Chapter 3
(Malt Liquor)
I flew down the stairs and looked around for the gnome and the man. I spotted the pair dancing around a couple of empty barrels while the man kept trying to grab the gnome and the gnome kept dodging just out of his grasp.
“Hey, stop!” I shouted as I rushed toward the pair.
Both turned to look at me for a moment, and then the human growled and lunged for the gnome. The gnome squeaked and darted away, but not before the human managed to tear his shirt.
“Hey!” I yelled. “What the hell is going on over here?”
“Don’t touch me,” the gnome shouted at his attacker. “Or I’ll put you in my bad books!”
“You think I care about that?” the man slurred and then laughed. “You silly fart!”
I honestly didn’t know what to do. There was clearly some sort of personal beef going on, and as a rule, I tried not to interfere in those situations unless someone was clearly getting the shit beat out of them. And the gnome seemed to be handling himself just fine, though I wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay out of the other man’s grasp.
“Please, Sir,” the gnome said as he ran behind my heels. “Please keep me away from that drunkard.”
“Just stay behind me,” I said. “It’ll be fine. I’ll just talk --”
“Who the hell are you?” the man shouted. “Get out of the way! You little stinkin’ coward! Come out here and face me!”
“That’s enough!” I barked. “Go sober up. You smell like a urinal.”
“I… I smell like a what?” the man huffed as he reared back.
“You heard me,” I growled. “Now, get out of here.”
The man looked like he wanted to reply, but his eyes suddenly rolled around in their sockets for a moment. He swayed back and forth a couple of times, and then his eyes landed on the gnome again. He took another step forward, but I simply pushed him back.
He stumbled and looked at me in confusion, and then he spat on the ground at my feet. His eyes rolled again, but he managed to stay on his feet long enough to stomp off.
“Okay,” I said and shook my head. “Not quite the way I usually start my mornings.”
“Hi,” a small voice said to me. “Who are you?”
“Oh, hi,” I replied as I looked down.
As if any of this couldn’t get any weirder, the garden gnome was now clinging to my legs. He still looked grumpy, but that seemed to be his normal face.
“I’ll get you!” the drunk called from the edge of the property.
“I won fair and square!” the gnome retorted. “So run back home, you sorry excuse for a man!”
“Oh, no, no, no,” I muttered as the drunk puffed out his chest.
“You little shit,” the drunk growled as he lunged toward us.
“Why the hell did you antagonize him?” I asked the gnome.
“You… little sack of crap!” the drunk as he leaned over and tried to reach behind me.
The gnome squeaked again and ran around me while the drunk tried to grab him. But that required too much coordination, and the drunk soon tumbled to his knees.
“Steve and Pleeve he’s on his knees,” he chanted. “Come and get me!”
“No, come on, dude,” I said and shook my head. “Leave him alone. Stop fighting! I know that Hildegard won’t take too kindly to people fighting on her property, especially with a drunkard at this hour in the morning!”
The drunk man tried to raise himself up, but he started to make a retching sound instead. The gnome and I both backed up, though the man managed to hold onto whatever he’d been about to release.
“He stiffed me!” the drunk slurred and pointed a shaky finger at the gnome. “You have no idea, and you should mind your own damn business! That little shit fucked me out of two hundred silver pieces!”
It seemed like an acid dream as the tiny gnome ran behind my legs and clung to them for dear life.
“I won it fair and square!” the gnome retorted. “Leave me alone!”
At least the gnome seemed to know what was going on, though the other guy was definitely wasted. And that made him dangerous.
“Hnnng,” the man muttered. “You swindler! This is a robbery!”
“Please!” the gnome begged as he tugged on my pants. “I’m a good player! It’s in my blood! He’s just a sore loser and a drunk!”
I was starting to get annoyed that the drunk hadn’t left yet. Sure, the gnome had taunted him, and no doubt his ego had made him turn back, but it was clear at least to me that the idiot wasn’t going to get anything for his effort.
And come on. It was early in the morning, and he seemed trashed. His face was contorted into a grimace, he stank like shit, and I didn’t want anything more to do with him.
It didn’t hurt that I wanted to get in good with my landlady as well, and she definitely wouldn’t have put up with this crap. I’d bet she saw a lot of sorry drunks in the inn, and this was not the ideal way to start the working day.
