by: Kristy Duke
Stiffly climbing out of The General’s open passenger window, Shawn slowly steadies himself before he silently eyes the well worn rectangle building that lies several feet away. Staring at the old building he is once again confronted by old memories he had thought he had long ago buried away, it all comes fleeting back to him. Focusing on the memories of the times he had spent within the four walls of the small building that lies ahead of him, for the first time, he silently ponders what was it that he had hated about Hazzard so bad. The chores on his father’s farm had been hard and was a never ending part of the farm life he had been born into, yet now after years of life in the fast lane, he has realized that is a part of life. Whether in the city or on the farm. Or had it been the slow paced life that the small farming county had produced that made him crave the fast life of Atlanta? Whatever had been the main factor towards his hatred towards Hazzard that he had been plagued with while growing up in the small town, it all seems meaningless and inaccurate as he stares at the town building. Now he almost finds himself missing life in Hazzard with the rising wish of returning to the life he had so badly hated years ago despite the tugging knowledge that his decision of leaving Hazzard for good years ago was the only decision for him. The slow life of Hazzard would eventually eat away at him as it had so many years ago, but for now, it seems relaxing and almost therapeutic.
Taking a deep breath, Shawn takes a silent step away from Luke’s orange racing car and his cold eyes falls from the building and onto the crowded parking lot that is mostly filled with old and rusty cars and trucks. All except for the black Harley Davidson that is parked near the entrance of the bar and restaurant and the black Lincoln parked partially hidden behind a thick patch of bushes besides the building and off onto the grassy area. Fear and confusion steadily streaks through Shawn’s tense body as his thoughts instantly shoves the past behind and grabs onto the future while he struggles to grab onto the plan that had been built between him and his Atlanta friends. Intense panic grabs a tight hold upon him at recognizing the hidden car as questions steadily rush at him, questions of why they would so boldly change their plans without warning him and what it all means.
“Hey,” an old familiar voice speaks besides him to break the air of silence that had seemed to build around him and Shawn quickly turns his attention away from the hidden vehicle to the direction the voice had came from. For a short moment, shock and surprise fills him at seeing Luke standing besides him wearing a concerned look for Shawn. “You OK, Shawn?” Luke finally asks, his worry apparent in his voice for his long-time friend. Shawn’s surprise quickly subsides as he desperately attempts to shove back the panic and fear that boils within him in attempt to hide his emotion and interest in the hidden car.
Watching Luke approach him from walking around the hood of the car to join him, Shawn takes a deep breath before nodding and answering, “Perfect. I was just reflecting on my past,” he pauses as he follows Luke’s lead to the front door to the old building that stands several feet away, “and the present.” Once more he goes silent as they reach the door and he walks around Luke to walk through the doorway that Luke had opened the door to, to let him in first. Eyeing the crowded bar and restaurant, he turns back to Luke who joins him. Speaking loudly to Luke to be heard over the jukebox, he continues, “It’s kinda funny and ironic all that you miss from your past when you return back to it. In Atlanta, I had given little thought of Hazzard or anyone or anything in Hazzard. But now that I am back, I am seeing everyone and everything I had missed while I had been away. You, Cooter. The Boar’s Nest. Everything I had taken for granted back then. Know what I mean?”
Luke gives Shawn an understanding smile and nod of the head as he eyes the crowded bar as he ushers his old friend to the side of the door while he continues to search for someone or an empty table. “Kinda know what you mean. Though not completely. At war or at training…there was never a day I didn’t think of Bo or Jesse or Daisy or any of them. Not a day went by that I didn’t miss any of them or any of this. This here, in Hazzard, is the life,” he pauses to point around the room and out through the open door as a couple of locals walk in to join the crowd, “I yearned to return to it, dreamed about it. There were days I thought I would never return home to give Bo a hug or take Cooter out for a drink or to help Jesse out on the fields or to enjoy Daisy’s home grown cooking. I assumed I’d get killed before I could tell any of them good bye and if I didn’t get killed, that they would just never allow me to return home. At that time, all
of this just seemed unreal, impossible. And so far away. At the time, war was real. The violence and hatred. Everything there was real. This was just a fairy tale to dream about, wish for, but always unreachable,” once more Luke goes silent as his eyes widen and he points out over the tabled area before beginning to walk in between the crowded tables. Continuing he states, “But anyway. Returning home, after I got past my nightmares and the emotions that war had scarred me with, there was a lot more of Hazzard and home that I had missed that I had realized or thought about. The simple stuff that I had taken for granted before I had left. Stuff I will never take for granted again.”
