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Second Entry


>>“What’s your name?” she asked the angelic man.
>>They were sitting inside a diner about three blocks away from where she had almost been raped. They sat at the counter facing the main entrance door, but near the side door.
>>“Reyn,” he answered.
>>“Is that it?”
>>Reyn looked at her with perplexed amusement. “What more were you hoping for?”
>>Her eyes widened as she apologized. “No! No, no… I didn’t mean…” She stopped, smiled and laughed at the flustered mistakes she was making. Reyn was beautiful to look at. Looking into his deep blue eyes made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And even after fighting with that dirty man, Reyn still smelled of vanilla and home cooking.
>>Reyn smiled: perfect teeth. “What’s the matter?” He asked like a man who was used to this kind of behavior.
>>She blushed. “Nothing. I was just wondering what your last name was, err, is.”
>>Reyn smiled again. The smile made her heart speed up. Here was this man who had just faced down a knife and he was calmer than calm! She couldn’t help but be attracted to him!
>>“My last name is Witticker,” Reyn responded.
>>She waited for Reyn to say something more to her. Then she waited a bit longer. Reyn took a bite out of his sandwich and drank from his cup of water: no straw or ice. He didn't seem to notice that she was waiting.
>>“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?” she finally asked.
>>“Sure,” Reyn said, taking another bite of his sandwich.
>>A sharp pain shot up her throat and the feelings of longing went away as quickly as they’d come. Reyn was rude.
>>“I’m not rude,” Reyn explained. She was taken aback. How had he known what she was thinking?
>>“And I can’t read your mind, either,” he explained further.
>>Her heart jumped into her throat once again.
>>“I know who you are,” Reyn said. “Your name is Chelsea. We used to go to school together.”
>>Chelsea stopped breathing. “We did?” she asked. “I don’t remember you, though.”
>>Reyn smiled. Part of it was to her, but most of it was to himself. “No,” he sigh-laughed. “You wouldn’t. I look a lot different now and I’ve been gone for the past few years.”
>>Chelsea turned her head to the side, interested to hear more. “Where did you go?” she asked.
>>“I really would rather not talk about it,” he answered. He didn’t sound rude at all now; he sounded distant and sad.
>>Chelsea’s heart swelled with pity as she imagined Reyn going through something so terrible that he didn’t want to even talk about it.
>>The bell above the main entry jingled and three police officers walked through the door. >>Chelsea looked at them for a moment and then turned back to talk to Reyn.
>>But Reyn was no longer there.
>>The side door latched closed as she found the note Reyn had left.
>>It read:
>>>>>>>>>>“Stay away from dark alleys and try not to travel alone at night.
>>>>>>>>>>>Your friend,
>>>>>>>>>>>Reyn Witticker

***
>>Sayge Germain sat at the back of the church listening to Father James give his sermon on peaceful resolutions.
>>He scoffed and the idea. Peaceful resolutions to problems were a great thing, but they didn’t ever seem to work. Three tours in Iraq and the $25,000,000 reward in the bank were proof enough to him that peaceful solutions never worked.
>>Even the Lord Jesus Christ had a temper, he thought to himself; he liked to throw tables around when money changers were in his church. And the church didn’t seem to mind when I donated over half the reward to them. Blood money pays the same as pussy pacifist money.
>>Sayge stood with the rest of the congregation and joined hands with the little old lady to his left as they prayed The Lord’s Prayer together. The prayer always made him feel a little better about himself and about life.
>>If the Lord has a plan, then maybe I must be part of it.
***
>>The young girl looked up at the blond man and noticed he wasn’t saying the words to the prayer. He only stared straight forward like he was staring into forever. She felt his hand begin to tighten around hers and she wriggled her fingers. His grip immediately relaxed. But, throughout the rest of the prayer, she could feel his arm trembling.
>>“For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, oh Lord, now and forever…”
>>“Amen,” said the congregation.