“Fuck off,” I said. “The fight is over. Go home now, man.”
It crossed my mind that I’d never even seen a sentient garden gnome before, let alone defended one in a fight. But no matter what world I was in, I wasn’t going to allow the fantasy world equivalent of a drunken Seahawks fan to beat up on someone who was a lot smaller.
Especially if the gnome had won whatever game they’d been playing fair and square.
The drunk man tried to stand up and then lurched toward the gnome again. I could feel the gnome’s fingers digging into my calves as he tried to avoid the sore loser’s grip, but the gnome needn’t have worried. I threw a punch without even thinking about it, and I heard the man’s jawbone crunch beneath my fist.
He flopped to the ground in a crumpled heap, and a small pile of dust rose up around him. He hiccupped once and then went still, and for a second, I was afraid that I’d killed him.
I was a hell of a lot bigger than the asshole, but I didn’t think that I’d hit him all that hard. But he still wasn’t moving, so I started to kneel down to check for a pulse.
And then the guy snored really loudly, and I shook my head in disgust. The guy was actually asleep at my feet, and I didn’t envy the hangover he was going to have when he woke up.
“Who… who are you?” the gnome asked in a tiny voice. “You’re a giant.”
“No, I’m not a giant,” I laughed. “I’m just tall. What’s your name?”
“Babble,” he smiled, and he brushed off his little blue cardigan and took a few swipes at the ground with his feet like he was claiming his territory. “My name is Babble the Gnome.”
“Babble the Gnome,” I nodded. “Well, Babble, my name is Tyler, and I just arrived in Hagop yesterday.”
“Aye,” he said and looked up at me. “I knew I hadn’t seen you around before. But… you’re sure you don’t have any giant blood in you?”
“Quite sure,” I said. “So, what was all that about?”
“Bah,” the gnome snorted and shook his head. “Just a sore loser. Every time someone loses at dice to a gnome, they claim we’re cheating.”
“And were you?” I asked.
“I would never,” the gnome insisted.
“What in the name of the Hagop River is going on out here?” a familiar voice called over, and Hildegard emerged from the back door of the inn with a wooden spoon in her hand. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning!”
I glanced at the morning sky again and wondered how I’d so miscalculated the time. But then Hildegard was standing next to me, and I forgot all about the hour.
“It appears that one of your patrons is taking a nap, kind Hildegard,” I said with a bow. “He was apparently a rather sore loser at a game of dice.”
“Oh, that’s Henry!” Hildegard announced and rolled her eyes. “He certainly is a sore loser at dice. Just last week he tried to start two fights with elves, and you can imagine how that went.”
“I actually can’t,” I told her. “They don’t have elves where I come from.”
“They don’t?” Babble asked, and his black, beady eyes widened in amazement. “Well, you’re a lucky fellow for that, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” I said in all honesty, though they did seem pretty snobbish from the little information I had on them. “Though the ones I’ve met here don’t seem very nice.”
“That they are not,” Babble replied.
“But back to… Henry?” I said and waved at the lump. “As you can see, this guy is out cold.”
“Unfortunately, this is a common occurrence at an establishment like mine,” Hildegard sighed. “I try very hard to send the worst of them home before they’re too far gone, but sometimes, one slips through the net. I’ll just go get an old fish, and then we can send him on his way.”
“An old fish?” I asked.
“Of course,” the gnome cackled and then grinned. “An old fish is the only way to wake up someone this drunk.”
Hildegard reemerged almost immediately with an old fish in her hands. She held it out a few feet in front of her and used her other hand to cover her nose.
“Stand back,” the dark-haired beauty said in a nasal voice as she approached the drunk man.
In one fell swoop, she lifted the fish and struck him on the face with it. It made a loud slapping sound, and I couldn’t help but cover my mouth so that I didn’t start laughing out loud.
She hit the man with the fish three more times before his eyes fluttered open, and he rumpled his nose in confusion and disgust.
“H-Hilly…” he mumbled. “Ms. Beecham, I am most s-zorry...”
“Get up Henry,” she said with a glare. “And don’t call me Hilly. Only friends call me that, and you’ve been enough of a menace on my property this week that you no longer qualify! Go home!”