Luke goes silent as they reach a table back in the shadowy back corner where Cooter sits with partially full glass of beer and two full glasses of beer sitting on both sides of him. “About time y’all showed up. I was beginning to think you took our party elsewhere without telling me,” he grins crazily up at them as they slowly take a seat besides him where the glasses were sat at, “Hope y’all don’t mind, I ordered for you.”
“Perfectly OK, Coot,” Shawn grins taking a large drink from his.
“Anyway Shawn, wasn’t it you who always hated Hazzard?” Luke playfully asks Shawn, dreading the spiel he had just given Shawn on how he had felt while he was away at war. Making himself to feel open and vulnerable to him at allowing his emotions to show as he had. “That’s why you left us, isn’t it?”
Shawn smiles and nods. “So I had thought back then. But heck, what’d I know? I was young and naive, thought the city life was the life for me. Which it was. I would never had made it here in Hazzard, but it don’t mean I didn’t miss out on anything, or any of this,” Shawn says lifting up his glass and motioning towards Cooter and Luke with it before taking a long drink while eyeing the crowd that sits ahead of him. Returning his attention to his table he continues, “Didn’t think anything about Hazzard or anyone in Hazzard until I came across an old photo of us that I had stashed in a box of old baseball cards. A person I work with was asking about my cards I told him about, so I pulled the box out of my attic and there was the photo. After a couple of weeks of returning to the photo time after time and thinking of everything I had left behind, thought it may be nice to return to check up on y’all. Make sure you weren’t in jail or
something.”
“Well,” Cooter says stretching in his chair, speaking up to invite himself into the conversation, feeling left out, “as of now we’re not in jail. But knowing the local law, that may change at any given time.”
Shawn laughs for a long moment before finishing up his glass of beer he had started only minutes ago. “As I’ve said since I had arrived in Hazzard. Nothing ever changes here, does it?” he asks as he eyes Daisy walking towards them with three more glasses of beer in her hands. As she approaches, he sits up in his chair to help her with her handful and smiles up at her, their eyes locking momentarily, “Why thank-you Daisy. First you cook for us at the farm and now you’re waiting on us. You’re a busy woman.”
“Have to stay busy to survive around here, sugar,” she smiles at him as she pats him on the shoulder before walking back towards the bar where she had came from only a minute before.
Silence slowly drowns upon their table as Cooter and Luke turn to their old glasses of beer that remain half full and Shawn’s attention nervously filters across the room, cautiously taking everyone in. After identifying a few people from the past his attention slowly falls upon his fresh beer as exhaustion slowly begins to flow through him, exhaustion fed by the days’ events.
Abruptly, sudden movement towards the bar steals their attention as murmurs of fear and panic spreads across the room as two large men in large khaki coats and heavy sky masks briskly walk between the thin isle between the chairs in the middle of the floor. A few feet away from the bar, they both simultaneously yank out large black hand guns from their large right hand outside pocket, aiming it urgently ahead of them. Reaching the bar, the thinner and smaller of the two stops at the bar while the taller and broader chested masked man races around and behind the bar, gun aimed straight at Daisy who stands frightened at the cash register. Daisy lets out a small cry of fear as the gun man grabs her from behind, hugging her close to him while placing the gun tightly against her temple.
