After Tarra completed her hasty makeover and was back at the bar, she rounded up all the money she had left and counted it. Nine dollars. That was it. Tarra had noticed that the two sailors were drinking bottles of Alaskan Amber. Unfortunately for her, Amber was four dollars a bottle in Jessup’s bar. Tarra squeezed the money tight in her fist, and sighed. She decided to go ahead and use the very last of her cash to buy the sailors a drink.
That decision, however, would turn out to net her the biggest return on any investment she had ever made, in all her life.
Tarra waved down Jessup in between customers and called him over. She was delighted to notice him do a double-take on her appearance, although he said nothing about it.
“Two bottles of Alaskan Amber, please.” She shouted over all the noise.
“You too, eh?” Jessup said, cocking his head over at the sailors.
“Yeah, me too.” Tarra stated as she handed eight of the nine dollars to Jessup, and proudly slam-dunked the remaining dollar into his tip jar. He winked at her, having no clue that she was officially dead broke.
Tarra clutched the icy-cold bottles and contemplated taking a quick pull off one of them, just in case her plan didn’t pan out. But she didn’t. Instead, she gathered herself and confidently strolled over to the sailors’ table. Hair Club was the first to see her coming and did a double-take on her, one quite similar to Jessup’s a few moments prior. She waltzed right up to their table and laid an Amber at each of their places. Both the guys were looking at her now, curiously.
“I just want to thank you guys for that awesome rendition of Motley Crue earlier.” Tarra laughed as she said to them over the loud crowd.
Hair Club replied, “Thank you young lady, it is very much appreciated! I’m surprised and also embarrassed that you took notice.” He shyly picked up the bottle but didn’t drink it. He was looking up at his buddy, almost as if to say, “Help! Pretty girl alert! I don’t know what the hell to do right now! Save me!”
Tall-and-Tattooed nodded at her and said, “Yeah, thanks dude.” He grabbed his bottle by the neck and took a hefty pull off it as he cautiously eyed her up.
Dude? She thought. He called me ‘dude’. What the fuck? I don’t think this is working, time to bail. Damnit!
Tarra put on her most charming, innocent local girl act and said, “Well, I hope you guys have fun while you’re here in Alaska!” She turned to go back to her place at the bar, broke and defeated. Her feet felt as if they were drudging through a foot of mud on her way there when suddenly she heard Tall-and-Tattooed shout, “Hey! Where you going?”
Tarra turned around and he was waving her back to their table! She was ecstatic, but kept her cool as she returned.
“Yes? Can I help you, sir?” She said to him with a sly grin.
“We didn’t even get your name.” Tall-and-Tattooed said to her. When he said ‘we’, she was pretty sure that Hair Club was the one wanting to know, but he was too shy. Tarra gave them her name, the abbreviated version of it, of course. No need to confuse the gentlemen on their first meeting. She was pretty sure that Tall-and-Tattooed had given her fake names because he had introduced himself as “Fish” and his buddy, Hair Club, as “Stephen King.”
Tarra thought to herself; Wow, does this douchebag really think that I am such a primitive native inuit waaaayy up here in Alaska that I have never heard of Stephen King before? He was actually starting to piss her off, and she was about to get his goat.
Tarra sarcastically said to Stephen, “Wow, I really love your writing, Mr. King, I am such a huge fan!”
Fish knew he was busted, and interrupted, “It was just a joke. His name really is Stephen, though.”
Stephen, however, wasn’t done with the ruse yet. He looked at Tarra and said, “What was your favorite book of mine?”
“It’s a toss-up between The Stand or the Gunslinger series. But I am a fan of just about all of them. Which one did you enjoy writing the most, sir?”
Stephen was at a loss for second since she was still playing along, but quickly recovered. He replied, “All of them were fun, but I would have to say IT was the most fun.”
“IT was the most fun!” Tarra exclaimed and clapped her hands. Fish looked confused.
“Yes, IT was the most fun!” Stephen added.
Fish, desperately trying to get in on the act, blurted, “I really liked your book Cujo.”
Tarra nodded and threw him a curveball, “So, if he’s such a good buddy of yours, name five other books that he wrote.”