The man looked around in confusion for a moment, but he shot me daggers as soon as he saw me. Hildegard raised the fish again, so he rolled onto his knees and somehow pulled himself to his feet. He made a sketchy bow to the innkeeper that nearly sent him to the ground again, and then he toddled out of the yard and back to the street.
“Good for nothing,” Hildegard mumbled under her breath, and then she went over to the well to pull out some fresh water to wash her hands with.
“I can safely say I’ve never seen anything like that before,” I told the gnome, who was perched on an old wooden wine box and swinging his legs back and forth.
“I love retribution,” he smiled. “It comes very sweetly this morning.”
“I bet,” I said. “So you won two hundred silver pieces? That sounds like a whole lot of money.”
“Oh, but of course it is,” he smiled. “Gnomes are especially good at games of chance. Anyone with their head screwed on correctly knows that. But as you just saw now, it seems that perhaps our friend Henry’s head was screwed on backwards, at least last night.”
I shook my head and looked around the backyard for a moment. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and a faint line of dew covered most everything. I could have been back in my world, though I didn’t know anywhere in Portland that had an old well or a talking gnome. I was starting to wonder if I’d hit my head harder than I’d realized, because this place was definitely feeling more like a dream. Maybe I was stuck in a coma in a hospital somewhere, and this was how my mind was keeping itself busy.
“Are you okay?” Babble asked as he peered up at me. “You look a little… peaked.”
“Haha, yeah,” I said in a daze. “I’m… good.”
“So, do you come from the land of giants?” he asked. “I know you said you’re not a giant, but…”
“He comes from the land of Port,” Hildegard said as she joined us. “Don’t you, Tyler?”
“Oh, a tiler!” the gnome laughed. “Now I get it. So you make tiles!”
“No, my name is Tyler, with a Y… apparently it’s not a common name here,” I said. “And I come from a city called Portland.”
“And where is that?” the gnome asked, and his black eyes glinted with genuine curiosity. “By the coast, presumably.”
“Well, it’s in the Northwest United States,” I said. “But in relation to here… I genuinely have no idea, little guy.”
“How curious,” he said. “What brings you to Hagop?”
“In all honesty, I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I was fished out of the river.”
“Ah, a man of mystery,” the gnome said in a dreamy voice, and he looked up and shielded his eyes from the sun. “Well, you may keep your secrets.”
“I’m going to run some errands,” Hildegard said to me. “The Inn isn’t full until noon usually, so don’t trouble yourself until I get back and can tell you what needs to be done. It looks like you’ve already completed one heroic deed for the day, but I don’t want you knocking out any more of my customers.”
“I’ll try,” I replied.
She looked at me for a moment and then shrugged. She waggled a warning finger at Babble, who also shrugged, and then she hurried back inside the inn.
“Come down here, Tyler, so that I can speak in a quieter voice,” the gnome said.
I lifted an eyebrow before crouching down to get to his level on the wine box.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “And why do we need to speak quietly?”
“I am interested in the terms of your employment,” he said, and he started to rub his little hands together like he was cooking up a plan. “You see, you said that you were employed by Miss Beecham… might I ask for what? Has she employed you as a hero?”
“No, that’s just what I do in my spare time, apparently,” I said with a smirk. “But I needed somewhere to stay, and where I come from we don’t use silver pieces to pay for anything, so I’m shacked up in the stable and doing odd jobs around here. Last night I made a stew, today I’m kicking out old drunks…”
“Interesting,” the gnome nodded, and he started to twirl his beard around in his hands. “Wait, did you say that you made a stew?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “The dwarf who was supposed to make it was also drunk. Is everyone in this city just drunk all the time?”
“I’ll have you know that Hagop is a very respectable city,” the gnome said. “It’s only in the inn that people can get a bit, well… carried away. And dwarves famously love their beer.”
“Ah, okay,” I said. “Hildegard mentioned something yesterday about a beer festival, so I guess that makes sense.”
“They do make the best beer,” he said in a grudging tone. “It’s the only reason anyone does business with them.”
“So what’s the pitch?” I asked.
“What do you mean pitch?” he asked.
“You seem way too curious about my job,” I said. “Sounds like you’re up to something.”
“I am,” he admitted, and he started slapping his little knees with his hands. “I’d like to make you an offer.”