“Daisy,” Luke hisses from his seat as fear rises within him at the sight of his cousin in trouble and he abruptly shoves his chair back.
“I want everyone to stay right where you are. Meaning not to move or to try anything,” the smaller one says as he waves the gun around for everyone to see, “Anyone moves or tries to play hero, the pretty little girl here will have a bullet in her pretty little head. Do as we say and we will walk out of here with no one hurt. The choice is now your’s.”
Behind him, the tall stocky man says something to Daisy who silently nods her head, her blue eyes open widely in fear as she stiffly moves her hand and routinely opens the cash register and it quickly opens. Once more, the man whispers something to Daisy and she nods once again before grabbing a black nylon bag from the smaller man on the other side of the bar. The thick smoky air of The Boar’s Nest is filled heavily with silence of fear as everyone watches Daisy emptying the cash register into the bag.
“We can’t just sit here,” Cooter nervously states as the back door squeaks open and a small round man in a three piece suit walks out with the sheriff.
“No, no, no!” Commissioner J.D. Hogg yells out, his dark eyes bulging in fear and anger as the scene slowly registers to him. Turning to his sheriff, he orders, “Rosco! Don’t just stand there, do something! They’re robbing us!”
“Well ghee ghee,” Rosco stutters as Boss shoves him out front and he nervously goes for his gun, “Y’all freeze!”
The big gun man yanks the bag from Daisy with one hand while shoving the gun deeper in her skin as the sheriff moves forward. “We will do no such thing,” the smaller of the two states, walking to meet the sheriff half way through, “but you will hand me your gun and handcuffs. Otherwise your pretty little waitress will be shot and killed right here and now. In front of everyone.”
“Ghee ghee,” Rosco fearfully stutters as he hands over his gun and handcuffs as he is ordered.
“Rosco! They’re lying! Do something!” Boss shouts at him as the gun man tightly locks one end of the handcuff to Rosco’s hand before dragging him back to Hogg and he tightly grabs Hogg’s beefy wrists and violently shoves him towards Rosco to tightly snap his hand to the other end of the handcuff. “You can’t do this!” Boss gripes before the gun man shoves Rosco and him down onto the floor against the wall.
“Sure we can, and we will,” the gun man smiles as bends down and searches their pockets to grab Hogg’s bill fold and pocket watch from his pockets along with Rosco’s bill fold from his back pocket. “Thanks.” With that, he stands up and walks into the back door of which they had just come out of to quickly begin to search it, throwing things on the floor as he goes through everything.
Out in the bar, Shawn silently watches Daisy, anger rising within him at seeing the gun man’s tight grip upon her and to see her in so much fear and discomfort. Eyeing Luke and Cooter for a moment, Shawn shoves his chair back and it falls to the floor to catch the gun man’s attention who nervously moves from foot to foot for a moment. “You ready to tell her good-bye, hero?” the gun man hisses from behind his mask as Shawn dares to move a couple of steps forward.
“Not a chance. You got your money. Enough is enough,” Shawn states, boldly stepping up to the bar while holding his breath, hoping beyond hope to not to push the gunman too far as he calls his bluff, “plus the law tied up. Take what you came to take, but leave her out of it!”
“No! He can’t take what he wants!” Hogg yells as he attempts to stand up only to be thrown back to the floor by Rosco’s weight, “This is my establishment. I will not be robbed!”
The gun man eyes the law and then Shawn for a long moment before the other gun man runs out with a full nylon bag of goods he had found within the small office. Taking a deep breath, the tall gun man violently shoves Daisy to floor, who yells out in surprise and fear, before turning around to run out from behind the bar. Reaching where Shawn boldly stands the gun man comes to a halt to eye him angrily with dark eyes before he raises his black gun and places it to Shawn’s forehead for a long moment to send Shawn’s heart racing wildly within him. After a long moment of eyeing Shawn threatenly, the gun man removes the gun from Shawn’s forehead to harshly back hand Shawn with the butt of the gun. “That’s what you get for playing the damn hero, punk!” the gunman hisses before running off as Shawn’s hand numbly goes to his temple to feel it to be covered in thick sticky blood as the pain begins to throb in my head.
