Welcome to my first attempt at Blogging!
I wish to thank the Friends that have suggested it (you know who you are!)
I will be putting stories, pics, riding tales and short stories I have written.
Remember, everything I write here is protected by copyright laws. I write short stories as a (small) way to increase my limited income. I have actually sold some of my stories so I can tell that there is SOMEBODY out there that enjoys them. So sit back, read and please COMMENT on them! I wecome critique and (of course) praise!
Dead Drunk
by Jake Walker
“Hey you!”
Jake checked the dark mirror and mentally kicked himself for not hearing the low squeak of the bar door when it opened. A short but thick man stood facing Jake’s back and just by his stance, Jake knew this man was a fighter. Sloped shoulders, feet slightly spread and left foot forward marked him as a right hander. Jake slowly swiveled on his stool and looked at the dude with a dead-black stare.
He didn’t say a word and the silence stretched across the deserted bar. He heard Bobbi walk out of the back and stand behind the bar, just behind his right shoulder. He also heard her quietly pull the sawed-off 12 gauge from it’s cradle. His eyes never left the man and a big-dog grin spread across his weathered face.
“Well, you called me out. Whadda ya want?” Jake drawled. He watched the man’s reaction to his voice as it echoed from the dusty walls. The newcomer’s eyes narrowed slightly and he eased three steps closer to the bar.
“Are you Jake Walker?” His voice carried a hint of menace, and something else. Jake couldn’t put his finger on it but it seemed that this cowboy was someone he should remember. Someone out of his past. Jake allowed his right hand to slowly drop onto his right thigh, closer to the Colt that rested in his waistband.
“Who wants to know?” Jake’s grin faded slightly when the gun flashed into the cowboy’s hand. A nickel plated 38 or 357 revolver was now pointing at his chest. Jake laughed low and shook his head.
“Lonny Yates. Last time I saw you it was 1973. You were drunk, handcuffed and on your way to jail in the back of a patrol car.” Jake turned his back to the man and was gratified to see Bobbi with her scatter gun leveled at Lonny. She looked at Jake and cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Friend of yours?” she asked.
“Nope.” Jake glanced at Lonny in the cracked mirror behind the bar and saw that the pistol had disappeared from his hand. Bobbi slowly lowered the alley sweeper and laid it on the bar.
“What are ya drinkin’ Lonny?” Bobbi asked.
“I’ll have a... coke.” Jake noticed the hesitation in his voice, looked at him again and saw that the cowboy was now walking towards the bar. He pulled out the seat next to Jake and settled himself onto it. Bobbi brought him the soda and a glass of ice. He opened the can and slowly poured it’s contents into the glass. Jake waited and Lonny cleared his throat and began to speak in a flat monotone voice.
“There was a time when I thought that when I found you, I would kill you.” He drank a long gulp of the dark liquid before speaking again. Jake saw that the years had etched themselves deep into the man’s face and there was a darkness in his eyes that Jake had seen before. The eyes of a killer. A person that has caused the death of another. ‘Tombstone Eyes’ Jake called it and he saw that look everyday when he stared into the mirror. Jake thought back to the last time he had seen Lonny.
“It was 1973 and I was sitting on my Sportster in the left turn lane of a giant intersection in El Paso Texas. There were four cages in front of me, no one behind and the light was red. I had a habit at that time of slipping the bike into neutral so I didn’t have to sit with the clutch pulled in. It just so happened that I couldn’t find neutral as I coasted to a stop, so I just sat there with the clutch pulled in.” Jake was recalling that day and he could see that Lonny was listening intently.
“I had a small tear-drop mirror on the left and it was almost useless because of the gyrations that the motor caused. That lil’ sucker saved my life that day. I heard an engine and glanced into the wild swirls in that mirror and I saw a fast moving BIG pickup pull into my lane. I glanced again, just a second later and all I saw was a headlight and part of a grill, closing fast!” Jake took a drink of his brew and glanced at Lonny. He was frozen in place, lost in the memory.
“I had just enough time to say ‘Oh shit’ and dump the clutch. I squirted forward to the right of the car in front of me just as that truck hit the car so hard that there was a chain reaction. It caused the line of cars to ALL hit each other and the car in the lead position shot out into the intersection. She barely missed being hit by a large box truck.”
“That how you remember it Lonny?” Jake’s voice had a hard edge to it and the cowboy gulped and shook his head.
“I don’t remember anything from that day...” his voice trailed off and he was silent again.
“Well, let me remind you. The driver of the pickup that caused this was trying to re-start his truck and backup. He was trying to LEAVE! I kicked the bike onto it’s side stand, grabbed the keys and leaped off the bike. I ran around to the driver’s side door, yanked it open and grabbed the dude. He was so drunk that he literally fell out of his rig!”
“You know the old expression ‘There’s never a cop around when you need one’? Well, that day there was one sitting in an unmarked car five or six spaces back. He saw the whole thing, including when I grabbed the dude and dragged him out of his crunched rig. I was so pumped on adrenaline that I hauled back and was about to pop that drunk right in his kisser.” Jake paused, took a drink of his brew and continued.
“A loud voice behind me yelled ‘DON’T DO THAT!’ Something told me that this was a cop and I jumped up and away from the idiot. I threw both my hands in the air, looked at the cop and yelled “Damn glad you’re here! Did you see what happened?” He had his gun out, pointing it at ME but the slight grin on his face told me that would soon change. He lowered his pistol and pointed it at the drunk dude and told him to lay still and not move. In the next few minutes the drunk was handcuffed and stuffed into the cop’s cage.
