Vincent arrived at the arena early and made his way inside, thankful he’d purchased his ticket the day before. He was amazed at the number of people in attendance. Vincent knew nothing about professional wrestling and even less about women who chose wrestling for a career. He took his seat near ringside and patiently waited for the show to begin.
Nearly half an hour passed before the house lights dimmed. A dapper looking man stepped into the ring holding a microphone and in a booming voice announced the first bout of the evening. Moments later an attractive brunette bounded down the aisle and leaped into the ring. She was followed by another woman with flaming red hair and a stocky build. A referee climbed through the ropes and motioned the women to the center of the ring. After a brief conversation, the women returned to their corners, the bell sounded and the match began.
The women circled each other and locked arms. Vincent was surprised at the level of ferocity they exhibited. They threw each other to the mat, pulled each other’s hair and drew several stern warnings from the referee. After nearly a quarter of an hour of non-stop activity the brunette managed to manuever her opponent onto her back and pinned her for a count of three. The referee raised her hand in victory and the women left the ring. A few moments later two more women took their places in the ring and another match got underway.
The action in the ring was rougher than Vincent had expected. The crowd was yelling and cheering as the women sweated and struggled. There were several more matches, followed by a brief intermission. As the house lights dimmed once again, a tall blonde walked through the crowd toward the ring. She climbed through the ropes and stripped off her robe, revealing her muscular body to the crowd. The name Sheena was embroidered on her robe.Vincent could see how she got her name. Sheena reminded him of the drawings he’d seen depicting gladiatresses ready for battle.
Moments later another woman entered the ring. She appeared to be of Latino decent, shorter than her opponent and not as powerfully built. The name emblazoned on her jacket said El Gato. Vincent wondered how she could possibly survive against such a formidable foe. The match began and it was clear he’d underestimated the smaller woman’s capabilities. Her moves were quick and graceful. She reminded Vincent of a jungle cat pursuing it’s prey. The women battled for nearly fourty minutes before dark-haired El Gato managed to subdue her opponent sufficiently to win the match. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause as she stepped through the ring ropes and disappeared into the dressing room.
The applause subsided temporarily and erupted again as Vincent watched two women walking up the aisle to the ring. One was Lady Brandy Hawke. With her was an attractive blonde woman, built much the same as Brandy. They were definitely crowd favorites, stopping repeatedly as fans approached them, anxious to get an autograph. Their opponents appeared and the crowd booed loudly as they approached. Vincent was beginning to understand Amos’s fascination with Brandy. She and her partner seemed to know exactly what to do to excite the crowd to a fever pitch. Vincent wondered how it would be possible for four women to all wrestle at the same time. His question was soon answered. Only two women were allowed in the ring at a time and could be replaced by their partner if they touched hands. It was an interesting way to conduct a match and from what Vincent could tell, quite common.
Brandy seized her opponent immediately and began to punish her with a series of holds. Growls and gasps of exertion could be heard as the women battled back and forth. Brandy found herself trapped in her opponent’s corner and both women took turns torturing her with painful holds. She finally managed to escape and ran across the ring to tag her partner. The bout continued as all four women alternated in and out of the ring. Brandy and her partner seemed unstoppable. Dripping with sweat and smiling, they raised their hands in victory as one of their opponent’s lay gasping for air on the mat and the other complained loudly to the referee. The roar of the audience was deafening as the women left the ring and returned to their dressing room.
Vincent was impressed. Professional wrestling, though certainly contrived to a degree, was a demanding business. Vincent made his way through the departing crowd, unsure of how to approach Brandy. He decided to wait outside the arena and see if she appeared.
He lit a cigarette and stood waiting as the crowd thinned. Just as he was about to turn and leave, he saw Brandy and her wrestling partner coming toward him. Vincent could hear them talking and laughing. He took a drag on his cigarette and began to speak. Before he could, Brandy walked up to him and stared. “Amos? It’s been a long time! I still haven’t forgotten you stood me up for our dinner date.”
Vincent fidgeted nervously. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. My name’s Vincent.”
“Well, you’ve got a twin then. And your twin never showed up for our dinner date.” Brandy gave him a friendly smile. “I hope you don’t me teasing you. It’s just that we meet a lot of fans who invite us to dinner or out for a drink and then they get nervous and don’t show up.”
The blonde with Brandy nudged her. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. Vincent, this’s my partner and good friend, Christi Evans.”
“I know. I saw your match. You’re both very good. This’s the first time I’ve been to a wrestling show. Can I buy you two some coffee, or maybe dinner? It’ll give me a chance to make up for what my evil twin did to you.” Vincent gave the women a teasing smile.
Brandy shook her head and smiled. “Oh, wow! How could we possibly turn down an invitation as smooth as that? Of course we’ll have dinner with you.”
The women met Vincent at an Italian restaurant not far from the arena. Brandy and Christi were obviously well known there. The waitress that met them at the door called them by name as she led them to a table in a cozy corner of the room. They sat eating and sipping on wine as Brandy and Christi explained the inner workings of the wrestling business. Vincent was fascinated. There was more involved than he imagined. They were finishing their second bottle of wine when Cira, the waitress, informed them it was nearing closing time.
Brandy opened her purse and poked through the contents. “Here’s my card. Give me a call sometime? That’s my production studio. Wrestling’s not a full-time occupation. I produce videos when I’m not in the ring. A girl’s gotta do what she can to survive.”
“I will call you. It was wonderful meeting both of you. Christi, I hope I’ll see you again soon to.” Vincent walked them to their car and watched them drive away. It had been an enjoyable evening, but now he was growing tired and had only a few hours to sleep before leaving for another day’s work.
The next evening Vincent returned home from work, tired and hungry. He stood in the shower, letting the hot water rejuvinate his aching muscles. His thoughts turned to Brandy and their dinner together the night before. Amos was right. She was an amazing woman. Vincent stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself as he walked to the living room. He dialed the number she’d given him and she answered on the second ring. He agreed to meet her later at Pomodoro’s, the restaurant they’d been to the night before.
Vincent arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early. Cila smiled as she seated him and lit the candle on the table. “I’ll bring Brandy to your table when she arrives.” Vincent thanked her and watched her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips. Deep in thought as he stared out the window, Vincent didn’t hear Brandy approach. “You look way to serious!” She smiled and sat down.