“Shawn!” Daisy yells after slowly standing up in time to find the two gun men running out together with their bags full of goods and money. She reaches Shawn a moment before Luke and Cooter get to him and catches a clean towel that the bartender throws at her. “Here you go sugar. He got you good.” She pauses as she helps him put the towel to his quickly bruised and cut temple, “Thank-you for saving me like you did…you really put yourself at risk by doing so.”
“That was pretty stupid, Shawn. You heard him…you try something, they’d shoot her! What you do? You go do what they tell you not to do! You trying to get her killed!” Luke angrily yells as he moves over to give Daisy a hug who hugs him back in return while eyeing him angrily for yelling at Shawn.
“But he didn’t,” Daisy finally states, sticking up for her protector.
“Luckily. Damn stupid to go do that with a gun to your head as he did,” Luke throws back at her, before turning back to Shawn, “I’m glad that you called his bluff correctly. You gonna be alright?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a cut,” Shawn snaps, pulling away from Luke, “a thank you would be nice to hear, Luke. I just saved her life! One thing you learn from the city, is, a threat like that is most likely what the gunman plans to do whether or not you comply with the threat.”
Luke silently nods, his thoughts quickly returns to six months ago when he woke up at the hospital to learn of the threats Bo had heard in order for their captors to get what they want from him. Do what they say or else they’ll kill him. Sergeant FBI Agent Mills’ voice reminds him of the same fact that Shawn had just said, that his captor would have killed Bo whether or not he robbed those stores or shot Mills’ partner. Taking a deep breath, Luke turns to Shawn and says, “I am aware of that fact a little too well.” He places a hand upon his shoulder, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little shook up seeing Daisy that close to him and that gun. . .Thank you, Shawn.”
Shawn nods. “Anytime for a pretty thing like Daisy,” a smile reaches his face, turning from Daisy to Cooter and Luke, “now if it were any of you two, that would be a different story.”
“Gee thanks,” Cooter states as he gives Daisy a comforting hug, “I’ll remember th-“
”Somebody get them! I’ve been robbed!” Hogg yells out from the floor in the back of the bar to grab everyone’s attention from Daisy and onto him who once again attempts to stand up, while Rosco’s frozen body on the floor drags him down.
“Guess we should do something to free them up, huh?” Luke states as he takes a couple of steps away from the bar towards Hogg.
“I don’t know. Kinda nice having them tied up like that,” Cooter states, following Luke to leave Shawn and Daisy at the bar to help Rosco and Boss.
***GARRETT DUKE***
Nervously, my right hand automatically makes it’s way to the right side of my neck to send violent chills racing across my body at feeling the thick and jagged scar under my finger tip. Numbly tracing the thick scar that runs down from beneath my right ear, down my neck, and under my chin, my thoughts abruptly switch from the present to the past of the violent attack. Thoughts of being stuck in the small town of Hazzard with nothing to do to thoughts of being entrapped within the dark and narrow alley with a large muscular man carrying a long sharp hunting knife. Staring down at the half empty mug of beer that sits in front of me, vivid scenes begin to replay within me of that nightmarish night in another flashback that continues to plague me years later after the attack. Flashbacks that seem to send me back into that dreaded alley with the attacker who had belonged to an opposing gang and once again fear paralyzes me as it had when I saw him walking into the alley after me. Fear that had given the attacker the advantage and had allowed myself to get beat up and almost killed; fear in knowledge of the cruelty and violence that the attacker was capable of and that I had nothing but my bare hands to defend myself with. If only I had. . .
