BABY GIRL II For the Ones We Love

by Scott Hildreth

  “So, you’re saying he didn’t see it coming,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “I’m sure trying to,” I responded.

  “Well, he’s a tough little fucker. If he didn’t see it coming, that’d mean you’re pretty damned quick with those hands of yours,” he said, looking down at my hands.

  “One would suspect,” I responded.

  “You are a smart-ass, aren’t ya?” he said.

  “I do my best,” I responded.

  This guy clearly didn’t want to fight. I really didn’t either. I never have cared too much for fighting, regardless of my ability to do so. I was sick and tired of this little dance between him and I, so I decided to try to find a way to end it.

  “I ain’t sure I like your tone,” he said.

  “Well, I tell you what. You’ve been standing here bumping your gums for about ten minutes or more. I know I don’t like your tone. If you want to try your luck at whipping me in a show of defense in honor of your nephew, let’s get started. If you think you don’t like my tone, or that I’m a smart-ass and you want to teach me a lesson, take a swing. Other than that, how about you fellas get back on your bikes and go back to riding. This is a fine evening for doing just that,” I inhaled slowly.

  And he took a swing.

  He swung his right arm, and when he did so, he telegraphed his punch with his shoulder. His shoulder moved about two full seconds before his fist started. It was as if the punch was thrown in slow motion. Naturally, I moved my head to the right, twisted my shoulder, and caught his fist in my left hand.

  Most people, humiliated in this fashion, would stop. Most would realize that they had been beaten, or certainly would be if they continued. His pride or possibly the fact that he was defending the honor of his nephew made his decision making ability a little cloudy.

  He took another swing with his left. It was a little faster than the previous attempt.

  I had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this.

  I lowered my shoulders, and leaned back and left. His swing went over my head. Instinctively, I pushed on his right hand as his body rotated to his right. As his face twisted with his body, the left side was fully exposed.

  As he twisted, I punched him in the jaw three times with my right hand as hard and as fast as I could. Immediately, he collapsed to his knees on the concrete floor.

  Out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed big boy number two quickly stand.

  “Sit down, Doc ain’t gonna hurt him,” Teddy said in a gruff tone.

  Big boy number two sat back down.

  “Let me help you up,” I said as I placed my hands under his arm pits, pulling him up to his feet.

  Normally, I wouldn’t have said a thing. I probably would have helped anyone else up quietly, and without any form of humiliation. I wanted him to know I was helping him up, remember it, and hear me say it.

  And I was just in a damned good mood.

  “God damn,” he said as he rubbed his jaw.

  “Didn’t see it coming, did ya?” I asked as I continued to hold him up.

  He shook his head slowly from side to side as he rubbed his jaw.

  “Neither did your nephew. Believe me now?” I asked, rubbing it in just a little more.

  He nodded.

  I shifted his body toward one of the stools at the side of the table where we were sitting earlier and lowered him into the seat. He relaxed and rubbed his jaw with his left hand as he sat.

  “Baby girl, go inside and get this man a mug of beer,” I said over my shoulder.

  Kelli stood behind with Heather. Her hand was over her mouth. She wasn’t covering a face of surprise, she was laughing. Heather followed her inside the restaurant.

  “Come over and sit down, we’re done,” I said toward the table where Teddy and the others were sitting.

  “So, what’s your name?” I asked, looking down at his now swollen jaw.

  “Brick, call me Brick,” he said as he looked up.

  “Alright Brick, I’m Doc, you know…and that’s Crash. We don’t call him Bear anymore, it’s Crash,” I said politely.

  He nodded, holding his jaw.

  The girls stepped onto the patio, each with their hands full of beer mugs.

  As they handed beers to everyone, Brick looked up and shook his head.

  “You didn’t blind-side him, did ya?” he asked.

  “No sir,” I responded.

  He nodded his head and took a sip of his beer.

  “Grab a seat,” I said to Kelli, motioning beside me.

  “You wanna guess what Doc did for the thirteen years he went to school to stay in shape?” Teddy laughed.

  Everyone looked in Teddy’s direction.

  “He boxed,” Teddy laughed as he took a sip of his beer.

  Brick looked up at me as he rubbed his jaw with his fingers.

  I nodded slowly and placed my hand on Kelli’s shoulder.

  “Put that mug on your jaw, boss. That’s one cold sum bitch. It’ll keep the swelling down. Like a god damned big ice cube,” Teddy said as he held his beer mug in the air.

  I looked around at the group. Everyone was sitting and drinking beer. The remaining three Great Plains riders were all talking.

  “Look, there’s no value whatsoever in saying anything about this to anyone, you agree?” I said, addressing the entire group.

  Brick looked up, “Seriously?”

  “Didn’t happen,” I said.

  “Didn’t happen,” Teddy repeated.

  “What about them?” Brick asked, motioning to the girls.

  “We should be able to trust them,” I said.

  I’m got a good feeling about one of them, anyway.

  KELLI. Sometimes, life offers us difficult decisions. Really, really tough ones. Not the decisions that may just be a challenge to make, but decisions that may have an effect on us for the rest of our lives. If the outcome associated with the decision is favorable, the end result is a celebration. If the outcome isn’t, the rest of your life may take an alternate course.