“Well hi! I didn’t see you come in.” Vincent’s face softened into a smile. He ordered them caffe corretto and they sat, laughing and talking as the hours passed. Vincent shared stories of his experiences sailing the seas and Brandy told him stories about her wrestling career. She was easy to talk to and her beautiful brown eyes tugged gently at his heart. As closing time arrived, they agreed to meet at the same place for dinner the following night. Brandy warned him she’d be late. “I’ve gotta do a work-out at the gym, but I’ll be here as soon as I finish. Shall we say around 10:00?”
Vincent smiled. “I’ll see you then.” He stood and watched her walk away.
The next evening arrived and Vincent found himself with several hours to kill before meeting Brandy for dinner. He decided to stop at Danny’s for a drink. He entered the lounge and took a seat at the bar. Kelly was busy pouring drinks for several customers. He shouted a greeting to his friend. “Vincenzo! Come y voi?”
“Bene, grazie.” Vincent smiled. His Italian was rusty, but he still retained some knowledge of the
language. Kelly set a drink in front of him. “I didn’t realize you speak Italian.”
Kelly grinned proudly. “Not bad, huh? I’m trying to learn. My girlfriend’s Italian and she thinks it’d be cool if I learned the language. I know a few words real well, but they’re not much good in polite company.”
“You won’t have to worry on my account!” Vincent laughed. “My language gets a little colorful now and then.”
“Hey! I saw ya at the wrestling matches the other night. How’d you like it?”
Vincent glanced up. “You did? Hell! I didn’t see you or I would’ve said hello. It was pretty damn amazing. It’s the first time I’ve seen women’s wrestling. I even met a couple’ve the wrestlers.”
A female voice interrupted the conversation. “Well it’s about time you came in to see me! Can you stay awhile?
Vincent turned and smiled at Tawny. “Sure. I can stay for a little while.” Tawny took his hand and led him to an empty table. “I wondered what happened to you. I haven’t seen you all week!”
“It’s been a busy week. I meant to stop in but there’s been a lot going on.” Vincent was uncomfortable feeling he needed to explain himself. “Anyway, I’m here now. How’ve you been?”
“Okay, I s’pose. Kelly said he saw you at the sports arena a couple’ve nights ago. I didn’t realize you were a wrestling fan.”
“I wasn’t, but I am now. It was an impressive show.”
Tawny frowned. “What is it about women wrestlers? Shit! My friend Amos stood me up one night and went to a wrestling show instead. Maybe I should become a wrestler.”
“It looks like a tough business, but I imagine you might do okay.” Vincent wasn’t sure what else to say.
“I’m a lot tougher than I look and I’m strong. Feel my muscles!” Tawny playfully flexed her arm. Vincent was surprised. She did have muscles. “Not bad, toughie!” Vincent gave her a teasing smile.
Tawny glanced at the clock. “Shit! I’ve got to get on stage. Will I see you later?”
“Not tonight, but I’ll try to stop in tomorrow night.” Vincent gave her a quick kiss and left.
Vincent arrived at Pomodoro’s nearly thirty minutes late. Brandy was sitting at what was considered her table, sipping on a cup of caffe corretto. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it.” She gave him an impish grin. “I’d have been really pissed if you stood me up.”
“Sorry I’m late. I was visiting with a friend.” Vincent gave her a sheepish grin.
“No need to apologize. I’m sure you have things you need to do and people to see.”
They sat feasting on salad and bread sticks as their conversation flowed into the early hours of the morning. Vincent was lost in Brandy’s sensual gaze. It felt as though he’d known her for a long time. He found himself wanting to invite her home with him, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He was sure she’d gotten many such invitations. The thought of her declining his offer was more than he could stand. The restaurant was preparing to close and Vincent walked Brandy to the door. “We’re doing a show over in Milton Sunday afternoon. Can you make it?”
Vincent smiled. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
Brandy smiled. “I’d like that.” She leaned close and gave him a good-night kiss. “I’ll look for you on Sunday!” Vincent watched her drive away and silently cursed himself for not inviting her to his place for a nightcap.
The sound of music roused Vincent from a deep sleep. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying to recall if it was Friday or Saturday. It was Saturday, he decided. He swore loudly when he realized that there was no work scheduled for the day. He’d been so excited to see Brandy he’d forgotten he had two days off.
Vincent sat drinking tea and debating whether to invite Brandy to have breakfast with him. He decided to call her. An hour later they met at a near-by cafe. “Brandy smiled as she slid into the booth. “I’m glad you called. I woke up thinking about you this morning and viola! The phone rang and it was you.”
“Well, I’d like to say I planned it that way, but my magic’s not quite that good.”
Brandy seemed to be in an especially upbeat mood. Vincent wondered if she was always so full of energy first thing in the morning. They finished their breakfast and Brandy prepared to leave. “I’ve gotta go to the gym for awhile. If you’re not busy maybe you’d like to ride along?”
“My day’s wide open. Sure! I’ll tag along.”
They arrived in front of a large building in a run-down section of the city. Several near-by buildings were closed and the windows boarded up. Brandy unlocked an iron gate and led him inside. There were several large rooms, one was empty and unused, another was apparently a dance studio and the room they entered housed a weight machine, weight rack and free weights scattered across the floor. Tumbling mats were stacked against one wall and a heavy bag hung from the ceiling. A large wrestling ring stood in the middle of the room with chairs scattered around it. There were two women in the ring working out together. Vincent recognized them immediately. One was Brandy’s partner, Christi and the other was the muscular blond who’d appeared at the wrestling show.
The women stopped wrestling and leaned across the ropes. Christi smiled as she saw Vincent. “Hey! Nice to see you again. You gonna be our new coach?”
Vincent gave her an embarrassed grin. “I’m not sure how much good I’d be. I think you guys probably know a lot more about wrestling than I do.”
Brandy introduced Vincent to the women. “You already know Christi and this’s Sheena. Oh! And that’s Gina.”
Vincent turned to see an attractive brunette standing behind him. She shook his hand and smiled. “Didn’t I see you at the arena last Wednesday? You were sitting ringside.” She asked.
Brandy interrupted. “Yea, he was there, Gina. Now c’mon. Get changed and get up here. We’ve got a lot of work to do before tomorrow.”
Vincent took a seat near the ring and watched as the women practiced various manuevers and holds. Brandy was clearly in charge of the work-out. She was a facinating mixture of tough and gentle. One minute she was ruthlessly punishing Sheena with a painful hold and the next minute helping her to her feet, offering her words of encouragement. There was an incredibly strong comradery among the women. As morning turned to afternoon, several other women appeared at the gym, some working in the ring and some training on weights and the heavy bag. Vincent was impressed by their toughness, tenacity and resilience. This wasn’t a business for the faint of heart. It was late afternoon before Brandy called a halt to activity in the gym. Leaning against the ropes, panting and sweating, she smiled proudly. “Okay, that’s plenty for today. Let’s shower and get out’ve here.”