Sighing heavily, I slowly pull my hand away from my ugly scar as I attempt to shove away the nagging thoughts of what I could have done differently years ago to defend myself. Thoughts that would never undo what had happened three years ago and would only enforce the anger back to myself for the weakness that I had allowed to show that night. The weakness of fear. Shaking my head from the flashbacks and scenes of that night, I slowly grab my mug of beer to numbly glance around the crowded bar, silently taking everything in. Pulling the mug to my mouth, I grunt in surprise and in dull pain as something heavy hits me from behind and I am thrown forward into my table to force me to drop my mug of beer. The thick glass shatters upon the table and cold beer washes down my shirt and into my lap and as the weight lifts from above me, anger quickly explodes within me. Angrily I turn around to find a large man wearing a ski mask being helped up by a smaller man in a ski mask before they both glare at me through the small holes of the mask before walking past my table. Shock and fear grow within me as I watch the two men making their way in between the tables and people abruptly turn quiet in their own fear of the two men.
Reaching the bar, the two men routinely pulls out large evil hand guns from under their khaki coats as they separate from each other, one remains at the bar while the other walks around the bar to where Daisy innocently stands. A hint of worry begins to build within me as the masked man places the hand gun up to Daisy’s head while grabbing her from behind and she lets out a small cry of fear that pierces through the silent room.
“I want everyone to stay right where you are. Meaning not to move or to try anything,” the smaller of the two gun men says who stands near the men that sits on the stools at the bar, waving the gun around so everyone can see. “Anyone moves or tries to play hero, the pretty little girl here will have a bullet in her pretty little head. Do as we say and we will walk out of here with no one hurt. The choice is now your’s.”
Once more the smoky bar goes silent as the gun man behind Daisy whispers something into her ear and she silently nods in understanding before she opens the cash register. A moment later, she grabs a black bag from him and stiffly begins stuffing the money that had been in the cash register into the bag. A routine stick up. Sighing heavily, I sit back in my chair to grab my box of cigarettes from my pocket and anger returns to find the box to be slightly wet from my spilled beer. After wiping it with my hand, I slowly grab a cigarette and my lighter from the box to place the unlit cigarette to my mouth and lighting it with the small flame from the lighter. Inhaling deeply, I place the lighter back into the box and the box back into my pocket before I glance back at the bar just as the back door is loudly thrown open.
“No! No! No!” Commissioner J.D. Hogg yells out as he briskly walks out from the open door, his dark eyes seem to bulge out in fear and anger as he stares at the scene that lies in front of him in horror. Turning to his sheriff who follows him out of the open door and into the smoky bar, he orders, “Rosco! Don’t just stand there, do something! They’re robbing us!”
“Well ghee, ghee,” the sheriff stutters as Boss shoves him out in front of him and he slowly goes for his gun, yanking his gun from his belt, he yells out, “Y’all freeze!”
Feeling the calming effect from the cigarette, I silently watch from my small table near the outside door, I almost begin to feel the scene to become almost comical now that the law is out and involved. Breathing deeply upon my cigarette, I allow my thoughts to once again to wander back in to the past of when I had belonged to my gang in Knoxville. Of the times we had walked into a bar or a store with guns and demanding money, of the fear we had placed upon every face that was in the building. Of the rush of adrenaline that surged through our bodies as we grabbed the money, placing it into bags, while the distant sirens remind us of our time limit. Of the fear that shoved our adrenaline further within us at the sight of the police cars coming into sight as we ran out of the stores and climbed into our escape vehicle and the excitement that always followed when we outran the police.
“We will do no such thing,” the smaller one loudly states to break my thoughts before he quickly walks to meet the sheriff half way into the room, “but you will hand me your gun and handcuffs. Otherwise your pretty little waitress will be shot and killed right here and now. In front of everyone.”
“Ghee, ghee,” Rosco stutters and I fight back the urge to laugh at his reaction while he nervously complies with the gun man.