“That’s what I figured,” I replied. “So what’s the offer?”
“Well, you seem like a strong man,” he said. “A very strong man.”
“Comparably, yes,” I said. I mean, as long as we didn’t run into the starting offensive line for the Eagles, I could probably take on most of the people in Hagop without any problems.
“How much are you earning here?” he asked and then waggled an eyebrow.
“Why?” I asked. “Because I’m not much of a gambler if you’re trying to get me to play dice with you. I don’t even play the slots in Vegas.”
“Erm, not sure what that is,” he replied. “But I applaud your choice not to engage in such games. It’s foolish for humans to challenge gnomes at a game of chance anyway, everyone knows that. But I assure you, I have no interest in playing dice with you. I promise, I have a better reason for asking.”
He gave me a big smile, and I could see that most of his teeth were crooked. There was something endearing about the gnome, even though I felt like there was something a little tricky about him, too.
“Well,” I said. “With room and board subtracted, I make about seven pieces of silver a day.”
“Pah!” he snorted and shook his head. “I can do better than that. Look here, giant. I say that I will give you twenty pieces of silver a day to be my protector. And I won’t subtract anything for room and board. Of course, you’ll have to find your own room and board now, but with twenty silver pieces, I’m sure you could find something better than a barn.”
I had to admit that twenty pieces of silver sounded pretty good, especially compared to the seven that I was making.
But then again, the little guy seemed like the type that would always find trouble, and that meant I’d probably spend a lot of time defending him from drunks and sore losers. And though the general population here was pretty short, I wasn’t foolish enough to think that they were all weaker than me. No doubt there were people armed with swords and knives out there who would happily try to slice me in two.
“Nuh-uh,” I said, and his brow furrowed into an expression so sad that I almost wanted to pat him on his tiny gnome hat. “But hear me out. You just made two hundred off of that gamble. If I’m going to be your protector… or bodyguard, I guess, twenty a day is my flat rate.”
The gnome’s face brightened up, and he nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “And then what?”
“And an extra twenty for every scuffle that you get me into,” I decided. “This seems like a tricky business.”
The gnome furrowed his brow again, and I could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. But he looked up at me and shrugged.
“I like someone who is good at bartering,” he said. “It’s a respectable skill, and now you’ve won my respect as well. Fine. You’ll have twenty a day and twenty extra for every fight.”
“Good,” I said. “That settles it.”
I held out my hand, and the gnome took my thumb. It wasn’t as if he could grasp my entire hand with his, so we shook as well as we could on it, and then he spat on the ground.
“Sorry,” he said. “That’s a Hagop custom.”
“Does it make it any less official if I don’t spit on the ground?” I asked. “Because back where I’m from it’s not deemed very respectable.”
“Very well,” he nodded. “As long as we have shaken on it.”
I smiled at the gnome and then started to chuckle. Now that my new employer had a cash incentive to stay out of trouble, I hoped that meant there was less chance that I’d be getting into deadly fights with the drunken locals. And as the new guy in town, I couldn’t really ask for more.
“Now I’m going to have to explain to Hildegard that I don’t work for her anymore,” I sighed. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”
“Of course she will,” he said. “She has workers in and out of here all the time. That dwarf who was doing the cooking yesterday has probably already been replaced. Hildegard’s one of the friendliest people in Hagop, but she doesn’t tolerate laziness on the job.”
“Nor should she,” I said. “But what about Henry? He sounded like he was going to come looking for you after he slept off the booze.”
“Henry will be back to his old tricks in no time, just like me,” the gnome said. “That’s the good thing about gnomes. We’re predictable.”
“You better not be a criminal,” I said. “Because I don’t want to have a bad reputation before I’ve even started in this city.”
“Fear not, giant,” he laughed. “Because I am one of the finest gnomes in Hagop. Sure, the shire magistrate doesn’t care for our kind, but that’s because of the other gnomes! Not me. I barely even hang out in the gnome city anymore…”
He gave a shy look at the ground and twirled his beard slightly before looking up at me and smiling.
“Interesting,” I said. “Well, I better go tell Hildegard. And then, I don’t know… follow you around all day?”
“Sounds perfect,” he replied, and he hopped off the wine box and skipped through the back entrance of the bar.
