Sex-on-the-Beach in Gladstone NE

My ’63 Lincoln and I didn’t much like being landlocked so if it weren’t for work commitments I wouldn’t be making my way through the heartland. I was not only in Nebraska but also in the middle of the state, in Gladstone. It billed itself as the largest little town in the state, which was quite a claim and I decided to see how their cocktails tasted.

I found a tavern, which wasn’t officially in Gladstone. The town itself was so small that I hardly knew when I crossed the town limits. I walked towards the back bar and found an oasis. The establishment sat on a reservoir. Water in the middle of farmland made me think of lying on the beach. I sat down and ordered a drink from the woman behind the bar.

“I’ll have a sex-on-the-beach. I’m Cecil and I’m just wandering through your great state. You probably think my order is odd. It seems like something I would order on Venice Beach.

She laughed. “I get people ordering a sex-on-the-beach almost daily; in fact, I just made on for the doughy fellow sitting down the bar. I appreciate the irony. I’m Claire.” She wiped her hand on her apron before offering to shake mine. “While I prepare you’re beverage, you can enjoy the weekly county newspaper. You likely read the big city papers but there is something innocent about the local news in a small town.” She smiled as she passed the awkwardly folded paper in my direction.

Claire turned her back to me as she got to work on my sex-on-the-beach. I could see her smiling face in the mirror behind the bar. She seemed to enjoy her job, which always resulted in a yummy cocktail. Claire picked up a clean damp shaker from the drying cloth and she packed it with crushed ice. She picked up the tacky bottle of peach schnapps, filled a shot glass and poured it over the ice. Next came a shot plus another half of vodka followed by a quick pour of cranberry, orange and pineapple juices. Claire used another shaker as the lid, shook the mixture, and then popped off the top. With her free hand, she poured the blend over cubed ice in a highball glass. A cherry floated on top and an orange slice hung on the rim for garnish.

“Sorry, it isn’t served with an umbrella Cecil, as that would complete the tropical effect.”

“This is all I needed; a fruity drink and a patch of water.” I sipped my sex-on-the-beach. “Delightful Claire. I’ve been reading about your local vigilante or criminal as one editorial calls the man. He sounds a little like a superhero but I don’t know the entire story so perhaps I’m wrong. My nephew is into Captain America and The Flash these days so the idea that there is a real person similar to them is exciting.”

“I’m with you Cecil. The mysterious vigilante may ruffle some feathers but I think he’s doing some good in a forgotten pocket of the state. Some people think that because we’re a small town that no will notice if a law is broken.”

I looked down the bar at the man drinking a sex-on-the-beach too. “You look like you’re from around here. Have any thoughts about the avenging angel as some media outlets are referring to him?” I asked the man who was nearing the end of his cocktail.

“What makes you think that I’m from around here?” He snapped.

“You’re wearing a sweatshirt from the local high school that I passed on the way in,” I replied.

“My boy went there and this is just something left lying around. I suppose the guy’s alright if he has anything to do with stopping the flow of illegal drugs into this town. That seems to be the cause of a lot of crime in Gladstone.” The man slapped ten bucks on the bar and walked out. I watched him as he got into his blue pick-up.

“You’ll have to excuse our town grump. He rarely cracks a smile since his son died.”

“Oh, I feel for the guy. I have a buddy who lost a son and has never gotten over it. How’d it happen, if you don’t mind me asking Claire?”

“No I don’t mind. I’ll make you another while I tell you, if you want.”

“Why not. I think I’m gonna walk around the reservoir after I finish, which means I won’t be driving for a while.”

Claire made my sex-on-the-beach just as she had before as she told me about the man at the bar. “His name is Will Travers and his son Will Jr. was a gifted athlete at the high school. He was also an excellent student and a good guy. Along with Will, the whole town was proud of Will Jr. and we were sure his was gonna do great things.” She put a bowl of peanuts on the bar for me to snack on. “Will Jr. went into a convenience store and interrupted a robbery in progress. He tried to stop the criminal who shot Will Jr. He died immediately. His Dad died too that day.”

“Did they catch the guy?” I asked.

“Yeah. Life no chance of parole but the damage was done. The loser was looking to get money to score some drugs. I’ll end on a positive note; they set up a scholarship fund in his honor. Ten kids will benefit from it this year alone.”

I continued looking through the paper, which had several photos of the avenger fleeing the scene. He came to the aid of many residents but no one could catch a glimpse of him. He remained a mystery but I had him figured out. In every photo, there was a truck in background. It was the one I saw Will Travers climb into – he was the avenging angel of Gladstone.

I waved goodbye to Claire who made a delicious sex-on-the-beach. By the door, I noticed a box for donations to the Will Travers Jr. scholarship fund. I stuffed in a twenty and said to myself; “Thanks Will” and smiled.