“Then the cop came back, clapped me on the shoulder and told me ‘I’m glad you didn’t hit him, I would have had to arrest you, too! I saw you jump off your bike and head around to his door. Knew I had better get there pretty fast because I saw the look on your face! Now go move your bike and come fill out a statement.” Jake drained the last of his brew. Bobbi set a fresh frosty in front of him and she studied the lines on the two men’s faces.
“To this day, I still think what I would have looked like if idiot-boy here had hit me from behind and shoved me into the cage’s trunk. Can you say grease stain? What did I learn that day? To always leave my bike in gear at the intersection. Always keep a sharp eye behind me. Always leave enough space between my bike and the vehicle in front of me to swerve out of the way of oncoming idiots.” When Jake finished his tale, he turned and glared at the man beside him.
The transformation was pathetic. The cowboy looked somehow smaller, like he had shriveled under a harsh light. He turned his bleary eyes to stare at Jake and he said in a hollow voice, “After I almost hit you, they arrested me. I got out on bail two days later and I went on a drunk to end all drunks. I don’t really remember most of it but through it all I remembered you. I blamed you for everything. It was all your fault...” His voice faded again and his eyes lost their focus. Lonny cleared his throat with a long rasp and a hiccup.
“You cost me everything. My job, my wife and kids. My house, my freedom... Everything. And I hated you for it...” His voice had dropped to a whisper and he locked eyes with Jake. Then he sat up straighter and took a deep breath.
“I see you now, sitting here drinking a beer and I can almost taste it. I’ve found you at last and you know the weird thing? I know that you are the reason I quit. When I got out on bail, all I was facing was a one year suspension of my license and maybe 3 to 5 months for DUI.”
“Then, in the middle of that terrible drunk while I was out on bail, I ran over a biker I thought was you. I killed him with my brother’s truck. In a blind, drunken rage, I killed him. That’s what I served time for. I spent 5 years, 7 months and 26 days in hell and the only thing that really mattered was getting out and finding you. I haven’t had a drink, not one drink of alcohol for over sixteen years because I know that I can’t stop. If I have just one, I’ll fall back into the bottle and I might never crawl out.” He was crying now. Silent tears coursed down his face. He rested his head on his hands and wept onto the bar.
“Five years, seven months and 26 days in hell?” Jake repeated quietly. “That ain’t nearly enough for taking a man’s life. A man that never done any wrong to you. Well, if you’ve come looking for me to find forgiveness or absolution, you’re not gonna find it here Lonny. All you’re gonna find here is an ass whoopin’.” Jake’s hand was now wrapped firmly around the butt of the 45. His thumb sought the safety on the side and as he started to pull the Colt, Lonny raised his wet face and laid his hand on Jake’s arm.
“No, I didn’t come here for any of that. I came to thank you for what you did that day. For filling out the report. I came to say ‘Thank You’. I carry the gun because in the last ten years I’ve been lookin for ya, I’ve had several ass whoopin’s and have had quite a few pistols pulled on me. Seems like everywhere YOU go, folks just seem to always be lookin out for ya. I just kinda wish I could have that kind of friends wherever I go.” He finished his soda and stood up.
“Good meeting you Jake, or should I say Edge?” He stuck out his hand and Jake looked at it with slitted eyes. He took a deep breath and released his grip on the 45. He stood up and looked at the man’s hand and then punched him right in the mouth with as much force as he could muster. He looked down at the unconscious body and spit on his chest.
“That’s for the biker you killed. Be glad I don’t shoot you right now and rid the world of another piece of shit.” Jake drained his beer and asked Bobbi,
“You still got those handcuffs?”
“Damn right I still got ‘em and I want ‘em back!” Bobbi reached under the scarred bar and retrieved a pair of S&W bracelets and handed them and the key to Jake. Jake grinned for the first time since Lonny walked in.
“You know I’ve got a key Bobbi!” He cuffed the man, then he went and got his bro Cuz. They loaded the Lonny into his Chevy and drove him twenty miles out of town. Cuz followed them in the club’s old Ford truck and when Jake removed the shackles Cuz looked at his Prez and asked him
“What now, bro?”
Jake stood over the unconscious killer, then he took Lonny’s 357 out of his waistband. He unloaded the gun and threw the bullets in one direction and heaved the pistol in the opposite. He thought for a minute and then very deliberately took his middle finger and dipped it in the blood on the cowboy’s face. He smeared the blood on the windshield and formed two words there as a gory message for him when he woke up.
The ride back to the bar was a quiet one. As Cuz drove back to town, he glanced at his friend and riding partner. When they got back to Bobby’s, Jake gave the cuffs to Cuz to give back to their owner. Cuz started to speak and Jake cut him off.
“I know what you’re gonna ask me. It was my kid brother’s name. That’s the name I wrote on his windshield. He killed my baby brother Cuz, thinking it was me. I need to take a ride.”
As Cuz drove off, Jake kicked the old bike to life, dropped into the saddle and roared out into the desert, his thoughts centered on his long lost brother and the twist of fate that had brought him face to face with his killer.
updated 4-15-2012
Welcome... more
April 17, 2012- -
-
Report
Ride Free
Tweek
April 18, 2012- -
-
Report