Fish paused, since he was put on the spot, but came up with, “Oh, that’s easy. But, did you know that he actually wrote The Shawshank Redemption? Most people don’t know that, they think it’s just a movie.” Fish proudly countered. He only knew that information because a few days prior they had played the movie on the USS Chandler’s site TV system, and Stephen had mentioned it to him during the show.
Tarra laughed and replied, “You mean Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption? It is one of his novellas from the Different Seasons collection.”
Stephen cocked his head with interest at her. This girl was smart, and she knew what she was talking about! She was a fellow Constant Reader!
Tarra and Stephen hit it off instantly. It was obviously apparent to her that between him and Fish, that he was the brains behind their whole little operation. Even though Fish was tall and attractive, nothing clicked with him like it did with Stephen. As the two talked, Fish told them he felt like a ‘third wheel’ and left the table to mingle it out with the rest of the crowd.
Stephen and Tarra talked and talked. He was able to ascertain that Tarra was dead broke, due to buying him and Fish the Ambers, so he went ahead and paid for all her drinks. Drink after drink after drink. They were having a great time! They were over an hour or so into their conversation, when Tarra’s so-called “boyfriend” staggered very drunk into the bar and spoke to Jessup.
She spotted him talking to the bartender and slunk in her chair as Jessup pointed her out through the crowd. Damnit! Not now, you bastard.
“What’s wrong?” Stephen asked.
“Nothing. Well, maybe something. My boyfriend’s here.” She answered.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had one.” Stephen politely stated, but looked disappointed.
“He’s not really my boyfriend. Well, kinda. It’s complicated.”
“I understand. He looks pretty rough.” Stephen said, observing the large, angry man shoving his way through the crowd toward their table. Stephen quickly scanned the bar for Fish, but couldn’t find him. Maybe he was in the bathroom or something.
“I’m sorry.” Tarra said quietly to Stephen, just as her boyfriend, Luke arrived at their table. Luke looked at all the empty bottles and shot glasses on the table, then turned his intoxicated glare to Stephen, who was also intoxicated but passively looked away because he wanted no trouble.
Luke swayed as he spoke to Tarra, “Looks like you did some good mooching off these tourists, Butterfly. Nice. Now let’s go.”
“Ok, just go outside, I’ll be there in a minute.” Tarra snapped at him, reluctantly.
“You’ve got one minute. Like, as in, sixty seconds,” Luke said, and gave Stephen one last look of disgust before leaving and heading towards the door.
Tarra looked hurt as she explained to Stephen that she owed him money, and that he has all kinds of connections in Alaska. He was not a man to be messed with. She also threw in a quick line (and guilt trip) about Stephen being gone with his ship in a couple days but she would still be stuck there.
Stephen acknowledged that he understood her predicament, and gave her a quick, friendly hug before she gathered up her belongings and left the table. On her way out, she looked him deep in the eyes and said, “I wish things were different.”
Stephen watched her as she reluctantly made her way through the crowd and out the door. He was sad. There was something about Tarra that Stephen had never experienced before. He really, really liked her. He also
wished things were different, and that they could have at least exchanged contact information or something. He scolded himself for being so weak and letting her go away so easily.
Suddenly, Stephen noticed another man moving from the pool table area quickly toward the door. It was Fish! And it looked like he was on a mission. Stephen immediately realized what had happened. Fish must have been playing pool and saw Tarra leave.
As Tarra left the bar and lit up a cigarette, she dreaded leaving Stephen. He was a total sweetheart, super intelligent and good looking too! She didn’t have to dumb down her conversation when talking with him, as she had to do with most of the roughnecks and fisherman she dated. She could be herself.
Tarra was about to make an extremely poor decision by getting into a very intoxicated boyfriend’s car when she heard a shout behind her.
“Hey! What the fuck, yo?” It was Fish, and he was moving quickly towards her boyfriend’s car. Her boyfriend saw him approaching and got back out of the vehicle, ready and hungry for a confrontation.