“Rosco! They’re lying! Do something!” the short fat man behind Rosco shouts, his voice angrily ricocheting off the thin walls of the bar. Fear builds within the fat man’s dark brown eyes as he watches his sheriff being handcuffed and dragged back to him. The fat man attempts to struggle against the gun man only to lose and is violently shoved towards the sheriff and to be handcuffed to the sheriff. You can’t do this!” the small fat man yells out indignantly and I watch as the gun man shoves the two men onto the floor.
“Sure we can and we will,” the gun man seems to smirk at the two as he bends over to search their pockets, grabbing everything he finds and places it into his own black bag. “Thanks,” the gun man states standing back in and stiffly walks into Hogg’s back office.
Abruptly the loud noise of a chair scratching the wooden floor draws my attention away from the local law to find Luke’s friend shoving over his chair to stand up at a table a few feet to the side of the bar; on the opposite side of the room from me. “You ready to tell her good-bye, hero?” the gun man nervously states from behind Daisy who shifts Daisy over to stand in between him and Shawn.
“Not a chance. You got your money. Enough is enough,” Shawn states, eyeing Cooter and Luke a moment before stepping up to the side of the bar, “plus the law tied up. Take what you came to take, but leave her out of it!”
“No! He can’t take what he wants!” Hogg abruptly yells out from across the room, trying to stand up only to be thrown back to the floor by the sheriff’s weight. “This is my establishment. I will not be robbed!”
Once again, my thoughts flash back to the past with my time with my gang back in Knoxville, of the fun we all had together before I had been forced to move to Hazzard. Only to send sadness and regret ringing within me at leaving Knoxville and my gang; of trading my gang and fun for the dull life of Hazzard. Looking back at the bar towards the taller gun man, a small smile forms upon my face as a plan slowly begins to form within me. Taking a deep breath, I watch Shawn and the gun man for a moment, making sure Shawn has his full attention, I shove the butt of my cigarette into the metal ash tray before slowly standing up. Taking a last look at the gun man, I slowly walk a few feet to the door that I slowly and silently open before stepping out into the dark night and onto the muddy parking lot. Stepping out of the door way, I slowly glance around the crowded parking lot before I walk past my motorcycle and as I walk several feet, I finally see the get away car. The get away car being a black Lincoln parked partially hidden behind a bush off to the side of the building.
Taking a deep breath, I nervously and boldly begin to walk towards the parked vehicle while attempting to think of a plan of what I am to do once I reach the car or when I meet the gun men face to face. “This is stupid,” I utter silently under my breath and as I reach the thick bush that the car remains hidden behind, I feel the rush of adrenaline powerfully kick in within me, forcing my heart to race rapidly. After a moment of skeptically glancing around the full parking lot, I slowly turn around to spread the bush slightly to peer in between a few branches and a hint of fear sparks within me. Fear at seeing the dark shadowy figure behind the darkly tinted driver’s door. A driver. Sighing heavily, I quickly drop to my knees and quickly crawl from behind the bush to the rear of the parked car and as I get to the bumper an idea slowly forms in my mind as I quickly grab a large and heavy rock that was lying nearby.
Shoving the rock deeply into my coat pocket, I continue to crawl alongside the passenger side of the car while continuing to think through my small idea in attempt of making it work. Taking a short look around through the dark, I slowly kneel up on my knees while wiping the mud from the ground upon my pants. “One, two, three,” I silently count while holding onto the silver handle. Upon reaching three, I silently open the door and as I crawl in, I find the driver to be asleep with his hat over his eyes. “Hey buddy,” I boldly state while tapping him on the shoulder and he yells out in surprise, jumping awake to knock his hat off and into the back seat. He alertly looks over at me with feared wide eyes as I yank the heavy rock out of my pocket. “My advice to you,” I state as I glance over his shoulder at the entrance and back at him, “is if you are to be the get-away driver of a robbery, you shouldn’t fall asleep. Looks to me, to be a good way to get you and your boys caught. And those two gun men that are inside, don’t look to be of the forgiving type.”