I think the only time I’d ever been at a bar at this hour was during one unfortunate lock-in during my college years after my friends played a DIY show. Watching the sun rise when you were still very much bleary-eyed was probably one of the most jarring experiences of my life, and I had vowed to never do it again.
But unlike that gross, smelly venue, Hildegard’s place was surprisingly fresh in the morning. It smelled like peppermint and lavender, and the floor was actually clean. The wood glowed like it had been waxed, and even the soot in the fireplace looked like it had been scrubbed. Everything was bathed in red, blue, and gold light from the sunlight that streamed through the stained-glass windows, and fresh candles had been placed in each of the brass candleholders that sat in the center of every table.
The front door was propped open, and I could see the river that ran through the city sparkling in the morning sun. Men in beige tunics and straw hats were starting to gather on the pebbly shores to untangle their nets, while shop owners started to open their doors. It seemed like a calm and respectable existence, and I felt grateful that I was awake this early to see the morning light shine down on the city.
Hildegard appeared in the doorway with a giant canvas bag. The unmistakable aroma of freshly baked bread wafted in with her, and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.
“Let me help,” I said as I grabbed the bag.
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “I had to go pick up the day’s supply. The baker’s cart broke down.”
“You should’ve told me,” I said. “I would’ve been happy to go get it.”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll find you something to do,” she shrugged as I placed the big canvas sack full of fresh bread on the bar counter. “Though I’m not quite sure what yet… That stew you made yesterday was quite good, but I have Mary coming in...”
I exchanged a look with the gnome, who just smiled and nodded. It was time to come clean and tell Hildegard about my new job.
“Ah, about that,” I said. “Umm, I’m so grateful for your hospitality, Hildegard, but I’ve actually found new work as…”
“As my protector!” Babble shouted, and he flashed his crooked smile at both of us.
Hildegard placed a hand on her hip and nodded at the gnome before throwing me a look. For a second, I held my breath, because even though I was making more money now, I still wanted to stay on the innkeeper’s good side.
“That’s very well,” she said with an honest shrug. “Though I can’t speak to Babble’s respectability as an employer. I only know him as a gambler, which is hardly the same thing.”
“Oh, Miss Beecham,” Babble sighed. “I am a good gnome! All the other gnomes put a gnome with a heart like mine to shame…”
“Gnomes have hearts?” I asked.
“Of course we do!” he snorted. “What, you think a creature like me is heartless?”
“No, no,” I shook my head. I didn’t know how to explain to him that back where I came from, gnomes were usually made out of ceramic, and I hadn’t quite figured out if he was a living statue or a mammal yet.
“Just as long as you pay your room and board on time there shouldn’t be any problems,” Hildegard nodded. “I’m assuming you’ll want to keep your room until you find somewhere else.”
“That would be great,” I said.
“Bah,” Babble said and waved his hand. “With the money I’m paying, you should find somewhere nice.”
“That’s assuming you’ll pay him what he’s due,” Hildegard replied. “But that shouldn’t be a problem, right, Babble?”
“Have I ever given you any cause to doubt me, Miss Beecham?” the gnome pleaded. “Tell me, by the light of the beautiful Hagop sun, have I ever done you wrong?”
“I suppose you haven’t,” she shrugged. “But I must say, Tyler, that was a very good stew you made last night. It’s a pity that there won’t be another.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I said as I shot her a smile. “I actually love to cook. I’ll gladly make any recipe you want, you just say the word.”
I didn’t know if she was unfamiliar with the phrase I used or if she was just bashful with me, because she bit her bottom lip and gave me a shy nod.
“Of course I will,” she mumbled as she hurried behind the bar and emptied a strong, peppermint-smelling liquid onto the counter. “I’m just going to, uh… make sure this shines.”
The dark-haired beauty worked meticulously and carefully as she polished the bar, and she obviously took great pride in both the establishment and her appearance. Her sleek, dark hair had been carefully braided into two plaits and pinned in a wreath on top of her head, and the dark blue dress and white apron she wore were spotlessly clean.
“How long has this place been in your family?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said as she looked into the distance. “Hundreds of years now. My parents both died in an outbreak when I was sixteen unfortunately, and I’ve been running the place pretty much on my own ever since. My uncle used to help, but he was always more of a countryman, and he farms cattle in the West.”