“Why you gonna leave my buddy hangin’ like that?” Fish shouted at Tarra as he walked up. He was swaying also, almost as much as Luke was. Although Fish was a decent-sized man, Luke’s arms were bigger, and he was a bit more rough around the edges than Fish. Tarra didn’t know much about Fish, but based on general appearances, she figured that Luke had a good chance of taking him in a fight. Additionally and more importantly, Luke never fought fair, and that worried Tarra.
Tarra shouted at Fish, “Just go back inside, jackass! This isn’t your problem.”
“The hell it ain’t! Who’s this turd?” Fish pointed at Luke, who was slowly making his way around the hood of his car towards them. Tarra became nervous, she didn’t want to see Fish get hurt, he was only trying to help out his friend. She then saw the bar door burst open and Stephen emerged, loud music blaring from behind him momentarily before the door slammed shut. He immediately ran toward the scene developing in the parking lot.
“Fish! Wait! Hold on, man. I need to tell you something.” Stephen yelled.
Fish pointed at Tarra and said, “Don’t go anywhere.”
Stephen pulled Fish a few feet away from the scene and explained to him what Tarra had said about the boyfriend, the money, and his “connections”.
“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass who he is!” Fish shouted at Stephen and waved a sloppy arm towards Luke. Stephen recoiled and nervously looked over at Luke, who was now standing next to Tarra with arms crossed in happy anticipation of some type of conflict.
Luke huffed and then spoke to Fish with mock boredom, “Do we have a problem, douchebag? I need to get my dirty cock into this bitch here sometime tonight before I pass out.”
Tarra snapped, “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me!” Luke belted out, laughing. Then he puffed out his chest and stared at Fish, who now was breathing extra hard in utter disgust, his clenched fists stiff at his side.
Tarra was still angry at Luke’s degrading remark, and was shaking her head, but did nothing other than roll her eyes and turn away.
Luke was pretty sure that the dude with the nice hair wasn’t a fighter, but he wasn’t so sure about the other one. Fish. Or whatever the hell he called himself. He looked like he had been through some shit during his lifetime, and he was pretty damn tall with a huge reach. It was the nice-hair guy that was sitting with Tarra in the bar, and this Fish character was obviously very loyal to him for some reason.
Fish regained his composure, took a deep breath, and calmly said, “Last chance, dude. Leave Tarra alone and I’ll leave you alone. Otherwise, yes, we have a big problem.”
Luke sneered at Fish and once again sized him up. Maybe it was the calmness in Fish’s voice, or the tattoos, or the loyalty to his buddy, but Luke was pretty sure that this dude was actually ready to go a few rounds right there in the parking lot, which was unlike most guys who would have already backed off by that point.
There was a slight hint of fear in Luke’s voice as he said, “Wow, you really want to fight over scraggly ol’ Butterfly here?” He pushed Tarra to the side by her shoulder, maybe just a little too hard, and she almost took a spill in the parking lot from the force of it.
“That’s it, pal, it’s game time.” Fish declared as he pulled his shirt sleeves up over his shoulders, readying himself for battle. He never accepted violence to women. It was precisely that moment when Tarra noticed the cartoonish-looking tattoo of a crow on Fish’s left deltoid, which was previously covered up by his shirt sleeve, and she gasped in realization.
A white man arriving on a powerful sailing vessel, traveling with a crow. The words of her grandfather echoed in her head. Oh my god, it’s Stephen! His buddy Fish is the crow! The old man might have been right all along!
As Fish went to charge at Luke, Stephen stepped in front of him and did his best to hold him back, but Fish was on a warpath and a struggle between them ensued. Tarra, suddenly empowered by her grandfather’s vision and her anger at Luke’s comments and actions, shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Hey! Guys, don’t worry, I got this.”
Fish and Stephen, startled, stopped pushing each other and turned to Tarra, who flew up into the air and with a half-spin, kicked Luke square in the temple! She landed awkwardly, probably due to her excessive alcohol consumption, but Luke went down like a truckload of broken concrete. And stayed down.
“What the-“ Stephen murmured into Fish’s ear in astonishment as Tarra leaned over the unconscious body of her abusive boyfriend and spat upon it. She grabbed Stephen and Fish each by the crook of their arms and turned them toward the street.
