"No smoking in my saloon," Minkowski put her fist down firmly on her counter.
"You're the only bar in the whole country to ban it!" Eiffel whined.
"And it's the only bar in the country where you can breathe too," Minkowski frowned, "Mark my words this smoking stuff is going to kill you."
"It's perfectly fine, tobacco is a plant," Eiffel waved her off, "I'm not smoking rat poison."
She shook her head, "If you're going to smoke go outside and step ten paces away."
"Fine." Eiffel stood up, "but I don't like it."
"I don't need you to like it," Minkowski reminded him.
As Eiffel stepped out Doctor Hilbert stepped in, "Morning Doc," Eiffel grumbled as he passed.
"Hello Doctor Hilbert," Minkowski leaned against the bar, "What can I do for you?"
"A bottle of whiskey if you please, it's for a patient," he said quickly.
"Just a second Doctor," Minkowski turned to her perfectly organized bottles and tried to decide which kind would be most appropriate.
"Eiffel seemed a little tense, is there something wrong?" Hilbert asked.
"He's just mad I won't let him smoke in my bar. Even after I've repeatedly told him he's not allowed," Minkowski placed the bottle on the counter, "is this strong enough for you?"
"Yes, this is good, it can go on my tab, correct?" He asked.
"Sure th-thing Doctor Hilbert!" Came Hera's reply from the back room.
"How does she do that? She can't possibly know what kind I gave him," Minkowski said to herself.
"Minkowski, speaking of Eiffel, since he hasn't lived here long, I was wondering how much do you know about him?" Hilbert asked.
"Enough," Minkowski said slightly suspicious, she turned her back to Hilbert and stared hard at the bottles, "You know he wandered in here two and a half years ago, and I don't give a damn about where he was before."
"Sorry for my asking, forgive an old Doctor for being curios," Hilbert said reassuringly.
"You're not that old Doctor," Minkowski turned around and smiled, "now get, that surgery's not going to preform itself."
"Of course thank you Minkowski, and you too Hera," Hilbert said.
"Goodbye Doctor Hilbert!" Hera said chipper as ever.
After he had left Minkowski dropped her smile, "Hera, you heard what Hilbert said right?"
"About Eiffel ma'am?" Hera asked.
"Do you think he, no that's ridiculous," Minkowski shook her head.
"Knows s-someth-thing we don't?" Hera finished Minkowski worries.
"No that's ridiculous," she repeated, but she paused and frowned harder, "but he's right we don't know much about Eiffel."
"You heard Doctor Hilbert, he was just curious, don't let it get to your h-head," Hera said almost in singsong, "it feels like we've know Eiffel for f-forever, and we won't be getting rid of him any t-time soon. What's in his p-past is his own business."
"You're right Hera," Minkowski sighed and smiled.
"Of course I am ma'am," Hera called back.
"I smoked eleven paces away," Eiffel pointed at Minkowski as he pushed through the swinging doors.
"How thoughtful of you Eiffel," Minkowski smiled in that special way of hers that felt like she wasn't very thankful at all.
Eiffel fell back onto his stool and played a quick trill without really looking, "What should I play ladies?"
"Can you p-please p-play the Entertainer Eiffel," Hera asked sweetly.
"Sure thing Baby," Eiffel spun around and began playing the cheerful tune.
Minkowski couldn't help but let the music take her thoughts to a day almost three years ago...
"I need a drink," the man collapsed at one of the bar stools his voice as scratchy as the beard gone days unshaven on his face.
"That depends are you paying?" Minkowski scowled, she needed to tend to the actual paying customers.
"Do you do tabs here?" The man asked his voice steady but hands shaking.
"Not for people I've never seen before who barge into my bar ten minutes before I close up shop," Minkowski countered with snake venom in her words.
"I could do something for you around here, couldn't I? Clean up, sweep the floors," the man looked around his eyes resting on a piano covered with a dusty white sheet, "I could play the piano for you."
"Sure you could," Minkowski looked at his shaking hands.
"Thanks!" He said and pulled the sheet off sending a cloud of dust into the air.
"That wasn't my permission, Sir, Sir!" But as she spoke he sat down and let his hands glide across the ivory he took a deep breath and began to play. It was a simple tune he's picked up somewhere but everyone in the bar stopped and listened to the unfamiliar sound. Minkowski stopped her protests and listened, "Not bad," she said after a moment breaking the spell, the patrons went back to talking and drinking but still kept an ear open for the piano.
"It's great," she heard Hera's soft voice come from the back room.
"It's called the Entertainer," the man explained, his voice slowly returning to something a lot higher pitched but a lot more real as well.
"This might have earned you a drink Mr.?" Minkowski leaned against her bar waiting for an answer from this mystery man.
"Eiffel. Douglas Eiffel," and he turned to smile at her though he stumbled over a few notes in the process, she didn't know but that smile was the first real one he'd had on his face in a long time.