It will take us about nine hours to get to the club house compound. I'm ready to see the beach again, I hope I can go ride on the beach. Crossing over Lake Ponchartrain on I-10, headed toward the Mississippi line, I'm going to miss New Orleans. There's just something supernatural about it. I wish we had been able to go by the cemetery but understand the need to hurry. Running from a hunter that you don't know, you don't know if the person buying a lottery ticket at the counter, while you wait to buy sour creme and onion chips, is going to pull out a gun or a knife to kill you, or they could follow me to the ladies room and kill me with their bare hands.
"Shooter, talk to me, please. Get me out of my own head, I'm sitting here thinking the worst and we aren't even a mile past the bridge."
"What do you want me to talk about? I'll tell you about the guys I served with, that I still talk to. Boomer, he was an explosive expert and I swear, if he got to blow something up, he had a major hard on. Creeper, he was good at finding the hiding spots for me to shoot from. Bondage, what do you think he did?"
"Was he in charge of the zip ties?" He laughs from his belly.
"Damn, he was our medic in charge of bonding up any wounds, but I don't think I will ever call him that again. Next time I talk to him, he will be known as zip tie from then on. When I first signed up, everyone called me cowboy, since I grew up on a ranch in Texas, but after riffle qualifications, my accuracy and groupings I became Shooter and you know the rest. Speaking of military, what would you think of a courthouse marriage this week? Then I can get you on my insurance and add you as beneficiary to all my policies. We could have a bigger wedding later and it would give you an added layer of respect in the club; the president's daughter, the vice presidents sister, and the sergeant at arms wife."
"Would that not make the target on my back that much bigger?"
"Let's talk to Tank tomorrow, after we have a solid night's sleep."
"Ok, is it the insurance, the safety, or the rush to get in my pants, causing the wedding to be rushed?"
"All three, but mainly the last one."
"You know I still have broken bones? And what happened to waiting to I could pull your hair with both hands?"
"I'm willing to sacrifice if I can legitimately sink into you."
"What kind of 'bigger' weeding are you talking about? Cause I don't want a great big three ring church circus, with tons of people and a poofy dress that looks like a reject prom dress from the 80's."
"What about on the beach?"
"Are you really going cliché? Are you going to wear shoes? And don't roll your eyes at me!"
"Baby, I love you and I don't care how you want to go about it, just as long as it gets done quick!"
"Fair enough. When are we stopping for snacks?"
"How does Biloxi sound? It's not too far till we get there."
"Sounds good. Here, plug my phone in to the auxiliary cord."
"What sugar-coated pop is about to ooze through the speakers, to damage my appreciation of music for the rest of my life?"
"A little dramatic. Shooter, I would like to introduce you to Celtic punk."
"What makes Celtic punk different from the rest of the punk?"
"They play bagpipes on most songs and they are mostly about English oppression."
"Did your pops turn you onto to this?"
"Actually, Grit shared it with me." And he's laughing at me again!
"The old man, that has been around so long he doesn't have a title, complains about his retirement accounts not yielding enough, complains about his butt hurting if the ride is too long, that Grit introduced you to punk?"
"Yes, and the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and The Who. He really does have good taste in music, have you seen his vinyl collection? I think that's what he means when he talks about his retirement fund."
After our shared laugh over Grit's retirement plans, we fall into a very comfortable silence. I look out the window and watch the coast go by and it's not long before we get to Biloxi. The casinos come into view, the gift shop with the shark head; of course, so many of the historic properties are gone. Somethings that Katrina took, can't be replaced. We pull into a gas station and Shooter call my pops and lets him know where we're at and what we're doing. While he makes the call, I turn around to the back seat, where my cat is and check Loki's water and make sure he is comfortable. Maybe he needs some catnip, but I don't know, I don't want to get my cat hooked on drugs. I wait for Shooter to come around and help me out, he lets me use the one crutch to go to the lady's room and when I'm done, he follows behind me up and down the snack aisle picking up everything I want. When we're through, he hands me the bag of food and picks me up for the return trip to the truck. I admit, I'm searching this parking lot, convinced someone is going to jump out from anywhere to get me. Shooter looks at me and leans in to kiss the side of my head. He knows I'm gone past worried and now, I'm just plain scared. I hate being scared of something I can't even see. They have not reached out; they have done nothing to give a clue to who they are.
