7: A Quiet Celebration
"To a caring brother and loyal friend," John's email began.
"That salutation has to have been the hardest line I've ever had to write, Virgil. Harder to compose than anything I've written in my books," Virgil noted the plural. Clearly John had started writing a second. "This email has been sitting on my computer in draft form since long before I got up here to the space station. I'd sit down, read what I'd already written, think 'what a load of nonsense', re-write it all and then have to save it again when I was called away. I've been trying to think of the words to adequately express the relief I feel that you're my friend, the gratitude for the support that you've given me, and the affection that I have for you. But every phrase I've written has seemed trite, condescending and shallow… It still does, but I don't mean it to be. I mean every word.
"You've probably been thinking that I don't care any more, that all my bitterness and anger has been unfairly and squarely directly at you, but I want… no, I need you to know, that this is not the case. I've been trying to tell you this for the past month. I'd ring you at home, but our lives are so busy at the moment that we never seemed to connect. I know I could have left a message on your voicemail, but I wanted to speak to you personally. It's too late for that now and I know that email is a poor second best, but at this juncture that's all I have available to me.
When I received your email on Monday and saw the uncertainty in it I wondered if I'd done irreparable damage to our relationship. But then I received the picture you'd drawn and I knew that you were reaching out to me in the best way you could. It was that then I knew I had to act... But even so it still took me three days to get together something halfway respectable. I'm still not happy with what I've written, but at least it will give you some idea of the shame I feel.
"I was going to 'bite the bullet' and apologise in front of the whole family at that final goodbye before I came up here, but then Tracey…" Virgil felt his pulse quicken at the name, hopeful that he would learn something, "…arrived and I lost the opportunity. As much as I care for her, I couldn't say what needed to be said in front of her… it would have been hard enough to say in front of the rest of our family.
"And so I've decided that it's time to stop running away from my responsibilities. You deserve an apology and I am going to give you one. It may not be what I envisaged, it may not sound sincere, but I mean it completely.
"I am sorry, Virgil. I am sorry for what I said to you. I am sorry for what I said about you. I am sorry for what I said about our family. I am acutely sorry for all the defamatory things I said about Dad.
"I didn't mean one word of what I said. I've never felt that way about anyone, especially no one in our family. ( I keep on writing my family, but then I have to go back and change it to our family, and I wouldn't have it any other way, because I love you as I love them all. You are my family and I wouldn't choose to be part of anyone else's.)
"I have no real excuse for what I said. At the time it seemed that everything was happening at once, my life was being turned upside-down, and I was losing control. What with my book launch, Tracey's pregnancy," another unanswered allusion, "my pending flight to the space station, and IR; I was feeling pulled in all directions and that no one was considering me and what I wanted or needed… I suppose that sounds selfish."
Virgil didn't think it sounded selfish. He thought it sounded like a cry for help.
"Well, there's no easy way of saying it, so here it is…
"Virgil. I am sorry. I am sorry for any pain or discomfort I caused you."
Virgil took a break from reading to re-evaluate what had been said. He felt happier now. He hadn't realised the heavy burden he'd been carrying about with him. Events that had happened in the interim had pushed the stresses of that phone call to the background, but still, not knowing what was going on in John's mind had been wearing him down. He'd often heard of people feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off their shoulders, and now he understood what they meant.
The rest of the email related John's experiences so far, with humorous recounts of the rocket flight and events on the space station, and Virgil could only admire and envy his brother's eloquence. But despite all that there was no further mention of Tracey or the baby and no hint as to John's intentions with regards to International Rescue.
"As you may have guessed, I have started writing another book. I've learnt a lot since the first one and believe that number two will be even better. But what would make it perfect would be for you to agree to provide the illustration for the cover."
Virgil blinked. Illustration? For the cover!? He'd never thought that his artwork could ever be considered good enough for publication. This would take some serious thought and a lot of discussion with John.
"I've printed off the picture you've emailed me and it now hangs in pride of place above my bed, while an electronic copy is the wallpaper on my computer. Several of the other guys have asked for copies for themselves, but I'm being selfish for once. You drew this for me and I'm keeping it for me.
"Well… The send button for this email should have been pressed weeks ago so I'd better dispatch this before another day passes.
"Keep well and safe.
"Your loving brother.
"John"
Virgil took the time to re-read the email again, before forwarding a judiciously edited copy to his father. Then he pressed reply and sent an email in return, telling John about the Crumps and Grandma's visit last Sunday, and the drama of earlier today… He checked the time. Yesterday.
When the email was finished he fell into bed, grateful that he did not have to go into work that day.
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
"Virgil! Bruce!" The voice echoed in the still factory.
Both men turned and smiled when they heard the call. "Lisa!"
"How are you, Honey?" Virgil asked. He'd visited her at the hospital a couple of times, but today, the Monday after she'd been struck down, was the first day that Lisa Crump had returned to work.
Her skin still looked dry, and her eyes red, her husband was hovering at her side as if he expected her to evaporate into a cloud of dust, but apart from that her beauty hadn't diminished. "I'm fine. The doctors said I could take a couple more days off, but I want everything to get back to normal as soon as possible."
Bruce's grin was stretched from ear-to ear. "Get straight back onto the ol' bike, huh?"
She favoured him with one of her dazzling smiles. "Yes. Plus I know that he," she gave Butch an affectionate poke in the side, "would do nothing but fret if he couldn't keep an eye on me. So I'm back at work, on light duties."
"It's good to see your back," Virgil said.
"Yeah. And there's nothing wrong with your front either," Bruce teased and then held up his hands in mock surrender. "Joke, big guy," he informed Butch, who favoured him with an indulgent smile.
Lisa laughed. "We're glad we caught the pair of you before work, because we have something to ask you." She nudged her husband. "Go on."
"Okay…" Butch looked somewhat bashful. "It's our fifth wedding anniversary on the 25th. We're havin' a party 'n we'd like you both to come. Seein' as if'n it wasn't for you two we wouldn't be havin' a party."
Virgil felt a huge smile blossom over his face. "Sounds great! I'd love to come."
"Yeah," Bruce added. "Me too. Do you want us to bring anything?"