>>As they sat down, the young girl looked up at the blond man. He was sweating. Beads began to drip down his nose.
>>The blond man reached inside his jacket and pulled out a red cloth and wiped his face.
>>“Are you okay?” the young girl whispered.
>>The blond man looked down at her with dazzling blue eyes. He smiled the most pleasant smile she’d ever seen in her life. “Yes,” he whispered back. “Thank you for asking, little one.”
The mother put her arm around her child and pulled her closer. Reyn could hear her whispering to her child:
>>“What have I told you about talking to strangers.”
>>Reyn looked at his boots: perfectly shined black leather, steel toe, United States Marine Corps standard issue. Sister Emily would be very proud of his boots.
>>Not talking to strangers is a great thing to teach you children, Reyn thought to himself. The only problem is, that they never learn how that way.
***
>>“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” Father James led his parish. “The mass is now ended. Let us go in peace to Love and serve the Lord.”
>>“Amen,” the congregation dutifully answered.
>>Charles had sat in the first row. He’d never been more anxious in church in his whole life. The sermon had been short ironically, and, even more ironically, on the topic of the importance of peaceful resolutions. Charles had let a laugh escape his lips accidentally when he’d heard Father James begin talking.
>>Charles walked into the sacristy while Father James was instructing the alter servers on how to properly wash the Eucharistic wares.
>>“Come in, Charles!” Father James said. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll give you a ride home.” Looking at the man in his priest adornments, Charles would never have thought that underneath it all was a young, fit person with the skills of an experienced cage fighter. Father James always smiled so pleasantly and spoke so calmly.
>>“Actually, Father, I was wondering if I might be able to speak to you in private after you’ve finished up here.”
>>Father James looked surprised but happy. “Not a problem at all, Charles.” Then to the servers. “You can all go now. I’ll take care of the rest of this. I want to speak with Charles alone.”
>>“Bye bye, Father James!” the servers each called as they left.
>>Charles watched them leave, thinking about the time back when he was young and innocent enough to be an altar server.
>>“What’s on your mind, Charles?” Father James asked.
>>“I just wanted to ask why you went through so much trouble last night? I mean, taking me back and talking to me this morning on the way to church and even going out of your way to bring me to church even after you saw what I was like last night. I mean… why are you a bouncer?”
>>Father James sat down in the chair near the back of the room and folded his hands. “For your first question, I helped you because I hope that you’re one of my hundred thousand. And as far as the bouncer job, well, I hope to get more towards my hundred thousand.”
>>“Hundred thousand?”
>>Father James’ eyes grew large. “Never mind that, Charles. It’s something between God and I.” He stood up and brushed his pant legs off. “Come on, then. Lets get you back to that bar and get your car so you can go to work tomorrow.”
***
>>“Brother Sayge!” Reyn yelled across the parking lot as he trotted over to his friend’s car. Sayge drove a very old car. The rust was peeling the metal right off the fenders and the wheel wells.
>Sayge smiled pleasantly and offered his hand to shake.
>“I haven’t seen you at the last three meetings,” Reyn said, taking Sayge’s hand.
They both waved at Father James as he drove past with a young man in the passenger seat.
Sayge looked back at Reyn and shook his head. “Has it been three months already since I attended a meeting? I’ve been so busy doing two different jobs… I can hardly keep up with what day it is let alone what kinds of meetings I have to go to. I’m sorry, Reyn, I just…”
>>Reyn’s eyes went distant again as he seemed to stare over Sayge’s shoulder. Then Reyn snapped his attention to Sayge. His voice sounded concerned, but sincere: “Sayge… Is everything okay?”
>>Sayge took a step deeper into his open car door, edging towards sitting down. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “Yes, Reyn. I just haven’t been able to get to a meeting in awhile is all.”
Reyn nodded as though listening to someone else. “Sayge, Brother, why don’t you and I go out for a cup of coffee and we’ll talk about what’s going on.”
>>Sayge sat in his car and slammed the door. His tires squealed slightly as he backed out of his parking spot and squealed very loudly as he pulled away from the church.
