Ghosts & Shadows Pt. 05

"Hugh" I heard Gail scream. I was turning and saw something out of the corner of my eye. It looked a lot like a mug full of beer coming straight at my head. I'd seen a guy walk into one of those in a bar fight in Berlin back in the 70s -- and he never got up again! This guy wasn't playing.

Except, it never reached its target. A hand grabbed it and stopped it in its arc. I backed away enough to see what was happening. A guy who was big enough that he didn't need the weapon -- he had at least three inches over my 6-foot-2 -- was poised to put my lights out permanently, but for the dark-haired guy who had stepped between us. He was about my height, maybe an inch shorter. He had the bruises to show he'd been in some serious disagreement in the not too distant past. He wasn't muscle-bound, but he looked like he kept in shape. Right now he was staring at the guy holding the mug.

"You don't want to do that! This was just a friendly brawl. You hit somebody with that, you're going away for a long time. Just walk away."

"Let me go you cocksucker, or I'll put you down before I take care of the old man. You got two seconds."

I heard a voice I recognized from behind me.

"I ought to let you try to take him, but I already lost one plate glass window last month and I don't want another riot in here tonight. Take a good look, asshole! You REALLY want to take him on?"

The tall backstabber took a closer look at the man holding his arm, then his glance flickered toward the front of the bar, where a long plate glass window ran the length of the establishment. Something...some recognition, flashed in his eyes.

A short, dark-haired, limping guy more my age came forward, carrying a Louisville Slugger.

"If, by chance, you make it past G, I'll put you down myself. You still want to fight?"

The man with the mug, who looked more like a trucker than a cowboy, thought about it, then jerked his hand away and the man called "G" let him go.

"Fuck it, it's not worth it. There are plenty of better places to spend my money, my money and my friends' money."

"I'll hate to lose your business, but if that's the way you feel," and O'Brien pointed with the business end of the bat toward the front of the bar.

In five minutes a dozen cowboys and their friends had made their way out after making numerous promises to see the queer, the nigger and the old guy again. We just enraged them by pretending to shiver in fear. I know, I know, it was juvenile as hell, especially for an old fart like me, but it felt good.

Percy and his boyfriend rubbed the blood off each other's face and noses and Percy laughed as he caught Bobby's eye. Bobby had loved on Chauvonne's lip where the bottle had busted it, but it hadn't damaged any teeth.

Bobby turned to me as I sat next to Gail, "Hugh, you gotta stop dragging us to these dives. Two upstanding banking executives can't be going around kicking ass in low life dives."

O'Brien had come up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with the Louisville Slugger, saying, "Smile when you call my low life dive a low life dive."

"He meant no offense, Mr. O'Brien," Gail said, leaning forward so that lush acres of soft breast gaped invitingly.

O'Brien grinned as he stared down into her cleavage and said, "None taken, Ms. Hunt."

Gail turned to look at the bar and the dark-haired man who might have saved my life.

"Who is your gallant friend, Mr. O'Brien?" she asked. "I'd like to buy him a drink. I'm very fond of Mr. Davidson, and I think your friend probably saved Hugh's life, or at least kept him out of the hospital."

O'Brien gestured to him and he walked over in time to hear the bar owner say, "He's just a barfly who hangs out here now and then. I keep trying to talk him into accepting at least a part-time job as a bouncer, but he keeps saying no. Maybe you'd have more luck than me."

As he approached her, Gail swiveled in her chair to give the man called "G" a great view of her assets. She extended her hand to his, he took it and, with an air of old-time formality, bent and kissed it.

She looked at him with an incredulous expression on her face, grinned at me, and then told him, "An old-time gentleman. Please let me buy you a drink and would you do us the honor of joining us at our table."

"Thank you, but that's not necessary, Ma'am," he said, unable to take his eyes off her cleavage but fighting the good fight not to be totally obvious. "I didn't do anything, and don't believe a word O'Brien says about me. He's got it in his head that I'm some super fighter. I'm just a guy who...got in a few lucky punches the other night."

O'Brien shook his head, pointed to the plate glass window displaying "O'Brien's Bar" in large gold letters and said, "A month or so ago, it was G who pretty much protected two women from getting themselves badly hurt by some really cowardly assholes. He also wound up taking out the entire plate glass front of this place by hitting it with the body of a bruiser who made your friends look small and delicate by comparison."

G just shook his head and said, "O'Brien, stop it, you're embarrassing me."

"Please, Mr. -- G -- what is that anyway -- sit and let us buy you a couple of drinks."

"Giovanni - Giovanni Palpatino. I'm not from Italy directly, born and bred right here in Jacksonville. I wouldn't mind a drink but I didn't do anything tonight. I just didn't want to see your friend get seriously hurt in an otherwise regular Friday night scrimmage here."

He turned his attention away from those breasts to look at me curiously.

"I could swear I know you. O'Brien said you're some banking guy? Where do I know you from?"

I looked at him and he began to look oddly familiar. I thought about it and from nowhere, it came to me. I stood and made a feint at him with my right while putting up my left to block. He just stared at me for a moment, and then a smile broke out on his bruised face.

"I'll be damned. You're the o-"

He stopped and I smiled at him.

"It's okay - I'm the old guy. We used to spar once in a while."

I looked over at Gail.

"This guy used to work with kids at the Police Athletic League boxing matches. He was pretty good in the ring. Are you still a..."

I stopped and looked at Gail. I thought she was getting into the good-looking young guy, but it would come up sooner or later.

"A teacher, no. I got out of the business a few years ago. I'm not sure I did the right thing - some days I know I didn't, but..."

"Where'd you teach?" Gail asked softly.

"Frank H. Peterson - what used to be the Westside Skills Center."

"Did you ever know a guy named, Robert Sandler? He was a teacher there."

"Yeah, I met him the first year I was there. He was a good guy. You know him?"

"I did -- it's ancient history. Anyway, it was still good of you to step in," she said, laying one soft hand on his arm. I swear, you could almost smell the female pheromones flowing off her in waves.

G must have sensed them too, because he hesitated, saying, "Ms...Hunt, I would love a drink, but..."

O'Brien walked around behind him, placing one calloused hand on his shoulder.

"What G is too much of a gentleman to say is that he's in the process of divorcing a cheating wife he's still a little hung up on, and he's in love with a female cop who doesn't seem to be returning the feelings. Young love! He's also trying to be a gentleman and give you a heads up!"

Gail gave the young man a hard look.

"God, men are such narcissists! I'm not asking you to marry me, G. I might drag you back to my mansion before the night's over and fuck your brains out, if you're not too much of a gentleman for that - but I just want to have some fun tonight. You wanna have some fun?"

G just looked down at the table for a moment, then raised his gaze and met her eyes squarely.

"I think I really need some fun tonight, Ms. Hunt, if I haven't already pissed you off."

"Oh, you haven't," she said, taking his hand in hers and doing everything but making love to it on the table top.

Things got noisy and alcoholic from that point, as G got Gail up for some line dancing for what I think was the first time in her life and then when slower music took over, Bobby and Chauvonne and Percy and his friend got up for some cheek to cheek action.

I was sitting back, congratulating myself on being a Master of human relations, when I glanced across the bar's large and crowded dance floor, to see something that was impossible.