Pint of No Return (3 page)

She scrolled through the available spaces.  The large warehouse style rooms, where the farm animals were displayed during the fair, looked to be much too large for what she envisioned.  Plus, the event would be very chilly in those rooms, as they were tough to heat.  There was a large convention center that Callie remembered as festooned with quilts and homemade cakes during the county fair.  Although the prices were not as high as a hotel’s, they were out of the range Callie would feel comfortable with at this event. 

The Johnson Pavilion, home to multitudes of grange displays, would be her best bet.  The price wasn’t too high, the space was adequate without being too large, and from the few photos there were on the website, it looked like it had been repainted inside.  She’d have to go over and tour the space before renting it.

She dialed the number for event rentals at the fairground and explained what she was looking for.  She set up a time for a site visit the following week, but even without the visit, she was hopeful she’d found a home for the brew fest.

Chapter Two

Callie had spent the month of September in numerous meetings with Walt to discuss the event so that she felt she could present well at the brewer’s guild meeting.  It was a warm, pleasant October evening and she was undecided in what to wear to address a bunch of guys who made beer.  Callie figured they would be a fairly casual bunch, even for Skinner, so gravitated towards a black cardigan over a sleeveless royal blue cotton blouse.  These would match her dark jeans and black flats.  She accented the outfit with chunky gold jewelry to dress it up a bit.  Although Callie considered herself a fairly independent personality, she disliked entering a room of strangers with whom she hadn’t yet made a connection.  Clothes were her defense against that particular uncertainty.  The best defense was a good offense, she thought, looking at herself in the mirror.   

After she arrived, she stayed in the parking lot for a moment and looked at the people emerging from their cars, hoping to see Walt or Yuki, but had no luck. She didn’t need to look at her phone to know that as usual, she was early for a meeting.  Callie was the living embodiment of the phrase, “if you're early, you're on time; if you're on time, you're late,” and wasn’t certain if this was a curse or a blessing as she often found herself with nothing productive to do with those early minutes.

Sighing, she got out of the car and headed towards the door.  The Barton Public House looked much the same from the outside as it had looked on her previous visit.  The stained glass in the heavy oak door gleamed a translucent green and blue as the late evening sun hit the window.  The pale yellow paint under the pointed dark green eaves was beginning to peel.  Callie wondered if Zeke’s recovery from his broken legs the past summer was keeping him from doing maintenance on the house.

She pulled open the door.  The room where she and Polly Barton had met in the summer had been rearranged so the tables were in a large U around the perimeter of the room.  There was a podium standing in the middle of the open side. 

Polly, standing behind the bar and drawing a beer, saw her come in.  “Callie!  What can I do for you?”

Relieved to see someone she knew, Callie walked over and sat on a stool.  “I’m here to do a short presentation on Bru-topia.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d get involved in the largest beer festival in town.  What can I get you?  It’s on the house.  Whichever brewery is hosting, buys for the whole guild meeting.”  Polly was wearing her long red hair in a braid and was dressed in a blue and yellow tie dye t-shirt and jeans.

“You’re a brewery, too?  I thought you were just a pub.”

“Zeke had a lot of free time this summer and decided to try home brewing in the basement.  The stuff he made was pretty good, so we decided to go in whole hog.  We’re not making lots of beer, but just enough to sell here.  We have a cask ale and a few others that we bottle.”

“I’m still learning all the nuances there are to brewing.  I don’t think I’m in the mood for anything dark or heavy, but other than that, I’m open to your recommendation.”

“Let’s have you try our Barton’s Silk.  This is what is called a cask conditioned ale.  A part of the fermentation process is done in a small cask and not in a large tank.  Plus, this beer has never had anything added to increase its carbonation.  I’m not telling you that because it’s bad, but just to warn you the feeling on your tongue is not going to be the usual fizzy bubbling you might get with a majority of beers.”

Callie, remembering the smooth nut brown ale she tried at the Barley and Sheaf, nodded.  “It never occurred to me that beer could have so many textures,” she said. 

Polly laughed.  “You and me both.  Zeke tried out quite a few different brews and I was amazed at the variety.”  She set a glass on the bar in front of Callie.  The liquid was a dark golden color and Callie thought there were few flecks of something floating in the glass.