“Why don’t we get the hell out of here before he wakes up, shall we?”
Shrugging and laughing, both of them agreed.
The rest is history, as Stephen’s ship returned to Everett and in the days afterward he kept in constant contact with her. After only two weeks of communicating through emails and phone calls, Tarra asked if she could come down and visit him for a while, and since Stephen lived alone in a lousy apartment, her sales pitch was to cook and clean for him while he was at work, and by night they could hang out and be together. She didn’t feel quite right on her native soil in Alaska anymore and desperately wanted to leave, and the bonus was that she was convinced Stephen was her destined soulmate. Even her grandfather agreed.
Stephen had very positive feelings toward the arrangement; he thought that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, so he sought counsel with Fish to see if he was making a poor decision or not. Normally, Fish would be totally against any such type of arrangement, as it could possibly place his relationship with his best buddy in jeopardy with a “woman in the picture”. Had Fish told Stephen that he did not think it was a good idea, Stephen would have likely heeded Fish’s advice and politely declined. But, as luck (or fate) would have it, in the case of Tarra, Fish simply responded, “Sure, why not? That Eskimo chick was cool as hell.”
Tarra found out a few months later that the tattoo of the crow on Fish’s shoulder wasn’t even supposed to have been there. As the story goes, as a young sailor it took Fish a bit longer to promote to Petty Officer Third Class than most sailors did. Since he was so proud of his achievement when it actually happened, he took some shore leave and went back home to his hometown of Kalispell, Montana to celebrate. Sailors have nicknames for most things, and call their Petty Officer rank insignia “crows” due to the symbol of the American eagle above the chevrons. Fish got extremely intoxicated during his shore leave in Montana, and decided to get his “crow” tattooed on his shoulder where it normally would be if he were in uniform. Well, the tattooist in Montana wasn’t familiar with Navy lingo whatsoever and went ahead and did exactly as Fish had instructed, and tattooed an actual crow on his arm, which wasn’t anything near what he had wanted.
Chapter 8 – Stephen Gets Ditched
Back in the present, Stephen, Fish and Connie left the Oak Harbor Bar and Cafe with e
xtreme haste and made their way to Off the Hook, a bar and grill that presented a live DJ on the weekends after nine o’clock and had a small, sturdy wooden dance floor for those in the mood to get down. It was a local favorite among the sailors stationed on Whidbey Island, and Fish mentioned to them both as they walked that he hoped “his table” had not yet been occupied. If so, he would either negotiate with the current occupants for some seats or simply hang around the vicinity of “his table” and make it so uncomfortable for those occupants to be there that they would eventually just up and leave on their own.
As the trio entered the bar, they noticed that Off the Hook was already packed.
“Cripes, look at all those people! There better be seats open at my table.” Fish grumbled, as they showed their ID cards to the doorman. The doorman rolled his eyes and laughed to himself at Fish’s ridiculousness.
Connie attempted to console him with, “Don’t worry big boy, we’ll find somewhere to sit.”
“No, I want my table, damnit.” He said, almost angrily.
Once they were inside, it was Stephen’s turn to be the celebrity, as several sailors from his squadron had already taken up residency within the bar, and many of them cheered as he walked in. It made Stephen a bit emotional, to see his former shipmates explode with such enthusiasm at his entrance. He could barely hold it together as the handshakes and ‘where ya been(s)’ and ‘we need you back(s)’ flowed one right after another. He felt missed, and for a short moment he wished that he wasn’t retiring. A very short-lived moment, indeed.
Fish had already pioneered a trail through the customers, mostly sailors, who were mostly standing, and waved Constantine over to “his” table, which was miraculously vacant (Stephen thought he saw some guys out of the corner of his eye immediately abandon the table when Fish first walked in, but he wasn’t entirely sure). Connie was still shaking hands and passing out quick hugs, as she was also merrily greeted by the half-drunk guys from the squadron, but for other obvious reasons, of course. She had a vagina.
THE COLLAPSE: Swantown Road Page 6