“What are -” he starts to say as he pulls out a gun from his waist line, I harshly shove the rock into his forehead and he yells out in pain and blood begins to leak out from under the blood. Lifting the rock, I watch as blood soaks into his fear-filled eyes before I hit him in the head with the rock again. This time his head is shoved back into the window, the window shattering upon contact to force him to grunt momentarily before his eyes roll back and his eye lids close. Lifting the rock, I watch his limp body fall in the seat and I check for a pulse momentarily, finding a soft pulse, I throw the rock out through his open window.
“As I said,” I begin to say as I reach over and yank his head and shoulders in my direction, “I wouldn’t fall asleep while driving the get-away car.“ Placing my fists under his arm pits, I slowly pull him out of the car where I lie him on the ground for a moment to open the back door. With the back door open, I quickly and quietly lift his heavy weight to lie him down on the back seat before placing his Braves hat over his face to hide his swollen head and blood. “Now you may sleep.”
I give the unconscious driver a brief smile before stepping out to close the back seat and passenger door and quickly run around the hood to climb into the driver’s seat before closing the door. Taking another deep breath, I fight back the urge to smoke, while I glance through the bush just in time to find the two masked men running out of the bar with heavy bags. The two men stop momentarily when they don’t find the car parked out front as was instructed before they begin to run in my direction. After a moment of watching them, I slowly rest my head upon the black leather head rest, as if asleep, while thinking of my what my next step will be.
A moment later, the passenger door is thrown open a moment before the door behind me is thrown open and I dare to look over to find the taller of the two men climbing into the seat next to me. “Cliff! You were tol’ to -” he begins to yell at me before he abruptly goes silent in recognition of the change.
“Darrell,” the man behind me states, “whoever that is, it ain’t Cliff. Cliff’s back here.”
The man that had been called Darrell looks behind and then glares at me as he throws the bag at his feet and pulls out his gun to shove it at my nose. I slowly shrug. “Cliff decided to take a little nap,” I finally state, “so I gave him a little help. I tried telling him if he were to be the get-away driver that he shouldn’t fall asleep while y’all were in there robbing the place.” I shrug again while giving him a cold smile, “I guess he didn’t listen to my advice.”
“You think you’re real smart, don’t you?” Darrell asks as he nervously eyes the other guy and then back at me, “Well now what you think you going to do, plowboy?”
“First off, I’m no plowboy. Second of all, you can put that piece of junk away,” I confidently state as I turn on the ignition, “thirdly, unless y’all want to get caught, you better close the doors so we can get outta here before they begin to run out.”
Darrell eyes me harshly with cold blue eyes before he slams the door and his friend behind me does the same thing just as I quickly hit the gas and as I reach the exit way, I see the weak wooden door to the bar being thrown open through the rear view mirror and Luke is the first to run out. “What you think you doing?” Darrell repeats, this time more out of curiosity than anger.
“Well, it’s been over a half year since I was forced to leave my gang in Knoxville to move to this stupid hick town,” I state in hope of earning a little trust by giving my gang info out, “and damn do I miss it. The gang, the rush of the robberies and the get away. Everything. Sitting in there and watching you, just brought everything back to make me miss it even more,” I go silent as I quickly turn onto another dirt road, “And well, no matter how much I want to return to Knoxville, I know I dare not go back. Otherwise my old man will be sending me back to Officer Durbank who’d love to arrest me for the last robbery I helped out with. Ain’t no way I’m going back to jail,” I once more go silent and listen into the silence for a moment, “Anyway, I figured after y’all forced me to spill my beer upon your abrupt entry that you all owe me a little something. That little something is a piece of the action, some of the fun. You may not be my gang nor a gang at all. I don’t know. But it has to be better than nothing.”
I go silent and there is a loud moaning coming from the back seat and I hear the man behind me say something to the guy they called Cliff. “Just like that. You figured you’d bully your way into our operation?” Darrell asks as I shove on the breaks quickly to come to an abrupt halt and I carefully back up into a large woods area. Putting the car into park, I look over at him and nod. “I’m sure you did your gang proud, but the boss would never allow us to bring you into it. He don’t like change any.”