>>“Go with God, Brother Sayge.”
>>“Reyn!” It was Brother Toby, the council treasurer.
>>“Yes, Brother Toby, how can I help you?”
>>“Well, I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow’s meeting at the Knights of Columbus hall. I was thinking that…”
>>Reyn did his best to pay attention to what Brother Toby had to say, but his thoughts kept circling back to Sayge and how he’d reacted. Sayge was a great person, but a troubled man. He had never been willing to talk about his experiences during the war.
>>“That sounds great, Toby,” Reyn said after his fellow knight finished speaking. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then?” He shook Brother Toby’s hand and walked towards his own car.
***
>>“So do you just work at the bar on the weekends then?” Charles asked, making small talk as Father James drove him to the bar to pick up his car.
>>“Yeah,” Father James answered looking over his shoulder as he changed lanes. “I work there almost every weekend. They pay me sixty dollars plus tips every night I work. So I just give the cash directly to the church. I don’t need it.”
>>“Huh,” Charles said, looking out the window as they drove down the high way. “I still have a hard time seeing you as the violent type.”
>>Father James’ eyes became more distant than usual. “You have no idea…” Even his voice sounded far away.
>>Suddenly Charles became more anxious than he’d ever felt in his life. His heart started pounding in his chest and the only thing he could think about was getting out of the car. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife and kept if in his fist just in case.
>>Having seen Charles reaching in his pocket and pulling something out, Father James sighed.
>>“Put it away, Charles,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I was just remembering some things from my past.”
>>Charles relaxed a little, but did not put the knife away. Father James didn’t seem fazed by it.
>>“Like what?” Charles asked.
>>“Huh?” Father James said, snapping back to reality again.
>>“Remembering stuff like what?”
>>Father James smiled and tapped the steering wheel. “Nothing. Just some stuff from before I became a priest.”
>>“You mean like when you were in the Navy?”
>>Father James shot Charles a glance out the side of his eye. “How did you know I was in the Navy?”
>>“I looked on line for your name last night after I got home. I guess I was just interested to find out what kind of person would be a priest and a bouncer. You came up under a lot of articles. You used to play drums for your ship’s drum band. You even performed for dignitaries and stuff.”
>>Father James laughed and smacked the steering wheel as he remembered the funny memories. “Yes. I was a member of the ‘Drums of Fire’ taiko drum band when I was stationed in Japan. We played everywhere and anywhere the ship went.”
>>“Yeah, you even played for fifteen hundred people once, it said.”
Father James smiled to himself. “Yes I did. I had a good time, then, too. I always liked public performing. Rather it be public speaking or playing music, I just liked being in front of an audience. So I guess it’s no surprise that I became a priest.”
>>“Actually, the thing that surprised me most of all was finding out that you used to be married.”
>>Father James shot Charles a full-on stare. His eyes were glassed over and his face went pale.
Charles had to grab the wheel to keep them from hitting the median. “Father! Pay attention to the road, man!”
>>Father James snapped back into reality and stared at the road. Charles could see how hard his heart was pounding by the size of the priest’s jugular veins.
>>“Are you okay, Father?” Charles asked.
>>“I’m okay, Charles. It was just a surprise to my system is all.”
>>“Well, what hap…”
>>“I’d really rather not talk about it, Charles.”
>>The rest of the car ride was silent. Father James only whispered good bye when Charles left the car.
***
>>Sayge wiped the sweat from his forehead as he continued to punch, jab, and kick the plastic martial arts dummy. His basement smelled damp and there was water trickling down the walls. This was the environment he preferred to train in.
>>Sweat glistened over the USMC tattooed on his left shoulder. Above the solid black USMC tattoo was a blood red tattoo saying HEAVY MACHINE GUNNER. On his right arm was a tattoo of a tiger guarding the crucifix of Jesus Christ.