A few minutes later Brandy reappeared, looking refreshed and full of energy once again. Vincent smiled. “Would you like to stop for a drink?”
Brandy smiled. “Damn! I’d love to, but we’ve got a meeting with the promoter in an hour. Can I meet you somewhere?”
“How ‘bout Danny’s? You know where it is?”
“Oh yea. That’s the topless place down on 23rd Avenue. Want me to drop you off there?”
Vincent agreed and they left the gym. As Brandy manuevered through afternoon traffic Vincent wondered if there was anything she did in moderation. She drove hard, worked hard and played hard. He was sure that sex with her would be much the same. Not a bad thing. He thought to himself. Not a bad thing at all. They arrived in front of Danny’s and Brandy double parked. Vincent leaned over, kissed her and climbed out of the car, watching her accelerate down the street. He went inside and ordered a drink. Kelly was in an especially talkative mood. Vincent glanced up at the stage. “Tawny’s not working tonight?”
Kelly grinned. “Oh yea, she’s working. She’s on a break. She had to run to the drugstore, but she’ll be back soon. Ya know, she’s sure got a thing for you. She’s been moping around her all afternoon wondering if you were gonna come in.”
“Ya don’t say. She is a sweetheart and I’m fond of her, but I have stuff to do. Besides, it’s hard to keep this old seadog on the porch.”
Vincent felt arms encircle his waist and a female voice whispered in his ear. “Maybe I’ll just build a bigger porch.” Tawny was behind him. “I’m glad you made it in. Gonna stay for awhile?”
Sure. I’ll be here for awhile. A friend of mine’s gonna join me as soon as she finishes her business.”
Tawny’s eyes widened and she frowned slightly. “She?” Before Vincent could respond Tawny turned to leave. “I better get moving. I’m up in a few and I need to change.”
Vincent took another sip of his drink. “I don’t think that went well.” He and Kelly resumed their conversation and Vincent watched Tawny in the mirror. He was on his third drink when the door burst open and Brandy entered, followed closely by Christi, Sheena and Gina. Kelly glanced up and a smile spread across his face. “Whoooeee! There is a god and she’s smile’n on me tonight!”
Vincent glanced at his friend. “I thought you said you had a girlfriend.”
“I do. So do you. She’s up on stage as we speak.” Kelly grinned mischieveously.
Vincent’s response was interrupted as Brandy approached. “Hi! Sorry we’re late. The meeting took longer than it should’ve. Shall we get a table?”
“Sure. What d’you all want to drink?” Vincent gave Kelly the order and joined the women at a table. Tawny was clearly displeased, though she worked to cover her feelings.
Brandy glanced up at the stage and smiled. “I can see why you like it here.”
“That’s Tawny”, Vincent explained. “She’s a good dancer.”
“Yea. And she’s built like a brick shithouse! Do you know her well?” Brandy gave him an impish grin. “We don’t want to cause you any problems.”
“I wouldn’t have invited you if I thought there was gonna be a problem.” Vincent frowned slightly. “I’ve been with her a time or two, but we’re just friends.” Brandy accepted his explanation and the conversation turned to the promoter and their meeting. They were unhappy with the arrangements for their upcoming show. From the tone of the conversation, Vincent got the impression the promoter the women worked for was something of a shyster. They were deeply involved in conversation and Vincent didn’t see Tawny approach until she was standing beside him at the table. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Will I see you after work?”
Vincent looked up. “Uh . . .yea. I suppose so.” The situation made him uncomfortable. “Let me introduce you to my friends. “Tawny, this’s Brandy Hawke. And there’s Christi, Sheena and Gina.”
Brandy smiled. “You look great, and you dance real well. I like your moves. Are you a gymnast?”
Tawny seemed less defensive as Brandy’s friendly nature disarmed her slightly. “I used to be. I don’t work out as much as I did when I was younger. I can’t really afford to join a gym.”
“Well, if you ever want to work out, you’re welcome to use our gym. It’s not fancy, but we’ve got some weight equipment and mats. Maybe Vincent can bring you over sometime.”
“It’s nice of you to offer. Maybe I’ll do that.” Tawny looked at Vincent. “You’d take me over to Brandy’s gym wouldn’t you?”
Before he could answer, Brandy interrupted. “We need to be going. I’ll see you at the show tomorrow won’t I?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Brandy leaned down and kissed him good-by. Vincent watched them leave, purposely avoiding Tawny’s piercing stare. “You and Brandy must be good friends.”
“We are.” Vincent didn’t elaborate and Tawny continued. “You going to watch her wrestle tomorrow?”
“Sure am.” Vincent hesitated for a moment. “Wanna go along?” He was sure she’d refuse, but it seemed like a good idea to at least ask. Much to his surprise, Tawny agreed. “Sure. Why not?” She stood up and smiled. “Gonna stay for my last set?”
Vincent shook his head. “I’d love to, but I’ve got some stuff to do. How ‘bout I meet you here tomorrow and we’ll head on over to Milton.”
Tawny smiled and without a word pulled him close and kissed him passionately. “That was ‘yes’ in case you were wondering. She turned and trotted toward the dressing room.

William slammed the lid down on his tool box, his eyes flashing with rage.
“Fuck you, Jim! Fuck you, fuck this shop....... just fuck it all!”
Jim silently stared at him. William was a good mechanic. An asshole but a good mechanic. His competence was all that kept him from being terminated sooner. William had a history of violent outbursts. Jim glanced down, noticing a wrench on the floor. A mute remnant of the tool-throwing rampage only moments earlier.
“ I really hate to let you go, William, but I just ain’t gonna put up with any more crap. This’s the end of the god damn line. I’ll have your check ready for ya’ by the time you get your tools loaded.”
As he walked away, William hurled a few more obscenities followed by a crude referance to Jim’s mixed ethnic heritage. The other mechanics in the shop stopped working, not sure what would happen next. Jim came to a stop and slowly turned around. Anger blazed in his eyes and he drew a deep breath. He turned and continued walking into the office. William had no idea how close he’d come to a terrible beating. Jim was not a small man. While no longer prone to violence, he had served ten years in prison for manslaughter when he was in his early twenties. What began as a disagreement over money escalated into violence; Jim used too much force to make his point. Maybe that was why Jim had hired William. Despite William’s foul temper and frequent outbursts of anger, Jim wanted to give him a chance. Now the chances were used up. It was time for William to go. He’d been fired from many jobs and there would be many more.