  When we’re presented with a decision like this, most people turn and walk away, or take the easy route. The path of least resistance. My father always told me to stand up for what I believed in, regardless of the potential cost. There were two things that he told me about character, and about making difficult decisions:

  “The decisions that we make in support of our character or moral fiber should never consider the potential outcome associated with the decision. We should only consider the amount of support that making the decision provides to our character or moral fiber.”

  “When it comes time to make a difficult decision, we are defined by the decisions that we make. When the collective wisdom of the universe says to shut up, yet you believe that it is time to stand up, stand up. The pride that you gain will fuel you for a lifetime, and your character will never again be in question.”

  “So will you do it?” I asked, my hands clasped into a prayer position in front of me.

  “Kelli, you realize what you’re asking me? What could happen?” Daddy asked.

  “Uh huh,” I said, hoping he would.

  He shook his head from side to side slowly.

  “You sure you want to do this? There’s no turning back if this works,” he reminded me.

  “I know daddy, I have to try. I have to,” I said, still pressing my palms together.

  He turned and walked into the kitchen. It is very uncommon to find someone with a home telephone anymore. Most use cell a phone, and have no need or desire to have a home telephone. My father was one of the exceptions. As he turned and walked into the kitchen, I sat down in my chair.

  He stood at the phone, with his hand on the receiver and looked at me. After a long, long time, he picked it up and dialed.

  “Chief, this is Gunner Parks. Hell, I don’t know three or four anyway. Great. Yes. She’s fine. As a matter of fact, it’s why I’m calling. Well, listen, there’s some things I need to tell you,” he said, facing
me with the phone to his ear.

  He turned his back to me and spoke quietly. The rest of the conversation was too soft for me to hear.

  As he walked back into the living room, he looked worried.

  “You love him, don’t you, baby?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Daddy, you have no idea. I don’t even…” I got choked up as I started talking.

  “I don’t even know how to describe it. I feel like if something happened to him, it would…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

  “Feel like you’d do anything for him?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Obviously, you’d lie to protect him, that’s apparent,” he stood over me, looking down.

  I looked down at the floor.

  “Look up here, baby, this is important,” he said in a demanding tone.

  I looked up into his eyes and began to cry.

  “You’ll lie to protect him, won’t you?” he asked again.

  I nodded and wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “To protect him and the club. Because you love him dearly,” he added.

  I nodded and wiped my nose on the back of my hand.

  “Wipe off those tears, baby and stand up,” he said.

  I stood up, and as I did, he wrapped his arms around me. As he held me, I shook. I shook from fear, and from being full of love. I wanted desperately to love Erik. To show him how much I loved him. I didn’t yearn as much to be loved as I did to provide love. I wanted to love Erik, and show my love for him as much as I could. I wanted to serve him and have him recognize my service. I wanted to love him, cook for him, learn how to bake, do his laundry, and have him be proud of me for doing what I did for him.

  All I wanted was for him to be proud of me.

  When he told me that he was proud, the words filled me. They filled me with a feeling that provided me with life. I could live off of that pride alone. Making the man I loved feel proud of me was all that I wanted from life.

  “Baby, I believe that there’s one person, and only one that were supposed to be with, that we’re supposed to love with all of our heart. We may find others, and we may not. When we find that one person, we know it. There were a few before your mother that I thought I loved. As soon as I met your mother, I knew that what I had before was nothing more than an inflated affection. Once we find love, there’s no question about what it is that we have. Love occupies your soul and becomes part of your being,” he paused and squeezed me in his arms.

  “Lying to protect the one that we love is a testament of the depth of our love for them. Lying is immoral, and not natural. It’s something that people like you and I will never do, normally speaking. But, to protect the one person that has our heart in their hands, we’ll sacrifice all that we hold dear to keep them from a moment of harm,” and my father began to cry into my shoulder.

  “Aw, shit. I’m sorry baby,” he said as he lifted his head and wiped his tears.

  “Well, you ready?” he asked.

  I nodded and wiped my tears.

  “I’ll wait here by the phone, just in case,” he said.

  Nervous, I grabbed my wristlet and walked toward the door.

  “I love you, baby,” he said, smiling.

  “Daddy, I love you. So much. Thank you,” I said as I grabbed the door handle.

  “Oh, damn. Almost forgot. His name’s Alec. Alec Jacob,” he said as I grabbed the handle.

  I nodded, “Okay, Alec Jacob, I’ll remember.

  “Baby,” he said as I opened the door.

  I turned around.

  “I’m proud of you, baby. Damned proud. Probably the proudest I’ve ever been,” he said.

  And I stepped through the threshold of the door a little taller than when I walked in.

  KELLI. “I already told you, because I had to work late,” I said again, mad that they kept asking the same questions.

  “And you’re certain that it was Monday?” he asked.

  I pressed my elbows on the table and looked up into his eyes, “One hundred percent, I’ve worked late one day this week.”

  “And the time, ma’am. How can you be certain about the time?” he paced back and forth across the room with his hands on his hips.

