Reservoir of Power Ch. 01

Lochlainn Thorsson laid his axe aside for a moment as he once again wondered about his future. He knew that he'd been putting off making a decision about his life and that he needed to end this dithering soon. The harvest was almost finished and then he'd have to make some sort of a choice. He knew that he couldn't follow this crew to their next bid as it was an old growth job and he adamantly refused to work those contracts. Thorsson was willing to work as a lumberjack in any of the man-planted tree farms, but the old growth areas had a soul. He could feel it; he could almost hear it speaking to him.

He looked to the surrounding mountains and saw that they were still covered with virgin wood. These forests always made him think of his father and he knew that some day he'd need to search for the man and make his peace with his nature, but today was not that day. Today he had to finish his shift, and then he'd need to figure out which direction that he'd search next.

Maybe he'd head out toward Billings, but then again, the Great Falls area was nice too. And while he knew that he should stop this endless drifting and finally make some use of his degree, he just wasn't sure if he really wanted to do that yet. He was still looking for something... something elusive, something that he'd surely recognize when he saw it.

Lochlainn had spent five years in Missoula getting his degree, although in truth, he'd mostly remained there to play ball with his teammates, actually obtaining his degree had been a bit of a surprise. The fact that he'd graduated second in his class had been an even bigger shock to him. He'd even been offered the opportunity to speak at his class's graduation ceremony, but he'd quickly declined that trap. There was no way that he was going to stand up and speak in front of that many people.

He briefly considered returning to Missoula, because after all, he knew that he'd have no problems in obtaining employment there. He rejected the idea almost immediately though; he'd seen all that his college town contained, and whatever it was that he heard gently whispering to him, it wasn't coming from Missoula.

Then his foreman shouted, "Lucky! Your break is over; get your large ass back to work! We need to get this job done by nightfall."

Thorsson didn't reply; everyone in the crew knew that he never spoke much. Instead, he just picked up his axe and chainsaw and headed back to the job. It didn't bother him to be sent back to work; he wasn't tired anyway. Unlike the rest of his crew, he didn't really need breaks to get through the day, although his employers made him take them along with those who did. The big man knew that he would just continue to ponder his decision as he finished the job.

The day was long, and his crew worked until dusk, which came quite late this time of the year. As the crew worked, his supervisor never even glanced in Lochlainn's direction; there was no point in wasting his time. Every man on the crew knew that even on Lochlainn's slowest day, the huge red-head would produce twice the work of any other member of the team. He'd just methodically work anyone else into the ground.

When the long day finally ended, Lochlainn calmly walked to the rear of the line and waited to collect his pay. He was in no real hurry to get anywhere, unlike the rest of the men on the crew; he had no honey waiting at home. Nor did he have any interest in spending his evenings in one of the crowded and smoky bars. Though he liked to drink as much as the next man, he just wasn't crazy about suffering through the press of all of the people and their incessant jabbering. When the thought of the noisy jukeboxes and all of the drunken behavior from the patrons was added into the equation, he completely lost interest in going anywhere but home. Yes... he decided it was better to just head back to his van and go to bed. He'd spend the rest of the night looking up at the stars; he liked his peace and quiet, even if he had to admit that he was feeling more and more alone as the years went by.

His foreman barked, "Lucky," breaking Lochlainn out of his ruminations. "You are the last one; you do want your pay...right?"

Lochlainn slipped back to reality, aware that he'd been woolgathering again. "Umm, sure boss, and I need to turn in my gear. Today was my last day."

"Are you absolutely sure that I can't talk you out of quitting? You know that you are my best hand."

"Sorry boss, you know that I only work on the tree farms."

"Yeah, but some of this job will involve downing trees damaged by a wildfire. We'll have to clean all of that out before anything can be replanted. I could assign you to that and only that."

"I'm sorry boss. That would just free up the other men to do the old growth cutting, and I can't be a part of that."

"Lucky, I hate to lose you, even if you are some sort of a left-over hippy."

Lochlainn smiled at that; he was used to Erik's gentle teasing. He said nothing back to the man however; he just began stacking his company issued equipment into the back of his boss's truck. Then he stood waiting for Erik to come check that everything was returned and in good working order.