“Nor trust anyone,” the guy in the back seat states and I turn around to find Cliff slowly sitting up, his forehead bloody and swollen. “Darrell’s right. He’d never go for it. But nice try.”
I eye the three of them for a long moment, realizing that I have now hit the dead end of my idea of forcing my way into their group of friends, of joining them in any of their extra activities they may have planned. “Well OK. Can’t say I didn’t try,” I state as I place my hand upon the door handle before looking back at them, “but just for a token of advice. Next time you threaten someone like that, you better follow through. Otherwise this town or no one else is going to believe your threats. They’ll call your bluff.”
Darrell nods. “Yeah maybe. I. . .I just couldn’t bring myself to shoot her,” he stutters in embarrassment of his moment of weakness towards not shooting Daisy, “and then Shawn was stupid enough to stand up to challenge me! Shawn of all people!”
Surprise quickly flows through me at hearing Luke’s old friend’s name being brought up by name by the men who had robbed the place to send questions through me. “Shawn?” I slowly question, “You all know Shawn?”
“Damn it Darrell! Can’t you keep your stupid mouth shut?!” the man in the back yells at Darrell who’s head falls to his chest in shame at his mistake, “Boss ain’t going to be too happy with you when he hears your big mouth led us to trouble, again.” He sighs in exasperation, “Look mister. Wish we could help you, but you’re going to have to return to your own gang or make on up on your own if you want anything to do with that. We’re not looking for any more help and if you knew what was best for you, you’d keep your mouth shut and forget any of this ever happened. If you’re lucky enough, the boss will never find out about this. If he does, you’ll be finding yourself in a mess of trouble. There’s my warning for you.”
“Does it look like I care? Because I don’t. I’m not afraid of your boss or anything he’s capable of nor am I afraid of death. So I say bring it on,” I coldly state as I turn around to eye him in the eye, “and seeing how I have just got introduced to Shawn this afternoon from my cousin, I think I may just go tell my cousin what I just found out.” I shake my head at him, “I’m kinda dreading to see what ol’ Luke will do to poor ol’ Shawn and then y’all when he hears about this. He don’t it too kindly when people hurt or scare his cousin. You know? The one you held at gun point back in there…that pretty little girl that ol’ Darrell couldn’t bring himself to kill. I’m tol’ he knows some wicked moves he learned from the Marines that he’d be willing to use to protect his family with,” I pause for a long moment to allow my exaggerated story to sink in, “There’s my little ol’ warning to you all.”
“You want us to believe that one ol’ guy can stand up to us all just cause I held her at gun point?” Darrell questions and I eye him coldly. “OK,” he finally states, “look, how about you give us your name and number. We can bring it to the boss and let him decide on what to do. If he wants to recruit you or likes you any, you’ll get a call for an interview and so fourth. That’s the best we can do right now.”
I nod and he quickly opens the glove department to come out with a small pad of paper and a blue pen for me to write my name and number on it. Handing it back to him, I say, “Fair enough. Tell him I’ll give him twenty-four hours to think about it. I don’t hear from him, I’ll go and talk to Luke of what I just heard.”
“We’ll tell him,” Darrell briskly responds as he takes the paper and pen away from me, “now if you don’t mind, we have to get back. And we can’t -”
“Drive me back to the Boar’s Nest. Why not?” I sarcastically ask as I throw open the door, “That’s OK, I’d rather walk than drive that junk any farther anyway.” Stepping out of the car I quickly grab my box of cigarettes out and grab one out with my lighter and take a moment to light the end of it. Blowing out the smoke, I firmly state, “I’ll be waiting for the call. Night now.” I give them a cold smile before I slam the door shut and begin to walk back to The Boar’s Nest for my motorcycle.