"No," Lisa smiled. "It's all on the invitations which I've stupidly left in Butch's bag. Butch honey, would you go and get them?" Looking like a puppy who'd been given a treat, Butch bounded away and Lisa watched him go before turning back. "Now, while we've got a moment alone, can I give you guys some advice? Normally I'd say bring a girlfriend if you want, but some of Butch's friends are coming and they are… well… let's say they're not gentlemen. I can handle them, but unless your lady friends are like me and," she smirked, "like 'a bit of rough', I wouldn't invite them along."
Bruce saluted. "Understood, Ma'am." He batted his eyelashes at Virgil. "You and I can go as partners for the evening."
Butch returned, holding out two envelopes. "Here'ya're. It's gonna be a great evenin'."
"I'm sure it will," Virgil remarked, accepting his invitation.
"Actually, Virgil," Lisa said, and to his surprise she seemed unsure of herself. "You've done so much for us that it seems a bit cheeky to ask you this, but we were wondering if you would consider playing our song for us, on the piano."
"It would be my pleasure," Virgil responded. "That's if I know it."
"You know it. Heard you play it," Butch informed him and, suddenly, inexplicably shy, dug his toe into the concrete floor. "Love Overcomes all," he muttered and glared at Bruce as if daring him to laugh.
"Nice song," Bruce said quickly.
"It was one of my mother's favourites," Virgil admitted. It always brought back memories and he'd only played it when he thought no one was listening.
Lisa must have heard the catch of sadness in his voice as she laid her hand on his arm. "Are you sure, Virgil? We don't want to impose."
"No," Virgil smiled at her. "It'd be an honour to play it for you."
The hooter, calling them to work, sounded and Bruce heaved a dramatic sigh. "Back to the daily grind of yet another uneventful week at ACE. Don't forget, Lisa, you've still got to show us the right way to replenish that welder." He winked at her and she burst out laughing.
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
"Virgil…" Lisa Crump caught him by the arm as they headed towards the canteen for their morning tea break.
He smiled at her. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm about to impose again I'm afraid. I wouldn't bother you, but I don't know who else I can turn to."
Virgil frowned. "This sounds ominous. Is everything all right?"
Lisa gave a light laugh, alleviating his fears somewhat. "Everything's fine… And I want to keep it that way."
"Then how can I help?"
"This isn't the time. Can I meet you at your place after work?"
Virgil gave her a sideways look. "After what happened last time, I'm not sure that's a good idea. I don't have Grandma and her handbag to bail me out if Butch gets the wrong idea again."
"Don't worry. As far as you and I are concerned he thinks you're beyond reproach. I've told him that I'm going to ask you to play more pieces for us and I want to work through the programme with you."
"But that's not the real reason?"
"I'll explain it later. Your place at 4.30?"
---I-R---
--F-A-B---
Virgil had only just made it home in time to hide all evidence of his father and to tidy up a little before Lisa arrived. He made them a coffee and then took a seat opposite her. "Okay. What's the big mystery that I can help you with?"
Lisa bit her lip as she considered how to begin. "It's like this… You've probably noticed that Butch and I are somewhat of a… shall we say… unlikely couple?"
Virgil gave a wry grin. "I should think that everyone would regard you as a kind of 'Beauty and the Beast' combo… Until you get to know Butch."
"And now you know what he's really like?"
"I think I've got a better idea now, than I did when I first started at ACE." Virgil chuckled. "Grandma thinks he's a big pussycat."
"Your grandmother is a very astute woman," Lisa smiled. "Unfortunately my family are unwilling to see past the façade that Butch has put up. They think I've made a terrible mistake and that I'm throwing my life away on him." She took a breath. "My parents envisaged me being a famous model, having a successful career, marrying a doctor or a lawyer… Or maybe someone handsome, with tons of money, but absolutely no personality, like one of Jeff Tracy's sons…"
Virgil choked on his coffee.
"Are you all right?" she asked in concern, patting him on the back as his coughing fit continued.
"Yes," he managed to gasp. "I'm okay…" He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. So you've met them have you?"
"Who?"
"Jeff Tracy's sons."
"Oh, them!" Lisa gave a dismissive wave with her hand. "No. But I know the type. Never had to work a day in their lives and had everything handed to them on a plate."
"I met Mr Tracy the day you had your accident," Virgil informed her, phrasing his words with care. "He didn't seem to be the kind of man who'd spoil his sons. And he was telling us how hard he had to work to build up his empire and how the years after his wife died were a struggle."
"Well… Maybe Jeff Tracy's a bad example," Lisa conceded. "But you know the sort I mean."
Virgil had met that 'sort' and knew exactly what she meant. "So, getting back to the subject in hand… Your parents didn't take to Butch?"
"No…" Lisa went quiet, cradling her untouched cup in her hands. "They told me that if I continued my relationship with Butch it would either be him or them." She looked up at Virgil and he saw tears in her eyes. "They disowned me."
"Oh, heck." Virgil sat back. He couldn't imagine loving someone so much that he'd give up his family to be with them… But then again, he couldn't imagine his family taking such an inflexible stance. "That must be hard."
Lisa gave a delicate sniff. "It has been. I love Butch, but I still love them. They're…" another sniff. "They're my family."
"I can understand that."
"Up till now I've thought, right! If that's the way you feel, then fine. I can live without you… But then I had my accident…" Lisa wiped her eyes. "My mother came to visit me in hospital and I realised how much I miss them. I think they had as much of a fright as Butch and I did, so they've agreed to come to the party."
Virgil smiled at her. "Well, that's positive."
Lisa managed a smile in reply. "I want this anniversary to go smoothly so that they can see the real, wonderful, caring Butch… And that's where you come in."
Acutely curious as to what she thought he could do to help, Virgil said nothing.
"As your grandma said, Butch is a big pussycat, but he's made mistakes in his past. He was influenced by his family and some of his 'friends'. I'd rather they weren't there, but if my family's coming then I can't very well tell him not to invite his. And I've let him invite three of the senior members of his old gang for 'old time's sake', but they're the only ones allowed at the party and they're only allowed to come if they behave themselves."
"Gang?"
"Yes." Lisa nodded. "The Skulz."
Virgil didn't like the sound of that and was beginning to grow wary. "So… What do you want me to do?"
"Hopefully nothing. But I saw the way you handled Butch, with no fuss and no harm to either of you. Could you keep an eye on things and make sure it all goes smoothly?" Lisa looked at Virgil with pleading eyes. "Please?"
Virgil wasn't sure he was hearing right. "You want me to be the pianist and the bouncer?"