Erik looked at his best hand with amusement before he said, "There aint no way that I'm gonna come back there and check that. You take better care of your equipment than any man I've ever worked with. Besides, you are too honest for your own good; I am positive that everything is there, and it's probably in better condition that when you got it. Come on over here and get your money."

Lochlainn came back to the cab of Erik's truck and signed the pay sheet and collected his pay. As he pocketed the money, Erik reached out to him and the two men grasped biceps in the old warrior way.

"I'll miss you Lochlainn; you know that there will always be a job waiting here for you if you need it."

"Thanks boss."

"No, not boss anymore. Call me Erik, and good luck to you Lochlainn Thorsson. I have a feeling that you and I will meet again some day."

"Maybe." was all the big man said before he got into his battered old Econovan and drove slowly down the mountain. Erik just shook his head in amusement, and then finished his paperwork before heading home to his wife.

~~~~

A couple of weeks later, Lochlainn had landed in Kalispell Montana. He'd gotten a job tending bar in a local's place just off of the main drag that ran through town. He was pretty sure that he'd been hired as much to be a bouncer than he'd been hired as a bartender, for the place was too small to employ both at the same time. He hadn't had the opportunity to throw anyone out of the place yet, but as he was 6'10" and tipped the scales at over 350 lbs, he didn't get much guff from the drunks. There just were not that many people brave or stupid enough to try him.

Mike's Tavern was a rowdy, working-class kind of place, but Mike didn't let the jukebox get too loud and he insisted that all the smokers take their smoking outside to the tables that he had placed there. Lochlainn found that he didn't actually dislike working here, even though bars were usually not his thing. Besides, he told himself, it was probably only a temporary job anyway.

He'd been working here about a week now and he was pretty sure that if he were ever going to have any problems that they would likely happen tonight. Saturday nights were notorious for being rough and tumble in these small-town bars. Thus far though, it hadn't been bad at all. Indeed, business had been extremely slow and Lochlainn was beginning to wonder why.

Kalispell wasn't a big town at only 20,000 people or so, if you didn't count whatever tourists were in town before they headed up to Glacier National Park. There never was much to do in a small town so he wondered where the patrons were this evening and what they might be doing instead of drinking. The deserted bar was a mystery to him.

Currently, there were only two men in the tavern, the same old coots who had been at Mike's every night so far. Neither one of the men ever drank much, usually the two of them just sat back and watched whatever was going on around them, or when it was dead slow like now, they'd just sit at watch ESPN on the television set mounted high on the wall. Lochlainn knew that whatever Jimmy and Earl were spending tonight, it wasn't enough to pay his salary, much less keep the lights burning and the bills paid in full.

After an hour of near silence, Lochlainn finally decided to ask, "So...where is everyone tonight? It was busier than this on Monday.

Earl looked away from the dirt track race that he'd been watching and said, "Give it a few more minutes and it will be too damned loud in here for us to finish watching the race."

This didn't really answer Lochlainn's question, but he left well enough alone; he knew that the two old men were natives of Kalispell and had their finger on whatever was going on in town tonight. If they said that the place was going to fill up, then it would fill with patrons soon. Lochlainn just grunted and wiped the bar for the one hundredth time that night.

Truly, Earl had known the rhythms of Kalispell, because not more than ten minutes later, the tavern started to welcome patrons into its beery embrace. Large groups of men, one right after another, came rolling into the bar- all of them in high spirits.

"They must have actually won one," Jimmy said dryly.

"But they never win," Earl answered.

Lochlainn said nothing, though he wondered what sport would be contested on a Saturday night in early June.

"Damn right we won one!" One of the new arrivals said enthusiastically. "We got a couple of new girls and they are really good!"

"Good skaters?" Earl asked.

"The little one is as fast as a running deer and she scored a ton of points for us tonight. The other girl didn't do any scoring, but she is huge, and she is way quicker on her feet than she looks like she should be. No one could get around her."

"Ice hockey" Lochlainn asked.

"Roller Derby," Jimmy replied.