>>The dummy had seen its better days. Just last week it had still had a nose, eyes, and ears. Now there was nothing but holes where these things used to be. Sayge had to buy a new dummy every month.
>>Wearing nothing but a white tank top and a pair of grey shorts, Sayge tore the dummy apart for over an hour a day. From the moment he started his egg timer, he didn’t stop punching, jabbing, kicking, gouging, or elbowing until the timer said he was done. When he needed a rest, he danced in circles around the dummy.
>>After his hour of fighting the dummy, Sayge would lift weights for another hour. Then after that, he would run on his treadmill for an hour. Once that was done, he would shower and eat a heavy meal of tuna fish, eggs, and three apples.
>>Today, after his work out, Sayge went upstairs to start the routine I have just described to you. As he walked through the kitchen towards the shower, he noticed that he had a new message on his answering machine. He clicked the play button and listened:
>>“Hello, Brother Sayge. This is Brother Reyn. Just calling to remind you that we are, in fact, having a meeting tomorrow night at seven p.m. I hope to see you there. Vivat Jesus, Brother!”
Sayge deleted the message and pulled a gallon of milk out of the fridge. Drinking directly from the jug, Sayge downed over half the contents before taking a breath. Wiping his mouth, he put the rest of the milk back in the refrigerator.
>>“I won’t be there, Brother Reyn,” Sayge said, walking towards the shower. “I’ve got two jobs. I told you that. I’m not going to a meeting when I’ve got to go to work.”
***
>>“Everybody freeze!”
>>The bank went silent as five different men in all different corners of the room pulled out guns.
The manager inched towards the silent alarm.
>>“Don’t think about it, pal!” a sixth gunner said, shoving his pistol into the manager’s back. >>“The security systems are all turned off anyway! So it won’t do you any good!”
>>“How…?” the manager turned to see George, his most trusted employee, wearing a bullet proof vest and pointing the sixth gun at him.
>>“Maybe you should have given me that raise, Walter,” George said, smiling from ear to ear.
>>Just as the hammer was falling towards the strike on George’s pistol, a knife caught in the between the two, preventing the shot from being fired.
>>In his surprise, George dropped his gun.
>Everyone looked in the direction from which the knife had come. At the very end of the desk, they saw a blond-haired man with dazzling blue eyes.
>>All guns were now trained on him.
>>“Let these people go,” Reyn said.
>>“And just what are you going to do about it?” George asked, retrieving his gun and pulling the knife away from the hammer.
>>Reyn pushed the seventh hidden gunner on the floor from behind the desk: unconscious.
>>“Everybody on the floor!” George screamed, pointing his gun at Reyn. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt that doesn’t need to! And that includes you, Hero!”
>>Everyone dropped to the floor and covered their heads. Everyone, that is, except Reyn.
>>“Let these people go,” Reyn repeated, raising one side of his face in a half-smile. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
>>“Grease him!”
>>“Hail Mary!…” Reyn threw two more knives at the gun men to his left and right. The blades stuck into their firing hands and they toppled to the floor, holding their hands in agony. “…full of grace…” Reyn close lined a gunman coming up behind him. “…the lord is with thee…” Reyn caught the man’s gun as he was falling. “…blessed art thou amongst women…” Reyn threw the gun across the room, ricocheting it off the forehead of another gunman, knocking him unconscious. Reyn began to run forward and vaulted over the desk. “…and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus…” He twisted the gun out of George’s hand. “…Holy Mary, mother of God…” Reyn spun George so that the final gunman’s bullets would be absorbed by George’s bullet proof vest. “…pray for us sinners…” Reyn fired a shot into the man’s left leg. “…now…” Another shot into the man’s right leg. The man fell to the ground, curling into a ball. “…and at the hour of our death.” Reyn dropped the unconscious George to the ground. None of the bullets had gone through the vest, but the pain still caused George to pass out. “Amen.”
>>The manager picked himself up and rushed to Reyn’s side. “Thank you so mu…”
>>“Call the police,” Reyn said. “I’ll tie them up. You make sure all these people are okay.”
