To celebrate the birth of his cousin, Andy went down to the pub. Billy Morrison, the butler's son was at his usual spot, at the counter. Gesturing him over, Billy offered to buy him one. Tempting, but he declined it.

"I'm cutting back."

"Cutting back is for wimps." Billy slid the glass down to him. After a moments hesitation, Andy slid it back but it didn't make it's way down the counter as smoothly. The glass tipped over, the contents spilling onto Billy's lap. He jumped up, swearing at Andy for wasting a perfectly good brew. He started to stagger toward Andy, clearly in a drunken rage.

They had gotten in a few tussles a few times but nothing that had ever really escalated. The man who named one's personality by the type of drink. Once he had compared to Jo as a class of champagne,(Jo hadn't been present of course) she was sexy, classy, and probably easy if he got a few drinks in her. That had made Andy take a swing at him, defending his sister's honor. Billy confessed that he had never touched her. She was weird about it but they had kissed a few times, that was all. Andy had shoved his drunk ass onto the floor.

When things calmed down, Andy was curious about what he had meant and asked "What do you mean by weird?"

He told him he had seen some boy harassing her, wanting her to kiss him but she had refused. The boy had called her a 'cold fridged bitch" wanting to see if the rumors were true about her being like her mother, I guess. And then he pushed her up against a fence. I scared him off when he saw me."

"When was this?"

"A few years ago. When she was still in school."

Billy became a different person when he drank, depending on how drunk, the more easily angered he would become. The past year Andy had been dependent on him buying his beers. Mechanics didn't make that much especially with after the war. That would make anyone angry. The alcohol fueled his rage. He had been banned from joining the army due to his drinking and arrest record of public intoxication.

Now, as Billy was going for him, his fist out, Andy was able to dodge him. The lack of coordination sending him crashing into a table. More beer was spilled as the glasses shattered on the floor.

Two patrons came over and grabbed Billy, getting him up off the floor. Andy thanked them and told them he;d take him home but Billy shoved him off lightly, telling him to piss off. And he staggered out the door. Andy decided to stay, but after a few minutes, the two men followed out after Billy. His instincts taking over, Andy went out after them. When he got outside three men were stomping on him.

Andy tried to quickly defuse the situation. He was checking on Billy, trying to get him to the car when they all came back with a crowd. They started talking tough and trying to goad me into fighting. I was just focused on getting my friend home or to the hospital.

Then, a man comes out of the bar and asks, what's going on?" At that point, one of the men punched him and his head hit the ground with a sickening thwack sound.

I don't remember the fight. This is what witnesses told me happened. I immediately lunged onto the guy that had punched the innocent by-stander, who turned out to be the bar's owner, and hit him many times on the way to the ground. Then, choked him until the other two grabbed me. Apparently, I kicked one in the face and tackled the other in quick order. Then, one of their girlfriends jumped on his back and he flipped her on top of the guy I'd choked out.

Its obvious to me now that my flight or fight was stuck on fight and fight like a soldier.

I was forever golden at that bar. They warned people not to screw with me. I got free beers and food for months. Something was still missing in my life.

As the laughter quieted and the bar started to clear, he saw a woman with red hair sitting at the end of the bar that reminded him of Cindy. To his surprise it was.

The Summer of 1945 I was invited to a river party and met a nice young lady, Cindy Jenkins, she was eighteen, a year younger than me. One thing lead to another and we ended up skinny dipping.

We were at a local river where a group of people chipped in and bought a lot beer. Everyone was drinking and smoking, the kind that wasn't normal tobacco. We were blitzed. So, my new lady friend and I took a walk down to the river. We swam and made out and stuff. Then, when we got out, our clothes were missing. So, me being me, I walked up to the campfire where about ten or so folks were sitting and still drinking.

One of them said, "You're a pervert, there's kids here", There might have been a few older teens, but no children present. Still I apologized, being the gentlemen I was taught to be. But, they weren't having it.

Cindy showed up with our clothes. Someone had taken my wallet and her money from her pants pocket and she was pissed. She was also the daughter of the man who was heckling me. His eyes went wide when he saw her, standing there, stark in the nude. He jumped up, slapped her, called her a whore.

I told him I would defend her honor. Well, all six men or so got up and formed a mob. My naked friend was being called names. I'd had enough. So, I told them to bring it. Her dad punched me in the nose. It hurt, but I stood my ground and said, "You hit like a child, do it again." He obliged.

By that point, I thought my nose was broken and I was crying tears of pain. Not sobbing, it just hurt and was involuntary. The men stopped, satisfied. I had known by sizing them up that a few punches would be enough to satisfy them. They had misjudged my scrawny size, though I had build up some muscle in the army. Cindy asked if I was alright as I got up. Her father then threw my wallet and her money down at her feet.

Cindy said she'd drive me home and told her dad she'd be back. He was still cussing and calling her names.

Instead we went to a hotel far out of town, after we drove and drove.

She put the car in park, kissed me passionately, told me that was the most dangerous thing she had ever seen and she was madly in love with me. She payed for the room and offered me the key first so I could go get cleaned up. I went into the bathroom, washed my face. Surprisingly, no broken nose but no doubt would leave some bruises. Still handsome though I was pasty as hell and looked like crap.

She came in without knocking, putting her arms around me. We took a shower together and afterwards had passionate sex.

She was worth the bruises. I won't ever forget her kindness and abandoning her father. He was an abusive drunk. She didn't go back to living with him.

Andy payed monthly for the hotel room, secretly with his allowance, for her to live there. Soon it would be better and she would be living the life of luxury, he told her. They would be married. She very soon gave him an ultimatum, give up drinking or she'd call off the engagement. Easier said then done.

George had just completed his first tiring day at work. All he wanted to do was sit. Why did he tell Mr. Dixon that he could stand on his feet all day? Now he'd have to remove his prosthesis and keep his leg up all evening. He was going to have to leave it off all night if he was to survive the next day. It would be embarrassing to lose his job just after one day.

Mr. Dixon, the senior banker training him had no idea that he had one leg, the limp barley detectable. Apparently Mr. Weston hadn't informed him. When Mr. Dixon found out he had George remain behind the counter so that he didn't frighten the customers.

He hadn't dared ask if he could take short breaks, at least five minutes every hour to rest, to relive pressure on his stump.

He'd have to be careful or he'd develop sores. Then he'd have to use crutches while he healed. He didn't have to take the train and have people stare at him while he juggled them in his lap like a fool.

He'd go home, sit in front of the fire and read of book before bed.

He approached the drawing room door. Before entering, laughing and clinking of glasses could be heard. Each sofa was occupied by Johnny and Andy, Clare Rothman, and Jo and her husband Nick. Jo immediately rushed over.

"Congratulations! You survived your first day!" She gave him a hug.

"We're taking you out to dinner and a show to celebrate." Andy said.

"Oh. I'm afraid I can't. I'm too tired. All I want to do it sit down." He stretched his arms and yawned, putting one hand on his thigh. His brother just grinned. He was so clueless. How was it that he survived the war?

"You can sit down at dinner and at the theatre."

"We already made reservations for seven." Jo said. "Chinese food, your favorite." She beckoned like a siren, tempting to lure a sailor to his demise.

"Alright. As long as the show isn't anything he's written." George nudged his head toward Nick.