Polly saw her look.  “That’s the yeast that remains in the beer.  It’s part of the process, not a dirty glass,” she said. 

Callie took a sip.  There was definitely less carbonation than even the nut brown ale and the beer was not as cold as what she had tasted at the taphouse.  “I understand why you call this silk,” said Callie.  “It has a very smooth feel on the tongue.”

A hand touched her shoulder.  “Callie, it’s good to see you again,” said Walt.  “It looks like Polly has set you up with our favorite beverage.  Let me introduce you to one or two of the folks who will be helping us out at Bru-topia.”

Walt looked at the drink she was holding.  “Ah, you’re trying one of Zeke Sherman’s special brews.  What do you think?”

“Can you recognize any beer in town just by sight?” 

“Not all of them.  But I know Polly is really proud of Zeke and pours that beer for anyone she can.”

“I like it.  The flavor is good, but I’m not sure I can get used to the temperature.  I think I prefer my beer a little chillier.”

“And you a red wine drinker,” he said teasingly.  “I’m sure you could grow used to this in time.  The flavors really come through when they aren’t masked with the temperature.  I see someone who might give you some ideas about what the past event was like.”  He waved across the room.  “Ethan, come over here and meet Callie.”

A tall man pulled himself out of a group on the other side of the room and walked over to where they were standing near the podium.  The man was a head taller than Callie and Walt, but stocky, and his fine brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.  His small brown eyes were almost hidden by the narrow framed black glasses he wore.  He wore a dark green button down shirt with the logo for one of Skinner’s larger breweries, Magic Waters, embroidered in black on the front left pocket. 

“Ethan Fillmer, I’d like you to meet Callie Stone,” said Walt. 

Ethan’s hand was cool and clammy in Callie’s.  “Walt seems to think you’re going to fix all of Bru-topia’s ills and make it better,” he said.

Callie caught a note of challenge in his voice.  Walt heard it, too.  “Ethan was part of the organization that sold the name to us a year or so back,” he said.

“Against my advice,” said Ethan.  “The main sponsor pulled out, but we could have made the event work.  That one year was bad because it was so sudden.”

Callie knew that changes she made, especially if they improved the event, would be compared to the previous iterations of Bru-topia.  People who were involved in earlier incarnations of events often felt defensive.  They seemed to think any changes were a critical comment on what had happened when they managed the event.  Callie knew the only way to defuse such defensive attitudes was to create an event more successful than the previous one.  However, as success or failure would not be gauged until long after the last beer was served, she knew she was going to spend a lot of time convincing this man to do things in a new way. 

She smiled.  “I like to think of myself as more of a facilitator than as someone who solves all the world’s ills.  I hope I can make suggestions and coordinate things so that the event’s costs are lower, and yet we still showcase the best beers in Skinner.”  She thought a change of subject might be in order.  “How long have you been a brewer?”

“All my life, I guess.  My grandfather started Magic Waters in the 1930’s, my dad, Floyd, took it up after granddad passed away and I run the brewing operations there today.  Probably hasn’t been a day in my life that didn’t have some beer in it.”

“Magic Waters was Skinner’s first commercial brewery and now is the one with the longest continual operation.  Floyd, Ethan’s father, was the founding member of our Brewer’s Guild,” said Walt.

“Walt mentioned you were possibly looking for sponsorships.  Magic Waters might be interested in getting in on that,” said Ethan.

“That’s a little of what I’m going to speak about tonight.  There are quite a few opportunities that cost anywhere from a few hundred dollars to a few thousand.”

“Which ones will get a sponsor the most exposure?” asked Ethan.

Callie glanced over to Walt to make sure he didn’t mind her sharing possible sponsorships with Ethan before having a discussion with the rest of the group.  He smiled at her which she took as a sign it was ok.  “In my opinion, the tasting glasses have the most legs, so to speak.  Not only will they be used at the event, but they are a tangible souvenir that will continue to act as advertising for as long as the person keeps the glass.”  She didn’t add that also made the glasses the most expensive item to sponsor.

“That’s what we want then,” said Ethan. 

“But you don’t even know what else is out there,” said Callie.  “There might be something else you think is better.  You might not just want to take my opinion on it.”