>>“But what about…”
>>“I won’t be here when the police show up. Don’t turn on the video cameras until I leave.”
>>“But how…”
>>“Just do what I say!” Reyn shouted. “You can thank God later!”

Holy Heroes

First Entry:

HOLY HEROES

>>He was drunk again.
>>The blur of vodka and whiskey clouded his thoughts while sharpening his sensitivity to lights and music.
>>The most radiant of all these lights was the blond dancing alone in the middle of the bar room dance floor.
>>With his drink spilling tiny droplets of delectable dry alcohol on the floor, he staggered towards this remarkable revelation of radiance. Pushing up against her posterior, he began to grind against her hips along with the beat of the song.
>>At first she smiled and grinded back. Her hips thrust back against his pelvis while he touched the sides of her slim, succulent waist.
>>More of his drink sloshed over the edge of his cup. Taking a drink, he finished it off and set the glass down on the near table. Upon his return to the lady, the song was over and she no longer wanted to dance.
>>Being in no mood to stop dancing, however, he grabbed her hips and held her in place while he humped her to the hum of the new harmony.
>>She struggled to get away from him, trying to push his hands off her, but she couldn’t make him move. Finally, she turned around and slapped him across the face.
>>All her radiance disappeared and suddenly all he saw was red. Raising his fist he threw the punch.
>>Just then, a hand grabbed hold of his hurling fist and twisted his wrist until he fell to the ground. Feeling fiery pain frothing and boiling the blood in his arm, his cheek smacked against the cold hard tile. With his world still spinning from the alcohol, he opened his mouth and released a vile explosion of bile all over the floor.
>>Barely conscious of his efforts, he swung his free elbow up towards his attacker and found it quickly detained and just as painfully bound behind his back.
Amidst all the commotion and the sound of his own breath, he could no longer hear the sound of the music, nor the cries from the crowd that surrounded both he and the bouncer on his back.
>>“You’re coming with me, son,” the bouncer said from behind. “You’ve had enough to drink, I think.”
>>The bouncer forced him to his feet and, as he walked past the blond he’d nearly thumped, she spit at him and showed him her middle finger.
>>The bouncer led him up the stairs and out the back door of the bar. Releasing him from his grip, the bouncer pushed him gently away. Whirling around, he put his fists up to teach the bouncer.
>>With his fists ready, he peered into a very familiar face.
>>“Father James?” he asked.
>>The bouncer lowered his hands slightly and asked, “Charles? What are you doing here?”

>>Charles took another sip of coffee and shook his head violently in an attempt to clear it. “I still don’t understand what you’re doing as a bouncer, Father.”
>>Father James offered Charles some sugar and smiled. “I come here to protect others from people like you who’ve had a bit too much to drink and think that they’re the lords of the world.”
>>It was 2:00am. The customers were clearing out, waving good-bye to the bartenders and thanking Father James for cooling the situation so well. After Charles had agreed to settle down and only drink coffee for the rest of the night, Father James had let him back in to sit at the bar.
>>Taking another sip of the very strong, very black coffee, Charles licked his lips and tried to steady his swirling, whirling world. “Don’t you think it’s a bit of a violent job for a priest, though?” he finally questioned.
>>The other bartenders stopped their cleaning and wiping and stared at Father James. None of them had known he was a priest. Usually, he just finished up the night, accepted his pay, and left without talking much to anyone about anything. He only ever introduced himself as Jimmy and either quickly walked away from the conversation, or talked strictly about the other person in the conversation. He had always been an amazing listener, but they’d never been able to get him to answer questions about himself before.
>>Father James smiled at Charles and then at everyone else in the room. “Do you think I handled you overly violently, Charles? I mean, considering what you would have done to that woman if I hadn’t stopped you…”
>>Charles hung his head in shame. “I can’t believe I was about to full on punch a woman!” he said. He finished off the last of the coffee in his cup. A waitress quickly came by and filled it up.
