Duke
It had taken over two hours after I’d spoken with my father for my lawyer to arrive, and another half hour to complete the release process. We headed down the jailhouse steps to street where Mr. Bird had parked his black Lincoln Continental.
“Where’s my bike?” I asked as we approached his front row parking space.
“Your father’s instructions were perfectly clear. I’m to drive you directly to the ranch, where Mr. Hill is waiting to meet us.”
“Fuck that,” I snapped. “I’m not going anywhere without my bike and I’m not going back to that place.”
“Mr. Hill’s instructions were—”
“Fuck my old man’s wishes and fuck you if you think I’m getting into that car.”
“Everything alright?” a voice from behind asked. I turned to see Cutter and the rest of the Burning Saints walking down the stairs, towards us.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“It appears we owe you one for springing us, so if this guy’s hassling you—”
“No, this is my family’s lawyer and I’m just filling him in on the facts.” I said. “Plus, you don’t owe me shit. You had my back in there and I know how to repay a debt.”
“Family lawyer? No shit, man? I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rich kid,” Cutter said with a grin. “But then again, I don’t even know your name.”
“My buddies call me Duke.”
“Pleased as hell to meet you, Duke. I’m Cutter and this is my club, the Burning Saints. You sorta met Zaius already.” The burly redhead nodded. “And these gentlemen are Red Dog, Hacksaw, and that furry mess over there is Warthog.”
“Charmed,” the aptly named Warthog replied.
“Nice to meet y’all and thanks again for helping me out in there. Now, if y’all excuse me, I’ve got to look for my bike,” I said.
“Well, you won’t f…f…f…find it around here,” Pete said, appearing out from behind the wall of Saints.
“How’s that?” Cutter asked.
“The police impound lot is a c…couple of miles up the road on J…J…Jefferson. Your b…b…bikes will be there.”
“Thanks for the tip, Pete,” I said.
“Thanks for s…sticking up for me. N…n…no one’s ever done that for me b…b…before.”
“You wanna hang with us? Maybe we can get you something to eat before we go get our rides.” I said.
“N…no thanks. I g…g…got people around here I can c…c…crash with.”
“You be careful with these people you know, Pete. You understand me? And you go easy with the junk. That stuff’ll kill you, man.” I said.
Pete thanked us again before disappearing into the blackness of the night.
“Mr. Hill, I really must insist…” Mr. Bird squawked, motioning to his casket on wheels.
“And I must insist that you and my father go fuck yourselves, or each other while I go retrieve my bike from of the police impound yard.”
“I like this kid,” I overheard Zaius say to Cutter.
“Say, man. Since we’re all headed the same direction, you may as well stick with us. Who knows what these shit kickers get up to at night around here?” Cutter said.
“I am one of those shit kickers,” I replied with a smile.
“Well, then you’d know,” Cutter said, before adding, “I don’t see a club patch on your kutte. Surprised a guy like you would be a lone wolf.”
“I prefer to keep to myself when I can. Besides, I haven’t been back home long enough to put down any roots. I got out of the army a little over nine months ago, and I’ve been on the road since.”
“You in Nam?” Zaius asked.
“Yes, sir. Twenty Fifth Infantry Division. Second Battalion.”
Zaius let out a low whistle. “Twenty Fifth? You boys saw your fair share of shit.”
“You serve?” I asked.
“My older brother was a Marine. Killed in the Battle of Hue. February of ’68.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Appreciate it,” Zaius said with a nod.
“You fellas from Oregon, huh?” I asked, motioning to Cutter’s patch.
Cutter let out a good-natured laugh. “Shit, man. I dig the way you say OR-uh-GONE.”
I smiled. “Kind of a long way from home ain’t ya?”
“We’ve been on a bit of a road trip ourselves, following the Pink Floyd tour since Maddison.”
“Big music fans?” I asked, a bit taken aback by Cutter’s answer.
He laughed. “Sure, but not that psychedelic shit.”