"Not so much bouncer. But if you could keep your eyes open and try to diffuse any trouble before it starts, even if it means quietly calling the police, I'd be eternally grateful." Lisa looked grim. "I've told Butch that if there's any trouble, I'm leaving him."
Virgil was aghast. "You don't mean that, do you?"
He was horrified to see the tears welling up in her eyes again. "I do. I'm serious! He's got to realise once and for all that his old gang life is in the past and that I'm not a part of that scene. I've given up my family these last five years and I don't want to have to do it again, but it will happen if he's still involved with the Skulz. So," she heaved a shuddering sigh and wiped her eyes. "I've told him that either I'm the centre of his world with both our families revolving around us, or I'm not there at all."
"Lisa, you've only got to look at the way that Butch idolises you to know that you're more important than anything else to him. If you'd died I hate to think what he would have done."
"I'm not denying that he loves me. I just want him to realise that I can't be part of a world of violence and drugs and crime."
"How deeply was he involved?" Virgil asked, still wary.
"Only on the fringes. He hadn't earned his patch when he met me, but, up until then, being a full member of the Skulz like his family had been, was his only dream and I'm frightened that he's still holding onto that dream."
Acting as a security guard was not how Virgil had envisaged spending the night. "Lisa, look I…"
"Please, Virgil…" She placed her hand on his. "There's no one else I can ask. Imagine Butch's reaction if I asked a member of my family to do this. And there's no one in his family that I'd dare to ask. You're the only person that I trust."
Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair, wondering what he was letting himself in for. "I won't have to get into any physical confrontations?"
Lisa gave an emphatic shake to her head. "No. Butch assures me that his friends will behave themselves. You're my insurance policy."
"Well, I hope I don't have to pay out." Virgil nodded. "Okay. I'll keep my eyes open."
Lisa beamed up at him. "Thank you."
But Virgil was wondering what he had let himself in for.
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
He was still thinking that at lunchtime the following day when he heard Butch call his name.
Virgil gave a quiet groan as he turned. He was beginning to get sick of the Crumps. "Hi, Butch."
"Hiya, Buddy," Butch gave him an affectionate but overpowering punch on the arm and Virgil hoped that that was the only bruise that he'd receive from anyone connected with the Crump family. "Can I ask ya a favour?"
Virgil just managed to suppress the second groan. "Depends what it is, Butch."
"Lisa saw ya yesterday about you playin' some music at our party."
Virgil nodded. After the initial disquieting conversation, he and Lisa and picked out a few easy listening pieces that he could play; as much to justify Lisa's visit as anything. "A couple."
"Wouldcha mind playin' one more?"
This sounded more in his line. "Sure," Virgil replied. "Which one?"
"Somethin' Good."
"Somethin' Good," Virgil repeated. "I don't know that one. Who performs it?" Butch mumbled something. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Who?"
"Me."
Virgil stared at his friend. "Huh?"
"I wanna sing it… I wanna sing it for Lisa."
"Oh…" Nonplussed for a moment, Virgil froze in thought. "You want to sing it for Lisa? In front of everyone?"
Butch nodded, his normal brash persona disappearing behind a shy caricature of himself. "Lisa likes it when I sing."
Virgil had gathered his wits together. "I can understand why. I heard you sing to her the other day. You're good."
Butch looked even more bashful. "Thanks."
"Who was the original performer of Somethin' Good?"
"Maria an' the Captain."
Virgil frowned, trying to place the duo. "I don't think I know them. Can you hum it?"
"'Kay." Butch looked about to check that no one was within earshot before he began to sing…
"Perhaps I had a wicked childhood
Perhaps I had a miserable youth
But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past
There must have been a moment of truth"
Virgil's jaw dropped open. "That Something Good!? From the Sound of Music?!"
Butch nodded. "Yeah. It's Lisa's favourite."
Virgil only just managed to stop himself from shaking his head to clear it. "Okay… I know that one. Do you want to get a couple of rehearsals in before the big night?"
Butch nodded, suddenly eager. "Can I come round t' your place tonight?"
Virgil sighed. Another night with the Crumps.
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
Virgil pulled up outside Bruce's and honked the car's horn. He'd spent a long time deciding what he was going to wear tonight. Not out of any sense of vanity, but a need to look presentable while still wearing something in which he could move easily in should the worst become the worst. In his mind the Boy Scout motto, be prepared, had a lot going for it.
Much to his disappointment Bruce didn't waste any time leaving the house and jumping into his car.
"Evenin'" Bruce said brightly.
"Are you in a hurry to get there?" Virgil asked. "I thought you'd be hours yet."
"Nope. But I know you're keen to get the lay of the land." Bruce grinned.
"Thanks." Virgil's dour tone matched his mood.
"Hey! Cheer up!" Bruce cajoled. "It might not happen…"
"Yeah…"
"Then again the entire membership of the Skulz might turn up to reclaim their prodigal son."
Virgil glared at him. "You're a real comfort." He continued to moan as Bruce did up his seat belt. "Why'd she have to choose me? I've never picked a fight in my life!"
"She picked you because you've never picked a fight. She trusts you to not go in with all guns blazing."
"Yeah… Well…" Virgil agreed grudgingly. "I just know that Gordon's coming home in two weeks and I'd like to live long enough to see him again."
Bruce laughed. "Relax! If anything happens I'll be right behind you…"
"Thanks."
"…Running in the opposite direction."
"Do you want to start by walking there!?"
"Okay, okay. Peace." Bruce held up his hands in surrender. "Boy! You're in a real 'party' mood tonight."
"You're surprised?" Virgil switched on the car's ignition. "I work in a mental asylum and the worst inmates all want to be my friends!"
"Relax, Virgil," Bruce soothed, suddenly serious. "You're only imagining the worst. There might be no trouble whatsoever."
"I hope so." Virgil hummed a tune and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he set the car in motion.
"What's the song?"
"Huh? Oh… Something I was playing…" Virgil pushed the play button on his sound system.
"…This is the craziest party there could ever be
Don't turn on the lights, 'cause I don't want to see…
Mama told me not to come…"
"I wish Ma was here to tell me not to go," Virgil admitted. "I'd be more than happy to listen to her." He glanced upwards through the windscreen. "Send me a sign, Ma."
Butch laughed. "If your Mama's watching over you, I hope she'll keep an eye on me too..." He listened to the lyrics. "Is there anything you can't put to music?"
Virgil actually smiled.
