A Ten Pound Bag
Chapter 149: A Night at the Riverfront
Copyright© 2020 by Emmeran
Sheriff was upset and I didn’t much blame him. Since his time twitch, he’d tasted the lash himself and discovered very quickly how cruel life really was. I’d learned that lesson myself as a young man in the rock and dirt of some far, foreign desert. Veterans of Foreign Wars indeed! That term didn’t even begin to embrace what it truly entailed. Perhaps a better name would be the “Innocence Lost beyond Recovery Drinking Club”. Once stained the innocent soul can never be pure again, a remnant of that staining always remains and while it might create an appealing design it still remains a stain. Perfection has been ruined.
We were drinking together in silence, with only occasional words shared. It seemed we were both contemplating the same thing; it was comforting to not be alone, while doing so.
An odd pet peeve of mine from the modern world entered my head and I chuckled out loud. That drew an inquisitive look from Sheriff. It was so appropriately inappropriate, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Sheriff just had to know, “What the f•©k, Zach?”
I was still cracking up and trying to control myself, “I was thinking about arguments we would have as young couples.”
I slowly brought myself under control, “Fierce arguments about the idea of, ‘baby learning to sleep alone, in its own bed, and in a dark room.’”
He reflected for a moment and said, “Yeah, we had those too. So what?”
I got serious, “I hated the idea that the first lesson a kid learned in its new, strange world, was that the only two people the child recognized and loved, would abandon it to a dark room by itself and not come to rescue it. Those a baby trusted most, left it to face fears it didn’t even understand.”
“So, congratulations modern world, you have automated disenchantment, along with assembly of the automobile.”
Sheriff started giggling also. It only took a moment for him to tie it altogether. He was barely able to hold it in as we exchanged corny cheap shots, “Venture forth, child of mine, with the unshakable faith that we will abandon you in your darkest of times...” “Have you met our good friend, Dr. Suicide?” and so forth. We even devolved to the “Sorry kid, Daddy needs a blowjob” level. We flat out were losing it.
Yeah, we were stressed and tested the limits of the absurd. Amos interrupted us; the boats had arrived.
As we neared quayside, I realized that I didn’t need to be down there. I would be nothing but a hinderance on a good day, and probably an out-and-out problem this evening. My love of coffee wasn’t doing me any favors. I was wide awake and in the mood for hot sex or bloody havoc and I didn’t care which, at that moment.
Timmons and the captains met us on the way down. They took control and informed us we were going to Quayside Pub, and that’s all there was to it. I wanted available women and they took me to a Captains House, bastards!
We sat at another long table and had coffee while they discussed business and I fumed. Now the itch for a fight overwhelmed logic. Everything said offended me. I was aggravated and spoiling for trouble.
At that point, I was suddenly on the move again. I was told later that Patrick had realized, in an instant, the signs of a man about to lose it. Apparently, he had seen it before. He was fetching one of his mates when he ran across the Jewish tradesmen with their wounded Rabbi. The Rabbi took charge and they decided to save the world from me.