>>“Hey, Jimmy,” she asked, walking away from Charles, “are you taking care of him all night, or is he going to leave like the rest of the customers? We’re closing up, you know.”
>>Father James smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, I’ll be driving him home.”
>>Charles waved the idea away, slamming his wrist painfully on the counter. Wincing in pain, he held his wrist and said, “No, don’t worry about it, Father James. I’ll just call a cab.”
Father James laughed. “In this part of town at this time of night? You know you’ll never get a cab. Besides, we live right near each other. I’ll give you a ride home and see you in church tomorrow morning, right?”
>>Charles looked up at Father James with pleading eyes.
>>“After all,” Father James went on, “if God was gracious enough to give you this night of partying and celebrating, the least you can give him is an hour tomorrow morning to thank him for it.”
>>“But I’m leaving my car…”
>>“I’ll come by and pick you up. Then, after church, you and I will come back here and collect your vehicle. Deal?”
>>Charles looked around at the bartenders, hoping that one of them would say something to help him out. But none of them said anything. Finally he looked back at Father James and sighed: “Sure thing, Father. Sure thing.”
***
>>The man flicked his knife in front of her face while he held her against the wall. “Oooohhh,” he sighed, his breath smelling of dead fish, “you’re a pretty one, aren’t you!”
>>She couldn’t scream with his slimy hand stuck in her mouth. All she could do was whimper.
>>“Now, I’m going to start undoing your pants, miss, and you’re just going to keep real quiet or else…” He pressed the knife into her cheek. Searing hot pain burned through her cheek like a dry forest fire as the blade made a small cut.
>>Warm blood began to trickle down her cheek as he removed his hand from her mouth. She licked her lips out of reflex and tasted the bitter taste of oil and mud. The man’s greasy hands quickly undid her jeans and unzipped them. Taking a step back, he pointed the knife at her and said, “Now you take ‘em off!”
>>Salty tears ran down her oil and mud smeared face as she slid the jeans down to her ankles. “Please, God,” she whispered to herself.
>>The man sneered. “God? What’s he ever given to ye? Where’s he now?” The man lunged forward, grabbing her by the hair and spinning her around. He thrust her against the wall of the filthy alley and pressed his crotch against her buttocks. With a gentle push, he let her know how hard he was. “What’s praying ever gotten ya, missy? Did you pray for someone to fuck you in an alley tonight?” The man was chuckling to himself while undid his zipper.
>>She closed her eyes and whispered once again, “God…” She began sobbing uncontrollably as the man held the knife to her throat with one hand, and pulled her hips back towards him with the other. “Please…” she whispered.
>>Just as she felt the man’s head between her legs, she heard someone clear his throat.
Her eyes shot open and she looked at the dark figure who had appeared at the entrance of the alley. The street lights, passing head lights, and the blowing steam from the city sewers made him look like an angel. She couldn’t make out his face, but his bright blond hair was brighter than the sun in the dark alley.
>>“Piss off, asshole,” the man with the knife said, yanking her hair to bring her in front of him. He held the knife to her neck and then towards the man. “This doesn’t concern you.” He licked the side of her face. His saliva felt like acid burning into her skin and she worried about it seeping into the open wound on her cheek.
>>“I would highly recommend that you let her go,” the angelic blond said.
>>“Piss off!” the man shouted, pulling her hair a little harder. “This one’s mine and if you don’ want your scrotum cut, I recommend that you go back the way you came!”
>>The angelic man took a step closer. She could just barely make out the features of his face. He was a young man no more than twenty-five. “If you don’t let her go, I’ll be forced to hurt you. I don’t want to do that, and, believe me, you especially don’t want me to do that.”
>>The man with the knife spat on the ground and threw her to the side. She knocked her head against the alley wall and fell to the ground. In her daze, she was just barely able to concentrate on pulling up her pants while she watched the man with the knife brandishing his blade towards the angelic man.