Both men were singing "Mama told me not to come" when they pulled up at the small hall that was to be the venue for the Crump's 5th wedding anniversary party. Still following the Boy Scouts' motto, Virgil parked so that he could make a quick getaway if necessary. "Are you getting ready in case you'll need to convert this to an ambulance?" Bruce asked as he exited the car. "Maybe you should fit some jets so that you can take off vertically if you get hemmed in?"
For some reason Virgil found that very funny. He reached behind his seat and pulled out a flask.
Bruce gave it a sideways look. "Some of Grandma's magic potion, huh?"
Virgil nodded. "I won't take it in, but I wanted something on hand that I knew was safe."
"You're the king of the optimists."
"Virgil! Bruce!" Lisa rushed out into the car park, extending her hands to greet them. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Not as glad as we are that you're here." Virgil winked at her. "I wanted to get here early to make sure that the piano was tuned up."
"Give us a spin, Lisa," Bruce made a twirling motion with his finger and she obliged. Tonight, wearing just enough makeup to highlight her beauty, and a torso-hugging, strapless, Flamenco style, crimson dress that flowed out, revealing perfect legs when she spun about, she looked even more like a model than usual. "Wow! You look fantastic. If you ever decide to dump your husband, give me a call… You're a lucky guy, Butch," he added when the big man, looking relatively handsome in his suit, ambled over. "Just as well most of the guys from ACE aren't here drooling over your wife. You'd have to keep mopping up the floor to stop the rellies from slipping over…" Butch gave a smile of quiet pride as he hugged Lisa.
"You do look lovely, Lisa," Virgil agreed. "Five years of marriage to Butch obviously suits you."
Her smile broadened and she squeezed her husband about the waist. "I know. I'm very lucky. Why don't you get Bruce a drink, Honey, and I'll show Virgil the piano."
"Okay." The two men moved off; Bruce humming "Mama told me not to come".
"What's the programme?" Virgil asked as Lisa led the way into the hall.
"Half an hour to give everyone a chance to meet and greet, then we'll have the meal. An hour for that and then the tables will be cleared away. We've hired the local sports club to act as waiters. While the tables are being moved is when we'd like you to play those pieces we discussed. I hope you don't mind, but there will be some noise as the furniture's moved, but we thought your piano playing would help keep things ticking over during the interruption. Once you've played the four pieces that we agreed on…"
"Five," Virgil thought. "That would be a good time for Butch to sing his love song."
"…they should have finished clearing up. Then you play 'Love Overcomes all'." And then you can relax for the rest of the evening."
"I hope," Virgil said, and then wished he hadn't. "Sorry. Any word from any of Butch's ex-associates?"
"No." Lisa appeared to be trying to remain bright and cheerful. "Here's the piano," she added as if he'd never seen one before.
Virgil lifted the lid and ran a set of scales up the keys. "It's usable." He found one note that was slightly out of tune. "That needs fixing."
Lisa looked at him with a worried frown creasing her pretty face. "Can you do anything?"
"I thought I might have a few problems…"
"Hey, guys," Bruce wandered over, carrying two glasses of orange juice, one of which he handed to Virgil. "What's up?"
"The piano needs a tune, so I'm going to get my tools out of the car," Virgil told him.
"I'll leave you boys to take care of that," Lisa said. "I'm going to check on the food preparations."
"While we case the joint," Bruce whispered as he watched her walk away. "Have you really got piano tuning tools in your car?"
"Yep." Virgil smiled. "I like to be prepared."
"Boy Scout."
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
The first part of the evening went well. Virgil and Bruce were introduced as the two heroes who had saved Lisa's life. They were gushed over by Lisa's relatives and treated with deference by Butch's family and friends, who had taken the request to try to act respectable to heart. They were all wearing their cleanest clothes, some of which appeared to have been obtained from the local second-hand shop. They also had bathed and attempted to tame their wild hair. In some parts of the room the smell of aftershave was almost overpowering.
One of Lisa's young nephews was wandering around, a video camera glued to his eye and Virgil called him over. "That's a pretty fancy bit of equipment you've got there, Pal."
"Yeah," the boy, whom Virgil assumed to be about ten, beamed up at him. "My parents gave it to me for my birthday."
"You're lucky," Virgil enthused. "What's your name?"
"Jacob."
"I'll bet you're a real pro at editing the final video too, aren't you, Jacob?"
"Yeah," Jacob nodded. "I've got all the gear. Dad said I can upload it to the Internet when I've finished, so that everyone can see it. "
"That's great. And you can do fancy effects? Fades and all that?"
"Yep," the youngster grinned. "No sweat."
"Then would you do me a favour, Jacob?" Virgil asked. "I know it sounds silly, but I hate being videoed. I'm not going to stop you because I think Lisa and Butch would love to have a record of tonight. But when you make copies, and upload it to the Internet, can you hide my face like they do in the news?"
"Huh?" The kid stared at him.
"I'm sure that someone as clever as you won't find it any trouble." Virgil reached into his wallet and pulled out a note. "That'll help you remember to wipe me from the video."
Jacob hesitated, looked at the money in Virgil's hand, and then grinned. "Sure! I can do that for you."
"Good man." Virgil patted him on the shoulder.
"What's this?" Bruce said, having returned from the drinks table. "Bribing innocent youngsters?
"Jacob and I have done a deal," Virgil explained. "Right, Pal?"
"Right," Jacob nodded. "Maybe I'll wipe Butch from the video too."
"Why would you want to do that?" Bruce asked, taking a seat.
"'Cause he's 'scuzzy'. Dad says so. Ma says Aunty Lisa's asking for trouble marrying him."
"Scuzzy?" Virgil stared at the boy.
"I'll tell you something, Jacob," Bruce said. "I used to think that Butch was pretty 'scuzzy' too."
Jacob looked up at him in wonder. "You did?"
"Yeah. He frightened me and I thought he was kinda weird with all those 'tats' and things. But do you know something?" Bruce leant closer to Jacob. "I never actually tried to get to know him. I never tried to have a conversation with him to find out what he was really like… Do you like cars?"
"Yeah?" Jacob replied, confused by Bruce's apparent change of direction.
"So do I. And so does Butch. Did you know he's got a Red-Arrow sportster?"
"He has?!" A light appeared to switch on in Jacob's eyes.
"He has," Bruce confirmed. "When I found this out I took the time to sit down and talk to Butch about his Red-Arrow. And do you know what I found out?"
