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Brent looked
up from his table near the back of Frazier's tavern towards the front
door far up on the right. He had
been off work since four‑thirty, but he knew the office people,
including the 'snot-nose, bookworm asshole' didn't get off until Five.
He grinned as he remembered the name.
That new guy was all right. Jeff
had given him a ride back home after the accident so Brent could shower
and change. He called the refinery
and smoothed things over there. Then
he called a tow truck to retrieve the Bronco and helped Brent get the
damned thing back up onto the road. After
they had the Bronco operational again, Brent was determined to repay the
debt.
"Listen,
man, I really owe you for this one, so if you need anything, help moving
or anything at all just let me know."
Jeff had begged
off any favors at the moment. He
claimed to be very busy setting his house in order, but promised that
one of these days they would go drink some beer together. That had been more than two months ago. Brent had seen Jeff from time to time at work and they would chat.
But Jeff always said he was busy tonight, some fix‑it project
or another he would say. Brent finally became insistent. He liked the guy and wanted to make friends
with him.
"Hey,
bookworm!" Brent yelled across
the parking lot one afternoon. Jeff
smiled at the name and went over to talk.
Brent said, "You know, I think maybe you don't want to be
seen with a long hair local like me.
So, I'll tell you what, I'll shave my head and put on orange robes,
then you'll feel right at home."
Jeff laughed.
"No it's
not that I don't like low-life locals, though the robes might be an improvement,
I'm just scared to death of getting in a situation where I might actually
have to drive somewhere with you."
"You'll
do the driving, the Bronco's got too much class." He started laughing again but it was clear he was making an honest
effort at friendship.
Jeff looked
thoughtful after the humor had died down and eyed Brent as if he were
sizing him up, his words, and asking himself if he thought he could trust
this man
"Seriously,
if you mean it, there is something I could use." "Like what", Brent demanded still in mock combat mode.
"Roll over insurance? A Bronco sized Band-Aid?" Jeff just let his gaze fall on Brent, looking
him right in the eye, until Brent defensively shifted his gaze, not liking
the test he had just taken.
"I don't
know anyone here", Jeff started.
"I haven't even attempted to go out and meet people yet, too
much work at home. I don't have
any family, except my mother; I don't have a woman and I don't have any
friends, at least not around here. I
need someone to introduce me to the people here, to help me break through
the natural suspicion of a small town.
Good God, I've been here three months and you're still the only
person I talk to outside the plant. I
need to get out a little, give my head a break.
Let's go out, this time I mean it."
Brent was surprised.
He felt the weight of the test Jeff had just put him through.
Jeff's gaze was still upon him, still intense, but oddly unthreatening. Brent sensed something about Jeff. He wasn't sure quite what it was. An air of superiority? Maybe a dark secret? He did not know. Jeff had done nothing but help him that first day and had been pleasant
and easy to talk too since. Still,
Brent felt vague unease around him. There was something more here.
Brent finally decided those thoughts were all so much paranoia.
"Hey,
It would be a pleasure. Let me
take you around and introduce you. You’ll
like the people of Warrenton. We're
a neat bunch of folks. How about
tonight?" I know it’s only
Tuesday, but there are some hopping places even then." Jeff broke his gaze on Brent and said, "No,
I can't tonight. I have some work
to catch up on. How about Friday
night, you pick the spot and let's go rock n' roll?"
"Fair
enough. How about Friday night? Don't change your mind tomorrow either. If'in you don't go out Friday, then I can't
help you, no one can." Jeff
gave him a wide grin.
"It's
a deal. Where do we meet?" Brent thought for a moment, then said, "Lets
meet after work at Frazier's tavern. We can map out the rest of the evening then."
Brent looked
at his watch and decided to have another beer while he waited for Jeff. He walked up to the bar and motioned to the
barmaid, and his occasional girlfriend, Jennifer. She was several years younger than Brent, 25 years old. She was medium height with dark brown and very
curly hair. Her soft brown eyes
often lit up with anger or passion and she could ignite like a stick of
dynamite with little provocation. She
and Brent had an unsteady relationship that was sometimes fiery then inexplicably
icy, often within one night. They
hadn't actually talked in a couple of weeks because Jennifer had gone
down south to visit her grandparents.