William backed his battered truck into the shop and began throwing his tools in the back. Jim handed him his paycheck and reached out to shake his hand. William scowled , grabbed his check and stuffed it in his shirt. The sound of squealing tires echoed through the shop. Jim shook his head. “There goes a man down the highway to hell.”
William ordered another drink as he fidgeted on his stool. The bartender gave him a stern look and said nothing. He pushed the glass of Jim Beam across the bar. William had been warned twice to keep his mouth shut. Fortunately most of the bar patrons viewed him as a minor irritant. As he sat sullen and inebriated, William spied a man and woman sitting quietly across the room. She was white, her companion black. Racial slurs filled the air. The bartender grabbed William by the shirt. “You’re ass is out’a here!”
William stared out the windshield. The rainfall made it nearly impossible to see the road. Rounding a curve, he blinked his eyes repeatedly and stepped down on the brake pedal. Off to the side of the road lay an upended vehicle. Glass and metal were scattered across the pavement. William parked, grabbed a flashlight and jumped out, staring at the accident site. He shined the light into the wrecked vehicle. There was no one inside. William staggered slightly, struggling to regain his balance. The whiskey had dulled his senses. He crawled through the opening where the windshield had been and surveyed the interior of the car. There were papers and personal belongings scattered everywhere. William pawed through the items looking for something of value he could confiscate. There was nothing except a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He shoved them in his pocket and stood up.
Through the darkness he heard a faint scream. He turned and peered into the night. There it was again. He stumbled down the embankment, falling onto his hands and knees. “Son of a fuck’n bitch! God damn!”
Dripping wet and muddy, William made his way further into the thick underbrush. The screams and moans were more frequent. The voice sounded female. About fifty feet ahead he found her. She was lying on the ground covered with blood, her clothing torn and one shoe missing. Her breathing was shallow and raspy. “Help me! Please help me.”
William’s first impulse was to leave. He was drunk, confused and unsure what to do. He knelt down and peered at the young woman’s face. Blood ran from a jagged cut at the base of her neck. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus. William stared back at her. She was beautiful with a pale complexion, high cheek bones and almond eyes. Her long black hair lay in disheveled strands across her shoulders. Something about her made William want to help but he had no idea what to do. The woman moaned again, obviously in pain. “Take my hand.” Her request was barely audible.
William reached down and took her hand. It was smaller than his, yet her grip was surprisingly strong. He started to speak. He was unable to. He reached for his throat. It felt as if he were drowning. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. There was nothing but silence. Panic flashed in his eyes. He could no longer feel the rain. Blackness settled over him like a cold, wet blanket.
A figure made it’s way up the embankment to the highway. Looking back, she smiled. “What a nice man. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t come along.”
The truck rumbled down the highway into the cold, dark night.
Tomorrow would be a new day.

“Peterson, I don’t give a rats damn if it takes all night! I want those parts ready for shipment tomorrow morning. That a problem?” Harry scowled and motioned toward the door.
“Whatever you say, asshole!” Peterson muttered under his breath. Harry didn’t hear his response.
Harry was tall and slender. His facial features mirrored his temperment. Percing eyes, long nose and thin straight lips that resembled lines drawn on his face. He had a reputation as a successful business man. He also had a reputation as a tyrant.
“Everyone in my office! Now!” Peterson shouted loudly over the din of the shop equipment. The workers filed in, unsure of what to expect. “Gentleman, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Stan stared at the floor. “There ain’t no way I can get a few hours off? It’s my anniversary and I promised the wife we’d go out to dinner. Dammit! She is gonna be highly pissed!.”
Peterson shook his head. “Stan, if there was any way I could cut ya some slack I sure as hell would, but you know Harry, he’d fire us both. I don’t know about you, but I need this job pretty damn bad.”
It was the same for all of them. Ever since the Jorgensenn plant relocated to another state everyone in town had suffered finacially. Everyone, that is, except Harry. He seized the opportunity to amass a fortune. His holdings included the machine shop, harware store, grocery store and countless houses lost to foreclosure. Each of Harry’s acquisitions led to more resentment. He rented out the houses and soon earned a reputation as a ruthless landlord. Evictions were common and he rarely, if ever, provided necessary repairs until forced to do so by the city inspector.
Morning arrived and the exhausted crew rolled crates of parts to the loading dock. Harry arrived and parked near the rear entrance. He stopped, peering intently at the stacks of crates. “God dammit!” He screeched. “Why the hell aren’t these stacked in a single row?”
Peterson appeared in the doorway, a bewildered expression on his face. “The first row’s for shipment to Charleston, the second goes to Pittsburgh. I figured it’d be easier to load if they were seperate.”
I don’t give a fuck what you thought! Get someone out here to line ‘em up in one stack. Next time do it right the first time.” Harry disappeared into the building and slammed his office door. The phone was ringing as he settled in his chair. He answered with a polite demeanor. Harry had two modes. A polite mode reserved for customers and suppliers. He was courteous and genteel. “Yes sir, we’ll have those parts on their way to you in an hour and you’ll have them by tomorrow.”
Harry dialed the phone and without a greeting, launched into a tirade. “Where the hell is your god damn truck? Jesus! You told me I’d get a pick-up first thing this morning. Do you know what time it is?” The response he heard was unsatisfactory. “If I don’t see a truck in the yard in the next hour I’m gonna sue your sorry ass. Got that?”
He slammed the receiver onto the phone cradle and relit his soggy cigar. Spittle ran down his chin and dripped onto the desk. The sound of a truck pulling into the loading dock caught his attention and Harry hurried out to supervise the loading of the crates. The crane operator swung the boom over the dock and lowered the rigging. Two men wrapped chains around a crate and gave the signal to raise the load.
“Wait a god damn minute!” Harry yelled, waving his arms in the air. “What’re you morons gonna do, load this one crate at a time? Get those slings under the whole stack. Jesus! Get this truck loaded!”
Peterson intervened. “Harry, if we pick up that much weight we’re gonna overload the crane sure as hell!”
Harry’s face was flushed with anger. “Did you hear what I said? Now get busy!”
Peterson turned away with an expression of disgust and resignation. The crew slid the slings under the entire stack of crates. Karl, the crane operator shook his head and refused to move. Harry screamed at him, insisting he pick up the load. Karl jumped from the crane cab to the ground and angrily approached. He was a powerfully-built man, his leathery face scrunched in rage. “You fucking idiot! There ain’t no way I’m gonna lift that load. The god damn hoist brake won’t hold and I damn sure ain’t gonna risk someone gettin’ killed!”