Lochlainn raised his eyebrows in surprise, but as usual, he didn't say any more. A couple of things did occur to him however. One: all of the patrons filing into the tavern were wearing blue, and two: almost all of them were men.

Jimmy looked up from his race and said, "The girls will be here in a few minutes. Then it will get really loud." Lochlainn merely nodded, he was too busy pulling pitcher after pitcher of beer for the thirsty patrons to take the time to answer the old man.

Just as Jimmy had predicted, around ten minutes later a blonde Amazon crashed through the bar's doors and unleashed a blood-curdling war-scream that was loud enough to wake the dead. Standing at nearly 6'2" and still wearing all of her game uniform except her skates and pads, the brassy woman came striding into the room as if she owned it. She was wearing fishnet stockings and her face was smeared with blue and black war paint. The rest of her squad followed closely on her heels, all of them hooting and hollering as if they had just conquered the world.

"Is this the new player?" Lochlainn asked the old men quietly.

"Nope, that's just Mother Mary; she's your boss's wife. He'll be in here too, just as soon as he parks the bus that those crazy heathens just spilled out of. Mike will probably help you pour when it gets busy tonight."

Lochlainn raised an eyebrow at the sight of Mary. His new boss might be all of about 5'6" and maybe 140 pounds if he were soaking wet. This conquering Amazon looked like she would easily make two of him.

Lochlainn looked to where the two old coots sat grinning at him, and he realized that his expression of shock must be showing. Earl chuckled at him and then quietly said, "Remind us to tell you their story some slow night. It's a pretty funny story, but it's too loud in here to tell you right now."

As the night moved on, Jimmy and Earl were proved to be the prophets of Kalispell. The tavern got loud and the place was rockin', even without a noisy jukebox to drive the roar. The big man was fast for a barkeeper, but no one man could keep up with this sort of demand all by himself. Mike would appear at Lochlainn's side as if by magic when the rush became too much and would disappear just as quickly when things slowed down again. Drinks were flying off of the bar as yelling and laughter filled the open rafters, so Lochlainn was kept too busy to notice that the old men had faded outside to share a pipe and a hushed conversation with Mike and Mary.

Mike looked at the two and said, "so...what do you think of him?"

Jimmy said, "He don't talk much."

"He's friendly though," Earl added. "...and he stays busy. Whenever it is slow, he cleans and restocks everything. He was even worried earlier tonight when it was so slow."

Mary replied, "He's fast, Mike. You barely had the need to help him when it got crazy in there."

"...and he's fucking huge," Earl added. "I've never seen anything so big move so quickly before."

"What did you say his name was?" Mary asked.

"Lochlainn something... I've just been calling him Lucky; he doesn't seem to mind."

Mary's eyes shot open at this. "Lochlainn Thorsson?!"

"Yeah, I think that was it." Mike responded. "You know him?"

"Holy crap! I knew he looked familiar, but he didn't used to have that long hair and that huge beard."

Jimmy laughed, "Yeah, those wooden beads that he's woven into it are a nice touch. He looks like some kind of rampaging Celtic berserker."

"Who is he, Mary? Is there a problem?" Mike asked worriedly.

"Only that he's in there pouring beer for you instead of playing in the N.F.L. Do you remember that Offensive Tackle that the Grizzlies had a couple of years ago? It was that year that nobody could stop our running game."

"C'mon Mary, you know that I barely watch the N.F.L., much less the University of Montana Grizzlies."

"He was the best player that we ever had. The only reason that we got our hands on him was that the D-1 programs all thought he'd be too tall to be effective. By his sophomore year, they were all kicking themselves and trying to get him to transfer out."

"So why is he in there pouring beer instead of blocking for Peyton Manning?"

"Nobody has a clue. He even turned down an offer to attend the N.F.L. combine before the draft, and then, he just disappeared from the face of the Earth as soon as the season was over. He'd already finished his degree, so he didn't need to stick around. It was quite the story for awhile."

"You say that he has a degree," Earl interjected.

"Yep, evidently he is extremely smart and finished it quickly." Mary would have said more, but that's when the brawl started inside of the tavern. All four of them jumped to their feet and ran for the door, only to be met there by Lochlainn holding two men by the backs of their necks, both men thrashing and striking out with absolutely no success.

"Umm...what do you want me to do with them, boss?" Lochlainn asked, sounding almost embarrassed.