>>“I said, Piss… O…”
>>“Glory be…” The angelic man struck the knife out of the man’s hand with a fast knife hand to the wrist. “…to the Father…” a punch to the knife man’s head. “…and the Son…” a blow to the knife man’s chest. “… and the holy spirit…” a right to the left shoulder and then a left to the right. “…as it was in the beginning…” the angelic man grabbed hold of the knife man’s left arm, locking his wrist and elbow and he took him to the ground. “…is now…” the angelic man put his knee in the middle of the knife man’s back. “…and ever shall be…” the angelic man put the knife man’s left arm behind his back as though he were about to put cuffs on him. “…world without end…” the right arm was secured in the same manner. Then the angelic man swung a mighty elbow into the back of the knife man’s head, knocking him unconscious. “Amen,” he finished.
>>The angelic man stood up and walked over to her. Kneeling down next to her, he helped her redress herself. “Are you alright?” he asked as he assisted her to her feet.
>>“Yes,” she replied, still stumbling slightly as the angelic man held her by the arm. “I… I guess so.”
>>The angelic man sighed with relief and looked over his shoulder at the motionless knife man’s sleeping body. He man had begun snoring. “I’m happy to hear it. If you could just stay here a moment while I tie him up and make a quick phone call…”
>>She nodded her head. It was the only thing she could think to do.
>>The angelic man removed the knife man’s belt and tied his hands and legs together. Then, dragging the knife man to the end of the alley and placing him upright against a bench, he flipped open a cellular phone and called the police.
>>After closing his phone, the angelic man walked over to her and offered her his hand. “Come,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll be needed when the police get here. I know that man. They’ll know that man. He’s wanted for thirteen charges of rape in this city alone.”
>>She took his hand as he led her away from the knife man and out the other end of the alley just as the sirens became audible.
***
>>The “Tiger” was back again. He came in every night at the same time: fifteen minutes before the end of happy hour.
>>Bernie had never thought to card the guy. He could tell by his face that the “Tiger” was old enough. He might not be much older than twenty five, but Bernie could tell that the kid had seen a lot. His eyes were distant and his walk was sure.
>>He always came in at the same time, sat in the same place, and ordered just one of the exact same cheap beer at half price. Bernie never complained. The guy always left a five dollar tip for a two dollar beer. The most he’d ever said was thank you and that was always just before leaving the bar.
>>As always, “Tiger” was wearing the jacket that had given him his nickname. It was a jean jacket with a picture of a huge tiger embroidered on the back. The collar was made of brown leather and there were two large, solid white crosses embroidered just above the cuff of each arm. His jet black hair was always cut high above his ears and neatly tapered like a Marine’s crew cut.
>>As the Tiger sat down, Bernie poured him an ice cold glass of his usual beer.
Setting the beer in front of his customer, Bernie politely asked, “Anything new happening tonight?”
>>Tiger gave Bernie a pleasant smile, but said nothing. Lifting his glass, Bernie knew that he drank to his health and nodded his thanks.
>>“I said you cheated me!” It was Roy next to the pool tables. He was a regular that came in only every once in awhile, but still a familiar face. Every night he came in, he always brought his posse of bikers in with him. And every night he came in Bernie knew there would be a fight. Tonight Roy and his gang had hit the hard stuff earlier than usual.
>>“Look man,” the stranger said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just hit the balls in the same as you. Just settle down, okay?”
>>Roy started poking the stranger with his pool cue. “I don’t believe you, Hoss! I think you cheated and I’m fixin’ to get my money’s worth outta you!”
>>“Hey Roy!” Bernie shouted as he dried a beer mug. “Why don’t you give the guy a break and leave him alone, okay?”
>>Roy smiled. “A break, huh? Yeah, I think a break is a good idea for this guy. I think I oughta break this pool cue across his face!” All Roy’s men started laughing.
>>Tiger stared, steal faced, as the scene mounted. He continued to sip on his beer while he eyed Roy from across the bar.