"No?" Jacob's eyes were wide.
"That he's actually a pretty interesting guy," Bruce stated. "And I think he's quite shy too…"
"Butch?" Jacob's wide eyes turned to their subject, who was hanging onto Lisa with a goofy smile. She was talking to one of her relatives, but he was saying nothing.
"Yeah. Butch."
"Do you think he'd talk to me about his Red-Arrow?"
"I'm sure he would if you asked him. He might let you video it. He might even take you for a ride in it. Now that would make an awesome video."
"Yeah!" Jacob agreed. "It would. 'Scuse me." He took off at a run to Butch and said something to the big man. Bruce and Virgil watched as Butch turned, crouched down to listen to the boy and then nodded, his face lighting up.
Virgil gave Bruce a playful punch on the arm. "Nice one."
"Thanks. Always willing to do my bit for inter-familial relations."
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
The meal was over.
"So far so good," Bruce commented as he followed Virgil over to the piano. "Want me to turn the pages?"
"Can you read music?"
"No."
"No, thanks."
The first two numbers were punctuated with a percussion of bangs and scrapes as the youthful members of the sports club removed first the dishes, and then the tables. Virgil carried on playing tune number three and then segued into the fourth. He winked at Butch to let him know that he was on next.
The proud husband escorted Lisa out onto the dance floor. Expecting the opening strains of Love Overcomes all, she was instead surprised to hear a different tune. She was even more astonished, and delighted, when Butch placed his hands about her waist, picked her up, and placed her on a stool.
"Lisa…" Butch began, holding her hands and gazing up at her with rapturous adoration. "My Liesl… I don' deserve someone as beautiful as you, but f' five years you' stood nexta me, an' cared for me, and loved me. I'm a lucky man, Liesl… an' I don't know why…" He began to sing; his rich baritone and Virgil's piano filling the hall.
"…For here you are, standing there, loving me
Whether or not you should
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good…"
Lisa stood on her pedestal, entranced by this declaration of love, tears of joy on her cheeks. As the last notes tailed off, Butch tenderly lifted her off the stool, "I love you, Lisa."
"I love you too," Lisa embraced her husband. "Thank you."
The hall erupted into cheers and applause and Virgil began playing Love Overcomes all as they kissed. The noise was so loud that he almost didn't hear Bruce's "Uh oh."
Virgil glanced at the guests of honour in time to see them both look towards the door; Lisa's face falling, while Butch's lit up in delight. Twisting around on the piano stool, Virgil saw why.
Standing at the door to the hall, clapping in a slow rhythm which suggested irony rather than appreciation, were a group of bikers.
"Looks like you're on," Butch whispered.
That thought had gone through Virgil's mind too. He stood and, trying to remain pleasant and non-threatening, approached the interlopers. As he drew close he gained a new appreciation of deodorant and aftershave, as these visitors had made no effort to dress, or wash, for the occasion. "Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked, plastering a smile on his face.
"We're 'ere to congratulate Butch an' his misses," one of them, their leader, stated.
"This is a private party," Virgil continued gamely. "Do you have invitations?"
"Don't he talk nice?" An underling sneered.
"This is my invitayshun." Leader punched his right fist into his left hand. "Outta my way." He pushed Virgil aside, giving him a clear view of the scowling skull on the back of his leather jacket, and marched over to the Crumps. But, before he could reach his goal, he was intercepted by his three, invited, colleagues.
"Get outta here, Muzz," the eldest said. "You're not welcome."
"Sez who?"
"Sez us," invitee number two claimed.
Muzz leered over their shoulders to where Butch and Lisa were standing. "Hiya, Babe." His eyes roved over her body and Lisa shrunk back to hide behind her husband.
"That's enough, Muzz," invitee number one stated. "Get out."
"But the party's only just started," Muzz sneered. "I wanna dance with the luvli Lisa."
"Come outside." Butch stepped forward and shared a gangland handshake with Muzz. "We'll talk there."
Virgil saw Lisa, looking mortified at what was happening, turn away from her husband. The Skulz and Butch, talking with much enthusiasm and not much decorum, headed out to the car park. Thinking that this probably wasn't the brightest thing he was ever going to do, Virgil followed, stopping just inside the front door so he could spy on events outside.
A crowd of patched gang members were lolling about in the yard. One was sitting on the bonnet of Virgil's car, drumming his heels against the side. Some were drinking, some were talking to their friends, and some were passing about something that Virgil was pretty sure wasn't legal. He put through a precautionary phone call through to the police.
…And then jumped when someone came up behind him. "Trouble?" Bruce asked.
"Not yet. And not if I can help it."
"I'm right behind you, Virgil."
"Thanks, Bruce."
"Virgil." Virgil turned to Lisa who appeared to be trying to hold back tears. "You won't let them do anything, will you?"
Virgil gestured to the gang of Skulz congregating outside around their motorbikes. "There must be at least 20 of them, Lisa."
"At least get Butch out of there," she pleaded.
Virgil sighed. "I'll do my best." He stepped out into the cold glow of the street lights, wishing that he had his four muscular brothers as backup. Not a skinny friend humming "Mama told me not to come".
Muzz nudged Butch. "Here's ya tame poodle, Bro. I hope ya can stop 'is yappin'. Otherwise we'll 'ave to muzzle 'im."
Years of teasing from his brothers had made Virgil immune to such taunts. "I'm just here to tell you fellas that I've called the police and they're on their way. We don't want any trouble."
"Police?" Butch looked hurt. "But these guys won't cause trouble. Will ya, Muzz? They're my friends."
"If they are your friends, Butch, then they'll leave straight away. And once they're gone I'll call the police off." Virgil held up his mobile phone. "How about it?"
"How about we show you what we think of ya fancy phone?" Muzz asked and snatched the mobile out of Virgil's hand. One steel-pointed toe, jack-booted heel later, and the delicate electronics lay scrunched into the concrete of the car park.
"That wasn't very clever," Virgil said. "I can't stop the police now."
"Why'd you call the police, Virgil?" Butch whined. "M' pals just wanted to wish me an' Lisa happy anniversary."
"Virgil?" Muzz barked out a laugh and his cronies obediently joined in. "What kinda name is 'Virgil'? Jus' the kinda name I'd 'xpect a poodle like ya to 'ave."