"Hey Brent"
she said as she walked towards him. AAnother Rolling Rock?" Brent
nodded and she pulled one out from the cooler beneath the bar.
Brent fished a dollar out of his wallet to pay for it.
"So"
Jennifer said, "When's your new friend showing up? I thought he'd be here by now. You know the whole town is talking about him."
"Like,
what have you heard, Babe?" Brent
said amiably. Jennifer shot him
a vicious glance.
"How many
times do I need to say it?, she growled.
"Don't call me Babe."
Then she continued.
"He lives
in the old Markel house out route 59.
I heard that three big trucks full of his stuff came when he moved
in. How could anyone own so much stuff! But that's not even all. I hear that two more trucks, and I mean diesel
eighteen-wheeler flatbeds, showed up a couple of weeks ago and unloaded
some big, big equipment into his barn.
The man has got a major hobby on the side." Brent looked at her half amused and half in
wonder. He didn't know any of
this.
"Tell
me, what else have you heard about him?"
"Well
let me see." She started
absently chewing on one fingernail. "He
moved here from California, San Diego I think, and Anne says he's a real
hunk, but Anne thinks every stranger is a real hunk.
That girl is so bad." Jennifer
shrugged, not able to think of other earth shaking news just that second,
then said,
"Linda
is his lawyer but she won't tell me anything.
She claims it’s privileged information.
I didn't know law school would turn her into such a snot."
"Do you
know what sort of hobby?" Brent
asked.
"No, like
he won't tell anyone what he's up to with all that stuff. My brother was one of the guys helping unload
the trucks when he first moved here.
One truck was just your typical household stuff, you know, furniture,
beds, that sort. But the other
two trucks were filled with boxes marked LAB, and there was a lot of strange
looking devices and what my brother swears is a two hundred thousand dollar
commercial server computer, and a couple of things that look like robots."
"Robots?" Brent couldn't hide his surprise.
"Well
that's what my brother said they were, not like on Lost In Space or anything,
industrial robots, you know, the kind that weld cars together in those
pictures of computer run factories, or something like them, I think. Maybe he is going to set up some kind of computer
internet business, wouldn't that be cool? Anyway, if he can afford all that stuff, he doesn't even need a
regular job, right?" Her
talk trailed off.
"O.K. I've spilled my guts, tell me what you know
about him."
"I don't
know anything about him", Brent said defensively, "just that
when I needed help he helped me, and to repay the favor I'm going to show
him around, maybe try and get him laid."
"Then
it's true, it's true" Jennifer said clapping her hands. "What's true?" Brent said, confused.
"He isn't
married, Anne's going to love this. Tell
me where you guys are going tonight and I'll tell Anne, and we can 'run
into' you there."
"Come
on Jen, Anne is not his type, trust me on that.
That would be cruel, and I want him to have fun. Besides, they would look ridiculous together,
sort of like Bulky and Clyde, Zeigfried and Round, Ahab and the great
white whale. No, that's a bad
idea." Jennifer glowered
at him.
"That
isn't a bit funny, you know. Just
because you don't like her is no reason.…
"Forget
it! I'm not going to set him up
with Anne. That's final. Can you imagine what they’d look like together?"
"Can't
tell you that. I've never seen
him." Brent glanced over
at the door.
"Well
you're about to get your chance. That's
him walking in now."
Jeff stepped
through the door of the tavern and knew immediately he would like this
place. It was cozy and nicely
laid out, probably gets a little rowdy on the weekends, he thought. It could be the perfect place to get away from
work, both works; the oil refinery by day and his 'hobby' at night. He needed the refinery job; it provided him
a legitimate front, allowed him to rest his mind, and brought in needed
extra cash. Some of his toys could
get pretty expensive. The refinery
was also a good place to scavenge, especially with all that process instrumentation
that was being replaced. He could
just go to the dump and take anything he wanted.
He had already asked and was assured that no one would mind.
