The snow had cleared when he hit the Potomac below Harper’s Ferry and walked the bike across the slick bridge. By the time he reached the outskirts of Frederick Maryland and rolled up the street to Miss Ann’s place he was nearly frozen solid, the hat actually frozen to his bald scarred lumped-up head. There were two cop cars; one on the street and one in the drive. Miss Ann, Diane and White Ash were on the porch. Mister Jack was standing at the base of the stairs. All four of his friends were watching with pain-filled looks as a tall thin man about 45-years-old was being handcuffed on the front lawn by two big redneck cops.
That must be Little Joey. Poor Miss Ann, I bet that dummy ain’t been out a day.
Jay was walking up the sidewalk toward Jack as the largest cop dragged the man by him. He waved to Miss Ann. “Hey Miss Ann.”
While she was mumbling, “Hi Baby Boy,” Little Joey spit in his direction.
Wow. What’s that about?
“Hey Joey. Have a nice night Bro.”
Just then the smaller cop, about Jay’s size, got in his face. “Are you an associate of his—his meth-connection? I know you bikers are bringing this shit out of Jersey…”
Jack to the rescue.
Mister Jack approached as Joey’s head was being banged against the doorframe of the cruiser, addressing the officer as if they were friends, “Hey Al this is Jay, one of my fighters. He trains in my basement when he’s in town between fights. Jay, this is Al Purvis, a good friend of mine.”
Jay extended his hand and Al took it. “Nice ta meet ya Officer Purvis.”
Al actually shined his penlight into Jay’s face. “Good evening Jay, it looks like you just had a pretty recent tussle.”
“Yessir, had a fight outside of Vegas three days ago.”
Jack’s hand was comfortably on his shoulder and Al was putting his light away.
“Hey Jay, I have a pair of MMA gloves I just bought for my son—he’s a big fight fan. I was wondering if you could autograph them.”
After Jay autographed the gloves Al took down his name and wanted to know how he could see a video of his fight. Jay directed him to ‘ironhorde-dot-net’ and told him to click on the ‘pudgecast’ link.
After another round of handshakes Jay was inside on the couch between Miss Ann and White Ash—the pretty Seneca nun he had brought forward a few weeks back after she was gang raped by a war party of Mahican braves in 1624—while Miss Diane checked his stitches and treated his swollen face for frostbite.
“Jesus Jack his eyes are mere slits. This can’t be good for him getting his face battered like this.”
Jack was nonchalant. “He’ll be just fine. I’d say he has a very well designed skull there.”
Miss Ann then chimed in, “You know Baby Boy you are the spitting image of Yul Brynner. White Ash and I have been watching all of his movies: The Magnificent Seven, Catlow, The Ten Commandments. Tonight we’re watching The King and I. Jack, what about that one—I think it was with Tony Curtis—where he plays an Indian chief? Now that is the spitting image of my Baby Boy here if I ever…”
White Ash was then kissing him on the lips—what? She’s a raped nun—and Diane was commenting as she stepped back, “Now that’s what I’m talking about—remember those days Jack?”
Miss Ann was then getting up off the couch. “That’s my Baby Boy. Action Bracken is quite a ladies’ man I’d say. Jack, Diane, now that Little Joey is safely back in prison again let’s go play some Five-thousand Rummy while these two lovebirds get reacquainted.”
As the three older people went into the kitchen he began returning the kisses and it felt good—then all Hell broke loose as Miss Ann let her three ornery lapdogs up out of the basement. Before he knew it Johnny Cash was yipping at him, Charlie the Outlaw was gnawing on his elbow, and Ojay was humping his ankle. White Ash cracked a wide smile. “And it seems I will have to fight Ojay for my husband!”
Husband? Whoa dummy—status check!
Shoot, Tina just divorced you and tried to kill you at the same time. Duty just dumped you and this chick…whoa boy. Na, na, naw…
White Ash was then looking at him as if she had looked into the mirror for the first time and suddenly discovered she was ugly. "So I do not please you? You have taller, more beautiful Sunset women no doubt—women with hair like sun-fire!”
“Naw dats not it. Iz jus’ you been raped only a month er so back. I wouldn’t figure you’d want a man at all—juz saprized is all—you a fine girl.”
She pulled her hair back and smoothed her pink dress. “I am a nun no more, and must surely soon find that I am pregnant. I would rather you claim the child within me as you did the unborn orphan of Fierce Woman and her slain husband; like the Good River claimed the rape-baby of Green Duck after you ate the Raccoon Men. You are like a fox to mice above the men who raped me. Your seed would overcome theirs’ within me, and my baby will have a strong father—one father, a father known to her. Take me up to my bed DeathSong…”
Her breath was hot and quick as she shooed Charlie the Outlaw away and kicked Ojay across the living room. “Conquer the bitter shadows within me Far Slayer of the Sunset World!”
He could hear Miss Ann squeaking, “Queen of Spades is worth fifty points. Shuffle them good Jack—how about some of that Tuaca Diane.”
He stood and tossed White Ash over his shoulder and the dogs sat back and whined and whimpered.
Later boys.
Behind the Sunset Veil in Print