Virgil ignored him. "The police will be here soon. Are you going to leave now or spoil Butch's party by creating a scene?"
"Whad is it, Butch?" Muzz asked. "Ya gonna listen to the poodle or to me?"
Caught between his loyalties to his old friends and his new one, Butch hesitated.
As one, the Skulz took a menacing step forwards, their focus on Virgil; who wished the police would hurry up and get there.
Lisa stepped out of the hall. "Butch," she called. "Will you come inside, please?"
There were catcalls from the Skulz. "Why don' ya come out 'n join us, Lisa?" Muzz leered. "We'll show ya a real good time… Right, Boys?" His subordinates laughed but Virgil felt the atmosphere change. He tried to relax; aware that there was trouble brewing.
"No," Lisa said, her voice firm although Virgil thought he could see her trembling. "Come inside, Butch."
More catcalls.
"Go on, Butch," Virgil suggested. "You don't want to spoil Lisa's evening."
"You shut ya trap, poodle!" one of the gang members snarled and Virgil parried a punch. "Get 'im!"
"Don't hurt him!" Butch roared.
Virgil wasn't sure if that directive was levelled at him or his attacker, but three members of the Skulz decided Butch was on their side. He defended himself against the first two, but didn't have the chance to ready himself before the attack by the third. He hit the ground hard, the skin by his left eye throbbing and the sensation of something warm and wet running down his cheek. He rubbed at it and his hand came away red.
Blood.
There was a moan, a muffled cry, and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Butch having seen blood, had keeled over; managing to squash one of his ex-associates in the process.
"Butch!" Lisa ran forward to her husband's aid.
Muzz seized the moment… and Lisa, who screamed. "C'mon, Sweetheart. Lemme show ya what a real man can do."
Virgil got back to his feet, but it was Bruce who made the first move. "Leave her alone!" He demanded as he charged at Muzz, shouldering the gang leader away from Lisa who fell backwards onto the ground.
"Think yi're gonna stop me, worm?" Muzz jeered at Bruce, who was dancing around, his fists raised. "C'mon. Do ya worst!"
Virgil helped Lisa to her feet. "Get out of here!" he ordered.
"But Butch…"
But it wasn't Butch who was in trouble. A blow to the head had sent Bruce staggering. He collapsed to the ground and lay there as a knife seemed to appear out of thin air. Muzz stood over Bruce's prone body, ready to exact his revenge.
Working as much from instinct as conscious thought, Virgil took one step and, with a roundhouse kick, sent the knife flying from Muzz's hand. There was a cheer from somewhere in the vicinity of the hall.
Snarling, Muzz turned on Virgil. "You're dead meat, poodle!"
Virgil hoped not.
His diversion came from an unexpected quarter. Wondering what was happening outside that was so interesting; Butch's relatives had left the party. They saw their kin regaining consciousness on the ground, decided that he'd been attacked, and with no regard as to whom the culprit could be, dived into the melee.
Virgil dodged an attack from one gang member, parried a second's blow, and then had to roll out of the dangerous manoeuvre when a third managed to tip him headfirst towards the concrete. He was still down when he realised that Muzz was once again moving in on a groggy Bruce, preparing to plant one of those villainous pointed-steel toecaps into his friend's soft belly. Virgil rolled closer and kicked out; knocking Muzz's other leg out from under him.
There was another cheer from the hall.
Virgil leapt to his feet to dodge an attack from Muzz's supporters and wondered what was taking the police so long to arrive.
If it was hectic before, it was mayhem now. Carrying various bits of weaponry, Skulz appeared to rush at Virgil from all directions. Butch was screaming insults and threatening personal injury on any person who harmed a member of his family or friends. Lisa was trying to assist Bruce to safety, but was hindered by her long skirt, high heels, and by the way his legs appeared to have turned to jelly.
And Virgil was fighting for his life.
Kicking here, elbowing there, a blow to a throat, a knee to a groin, using nearly every trick he'd learnt from Kyrano's martial arts classes; Virgil tried not to let the gang get the upper hand, but he was fighting a losing battle against insurmountable numbers. His efforts earned him some painful blows to the body, one of which landed squarely on his solar plexus: leaving him doubled over, gasping for breath. It could have been the end had Butch not finally decided where his loyalties lay and charged at Virgil's attacker; punching him to the ground, before turning on his associates. It was during that brief respite that Virgil saw Muzz retrieve his knife and once again advance on Bruce and Lisa. "Bruce!" he gasped. "Behind you!"
Bruce turned and saw the knife. Gallantry overcoming sanity, he placed himself between the weapon and Lisa. "Leave 'er 'lone," he slurred.
"Oh ho!" Muzz jeered. "Big guy, huh?" He took a step forward, holding the knife in a manner that suggested that he was experienced in its use. "Let's see how big ya are… spread out all over the ground."
Realising that her protector was in no shape to deal with an armed thug, Lisa pulled Bruce back. "You leave him alone!" she snarled at Muzz.
Virgil sent one Skulz flying into another.
"Ya know you're beautiful when ya're angry, Liesl," Muzz teased.
"Don't call me that!" she hissed. "Only Butch calls me that."
"Liesl, Liesl, Liesl," Muzz taunted.
Bruce hefted up a piece of wood, which appeared to weigh heavy in his hands. "Stand back, Lisa," he ordered as he eyed their aggressor and the knife. "Don' come any closer… Punk."
Butch let loose an upper-cut that launched a Skulz skyward.
"Punk?" Muzz stared Bruce down. "A worm like you calls me 'Punk'? Time you were taught a lesson…" He lurched forward, the knife in his hand extended towards Bruce's heart.
Virgil drove his elbow into a Skulz throat and the man staggered back, gasping.
Butch punched a Skulz on the side of the head, sending teeth flying.
Lisa screamed.
Bruce stared at his piece of wood, which had a long, sharp knife embedded in it. He gulped… and fainted.
Muzz grabbed Lisa who screamed again. "Butch! Help me!"
Her husband heard her cry. He turned and saw Lisa struggling in the arms of his ex-friend. Letting out a roar, he charged through gang members who fell by the wayside like wheat in a field. "You're dead, Muzz!"
Virgil heard the scream and the echoing shout. He saw Lisa's struggles and Bruce out on the ground. Then he lost sight of them both as a bruiser of a man attempted to head-butt him. He ducked and the bruiser slammed his head into the head of another Skulz who'd sneaked up behind. They both collapsed to the ground.