Harry stepped back slightly. “You will if I tell ya to! Now get busy!”
Karl grabbed Harry by the shirt. “Do it yourself, you frigg’n piss ant. I quit!” He turned and walked away. Harry hurried after him.
“You can’t quit, you moron! You can’t quit! Your ass is fired!” Karl didn’t bother with a response. Harry screamed at Peterson, insisting he operate the crane. Peterson gingerly feathered the controls, lifting the load onto the truck. With a sudden snap the rigging broke and crates flew in all directions. Two fell onto Harry’s new Cadillac. “You fucking idiot. Look what you’ve done now! God damn!” Harry was livid. “Get off that god damn crane! You’re fired!”
“That bastard’s gonna get his one of these days!” Peterson mumbled.
Harry screamed at the crew members standing on the dock. “One of you get into that god damn crane and get this fucking mess cleaned up. I want this truck loaded by the time I get back from lunch!”
He angrily walked away and entered the diner near-by. The lunch waitress glanced up as he seated himself at the counter. Without a word, she poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of him.
“Gonna have your usual?” She asked, with no hint of friendliness. He grunted a response, she wrote his order and handed it to the cook.
Harry perused the newspaper, scanning the headlines as he waited impatiently for his meal. The diner was full. Lunch customers came and went. Harry glanced up and scowled at the waitress. “Where the hell is my god damn lunch?”
“You’ll get it when the cook sends it out.” She leaned across the counter. “You can always go on over to the Branding Iron. I’m sure they’d be real happy to see ya!”
Harry continued to read the newspaper as he chewed his sandwich. Suddenly he felt a pain in his stomach. He grimaced slightly. The pain passed, but then returned, more intense than before. Harry hurried toward the bathroom, realizing if he didn’t he’d surely soil his trousers. He burst into a stall and seated himself on the toilet. He was alone and it was fortunate. The stench was nearly unbearable.
Nearly an hour had passed before the waitress realized Harry was no where to be seen. “That no-count son-of-a-bitch stiffed me for the bill. God dammit!” She entered the rest room certain he’d exited through the window. Harry lay face down on the bathroom floor. The waitress screamed loudly and ran out the door.
Within minutes a sherrif’s deputy arrived, examined the scene and summoned the medical examiner. Due to the mysterious nature of Harry’s demise, the coroner concluded an autopsy should be performed. A lengthy examination of the body yielded no conclusive cause of death. There was a perplexed expression on the examiner’s face. All of Harry’s internal organs were missing. Despite that, there was no sign of invasive wounds. Nothing indicated what had become of the missing organs? There was no logical explanation.
The phone rang and the coroner answered. It was the sherriff inquiring about the cause of death.
“I don’t know what to tell you!” The coroner insisted. ”I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s . . . . well . . . . . it seems he just shit himself to death.”
There was a long pause. The sherriff finally responded. “Well . . .I suppose it’s a fitting end for an asshole like Harry.”

Vincent watched as the train pulled away from the depot and slowly disappeared. It felt good to be back. He needed some time by the ocean. He’d been gone too long and it was good to be home. A hand on his shoulder jarred him from his reverie. “Jesus! You startled the hell out’ve me!”
Andrew stood next to him, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you, my friend. I didn’t intend to frighten you. Well, maybe slightly.”
Vincent scowled. “I hope you’re not here to lead me on another excursion to my past. I’m not in the mood.” With that he turned and walked away.
“Nothing of the sort. I simply want you to meet someone.”
Andrew and Vincent walked silently up the path to the cabin by the sea. There on the porch sat a man with long hair and a beard. Vincent stopped abruptly and stared. It was as if he were seeing himself. The man sitting on his porch could be his twin. Vincent turned to Andrew. “Another mystical puzzle, I assume?”
“Of sorts. Vincent, I’d like you to meet Amos. I am his spirit guide as well as yours. You and Amos have much in common aside from your physical similarities.” Andrew smiled, pleased with his ability to understate the obvious.
Vincent built a fire in the stove as Amos and Andrew sat talking at the rustic table in the center of the room. The aroma of fresh perked coffee wafted through the cabin as Amos and Vincent reminisced about their past experiences. They were drifters, renegades of a sort and healers in their own ways. During their travels they had touched many lives and had many fond memories of days gone by.
“I have few regrets in my life”, Amos recounted, his eyes misty with emotion. “More than anything, I wish I’d had the time to know a woman named Brandy.” He shared his memories of her with Vincent.
Andrew interrupted. “This is the connection you two share. Vincent, you will one day meet Brandy, but it will be complicated by your relationship with another woman. Who you ultimately choose to be with will alter many future events.”
Vincent frowned. “So who should I choose?”
Andrew was silent. He drew a deep breath and finally spoke. “It is not for me to say. I am simply a conduit through which events flow. I can provide direction, but life’s highway is yours to construct as you see fit.
The hours slipped by and darkness had long since settled on the cabin. Andrew glanced at the clock on the wall and gestured to Amos. “It is time for us to be moving on, my friend. We have a train to catch.”
The constant drumbeat of rain falling on the cabin’s roof roused Vincent from a sound sleep. He retrieved a cigarette from a crumpled pack. Odd shaped smoke rings floated through the air as he lay remembering the conversation from the night before. There must have been a reason for Andrew’s insistence that he get to know Amos. His life did parallel Amos’s in many respects and they looked enough alike to be twins. Still, Andrew’s insistence remained a mystery. It was a mystery that would have to wait. There were fish waiting in the bay for Vincent to catch.
As the afternoon sun slowly slipped lower in the western sky, Vincent peered out on the horizon. An afternoon of fishing had netted nothing and he was growing hungry. There was little to do but return to the cabin and forage thorugh the galley for something to eat.
After a simple dinner of roasted vegetables and flat bread, Vincent wandered back down to the shore and sat watching the moon come up over the water as he contemplated his next destination. There was plenty of work up in Washington. He considered the possibilities as he lay staring up at the stars and slowly drifted off to sleep. The familiar sound of a long, lonesome train whistle sounded in the distance. Vincent found himself standing on the boarding platform in front of the depot. He was no longer a stranger on the Hitchcock Railway. As the sleek, black locomotive and the string of seven rail cars slowly pulled into view Vincent reached down and picked up his seabag, anxious to unravel the mystery that lay somewhere in his future.