“Sixteen?” I gasped. “That seems young to be in charge of an inn.”
“Sixteen is a perfectly normal age to begin working,” she said. “And as I said, my uncle helped at first. But once he was sure I could handle the place on my own, he went to tend to his own business.”
“What age do people start working in Portland?” Babble asked.
“Well, some people work at sixteen, but it’s usually just to earn some extra cash or save up for college,” I said. “No one expects it to become their career.”
The gnome and the innkeeper stared at me blankly for a moment, and then Hildegard went back to scrubbing the bar while Babble pulled out a tiny leather book from his tiny green coat and started to scribble in it with a pencil that must’ve been the size of a needle.
“What’ve you got there, bossman?” I asked.
“My accounts book,” he answered as he looked up. “It’s very important that I collect the right money and pay the right money so as not to get in trouble. I haven’t gotten in terrible trouble once yet in the human world, and it’s all because of my accounts book.”
“Good to know,” I said. “That should make my job a little easier. I’m not looking to get killed out there, you know.”
“Terrible trouble means hanging,” Hildegard yawned.
Ah, okay. So it was one of those societies. Terrible wasn’t just an adjective, it was an actual sentence carried out by the sheriff.
“Anything good for breakfast, Ms. Beecham?” the gnome asked as he tucked his book back in his coat.
“We have fresh bread and butter with apricot jam,” she said after she shot him an impatient look. “Does that sound suitable to the both of you?”
“That sounds delicious,” I replied as I glanced at the bread.
She smiled at me as she collected the bag of bread and headed into a room behind the bar. She returned almost immediately with two giant slices of bread that looked like it had been cut from the middle of the loaf and then smothered in creamy butter and a light orange jam, which she placed in front of me. She had cut a much smaller portion for the gnome, who probably would’ve exploded if he’d attempted to eat my breakfast.
“Thanks so much,” I said as I picked up one of the slices.
I bit into the fresh bread and jam and was totally blown away. Even though it was a simple breakfast, it was one of the best things I’d ever eaten. The succulent sweetness of the apricots burst in my mouth like sunlight, and they left a perfectly tart aftertaste. It was the freshest butter I think I’d ever eaten in my life, and the bread was still warm from the oven.
“This is amazing,” I said between mouthfuls.
“Respectfully, Tyler, it’s only bread and jam…” she said and laughed.
“Yes,” I nodded. “But it’s still very good. I just need something to wash it down with…”
“Beer?” the gnome suggested.
“What, beer with breakfast?” I laughed in surprise and then glanced between the two.
“Of course,” the gnome said. “You saved my life today, and the least I can offer is some of Hagop’s finest export.”
“Well, you’re the boss,” I said. “And I guess I’ve had a long twenty-four hours. Sure. Cheers to my new life. Let’s have beer and toast for breakfast.”
“Beer and toast for breakfast!” The gnome laughed, and he banged his fists on the countertop. They didn’t make a particularly loud noise, but I was glad that he still seemed excited about having me as his sidekick.
“I’ll get that right up,” Hildegard said as she reached for two copper tankards from the top shelf. “Would that be human beer or dwarf beer?”
I looked at the gnome, who only offered me a goofy smile.
“Umm, I’m gonna go with human beer I guess,” I said. “Since I’m a human.”
It only seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, it was my first instinct. After all, I was a human man, might as well drink some of the beer made for humans, right?
“Suit yourself,” the gnome muttered under his breath, and he knocked on the table and smiled at Hildegard. “I’ll take some of the Pyotr House. Finest this year.”
“And finest last year,” Hildegard trailed off as she poured the gold liquid. “And the year before that, and before that I think, and before that it was…”
“Jillburn Tower,” the gnome sighed. “That brewery went downhill pretty quickly after the fire.”
Man. Between outbreaks and fires, it sounded like these guys had a lot of disasters to deal with, but it was hard to reconcile that with all the natural beauty in Hagop.
Hildegard placed the two tankards of beer on the counter in front of us and smiled.
“Drink up,” she said. “You can tell us how it compares to the beer in Portland.”
I looked down and smiled, and then I took a swig.
But as the flavor hit my tongue, I was shocked. Nope, this was not what I had been expecting at all.