Leaping over the bruiser, Virgil took off to Lisa's aid.
Not that she needed it. Muzz let out a scream of pain as Lisa's stiletto heel gouged down his shin. Freed from his clutches, Lisa attempted to run, but her weapon had become her Achilles heel as her stiletto snagged in the top of Muzz's boot and she pitched forward; skidding along the ground.
If Muzz had any intention of gaining retribution, his plans were thwarted when Butch mowed him down. Screaming abuse, the angry man landed one blow and then another on the gang boss who tried ineffectually to defend himself. Fearful that Butch might end up facing a murder charge, Virgil pulled him off. "Butch!"
"Lemme at 'im!"
"Go look after Lisa!"
"Lisa?"
"Yes! Lisa!" Virgil kicked out at a thug who was bearing down on them.
Butch looked down at his wife, saw that her make-up was ruined and her dress torn. "Lisa?"
"Oh, Butch. Why'd you have to join them…?"
Virgil turned his attention to Bruce. His friend was sitting on the cold concrete staring at a knife sticking out of a piece of wood and giggling hysterically. "Bruce?"
"Gottem," Bruce giggled. "Gottem good."
Virgil was attacked again. A rock hard arm across his throat sent him flying, gulping for air, to the ground. Ugly faces and hard fists and feet bore down on him, landing blow after painful blow. He fought them, but was almost ready to accept that there was no escape when his assailants fell back revealing a cool, starry sky. Bruised and bleeding he got to his feet and tried to steady himself, ready for the next attack. Someone grabbed his arm and Virgil spun about, fist ready to throw a defensive punch. He stopped himself just in time and let his hand drop to his side.
"Smart boy," the policeman said. "You're under arrest."
It was only then that Virgil became aware that the car park was filled with flashing lights and uniformed men.
---I-R---
---F-A-B---
"Let me get this straight," the cop said, glaring at Virgil over the desk. "You told me that your name's Tancy. But now you're saying it's really Tracy?"
Virgil nodded, feeling his stiff neck muscles complain. He'd already had paid a visit to the police surgeon, who'd pronounced no long term damage, followed by an humiliating session having every cut, graze and bruise photographed and recorded. "Yes. I work for Aeronautical Component Engineering, which is owned by my father. I don't want my work colleagues to treat me any different to anyone else, so I'm using the alias of Tancy. Bruce Sanders was the only one at the party who knows who I really am." He sat forward, feeling more complaints from his body. "How is Bruce?"
"Gone for a scan."
"What? Why?!"
The policeman, name Villanueva according to the label on his chest, ignored Virgil's concerns. "So you've been lying to us?"
"Well…" Virgil had a bad feeling about this. "Technically, I suppose you could say, 'yes'. But I did mention it as soon as I was alone with a member of the police force. Look…Check my wallet. It's got my identification. Driver's licence… Pilot's licence…"
The cop seemed uninterested as he made a few notes on his charge sheet. "You said your father owns Aeronautical Component Engineering?"
"Yes, that's right."
"And his name is…"
Virgil stared at the man. Normally the combination of the names Tracy and ACE would be enough to start lights flashing. "Jeff, ah, Jefferson Tracy."
"Jefferson… Tracy…" Villanueva wrote, not showing any signs of recognition at the name. "He'll confirm your story?"
"Yes. Look, I'm the one who called the police in the first place. I was fighting but it was in self-defence. It was the Skulz who started it." Virgil was ignored again.
Villanueva reached into a case and removed a flask inside an evidence bag. "Do you know what this is?"
"Yes. It's mine. I took it to the party in case I had any concerns about what was in the drinks available."
"What is in this flask?"
Feeling bemused by this line of questioning, Virgil had to stop and think. "Fruit juice."
Villanueva frowned. "Fruit juice?"
"Yes. It's my grandmother's recipe. It's a mixture of fruit juices and some spices."
"I think you ought to be warned that the contents of this flask have been sent for analysis."
"Analysis?"
"Yes."
"For drugs?"
"Yes."
"In Grandma's fruit juice?" Virgil started to laugh, but the pain from his split lip pulled him up short. "Ow… That's ridiculous…! Look, you said that I need a lawyer."
"Yes."
"How about my friends? Will Bruce?"
Villanueva checked his notes. "That would be Bruce Sanders?"
"Yes."
"He does."
"Does Butch?"
The notes were checked again. "Butch?"
"Butch Crump… No, hang on. His first name's really Cyril."
Virgil found himself under Villanueva's scrutiny again. "Is he the son of the owner too?"
"No. Butch is his nickname… I don't know if he's changed it legally."
"Cyril Crump…" Villanueva went through the list of miscreants. "Yes, he's here."
"How about Butch's, ah, Cyril's wife, Lisa?"
"There are no women under arrest."
Virgil let out a sigh of relief. "Can my lawyer act for all three of us?"
Villanueva fixed Virgil with a level stare. "Does this mean that you are not requesting the courts to appoint a lawyer to represent you?"
"That's right. Can I make a phone call to arrange it?"
"Brown," Villanueva turned to the policeman standing in attendance at the doorway. "Escort Mr 'Tracy' to the phone and let him make his call."
"Yes, Sir."
But it wasn't a lawyer's number that Virgil dialled and he had to wait some time for the phone to be answered. "Hi, Father."
"Virgil?" Jeff was sounding half-asleep. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Ah, yeah." Virgil had only just realised. "Sorry, but I need your help."
"It's not John again is it?"
"No…"
"One of the others?"
"No. I…"
"Then this had better be important. I've had a busy day."
"I know, and I'm sorry that I have to call."
"Well," Jeff growled, "what is it?"
"I'm…ah…" Virgil had been so sure that his father would understand his predicament and know that he was innocent, that he'd had no hesitation in making the phone call. But now, when it was actually time to make the request…
"Virgil?"
"I'm under arrest," Virgil admitted, and waited for the reaction.
It was a long time in coming as Jeff tried to get his head around what had been said. "You're what?"
"In police custody. I need a lawyer."
"You're – under – arrest?"
"Yes."
"You?!"
"Yes, Father."
"Virgil?"
"Yes."
"Has Gordon put you up to this?"
"Father…"
"All right, Virgil. I know that was a stupid thing to say. But I just can't believe it." Jeff sighed, now fully awake. "What are the charges?"
"Uh… Disorderly conduct… Assault and battery…"
"What!!!"