The shrill whistle of the teapot echoed through the kitchen. Vincent poured steaming water into a cup and stood patiently waiting for his morning tea to steep. He seated himself on the window sill and looked down at the street below. The fresh scent of a recent rainstorm hung in the air. Vincent watched as the city began it’s day. People were hurrying to their destinations and the sounds of traffic filled the air. He silently wished he were out at sea. Being in a noisy city wasn’t his preference, but it would have to do for now. Wherever he stowed his seabag he considered home, and for now, home was here.
Vincent parked his battered truck in front of a dingy building and went inside. There were men seated along the wall and several others stood in front of a long counter. Vincent took his place in line and waited. As he approached the counter, a burly man with thinning hair and a cigar clenched tightly in his teeth nodded to him. “Got your card?” He growled.
Vincent presented his union card and signed the book. “Been many call-outs today?”
“Yup. So far it’s been a busy day, but if you don’t make it out today check back in tomorrow.”
An hour passed before Vincent heard his name called. He picked up his dispatch papers and walked out of the building. He arrived at the docks and checked in. The morning passed quickly and lunch time arrived. Vincent followed a group of workers down the block to a nearby diner. As he entered, he noticed a poster in the window advertising an upcoming professional wrestling show. Prominantly displayed was a picture of an attractive but tough looking woman by the name of Lady Brandy Hawke. Vincent was astounded. It was the woman Amos had spoken of. He could understand Amos’s infatuation with her. There was something about her eyes and smile that mysteriously attracted him.
The week passed rapidly and Vincent was anxious to explore the city. He walked the rain-soaked sidewalks, stopping to peruse the items displayed in pawn shop windows. It was as if he was surveying the remnants of broken lives. As he reached the end of the block, bright lights and gaudy signage of a topless lounge caught his attention and he entered. Music blared from the speakers on the walls and Vincent hesitated for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lights. He made his way to the bar, sat down and ordered a drink.
Vincent stared at the mirror behind the bar, watching the reflection of the dancer on stage. She was beautiful. Her long, auburn hair swirled as she tossed her head from side to side. Vincent watched with fascination as she bent her body into all manner of positions. Her tanned and toned body seemed to be made of putty. The bartender watched Vincent peering into the mirror and smiled. “She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?”
“I’d say so! I’m sure as hell glad no one expects me to do that.” Vincent smiled as he pictured himself trying to duplicate her moves.
The bartender laughed. “Me either. But then we’re not plumbed right for that line of work anyway. Probably just as well. I’m Kelly. I don’t recognize you. This your first time in?”
Vincent shook Kelly’s hand. “How are ya, Kelly? I’m Vincent. Yea, I’m new here. Just got into town a few days ago.”
“Nice to meet ya, Vincent. You’ll like it here. The dancers are the main draw, Tawny especially. She’s got more guys lusting after her than Cole’s got pills.”
“Did you say Tawny?” Vincent was incredulous. He turned around and stared at the stage. It was the woman Amos had spoken about. Vincent was beginning to understand the dilemna Amos referred to.
Kelly and Vincent continued their conversation, Vincent sharing stories of his travels with his new friend. A sultry, female voice interrupted the discussion. “Hello Amos. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.” The woman threw her arms around him and hugged him. Kelly looked perplexed.
“Uh . . .hi! I think you’re mistaking me for someone else. My name’s Vincent.”
Kelly recovered his composure quickly. “Vincent, this’s Tawny. She’s our number one dancer.”
Tawny peered intently at Vincent. “This is just strange! You look exactly like someone I used to know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” She turned to leave and Vincent caught her arm. “Wait! Aren’t you going to at least tell me more about the man I remind you of?”
Tawny cocked her head and smiled. “It’s just amazing. You look just like my friend, but your
accent’s different. I can’t quite place it. Where are you from?”
“I was born and raised in Biloxi, but I’ve been gone from there for a long time. I spent time in the Caribbean Islands. That’s where my accent comes from. Join me for a drink and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“H’mmm. Anything? That’s a lot to offer a girl.” Tawny smiled as she led Vincent to a table. “I just can’t get my head around how much you remind me of my friend, Amos. From what you say, it sounds like you’re a travelling man.”
Vincent grinned. “You could say that. Mostly I work as a merchant seaman. For now I’m working on the docks. I don’t like to be far away from the ocean.” Their conversation continued as he told her stories of his adventures in foreign ports and some of the people he’d met along the way. The night passed quickly and before they knew it closing time was upon them. Tawny reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “You want to come over to my place? I’d like to know more about you.”
“I’d like that to.” Vincent followed her out the door.
Tawny’s apartment was small, but comfortable. She led him inside, slipped out of her coat and motioned to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable while I make us something to drink. You like coffee or tea?”
“Tea if you’ve got it”, Vincent responded.
“Did you say tea?” Tawny stared at Vincent. “This is so weird! Amos drank tea when he was here.”
Vincent noticed a stack of compact disks next to a sound system on the wall. “Mind if I take a look at your music collection?”
“Go ahead. Pick out something you like to listen to.”
Tawny’s collection was a mix of classic rock, some fusion and blues. Vincent chose several albums and inserted them in the player. He silently hoped Tawny would let him stay the night. His attraction to her was growing as the night progressed. Vincent stretched out on the couch and Tawny reappeared carrying two cups of tea. She set the cups down and stared at Vincent. “Are there any other surprises waiting for me?”
Vincent gave her a puzzled look. “Surprises?”
“The music you chose. It’s almost the same as Amos listened to. He liked fusion music and blues. In fact he played some for me a few times. He was never without his mouth harp.”
“You mean like this?” Vincent pulled out a cloth bag and handed it to her. “I always carry mine with me.”
“Oh shit! If that’s a harmonica in that bag I’m gonna faint.” Tawny pulled it open and looked inside. “I don’t believe it!”
Vincent smiled. “Now promise you won’t faint. My doctoring skills aren’t much good.”
“I feel like I’ve wandered into some kind of twilight zone or something. You’re so much like Amos I can’t believe it.” Tawny moved closer to Vincent and he put his arm around her.
Tawny looked up at Vincent. “I’m sorry. You must be getting tired of hearing about someone you don’t even know.”
“I don’t mind. After all, I could be his evil cosmic twin.” Vincent faked an evil grin.
“Oh yea, right. Whoever you are, you don’t seem the evil type to me.” Tawny put her arms around Vincent’s neck, pulled him close and kissed him. He could feel her warm body pressing against his and sensations of arousal washed over him. Tawny slowly unbuttoned his shirt and Vincent felt her soft hands caress his skin. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating and the sensations her touch ignited were magical. Vincent slid his hands under her shirt and explored her body. His fingers found her stiffening nipples and he slowly played with each of them. Tawny moaned quietly as they continued to kiss and fondle each other. Tawny took Vincent’s hand and led him to her bedroom. They undressed in the moonlight and lay wrapped tightly in each other’s loving embrace.