Mike grinned malevolently and said, "There is a pool over there about three houses down. You can get to it via the alley behind it, and I think you'll be able to throw those two over the back fence. They probably won't yell too much; it's the sheriff's house and if they wake his wife, she'll be pretty pissed."

"Okay boss, you'll watch the till for me until I get back?"

"Sure thing, Lucky," Mike said grinning.

The four watched with smiles on their faces as their new barkeeper dragged his burdens into the darkness. They all knew that the Anderson brothers were on their very last chance with Sheriff Gunderson, and they figured that both brothers would be very quiet as they flew over the fence.

"Best bartender I ever saw," Earl said with a laugh.

Mike reentered his tavern and yelled, "Okay everyone, the only reason that we are remaining open is that Lucky got that stopped before it got out of hand, so I strongly suggest that everyone visit his tip jar and express their gratitude. Now...who needs a drink?"

As the patrons laughed and went back to their victory party, Mary decided that it was time to go see how her new jammer was faring with the others. She didn't know the girl very well; she and her large friend had only shown up a few days before tonight's bout. She'd taken a chance in even allowing the two girls to suit-up tonight, but as usual, the Misfits were a couple of players short of having a full team, and none of the other skaters had minded allowing a couple of unknowns to join them.

Mary had planned to give the new girls a couple of jams each to see what they could do, and then to sit them for the rest of the match, but once the two had hit the floor, they had just taken it over. It had been clear to everyone in the building that Ylva was several levels of magnitude better than anyone else on either team, but as good of a jammer as she proved to be, Lena had been even more dominant as a blocker.

Mary had never seen anything quite like it. She'd been skating for years as she was the original member and founder of the team, and she had never seen anyone this good. Lena's floor awareness had simply been frightening; she'd had an uncanny knack of moving to the exact spot on the floor that would prove to be pivotal for blocking the enemy jammer, and she'd just glide into position before anyone else realized where the key location would be.

This didn't even begin to include Lena's size into the equation. Mary had always been the team's largest skater and their best blocker, and at 42 years old, she was the very definition of a grizzled vet, but next to Lena, she'd felt like a rank beginner, as well as some kind of a pixie.

Lena had appeared effortless in her ability to stop the other team's jammers when they attacked, and Mary had just sat back in stunned silence and continued to assign Lena shift after shift. As Mary thought back to the bout, she could only remember taking to the track a time or two, and that was a first for her, normally she was on the track all night long. Not that it had ever helped the team much; they'd almost never won a bout. For years the Big Mountain Misfits had been the smallest and the worst team in Montana, but tonight they'd beaten Helena's Helz Belz by 40, and it would have been closer to a hundred if Mary had kept the two girls on the track late in the match.

Mary saw that Ylva had found the back corner of the tavern and was now surrounded by her excited teammates. She also saw that Ylva didn't seem to be drinking, and somehow, this seemed to be out of character for the firebrand. The small girl was a mouthy little thing that rarely seemed to be quiet. This coupled with her black hair that had been cut short and spiky and the full sleeves of tattoos on both arms had made Mary think that the new girl would probably be in the process of drinking the rest of the team under the table, even if she did only possess a lithe 5'1" frame.

"You are not drinking," Mary asked as she appeared at the table.

"Yeah...about that..." Ylva started in embarrassment.

"Oh Lord, you are not even 21 are you?" Mary said, quickly figuring out why Ylva was hiding in the corner. "Hang on, I'll get the 'private party' sign posted; Mike won't mind. That way he can stay out of trouble with the Sheriff. I'm pretty sure that Gunderson will be dropping by later anyway, quicker if the Andersons put up much of a fuss when Lucky tosses them into his pool."

"All right everyone," Mary yelled, "as of right now, this is a private party! If any tourists show up, tell 'em to come back tomorrow!"

Mike just smiled and casually flipped the switch that extinguished all of the exterior and parking lot lights, while one of the skater's husbands shut and locked the only door into the tavern. Ylva was shocked at how quickly that all of that had happened, and it must have shown on her face because one of the other girls laughed at her and mouthed, "Small town."