Chapter 12
“We here open the six-hundred and fourteenth meeting of the Legion of Kronos Motorcycle Club,” Lucas said. “Thanks for coming.”
“Everyone’s here except Monty,” Cantrell said.
Lucas paced back and forth in front of the group, his boots crunching in the kitty litter Jigsaw had put down to absorb the oil of the garage floor.
“Thank you, Master of Ring and Key. Does anybody have any old business? I hope not, I have some news.” Nobody spoke immediately, so Lucas jumped into the opening. “I want you all to know...”
“Hold on a sec,” Billy said. “It’s hot as a prison laundry in here. Can we flip up that door?”
“I’ll turn on the window fan,” Jigsaw said. The ceiling of the garage was high so that he had to stand on his cot just to reach the chain. He put a greasy boot print on the blue U-Haul blanket that was draped over it, and when he got down looked at that with a frown. The old fan began to suck air in through the window on the opposite wall.
“Hope mamma ain’t watchin’ T.V. That fan puts squigglies onto it,” Jigsaw said.
“Saints preserve us, I’m about to bust open,” Lucas said. “Can’t I get this out?”
“Sorry,” Billy said.
“Sorry,” Jigsaw said.
“Harold’s taken the plunge and he’s back at my place. We were pretty sure he was the one before that happened, but now it’s for sure.”
The group’s no swearing rule was broken as each spoke an exclamation of excitement, or clapped, or whistled. Lucas didn’t try to contain them. He understood how they felt and let them get it out for a minute, not interrupting until the hoots faded into banter.
“To order, to order,” he said. “I know you’re excited, but let’s get it together you heathens. This ain’t the Summer of Love people. It’s going to take time for him to understand his new role. Right now he’s really confused, but he’ll come around I reckon. He’s taking in the catalogue and learning the background...”
“Any manifestations?” Cantrell asked.
“Only one. He had a dream about this little toy peddle car from when he was a kid, and it disappear from his back yard and reappeared in his bedroom – totally refurbished. Textbook. It’s a small thing, but it’s a start.”
He had to take another break for them to settle down. Cantrell said, “When are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas said slowly. “I don’t think he’s ready yet. I want to get the catalogue into him first. By the way, thanks for the CDR player and the disk Jigsaw. I gave it to him and he’s sucking up the material like a champ. He’s a natural. Loves the boys.”
“What ya talking about? “ Ed asked.
“I got a CDR player to give to whoever turned out to be the one,” Jigsaw said. “It plays files off a disk. Instead of eighty minutes of music on one CD, you can get like 20 hours. I made a disk with the essential tunes on it.”
“Nice,” Ed said. “Pretty slick.”
“Thanks,” Jigsaw said.
“So what now?” Billy asked. “Just wait for him to save the world, or what?”
Lucas started pacing again. Even with the fan going it was hot in Jigsaw’s mother’s garage, hot and musty. The air was hazy, and the air was pregnant with the smell of cardboard boxes in the eaves, comic books aging to perfection in an olive drab filing cabinet, paper bags of newspapers, and wig boxes stuffed with photographs. It was silverfish heaven, where old dreams go to be eaten by insects and new dreams go to be born.
“Nope,” he said. “While we’re waiting, and helping Harold come around, we have to keep The Congregation away from him and the Disciples of Demeter away from the rings. Jigsaw, any word from Monty?”
“Got an email awhile back, he said he thought they might be in some museum out there. He promised to let me know as soon as he checked it out.”
“Good. If he can do it legally, I want him to get those rings before the DOD can scarf ‘em up. Everybody else, please keep your ears to the ground. You hear anything about the DOD or The Congregation, don’t wait for a meeting. Call me right straight,” Lucas said.
“It’s going to be hard to keep the Disciples from getting the rings,” Tonya said. “One reading they get the rings, the next they don’t. It may be in the cards that they get them, I can’t be sure.”
“Maybe that means the future is unwritten as far as the rings go. Let’s hope so,” Lucas said.
When they were done talking over the situation and everyone’s questions were answered, Lucas had them circle their chairs and he led group. Everyone felt good about how they’d done since the last group session except Ed, who had downed a few beers, more than a few, the previous weekend. They had for the most part identified the how and why of it but weren’t quite done when Lucas looked up and saw that it was going to be dark soon.
“Look, I’m real sorry but I’m losing daylight like anything and I gotta get back to Harold. Cantrell, can you take over here? God I’m sorry Ed.”
“Harold’s more important than me, go on,” Ed said. “Don’t feel bad.”
“He’s not more important, he’s just more helpless right now, that’s all. Thanks for understanding you old cuss. C’mon Opal, let’s burn rubber.”
They rushed out and got on the bike, but it wouldn’t catch.
“Hand me that cell Jigsaw, and get your tool box. Gotta call Harold and let him know I’m gonna be few.”
Chatters on the Tide Page 12