He saw Brent
by the bar talking to the barmaid. She
was pretty, not as pretty as Linda in his eyes, but not bad. His old friend lonliness had been visiting
lately, and he yearned for some simple human contact. The strain of his 'hobby' was becoming intense, and he thought that
if he did not force himself to unwind he might finally go crazy before
it was finished. That outcome
was simply unacceptable. Brent
waved to him and gestured him to join him at the bar.
The barmaid could be accurately described as staring at him. He walked over to Brent, his snakeskin boots
clumping loudly with each step.
"I made
a quick trip home to change. I
wanted to look a little more presentable for the ladies."
Behind the
bar, Jennifer let out a strangled chuckle.
Brent shot her a 'shut up' sort of stare. Jeff looked at both of them puzzled but decided not to say anything.
Jennifer came up to Jeff in her
official capacity, "Hi, what can I get you?" Jeff saw that Brent was drinking Rolling Rock
and decided he wanted one too.
"I'll
have a Rock please." She
handed it up to the bar. Brent
said,
"No, honey
I'll get this round, and by the way Jeff, I'd like you to meet Jennifer
Stern, our bartender."
They finished
their Rolling Rocks then ordered another.
Jennifer was back behind the bar tending the several customers
that had shown up in the past few minutes.
Brent explained that most of these people would stop in for a quick
drink after work, and then go home for supper and to change if they planned
to go out again. In an hour, Brent predicted, this place would
be empty. Two hours after that
it would be packed. If he liked
to go dancing, the only local choice was the pre--packaged nightclub in
the lounge of the Holiday Inn on the East end of town.
There was no place in Warrenton to see a live band. Brent said for that you would have to go to
Jamestown, New York, a thirty-minute drive.
"Well"
Jeff started, "How about something to eat, then back here along the
time it's packed. I don't even
know my way around here yet. It
seems pointless to get lost in a whole 'nother city."
"Alright, let's pound these and head to the."
"Ohh Bre‑ent"
a sing‑songy voice came through the air.
Jeff looked around for the source of the interruption. His gaze settled on a woman with too much eye
make-up coming their way. She
looked to be about thirty years old with short brown hair, about five
foot two, and at least forty pounds overweight.
She caught Brent's eye and immediately gave him an over exaggerated
wave, the big kind that some folks give their mom during their first and
only time on television.
"I see
you Brentsy‑wentsky, no use Hi‑iding" that same sing
song speech. Jeff glanced over
at Brent in time to see him roll his eyes to Heaven in a silent prayer
of deliverance.
"Hi Anne"
Brent said with the resignation of the condemned. She continued over to their table, pulled up
a chair next to Brent, and started talking quickly. Jeff sat there momentarily ignored and very amused ("Brentsy‑Wentsky"?).
"I had
no idea you'd be here tonight" Anne started, "but I'm glad we
got together anyway. So much is
happening. You'll be glad to know
that Brenda finally threw that bum out, and you will never guess who David
is shacking up with, and poor Marcie doesn't even know! Isn't that a gas? Also,
there is some new guy in town, supposed to be a real weirdo, moved all
kinds of top-secret military gear into some old house up highway 59. I have it on good authority that he's a terrorist
that the Government is chasing. They
say he's working with those trouble makers in Somalia", she said
knowingly. Jeff's ears pricked
up. Brent, on the other hand,
was getting redder by the minute.
"OH good
Christ Anne!" Brent said
in exasperation,
"First
of all, Brenda has been throwing 'that bum' out every other week for the
past three years (and that dumb shit Scott keeps going back, Brent thought). And I don't CARE where David wets his weenie."
Brent shot a quick look to Jeff, "and I know for a fact that
the old Markel place has NOT been taken over by terrorists."
Anne became
petulant, and sported a hurt expression on her face. "There are so terrorists in Warrenton, you're just not worldly
enough to know; that's why I keep trying to teach you how the world really
is. And these people at the Markel
place are definitely trouble."
"A moment
ago it was just one guy", Brent challenged.
"Well,
he's just fronting for a pack of others.
I know there have been a lot of hitch-hikers on the road lately."
"Hitch-hiking
Somali terrorists? In Warrenton? Wouldn't they", Brent paused, "Stand
out a little", he shouted.
"Maybe,
who's to say they're not?" Anne
countered.
"And they're
all coming into town?" Brent
demanded.