"I'm innocent! But I need legal representation."
"I'm sure you do." Jeff sounded grim and Virgil started to wonder if his father was as trusting as he'd assumed.
"Um… Can I ask a favour?"
"Apart from getting bailed out of jail?"
"Uh, yeah. Can the lawyer represent Bruce and Butch too?"
"Bruce Sanders and Butch Crump?"
"Yes. I'll pay you back!"
"Virgil, even with the retainer I'm paying you, you could never afford my lawyers, especially at the rate I'm going to be charged for their being called out at this hour…" Another sigh. "Give me the necessary details…"
When Virgil hung up the phone he was escorted, not to a cell, but back to the interview room, which had been deserted by Villanueva. As he waited on the uncomfortable seats, trying to work out which part of his abused body hurt the most, he idly wondered if he was confined in here because the Tracy name had finally rung some alarm bells, or because the cells were full of Skulz…
…And Bruce and Butch.
It must have been at least an hour; Virgil had no way of telling since the remains of his broken watch had been confiscated by the police, before the lawyer arrived. The man was dressed impeccably, showing no signs of having been dragged out of his bed at an unearthly hour by one of the world's richest men. He gave a cold nod. "Mr Tracy. I am Mr Kirby."
Virgil had stood in greeting. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."
Kirby gestured for him to be seated, which Virgil did with a grimace. "You are in pain?"
"A little discomfort," Virgil admitted. "It's Bruce I'm worried about. All they've told me is that he was having a scan. Have you heard if he's all right?"
"That is Mr Sanders?"
"Yes."
"Mr Sanders has sustained a mild concussion." Kirby dismissed Virgil's concerned reaction. "Perhaps we could begin by you telling me exactly what happened tonight?"
Trying to remember all the events systematically and clearly, Virgil recounted everything from Lisa's request for his help to the moment that he'd been taken away in a police car.
Kirby nodded, still stiffly formal in his suit and tie. "Very good. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go and consult with my colleagues who are in discussion with Mr Sanders and Mr Crump." He stood, nodded again to Virgil, and then was allowed by the watching policeman to depart the room.
Half an hour later Virgil was escorted to another interview room. "Bruce!"
Bruce lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on his arms on the table. "Hiya, Virgil. Thanks for getting me the lawyer." He frowned. "You look worse than I feel."
"I'm okay." Trying not to display signs of pain, Virgil took the seat next to his friend. "Are you all right?"
"Mild concussion. They tell me that if I get plenty of rest I'll be okay." Bruce sighed. "I've never had to report in sick in my life and now I'm going to be on leave for at least the next week."
"At least that's all. You had me worried when I saw you out cold on the ground."
"I was…?" Bruce shook his head slowly. "I don't remember. I can't remember anything after we left the hall. Not until I found myself being examined by the doctor."
Virgil felt the wave of guilt build inside of him. "I'm sorry, Bruce. This is my fault. I shouldn't've…"
"No, it's not," Bruce interrupted. He gave a wan smile. "Not unless you're the one who hit me on the head."
"No. That was Muzz."
"What happened?"
The door was opening. "I'll tell you when you're feeling better…"
Butch was led into the room by two enormous policemen. Now that the adrenaline had drained out of his system he looked to have shrivelled a couple of sizes. He collapsed into a chair. "Hi, Guys."
"Hi, Butch."
Butch stared at his hands. "Whata way t' spend ya anniversary."
"Have you spoken to Lisa?" Virgil asked.
Butch gave a slow nod. "When th' lawyer showed up, I used m' phone call to ring 'er. She's gonna pick us up. She's hoppin' mad."
Virgil wasn't surprised, but refrained from comment.
The door opened again and three men entered the room. One was Mr Kirby and Virgil assumed that the other two were his associates. "Bail has been posted," Mr Kirby announced. "Your father, Mr T… Virgil," he amended giving the smallest of smiles, "has paid the bond. You are free to go on the condition that you do not leave the city until after the initial hearing. Is that understood?"
Virgil thought of Gordon's homecoming party at the family home, in another state, and his heart sank. But he nodded his agreement.
"Good. I believe that your wife is waiting for you, Mr Crump."
Lisa was waiting for them and she looked to have been waiting for a long time. She still wore her dress from the night before, which, in the cold lights of the police station foyer, Virgil could see was torn and filthy. Her mascara had run, a sure sign that she'd been crying, but at present her lips were a thin furious line.
"Liesl …" Butch began.
"Don't you Liesl me," she hissed. "Get outside and into that car!"
Virgil was feeling as guilty as Butch looked. After all, he'd promised that he'd try to prevent trouble: not be part of it. "I'm sorry, Lisa."
"This isn't your fault," she snapped as they stepped outside into the full light of day. "It's my husband's!" She glared at Butch and Virgil got the impression that the four of them in one car would not make for a comfortable journey.
"Look, it's been a long night and you must be beat, Lisa." He gave an ingratiating smile. "Why don't you and Butch go straight home. Bruce and I can take a taxi."
Bruce must have been sharing similar thoughts. "Good idea, Virgil."
Butch knew his wife well enough to realise that he was in big trouble, and that his only buffer against the storm was about to desert him. "We can't let th' guys do that, can we, Lisa?"
"I'm sure Virgil and Bruce quite capable of finding their own way home." Lisa stopped by the driver's door to the car. "Get in, Butch."
"But, Lisa…"
"Get in!"
Butch got in.
Virgil and Bruce waved the Crumps goodbye before Virgil turned to his friend. "I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? I've already risked my neck once in the last 24 hours and I didn't fancy doing it again."
There was a taxi waiting and both men climbed in wearily. Virgil gave the driver Bruce's address. "Hey!" Bruce exclaimed. "What are you doing? I thought you'd want to go get your car."
"That can wait. You need to get some rest."
It was a quiet trip back to Bruce's home. Once there Virgil paid off the taxi driver and then assisted his friend inside.
It was another hour before he made it back to the car park that had been the scene of the fight. His car remained there, alone and looking like it was going to need a lot of body work. Sighing in exasperation, wondering if he could report the crime, Virgil let himself into the vehicle, glad that he didn't have to rely on keys for entry. Every bone in his body yearning for rest, he took himself off home.
To be continued…
"Something Good" from the Sound of Music copyright Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II (1965)
"Mama Told Me Not To Come" copyright Randy Newman (1966)