“If you’re as expert as you say you are, I should take your advice, right?” asked Ethan. 

Callie knew this was a discussion where she would be in the wrong no matter what she said.  “How about this?  I’ll pencil you in for the sponsorship for the glasses and make sure you have first claim on it, but if you see something else that fits better with your business, you can change your mind.”

“First claim is what Magic Waters is due,” said Ethan.  “And I won’t change my mind.”

Even though Ethan’s sponsorship bid was a little aggressive, Callie hoped the remainder of the sponsorships would be taken up as easily.

Ethan, who was facing the door, raised a hand to someone Callie couldn’t see.  “Will you excuse me?” he asked.

Relieved to be out of his presence, Callie looked at Walt.  “Are they all that way?” she asked. 

“The other brewers?  No,” Walt said, laughing.  “Ethan’s a bit competitive, that’s all.  His dad has been very successful and Ethan just wants to make sure he takes Magic Waters to the next level.”

“Skinnertons are usually such a laid back group.  Ethan’s got a personality I’d find on the East Coast.  Seems like a real Wall Street raider type.”

“Really? You think we’re laid back?  You’re from Skinner and you aren’t very laid back.  I would think you’d need to have a certain aggressiveness to survive planning events.”

“Maybe that’s why I left,” she said thoughtfully.  “I didn’t fit in when I was a kid.  I hadn’t quite seen it that way. Maybe I’ve mellowed since then.”

He raised one eyebrow as if he wanted to debate that idea, but whatever he was about to say was stopped by the dull clang of a bell.  “That’s the sign for the meeting to begin,” said Walt.  “It’s open seating, so let’s just go sit over here.”  He steered her to one side of the U and they sat.

Callie looked around at the rest of the group.  Almost everyone wore some sort of brewery branded item.  She’d have to get with Walt and ask for one of his shirts.  As his pub served a rotating selection of beers and didn’t brew any of his own, his shirts were probably as neutral as one could get.

When everyone was seated, Callie noticed Zeke sat, while Polly moved about the room refreshing drinks.

A man stepped behind the podium.  “Let’s call the meeting to order.”  He wasn’t a tall man and Callie could see he had stepped on a box to be above the level of the podium.  “For those who don’t know me, I’m Mark Ryan from Long Boom Brewery.  I think we know most everyone in the room, but I see a few unfamiliar faces, so why don’t we start over here and have everyone introduce themselves?”

“He’s this year’s guild president,” Walt whispered to Callie.

The introductions started on the side of the room across from Callie.  She noticed Ethan was sitting in one of the corner seats.  Although everyone else had ended their conversations for the start of the meeting, he was still talking with the man sitting next to him.  He wasn’t paying attention, so when his turn came the guild president had to call out his name.  “Ethan?”

“Oh, sorry.  Ethan Fillmer, Magic Waters.”

The man Ethan had been talking to raised his head.  “Chris Ashton, Sylvan Ales.”  The room wasn’t well lit, so she couldn’t see his features in detail, but she got the impression that others in the room silenced at the sound of that somewhat bass voice.  His posture was relaxed compared to Ethan, who was almost rigid with compressed energy.

The person on the other side of Chris said, “Karl Redding, Brewer’s Association.”

Callie leaned over to Walt, “I thought this was the brewer’s association?”

“No, this is the Skinner Brewer’s Guild.  Karl is from the national association of craft brewers.”

The introductions continued around the room.  Polly’s partner, Zeke, introduced himself and Callie noticed that, although the casts were off of his legs he still had a cane resting on the chair next to him.  Overall there were about thirty brewers in the room, an impressive amount, thought Callie, for a town the size of Skinner.  Maybe the town’s favorite beverage would switch from coffee to beer. 

Walt introduced Callie when their turn came and Callie saw Ethan elbow his neighbor and make a comment.  Chris ignored him and smiled across the room at Callie.  She still couldn’t see his features, but his smile made her stomach flutter a little for some reason.

The guild president ran through a few business issues with the group, and Callie realized her presentation was not the main agenda item for the evening.  Although she and Walt were scheduled to be first, the focus was going to be on Karl Redding.