"Well
actually most of them were leaving town, but they could be his agents,
sent out to cause who knows what destruction."
Brent just made a noise of total incredulity. Jeff on the other hand put his head back and gave way to a deep,
fitful laugh. Anne responded to
the laugh before she thought.
"They
could be terrorists.." Her
voice trailed off. She had never
seen Jeff before, but had just heard third party comments about him. She felt suddenly vulnerable. Jeff
held her with his eyes, wanting to make her squirm just a little more.
Anne looked in those eyes for the briefest moment and lowered her
gaze.
"I.I didn't
realize you had, why didn't you introduce me?" she said weakly.
"Well
then I will," Brent said with satisfaction.
"This is Jeff Hopewell, New engineer at the refinery, my Friend,
and the new tenant of the Markel ESTATE."
Anne said nothing, but turned crimson as her face contorted, trying
to find words out of the faux pas she had just blundered into. Jeff said,
"Anne,
isn't it? I don't know what you
have heard, but believe me, I'm just an engineer at the refinery. My barn is my workshop, that's all. My hobby, such that it is, won't harm so much as a firefly on a
warm summer’s night" ('You liar', he thought). "I would be most interested to hear of how you came on these
ludicrous stories about me, seriously, I have never even been to Somalia."
Brent guffawed loudly. Anne
managed to regain some composure.
"I didn't
mean to imply, I mean just all that.secret equipment and all. I'm really sorry if I offended, but we don't
get many.."
"Many
what?" Jeff insisted.
"Well,
many. many. God look at the time, I really must be running along. I promised a friend I'd meet her twenty minutes
ago. I know you'll understand."
Anne got up and ran for the door.
Brent and Jeff watched as the door shut behind her.
"Lets
go eat" Jeff said. "Us
terrorists work up a powerful hunger scaring dumb people."
* * *
Brent had been
right about Frazier's being packed later on.
They had to park Jeff's Mustang nearly a block from the bar when
they returned from eating pizza. The
tavern Jeff had seen just a few hours earlier, quiet and near empty, was
now so loud he could not hear Brent next to him.
It was standing room only and full of cigarette smoke. Brent bulled through the crowd while Jeff was looking around.
When Jeff turned to tell Brent that he had just spotted Jennifer
the barmaid near the back wall, Brent was gone.
"Well",
Jeff thought, if I can't find him at least I can go talk to Jennifer. He made his way through the crowd towards her.
As he got closer, he recognized the woman sitting with her.
She was Linda Donaldson, his attorney.
He had secretly hoped for a chance to meet Linda outside her office;
now here it was. They were deep
in some excited conversation and were unaware of Jeff next to them for
at least a minute. Jeff tired of waiting to be noticed and tapped
Linda on the shoulder.
"Hi Linda,
remember me?" Jeff asked. Linda turned around and when she saw Jeff,
her eyes widened a little. She
remembered that sudden thrill of wonder she had felt in her office two
months ago. She also remembered
her suspicions. "Hello Mr.
Hopewell. What a surprise",
she had a hint of nervousness in her voice.
Then nonchalantly she added "Is Brent Merroth with you?"
"Well,
he's in here somewhere so I suppose he'll show up.
And please, call me Jeff."
He broke off for a second, found a vacant chair, and pulled himself
up a seat at their table. The
three of them sat there for a moment in awkward silence.
Linda broke the moment and said
"Jeff, I'd like you to meet Jennifer, she's like my best friend. Jennifer this is Jeff, he just started at the
refinery, and has moved into the old Markel place."
"Brent
introduced us earlier. Good to
see you again. Brent buying beer?"
"I assume"
Jeff said. "I didn't know
you guys knew each other." Linda
said "Jen and I have known each other since grade school."
"That's right," Jennifer added.
"Linda and Brent both told me about you, but only in the most
mysterious terms. Brent said you really shot down his super last
week. That true?" Jeff felt his face flush.
"I didn't
shoot him down, too badly, but the man made an assumption he did not have
facts for or understanding of."
Jeff abruptly shut up. This
wasn't ApTech. He was just an
employee. It was proving to be a difficult transition.
Sometimes he thought that he didn't have this plan as well reasoned
out as he imagined.