Tawny’s breathing grew rapid as she kissed Vincent’s neck and slowly stroked his erect cock. She straddled his torso, her gorgeous breasts within range of his lips. Vincent eagerly sucked and licked each of them as his hands massaged her taut ass cheeks. He could feel her hot pussy pressing against his skin as he continued to nibble and kiss her erect nipples. Tawny’s moans of pleasure grew louder as flames of passion licked her body.
Vincent rolled her over and his pulsing member teased the opening of her quivering snatch. Tawny guided his shaft into her, moaning louder as he slowly penetrated her. Vincent felt her walls close around his cock as he pulled back and penetrated her again. Tawny buried her fingers in Vincent’s long hair and tugged. “Oh, baby. Don’t tease me. Give it to me! Oh god! I want you!”
Tawny’s legs encircled Vincent’s body and her hips thrust upward to meet his powerful thrusts. The pace of their movements quickened as their bodies moved with an erotic rhythm. Tawny screamed
with ecstacy as she neared climax. Vincent drove his cock into her, moaning and gasping as he felt himself close to release. Their moans and gasps filled the air as they thrashed on the bed, beads of sweat forming on their bodies. “Oh! Oh! Baby, I’m gonna come!”
Tawny’s body shuddered as her hips quivered uncontrollably. Moments later Vincent unleashed his load into her, gasping loudly as his love juice filled her to overflowing. “Oh! Oh, God! Oh!” Vincent’s body relaxed as hecollapsed onto his lover and rolled onto his side, pullling Tawny over with him. “You, my sweet, are fantastic.”
Vincent awoke to the sound of Tawny’s heavy breathing. He rolled over and smiled at her. She was lying next to him, stroking herself with a dildo. “Want a little help?” He teased.
“God, baby, I’m sorry. I woke up so horny I couldn’t stand it and I didn’t want to wake you.”
Vincent pulled her on top of him. “I’ve got something better than what’s in your hand.”
Tawny smiled wickedly. “You sure you can handle me? I may not let up on you.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Vincent grinned as he positioned himself beneath her and felt his member penetrating her moist pussy. Tawny gasped as she pumped her hips, her cunt swallowing the length of his shaft. Vincent massaged her breasts as he thrust his hips upward to meet her. Tawny’s fingers gripped his waist as she rode him like a bareback stallion. She licked her lips and moaned loudly, pumping at an ever-quickening pace. Her muscles tightened as she came closer to orgasm. “Oh! Oh God! I’m gonna come!” Vincent arched his hips, driving deep into her as waves of pleasure consumed her body.
Tawny fell forward, her face buried in Vincent’s chest. He held her by her hair and began to pump his hips again. She squealed with pleasure as her hips thrust in rhythm with his. “Jesus, baby! God, that feels good!”
Vincent continued at a rapid pace, thrusting himself into her with powerful upward strokes. Tawny gasped and moaned, begging him to give her more. Her ravenous appetite for sex seemed insatiable. Vincent could feel himself nearing ejaculation as he continued to thrash beneath Tawny’s body. Unable to hold back any longer, Vincent’s love juice spurted deep into her. “Oh! Oh, baby, don’t stop!”
Unable to continue, Vincent rolled Tawny over and rammed the dildo into her hungry pussy. He worked the toy in and out, plunging it deep into her and pulling it out with a slow, deliberate movement. Tawny squealed and screamed. “Faster, baby! Give it to me faster!” Vincent complied, pumping the toy at a furious pace. Tawny screamed loudly as she exploded with a powerful orgasm, thrusting her body upward, nearly dumping Vincent on the floor. She was stronger than Vincent realized. He continued to ram the toy into her, as she squealed and gasped. “No more, baby. I can’t take any more.”
“Really? And you were worried about me being able to handle you.” Vincent smiled and lowered his head to her chest, gently kissing her breasts. “Are you sure you’ve had enough?”
“Yes! God, yes! That was fantastic.” Tawny’s face mirrored her contentment. Her eyes closed, as Vincent kissed her mouth. Vincent rolled over and wrapped his arms around his lover as they gently fell asleep once again.
Tawny’s steady gaze met Vincent as he slowly raised his eyes. He yawned, stretched, pulled her close and gave her a passionate kiss. “Been awake long?” He asked with a smile.
“Not long. I was watching you sleep and wondering what you were dreaming about. Is Andrew a good friend?”
Vincent stared at her for a moment. “Andrew?” He hesitated, unsure how to explain Andrew, or if he even wanted to. “Yea, Andrew’s someone I travelled with. One of many friends I met along my way.”
Tawny seemed satisfied with the explanation and bounded out of bed. “I’m starving and I’ll bet you are to. I’ll fix us something to eat.”
Vincent watched as she pulled on an oversize shirt and disappeared into the kitchen. He lit a cigarette and slowly dressed, contemplating the rest of his day. Part of him wanted to spend another night with Tawny and part of him knew he should go. After a leisurely meal together, Vincent pulled on his coat and prepared to leave.
“Will I see you later?” Tawny asked, with a noticeable pout.
“Probably not tonight, sweet one. I’ve got an early day tomorrow and there’s some stuff I need to take care of yet tonight. When you least expect it, you’ll see me again. Count on it!” Vincent kissed her good-by and left.
Monday morning greeted Vincent with clouds and a pouring rain. After a breakfast of sweet tea and cigarettes, Vincent left for work. The day passed rapidly. There were mountains of freight to move and Vincent continued working without a lunch break. By the end of his shift, Vincent was starving and exhausted. He stopped for dinner at the diner near the docks. As he left he stopped to check the poster in the window advertising the upcoming wrestling show. It was scheduled for Wednesday night. Vincent decided to go. He was unsure what to expect, but it was the other half of the equation that had been presented to him by Amos and Andrew.
Tawny was gentle on Vincent’s mind as he finished work Tuesday night. He decided to go and see her after dinner. Vincent showered, devoured his dinner and left for the club. Tawny was on stage when he arrived. He took a seat at the bar . “Hey Vince! How ya doin’ tonight? Gonna have a shot of Myers?” Vincent was surprised that Kelly would remember his name, not to mention what he drank. “Howdy, Kelly. Mix the Myers with some Ginger Ale. Gotta go a little light tonight so I can make it to work tomorrow.”