  “Well, he showed up at 7:30, I know that because my father had just walked in and said, ‘aren’t you supposed to go to dinner at 7:30?’. I looked at my watch, and while I was looking, Alec was beating on the door,” I answered.

  “And your father, was he standing there when you let Alec in?” he asked.

  “Yes. Yes he was,” I answered.

  “And then what happened?” he asked.

  “I already told you, his tire was low on air,” I responded.

  “We need more details, we need to go over this, and over it, and over it again, ma’am,” the detective said.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I want the truth. No more lies. I know you’re lying to protect the club,” he said as he slapped the table.

  “I don’t lie. And I don’t give a shit about any club. I don’t even know this guy. I’ve seen him once, maybe, besides the day he came in for air,” I said.

  “Okay, again, what happened, exactly?”

  I looked at the ceiling, like I was trying to recall the events of that night. I looked down at the table. I looked directly into the detectives eyes, and I lied.

  “He beat on the door. My father asked if I knew him. I told him it was a friend of my boy friend, Dr. Erik Ead. I went to the door to let him in. My father went back to his office. Alec came in and said his tire was low. I had him pull the bike back into the shop, and he did. I got a gauge, checked the tire pressure, and filled the tire with air. We went back into the office and sat and talked until I left to meet Erik. I left to meet Erik at 8:30. So, Mr. Jacob and I were at the shop…well, at the office together from 7:30 until 8:30,” I stopped and waited to see what he would say.

  “So, you filled the tire with air?” he asked.

  Here we go…

  “Yes,” I responded, and waited.

  “Why in the world would you fill a motorcycle tire with air when there was a perfectly good biker standing there?” he asked, his hands on his hips again.

  “Obviously you’ve never been a girl,” I said.

  “Not lately, answer the question, ma’am,” he said.

  “Being a girl isn’t easy, especially around men. They never accept you for being anything but a girl. I work at a car dealership, a dealership that my father wants me to be president of in a few years. Men don’t accept women in situations like that very well. My father has taught me to take charge, and to not be afraid of doing manly things in the shop. To show Alec that I was savvy about the shop tools, and mechanics, I wanted to do it. He asked me several times, and I said ‘no’, that I wanted to fill it,” I said, waiting for him to ask.

  I hoped he asked, and that I didn’t have to just offer it.

  “Okay, how low was the tire, what was the pressure?”

  Bingo.

  “Fifteen pounds, sir. Fifteen pounds,” I smiled as I looked up.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, get comfortable. You need a drink?” he asked.

  “No sir, I’m fine, thank you,” I responded.

  After about ten minutes, he walked back in the room, and seemed angry.

  “Alright ma’am, I have more questions. What tire, ma’am? What tire was low, front or rear?” he asked.

  “Rear,” I responded promptly.

  “You certain?” he asked.

  “Positive,” I responded.

  “Give me a few minutes,” he said.

  As he walked out, I crossed my fingers.

  And waited.

  He walked back into the room in just a few minutes. He stopped and the end of the table, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

  “I need your father’s phone number, I need to call him and ask a few questions,” he said.

  “Okay, he should be home,” I said, trying to
hide a smile.

  After I gave him the number, he left for quite a while. When he walked back in, he had papers in his hand. He seemed a little nicer when he sat down. This was the first time he sat since this started.

  “Kelli, I need you to fill this out. It’s a formal statement. It’s formal documentation of what you’ve told me this evening. Fill it out, and be as precise in your detail of this statement as you were in the verbal statement, okay?” he said as he looked up.

  I nodded.

  He handed me the paperwork and a pen.

  I filled out the paperwork and slid it across the table.

  “Well, that should do it, you’re free to go,” he said as he looked at the paperwork.

  I stood up and grabbed my wristlet.

  “Oh, the Chief said to tell your dad something,” he said as I was walking to the door.

  I turned and faced him.

  “He said thanks for the ride,” he said with a puzzled look.

  “He said your father would know what he was talking about,” he said as he shook his head.

  I shrugged my shoulders and walked out.

  About a foot taller.

  THE TRAIN. Life. Black and white. We have right, and we have wrong. There is no gray. Since I was a kid, I have stood for what I believed to be right. If I believed it, I stood up for it. Against one, or against a nation, I stood proud of what I believed. For what was right.

  War doesn’t make a man strong, nor does it weaken him. It transforms him. The person that we become when exposed to war is someone that we will remain being for as long as we live. There is no changing it, there is no turning back. We continue living, but we are amongst the dead. The few who are truly unable to truly feel real emotion.

  If you haven’t killed a man, it’s impossible to understand the mind of a man who has.

  The walking dead.

  “Fuck you.”

  “At approximately 8:00 pm, Mr. Jacob, where were you on the evening…”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Listen, we have someone here that claims you were somewhere with them. If you were, tell us the truth. But, if you weren’t, and this is a pack of lies, you’ll fry for the murder and fry for tampering with an ongoing investigation. You know the evidence we have is circumstantial. One thing we do have for certain is the time of day. If this is true, it’ll clear you in this investigation. I need you to cooperate.”