"I heard
there was a new man at the refinery", she continued, "It's nice
to see new blood come to our little corner of the world, but why on earth
come to Warrenton, especially from a place like San Diego?"
"How do
you know I'm from San Diego?" Jeff
asked, starting to feel a bit annoyed at how his business seemed to be
everyone else's concern.
"Linda
told me" Jennifer responded.
Linda turned
crimson, "well, everyone knows that.
It’s not like I gave anything away." He gave Linda a 'how much have you told them?' look. Linda looked down, embarrassed. He was her client; she shouldn't talk about
him at all, even to her best friend.
Jeff decided not to make an issue of the point. After all, that's what small town America is
famous for: everyone knowing what everyone else is up to.
"It's
true" Jeff said, "I am from San Diego, but not originally. I'm from a town even smaller than Warrenton.
Ever hear of Pinckney, Michigan?"
Neither of them had. Jeff
used to have a T‑shirt that said "WHEREINTHEHELLIS Pinckney,
Michigan" a joke the town pulled on itself, but apparently it was
no joke.
"Are you
planning to stay?" Jennifer's
question had the unmistakable feel of a qualifier. Linda maintained her composure but in her heart she swore she'd
get Jen for this.
"There's
work here" Jeff answered, "and I want a home. If this place is what I want I'll stay, if not.." Just then Brent burst through the crowd carrying
a full pitcher of beer and two glasses.
"Hey‑Oh! I knew you'd find the two hottest chicka's
in the place, so I'm buying!" Brent
set the pitcher and glasses down and went hunting for a chair.
He found one from a table of three guys and pulled it up to the
table opposite Jeff. He sat down and ceremoniously poured both him
and Jeff a beer, handed one to Jeff, and sat back.
"So, what
did I miss?" He said eagerly.
"Not much"
Linda volunteered, "we're just trying to figure out why Jeff moved
here in the first place."
"What's
not to love?" Brent asked
seriously, "eight months of winter a year, no sun in the summer,
mosquitoes, floods and rednecks. This
place is perfect." Jeff chuckled. Jennifer was annoyed,
"If its
sucks so bad why do you stay Mr. hotshot?"
I've have this
BABE to tend too."
"God,
you are such a jerk!" Jennifer
spit back.
"Come
on guys, just enjoy the night."
Linda said. Jeff downed
his beer and reloaded from the pitcher.
Jennifer sipped at her own drink, a Margarita.
Brent was still staring at Jennifer like a petulant six-year-old
when a man from the table Brent had just seized a chair from tapped Brent
hard. The man demanded,
"Give
us our chair back, now." Brent
looked up at this mountain of flab, for this guy was fat, very fat,
"No one
was using it, Pat, what's the problem?"
"It's
OURS, that's what the problem is. Give
it back, dipshit." Brent
stared at the fat man; a trickle of sweat formed near his temple. It was clear that Brent was in a dilemma.
He didn't want to be embarrassed in front of the women, but he
was also afraid of this 'Pat'. Jeff wasn't afraid of him and decided to let
this obese annoyance know it.
"You know",
Jeff started, "We don't want any trouble, but, you see we're talking
to these ladies, four of us, three chairs. And we couldn't help notice that you three gentlemen, with no ladies
of your own, simply didn't need the chair. We figured you wouldn't mind helping us out, so we borrowed one."
"Well
who asked you, jerkweed?" Pat
shot back. Inside Jeff just sighed,
some people, he thought. Brent
pointed to an empty chair at the table next to theirs, a couple sat there.
"You guys
don't need that chair, do you? Why
don't you take that chair, Pat?"
"Cause
I want your chair, dork-face!" Pat
glowered. Jeff had about enough
of this guy. He said to Pat
"Tell
me, are you capable of ending a sentence without utilizing a derogatory
invective?" Pat stopped for
a second,
"What's
that mean, dick-hole?"
"I thought
not" Jeff answered, getting angry.
"You think
you're real smart don't ya? Using
big words and acting important. You
think you're smart, don't ya, asshole?"
"Pat!" Linda interjected, "You're in enough trouble
now. I advise you to just relax
and."