Tawny noticed Vincent at the bar and smiled. He and Kelly shared small talk as Tawny finished her set and joined them. She gave Vincent a hug and seated herself next to him. “I was hoping I’d see you tonight!”
“I just couldn’t stay away!” Vincent teased. “Not that I was trying to.” Kelly moved down the bar as Tawny and Vincent sat talking together. Tawny glanced at the clock and frowned. “Dammit! My break’s over already. Are you gonna stay for awhile?”
“I’d love to, but I’m really beat. I’ll be back though, you can count on it.”
“Tomorrow night?” Tawny hoped he’d say yes.
Vincent shook his head. “I don’t think I can make it then. I’ve got something I need to do. I’ll see you before the end of the week for sure.” He gave her a kiss good-by and left.
Tawny was on Vincent’s mind as he lay in bed smoking his last cigarette of the day. Vincent considered changing his plans and going to see Tawny again the next evening, but he decided against it. A promise was a promise and he had given his word to both Andrew and Amos. They were counting on him and Vincent was determined to follow the mystery to it’s conclusion, satisfactory, or not.

A delivery truck rumbled by. Half drunk and hungry, Scotty cursed himself for not parking closer to the club. It had been a busy night and his shirt was still damp with sweat. He accelerated onto the freeway and fished in his pocket for a cigarette. The pack was empty. Son of a bitch! I need a god damn cigarette! He tuned in the late-night jazz show and turned up the volume. A half hour later he stumbled up the porch stairs, nearly losing his balance as he fumbled for the key to the door.
Scotty filled a dirty cup with stale coffee and shoved it in the microwave. He checked his voice mail while he waited for the coffee to heat. “Hey Scotty! It’s Lou. Gimme a call. God dammit, don’t shine me on. Call me!”
Piss on him! He’ll get paid when I’ve got the god damn money. Scotty scowled and stumbled, tripping over a pair of dirty trousers on the floor. Seated at the organ, he riffed through some chords, trying to capture the tune that had been haunting him for a week. The notes were elusive. He swore loudly and tried again. Sunlight streamed through the window. Tired and frustrated, Scotty made his way to bed.
It was mid-afternoon when Scotty awoke to another dreary day. He stared at the ceiling, blowing smoke rings into the air. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Damn! I’m gonna be late sure as shit!
Scotty pawed through the dirty laundry heaped on the couch and retrieved a shirt.
“You mean this is all you got?” Jerry scowled. “Dammit Scotty! God dammit! You promised me all the material by tomorrow. How the hell you gonna do five arrangements between now and then?”
“Fuck you, Jerry. I been jammed up. You want the god damn arrangements done, do ‘em yourself.”
Scotty slammed the door and walked down the alley. Jerry was right. Normally he’d do the arrangements in less than a week. There was something wrong. Every time he started to work on an arrangement his mind wandered and he’d hear that same haunting tune. He was sure he’d heard it before, but it was impossible to determine when or where. Music was in his head constantly. It had been since he was young. Scotty played piano before he started school and had his own blues band by the time he turned fifteen. He scored cover arrangements and wrote most of the music for the bands he played with. Now, it seemed, his talent was coming to an end. It was as if part of his brain had short-circuited.
Scotty watched traffic creep past the window. Salty’s Diner had been his sanctuary for years. He was there when Helen took their son and left. It was where he came after his father’s funeral. Salty sauntered over to the table and sat down.
“Hey Scotty.” Salty was a giant of a man, old and grizzled. He’d given Scotty his first job. Over the years their friendship had deepened. Salty was a stabilizing influence in Scotty’s life after his father died.
“Looks like you’re have’n a down day.”
“Aw, it ain’t no biggee, Salty.” Scotty wanted to explain but he didn’t know where to begin.
Salty peered intently at his young friend. “Ya know what you need? A day at the amusement park. Your dad used to do that when things was weigh’n heavy on him.”
Scotty peered intently at his friend. “I just might do that. ”He left the diner feeling better. Salty had a way of doing that. He always seemed to know what to suggest and most of his suggestions worked.
The next day Scotty was in the crowd when the gates to the amusement park opened. The smells of cotton candy, buffalo wings and greasy hamburgers filled the air. Scotty found a spot of grass near one of the rides and stretched out on the ground. A steady stream of people wandered by. Scotty loved it there. Amid all the chaos of the carnival was a soothing rhythm that worked for him. It had worked for his father. Scotty stood up and made his way to the games lining the midway. One of the game barkers spotted him in the crowd. “Hey hey! it’s your lucky day! C’mon mister, give it a try. Three balls for a buck. You’re a winner. I just know ya are!”
Scotty smiled and handed the barker a dollar. He squinted at the metal milk bottles stacked on a crate and threw the first ball. The bottles flew in all directions.
“Hey! We got a winner, folks. Think you can double your luck?”
Scotty let fly with the second ball. Again he was successful. It may have been a fluke, he wasn’t sure. He threw the last ball and again the bottles scattered. Scotty was feeling much better. He carried a large, stuffed bear as he walked up the midway toward the parking lot. Women who passed him smiled and Scotty pondered the appeal of stuffed animals. He unlocked the van door and sat behind the wheel. A strange sensation enveloped him as he sensed his father’s presence in the vehicle with him. He shivered slightly and slowly drove away.
The Longhorn featured all-night jam sessions on Sunday nights. Scotty looked forward to them. He never knew which musicians might drop in and the club was always packed with patrons. Tonight was no exception. There were enough musicians in the house to keep music playing well past closing time.
Shortly after midnight a slender, young man with long, flowing hair took the stage carrying a battered guitar case. He opened it and gently picked up his instrument, cradling it like a newborn child. Something about the way the musician handled his guitar reminded Scotty of his father. The young musician introduced himself to the band. His name was Stevie and he was from nowhere in particular, just passing through. His shyness belied his ability. His music was like molten metal, fiery liquid flowing freely in the atmosphere. Scotty’s music blended seemlessly with Stevie’s and the band added dimension to the hauntingly soulful music.
Stevie turned to Scotty . “I think this next tune is really yours.” The bar was quiet as the music flowed like thick, warm syrup. Scotty was astounded. It was the song he’d heard playing in his head for days. Scotty and the band joined in as the bar’s patrons sat and listened. No one danced. They were hypnotized. Stevie and Scotty shared solo after solo, the intensity of the music echoing off the walls. At the conclusion of the tune Stevie leaned over and whispered. “It was your father’s song. He never had a chance to play it.”
The young musician returned his instrument to it’s case and disappeared into the crowd. The barroom slowly disappeared. Scotty felt a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome home son. You been gone way too long.”