>>Roy noticed the intent glare coming from across the bar and shouted: “Boy, you’ve got about five seconds to stop staring at me before I come over there and wipe that look off your face!”
>>Taking another calm sip from his beer, Tiger continued to stare at Roy with an unnerving steely focus.
>>“What’s the matter, Tiger?” Roy said, pushing the stranger away as he walked towards the Tiger. “Cat got your tongue?” Roy’s posse erupted with laughter again.
>>Bernie put the beer mug down: “Now leave him alone, Roy! I don’t want any trouble tonight, you hear? Leave everyone alone or I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
>>“Shut your mouth, old man!” one of Roy’s boys said, leaning over the bar and holding a knife to Bernie’s throat. “Let Roy do his talking!”
>>Roy stood next to the Tiger, slapping his pool cue in his palm slowly and menacingly. Tiger looked up at Roy for a second, shrugged, and took another sip of his beer.
>>“You got something to say to me, Boy?” Roy said.

>>There was no reply. He just took another sip of his beer.
>>Roy slapped the beer out of the Tiger’s hand and repeated himself: “I said, you got something to say to me… Boy!”
>>The Tiger sighed at the sight of his beer dripping down the bar. “Buy me a new beer.”
>>“What did you say to me?” Roy said, getting closer to the Tiger’s face.
>>“Buy me a new beer,” the Tiger said nonchalantly. “You spilled mine all over the bar. The least you can do is buy a man another beer after you’ve spilled it.”
>>“Why, you little smart ass, I’ll…”
>>Tiger interrupted. “I’ll give you ‘til the count of three to buy me a new beer, or else I’m going to have to spank your bottom like your daddy never did.”
>>“Boy! I am at least ten years older than you!”
>>“One.”
>>“You knock that shit off!” Roy pushed the Tiger so hard that he had to catch himself on the nearby wall and right himself in his seat.
>>The posse member holding the knife to Bernie’s throat was getting nervous. He’d never seen anyone stand up to Roy like this. Frankly, neither had Bernie.
>>“Two.”
>>Roy raised his pool cue over his head, ready to strike the Tiger on the head.
>>“Three!”
>>The Tiger grabbed Roy by the balls and twisted them as he stood up. Roy screamed a high-pitched scream that disappeared into a wheeze as the Tiger picked him up by the crotch and threw him across the room.
>>The posse member with the knife slashed at the Tiger. There was a sound of metal scraping against metal as The Tiger blocked with his left forearm. Bernie caught a glimpse of metal mesh under the Tiger’s jacket sleeve.
>>With a quick motion of his leg, Tiger swept the man’s knee out from under him.
>>Two other posse members drew guns.
>>Before their guns were even in plain view, the Tiger had drawn two of his own pistols (Colt 45s colored orange with a Tiger stripe pattern). He shot both the posse members in their firing arms. They dropped their guns as the Tiger rushed forward and pistol whipped them both on the side of the head.
>>The Tiger whirled around and blocked Roy’s blow with his right forearm. The pool cue snapped in half and Roy screamed in horror as the Tiger smashed him across the face with the butt of a pistol.
>>With all members of the posse unconscious or otherwise incpacitated, the Tiger sat back down in his usual spot and said, “Give me another one, Bern.”
>>Bernie let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my God! Thank you so much! You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see that hap…”
>>“Bernie!” the Tiger said gruffly, almost snarling.
>>Bernie took a step back, startled by Tiger’s tone of voice.
>>“Two shots have just been fired, Bernie! Now, if you don’t call the police soon, someone else will. That means I have very little time to finish my beer and it would put me in a really pissy mood if I don't get to have it!”
>>Bernie nodded and poured the Tiger his beer. “It’s on the house,” he said, handing the beer over.
>>“Then this is all your tip.” The Tiger stood up and slammed the entire beer in three gulps. As he walked away, he threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar.

>>He disappeared into the night just as Bernie started hearing sirens.

***