Back on the road and we'll be crossing into Alabama soon and once we cross over Mobile bay, we can see the USS Alabama, we don't stop of course, maybe after all this is over. I've heard it's haunted. If these people get me, I'm gonna haunt someone, for sure. I love car rides and most of the time, it's fun to let my mind drift and wonder about people we pass. I wonder if any of these people are being hunted by someone or if they are hunting someone. Is there anyone else who understands this feeling, someone out there wants me dead, not because of something I did or even who I am, it's not personal. They want me because someone has something they want and I'm important to that person. How is this fair? The same ol shit about life not being fair.
"Baby!"
"Huh?"
"I've being calling your name about three minutes now. Get out of your head. Tank is ok if we want to marry now, he thinks it won't matter either way, since he's the target. He's putting us both up in his room and he's taking mine. He and greaser are getting the switch done. Church is in about an hour, he's going to call so we can listen in on speaker and if I have anything to say, I can. He said if anyone has a problem with it, he's kicking them out. You've been a part of the club since you were a baby, longer than most of the current members. You've got more time put in and deserve it more than some of them."
I smile at him and thank him. "Tell me more about your guys."
"Robot, he does mostly tech and communication, but he can also manage transportation and get just about anything you want. Our CO was Boss, and that's what he was. He was in charge of all of us, telling us what our objectives were and how he wanted it pulled off. That's all the guys that I still talk to. Maybe we can invite them to wedding? Who knows, they may need some place to land for a bit. You know, my stay with your dad was only supposed to be temporary. I'm glad it lasted longer. Your pops talked to your grandmother and she was starting the paperwork to visit the country today. I don't know how long it takes to process the paperwork, but she's in a hurry, so she'll probably insist it be done immediately. Never get in the way of a determined Irish woman, you've taught me that."
"It's genetic. We have to be stubborn and determined to manage Irish men. Have you not noticed how they can be?"
"Yes, when your pop has a plan, there's no room for anyone to disagree with him. But that's one thing that helps run the club so successfully."
"Yeah, I guess it does." The phone rings and he turns on the speaker phone, we can hear everything going on int the club house. My father speaks up and demands quiet and slowly the noise fades.
"Prophets, most of you know a few weeks ago me daughter was seriously injured in the same car wreck that claimed her mother's life. It was not an accident. The car was hit on the driver's side and direct hit to the passenger side. A man got out and looked in and became very agitated when he saw me daughter, going as far to tell her she was supposed to be dead, not her mother. We don't know who's behind this. the local club had been guarding until last night, someone said they were Greaser and told them they weren't needed anymore, because Shooter and me daughter were leaving to come here tomorrow. Last night she was woke up when she heard something outside the house. You all know she is moving here; you've seen the building going up in the back. They did leave this morning and are on their way here now. My daughter was born into this club and she is marrying Shooter." At the mention of marriage, we hear a lot of high pitched "no's" and "stupid bitch" and a lot of other things, before we hear a gun go off.
"Listen now!! She is moving here as a fully patched member, as my daughter and the sergeant at arms wife, it's a respect she deserves and since she's been in this club longer than any of you besides Greaser and Grit, she's earned it. Anyone caught disrespecting her will be kicked out on sight. If you're a member, you will hand over your cut and walk out that door. If you are a hang on chic, and I mean every one of you girls over there, if one of you disrespects her, I will kick all of you out. Do I make myself clear? I will always choose my daughter over a hang on chic every time. Girls, in this club, marriage is sacred. It's hard enough to be married and in a club, so I will not have you chasing me daughters' husband like the bitches in heat that you are. I spoke with them not long ago and they were in Biloxi, they should be here sometime early in the morning. Now, does anyone have a problem with anything I just said? No one. Good. Now get out. Greaser and Grit, I need your help. I'm trading rooms with Shooter and I need help getting everything switched around. That room is in the center of the building and the hardest to get to. Shooter, are you good with everything you just heard?"
"Sounds fine Tank, I wish I could have seen facial expressions, it makes it easier to know what someone is really thinking."
"I know me boy, but what they are really thinking is, don't mess with our money, make sure we have women and beer; the girl, they're pissed and all pouting. That's why I said if one acted, they would all suffer."
"Yeah, maybe they will think twice. Thank you for letting us listen in and I'll call you next stop."
"Ok me boy, be careful."
The line goes silent and I'm really hoping my pops didn't just make my life that much harder.
"Shooter, you don't think that's going to make it worse with the chics?"
"No, they don't want to leave, and they will all find a new guy to fixate on before long. Don't expect to make any friends out of that group."
"I don't want to make any friends out of that group."
"I know, baby. Why don't you lay back and sleep, I know you haven't been sleeping?"
"Ok, I'll try." With that I lean my seat back as far as it will go, slipping my sunglasses on to block the sun shining directly in my window. The hum and rhythm of the tires soon lulls me into a light sleep.