“Shit. Cutter still listens to Johnny Cash,” Red Dog said.
“Don’t you say a word about Johnny Cash,” Cutter snapped back.
“We’re out here on business,” Zaius said.
Cutter elaborated, “We’ve been working the parking lots, selling acid to hippie kids going to the Dark Side of the Moon show. Atlanta P.D. busted us at the Memorial Coliseum tonight before the show.”
“We’re raising money to open a second chapter on the East Coast and were thinking Atlanta might be the place,” Zaius said.
“But after tonight’s heat, we’re rethinking that plan,” Cutter said.
“Tell you what. If y’all are looking to open shop in Georgia, Savannah is where you want to be.”
“No shit?”
“We’ve got the shipping ports, plenty of gambling action. Police that are friendly to those who are willing to share the love. It’s wide open out there. I’m telling you,” I replied.
“How do you know so much about Savannah?”
“It’s where my family is from, and where I was raised all my life.”
“If your people are there, why are you on the road?” Cutter asked.
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
“Sorry, man. Don’t mean to pry, but like I said, I’m looking for members and you seem like a stand-up guy.”
“I get it. Good people seem harder and harder to come by these days.” I said.
“You headed back to Savannah now?”
“Supposed to be,” I replied. As if on cue, Mr. Bird shouted, “Mr. Hill!” and I turned around to give him one final profanity-laden send off when I saw the most gorgeous creature, I’d seen in my whole entire life walking up the jail house steps.
She was blonde with pinup curves and was dressed like something out of a fashion magazine.
She looked like a goddamned movie star and I was in love with her from the moment I first saw her.
I walked away from both the Burning Saints and Mr. Bird, without so much as a word, directly toward the goddess who was currently ascending toward the building’s entrance.
She was holding a stack of file folders and looked focused as she quickly made her way up the stairs.
“Excuse me, miss,” I said, gently stepping in front of the bombshell beauty. She slipped me like Joe Frazier and continued her strident path upward. I remember having the distinct feeling that if she could have walked directly through me, she would have.
I followed right behind and tried again, “Excuse me, miss. I really don’t mean to be a bother, but—”
“Too late,” she replied without looking at me or breaking stride.
“I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of creep or something—”
“Way too late,” she said, this time pouring on her perfect Georgia drawl.
“It’s just that you look like you work here and I’m trying to find out where I need to go in order to collect my two hundred dollars.”
Finally, the angel stopped, slowly turned, looked directly at me and asked, “Was that a Monopoly joke?”
“Yes, it was,” I said with a smile, hoping my witty charm would gain the affection of this enchantress.
“My boss is waiting for these files and I’m technically off the clock.
Despite leaving a date in order to bring these documents to him, I know he’ll still find a reason to be angry with me once I step foot in his office.
So, although I have absolutely no interest in talking with you, I also really don’t want to go inside that building either.
So, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to use the next minute of my time explaining something to you to serve as my own personal stall tactic. ”
She was dressing me down with just the perfect amount of southern charm and I wanted more. In fact, I wanted this woman to boss me around for the rest of my natural days on earth. For some reason I almost felt like she had the right to, as if we somehow already knew each other, perfectly.
As she continued, I tried my hardest to study every detail about her. If I somehow failed to win this woman’s heart, I wanted to remember everything. If for no other reason than to have a standard of perfection to measure all other women by.
“Your attempt at a Monopoly joke, while well appreciated, was a failure in two ways.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I have older brothers and happen to be an expert at Monopoly, so I was going to point out where your joke went sideways.”
The courthouse is just next door. I wonder if it’s too early to ask this woman to marry me. That would be tricky since I don’t even know her name.
“Excuse me ma’am but could I be so bold as to ask you for your name?”
She sighed before saying, “It’s Grace.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, shaking my head.
“Excuse me?” Not Grace replied.
“Please don’t get me wrong ma’am, Grace is a perfectly fine name and all. Quite beautiful really, but not nearly beautiful enough to describe such a treasure as yourself.”