"Don't
high-Bo off to me Miss legal bitch! We
ain't in front of no judge now. And
I don't need to heed ya." Linda
recoiled at his outburst. She
represented his family last year pro bono then dumped them as clients. They were just too mean. Pat turned back to Jeff, "Ya think you’re smart, don't you asshole?"
"Yes,
I think I'm smart", Jeff answered, coming out of his seat to face
this incredibly vulgar man. "Much
smarter than you I'd wager." Jeff
noted that the space around him and Pat had gotten quiet, virtually still,
as other people tuned in to this altercation to see what would happen
next.
Pat glared
at Jeff, not backing down at all. Jeff
said "But if you are set on getting your four chairs again, then
take mine." Jeff lifted his
left leg and put his boot squarely on its seat,
"Just one rule though. Do
not move my foot."
Brent shot
a panicked look at Jennifer. Both
Linda and Jennifer backed their chairs away from the table then stood,
ready to move. Pat took a step
back in surprise, then almost immediately his two buddies were up standing
at his side. Pat was by far the heaviest, three hundred
pounds at least. The other two
probably averaged about one-sixty each.
Pat spoke,
"Yeah? What happens if we move your foot? Asshole. You
think maybe you’re going to be able to do anything 'bout it? I think I'm going to kick your ass, fuck head."
But Pat just stood there. Jeff
realized that Pat's favorite weapon was fear.
He wanted to see fear on Jeff's face before he attacked.
Jeff removed
his light jacket slowly, eyes locked on Pat, to reveal a skintight yellow
T‑shirt underneath, muscles rippling beneath that.
"Then"
Jeff said slowly, "You had better be armed, and you had better be
a whole lot tougher than you pussies look like you are." Linda made a vehement aside to Jeff,
"This
is not in my contract Hopewell; I advise you to drop it. Please." Pat bristled,
he was not used to being stood up to. "You calling me a pussy, asshole?"
"Yes",
Jeff said as his left foot left the chair seat and caught Pat solidly
in the groin. He followed with
a well-placed left hook into Pat's face.
The man on Pat's left lunged forward, but Jeff caught him by the
nape of his shirt and brought his other knee into his mid-section, then
with the fluidity of a martial artist, kept him going forward into the
wall. Pat screamed and fell back to the floor. His friend went head first into the Oak paneling
of Frasier's Tavern and buckled. Jeff
turned to the remaining one of the trio,
"Do you
really want to? Do you want it?"
Jeff's voice was hoarse with anger and rage.
"No man, it's cool, it's cool", the third man said as
he stepped back and started angling for the door.
Jeff did not relax his stance.
Frasier's tavern
went silent. The music stopped
and everyone was turned towards Jeff, staring.
Someone in the crowd let out a soft whistle and said, almost in
a whisper, "The son of a bitch flattened Dunuski, well all right!" A girl giggled. Pat and his friend were still trying to come to their feet; any
thought of retaliation on their part would have to wait for another day. "It's time to go" Brent insisted,
"You have no idea of what you just did, or the enemies you just made."
Brent took hold of Jeff's arm and tried to turn him away from Pat
and towards the table. Jeff's arm felt as if it were carved from stone.
His muscles were tight, and Brent could feel the subtle vibration
of his trembling frame.
"What
enemies," Jeff protested, "Those guys are jerks, and I didn't
even hurt them. They'll be fine
in five minutes."
"Then
we best be gone in four", Brent said as he pulled harder.
Jeff finally
looked at him, but was not quite comprehending why his friend looked so
scared.
"It's
time to go." Brent was vehement. Linda walked up to Jeff and seized his other
arm. Lopez's warning was ringing
in her ears. Now she knew what
he was talking about. She supported
Brent's position.
"It's
time to go. How could you do that? Do you have any idea of what you have just
done? Do you know that man? It is time to go."
"Think
I'll be prosecuted?" Jeff
asked.
"This
is not the place to discuss it." Linda tautly replied.
Jeff allowed
himself to be herded toward the door by Jennifer and Linda, Brent bringing
up the rear. Jeff couldn't resist
one more jab at Pat. He tapped
Pat on the shoulder and said
"You can
have the chair now. I'm done with
it."
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