Not Grace scowled. “I’m a treasure?”
“Indeed, you are. Something rare and beautiful,” I said, turning up all the southern charm I could muster.
“I suppose next you’ll tell me that I’m a diamond?”
“No ma’am,” I stated flatly.
“Oh? Aren’t diamonds the most valuable?”
“A diamond is a lump of coal formed from pressure and time, and that’s not you at all, is it? No, you are a new treasure. A young beauty formed from grit and finesse. You, my darling are a Pearl.”
I backed up a half step and extended my hand, which, to my surprise, she took.
“Pleased to meet you Pearl, my name’s Duke. Please continue,” I said with a slight bow, before reluctantly releasing her hand from mine.
“As…as… I was saying, your Monopoly joke was all wrong,” Pearl continued, clearly a little off guard.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“First of all, you don’t collect two hundred dollars when you get out of jail. You get it when you pass GO. Secondly, making a pass at a woman by admitting you just got out of jail might not be the best way to start.”
“How am I doing now?” I asked.
“Looking like you just got out of jail is strike two.”
“We’re playing by baseball rules, huh? Good. That means I have one last chance before I strike out.”
“I’m afraid being in a motorcycle gang is strike three, Easy Rider.”
“Okay, now it’s time for me to hip you to a couple of things,” I said. “The guys in Easy Rider weren’t in a biker gang and neither am I.”
“Who are those guys over there, then? Your sewing circle?” Pearl pointed to the Burning Saints, all of whom had taken interest in our conversation.
Mr. Bird stood with the passenger door of his Lincoln swung wide open as if there was any way in hell I was going with him.
I didn’t blame him for fearing my father’s wrath by going home empty handed and bloodless.
“I met those guys while temporarily incarcerated due to a police error.”
“A police error?” Pearl asked.
“Yes ma’am. But the sheriff has apologized and I’m free to go about my evening, which I was hoping you would join me in enjoying.”
“The sheriff apologized?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“To you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Sheriff Early?”
“Indeed.”
“Sheriff Don Early?”
I nodded. “The one and the same.”
“Okay, now I know you’re full of malarkey.”
“Malarkey?” I asked, unable to stifle a laugh. “Miss Pearl, I’m sure you are one-hundred percent correct in your assessment of my appearance. But I assure you, the sheriff and I parted ways on the best of terms.”
Pearl stared at me, clearly unconvinced.
I continued. “It’s actually quite a funny story. I’d love to tell you all about it tonight.”
“What?”
“I was saying that I would sincerely like the opportunity to accompany you on an evening about the town.”
“You did hear me say I left a date to bring these files to my boss, right?”
“I did, but the guy sounds like a clod. You’d have more fun with me, I promise.”
“How could you know that Chas is a clod? I didn’t even bring him up.”
“But you’re not denying it. Plus, his name is Chas. That’s a clod name.”
For the first time, I could see Pearl fighting back a smile and I knew I had a shot. I also remember the distinct feeling that we’d met before creeping up again.
“Duke! We’re gonna head out to the impound lot. You comin’?” Cutter called out.
“You go on, I’ll catch up,” I yelled back.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Pearl said.
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Stick around on my account. I’m going inside now, so you should probably leave with your little friends.”
“Oh, they aren’t my friends. Not exactly, anyway. Just some guys I met while enjoying the fine accommodations of your lovely jail.”
“Regardless,” Pearl said. “I really must be going and so should you.” She turned and started back up the stairs, giving me a fantastic view of her ass, and it was without a doubt, the finest backside I’d ever seen.
“Wait, you never answered my question,” I called out to her.
“What question?” she asked without turning around.
“Will you go out with me tonight?”
“Goodnight, Mr. Duke,” she said with a wave before disappearing through the front doors of the building.
“I’m gonna marry that woman,” I said out loud to no one, before double-timing it to catch up with the Burning Saints, ignoring Mr. Bird’s pathetic cries of objection as I started off down the street.