Little White Lies

by Paul Watkins

  With this he again steps towards me and shoves with his two-finger prod. This time I’m ready for it and I step back to reduce the impact. Bear’s prod is like getting shoved with a pole.

  “Last time, Bear,” I say, “keep your hands to yourself.”

  Bear’s eyes grow wide and his nostrils flare as he smiles in disbelief. He’s obviously enjoying himself. Most bullies do when they think they have easy pickings.

  “Kiss my ass, boss-man,” he says with a sneer, “I’ve already had enough of yo’ shit! I’ll touch you all I want, anytime I want. Hear what I’m sayin’?” And out comes the two-finger prod once more.

  By now I’ve had enough of his shit. I step to my left and block Bear’s prod with my left hand, simultaneously grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards me. Surprised and caught off balance, he stumbles forward. Bear’s right side is exposed as I release his arm and strike with my right fist just below the rib cage. Bear bellows with rage and fights to regain his balance. He’s wide open as I send a sidekick to his right knee. I don’t want to break his leg, although it would be easy enough to do from this angle, but he’s badly hurt by the blow. Instinctively bending over to grab his injured knee, Bear presents his head as my next target. Everything seems to go in slow motion as I chamber my right leg at waist level and strike him in the face with a powerful kick that lands square on his nose. Blood sprays in the air as if from a squashed tomato. Bear slides down on his haunches… he’s half sitting with his right hand on his knee and his left hand on his face.

  Clearly, he’s at my mercy, which, unfortunately for him, is in short supply. I have no illusions as to what he would have done to me if the fight had gone the other way. I chamber my leg once again and deliver a frontkick to his groin. It’s a tough angle, but I manage to get the job done. The big man is finished as he rolls over on the ground, curled into the fetal position and moaning quietly. I confess, I can’t help but feel pleased by the blood flow from his nose. That honker is going to be a beaut’ for some time to come.

  Marshall seems too stunned to move as I circle and face him. I settle into a position called a peace move, sort of half squatting with my hands at blade angles… my right hand near my right ear and my left hand near my left thigh. I can move from here into any number of positions, offensive or defensive. I challenge Marshall. If he’s going to come at me, we might as well get it over with right now.

  “Up to you, Steve. You want to be a hero or are you a little more intelligent than your buddy here?”

  Marshall glances at Bear and then looks back at me. “I’ve got no beef with you, man.” He quickly looks away.

  I slowly straighten up and resume a normal posture, all the time keeping Marshall squarely in my sights.

  “I prefer to be called, Philip.” I point to Bear. “Call an ambulance and have him treated. Also, call the police. I’m preferring charges.”

  For the first time Marshall shows some signs of life.

  “You’re preferring charges? What the hell for, you nearly killed him!”

  “Just in case he gets any bright ideas down the road as to who attacked whom, I want it all on the record. As for making the calls, if you want to keep on working here, please take care of it. Since you are both friends of Mr. Jackson, I will want you with me when I tell him I have fired Mr. Street.”

  I walk over to Bear and nudge him with my toe. The big man lets out a groan, but doesn’t move.

  “You’re fired, Bear.”

  Marshall steps forward as I turn to leave… hands raised in the air, it’s clear he has no hostile intent.

  “You want me to take sides against Bear? He’ll kill me.”

  “Would you prefer to take sides against the man who just beat him?” I ask with no attempt to limit the sarcasm in my voice. “Actually, I do not want you to take sides against anyone. However I do want you to tell the truth as to what happened here. Make the calls and see me in the library as soon as the ambulance leaves. When you talk to the police, tell them they do not have to come here unless they want to. I will be happy to go to the station.”

  Marshall stands as if rooted to the spot, immobilized by indecision. “Make your choice, Steve, I’m running short of patience. If I wind up making the calls, then I’m going to have to think real hard to come up with a reason to keep you around.”

  Marshall turns and walks towards the garage. It will not be long before I learn what choice he has made. Making the calls is really a test. I can take care of it myself, but it’s time for Mr. Marshall to grow up. I suspect he’s been following around in Bear’s footsteps for sometime now and that’s going to have to change if he’s going to be of any use to me. I can’t be dealingwith conflicting allegiances. He’s either on our team or on some other team. I want to know which one it’s going to be and now is a good time to find out. I step around Bear and head back to the house to report to Mr. Jackson. My new job may have just come to a rather untimely end. Dammit! Things were going real well for a while there. Almost made it through themorning.

  ***

  As I reach for the kitchen door it opens, the door handle eluding my grasp. Martha stands before me with a meat cleaver in her hand and defiance in her eyes. I stop dead in my tracks not knowing quite what to say, or if I should say anything at all. She doesn’t like Bear, but there may be a black/white thing going here.

  “I thought for a minute I was going to have to come out there and save your white butt,” she says without smiling. “I saw the whole thing… in case anybody wants to know.” A slow easy smile spreads across her face. “Where did you learn that Kung Fu shit?”

  Kung Fu again. What the hell is it with Kung Fu around here?

  “Look, Martha,” I begin, “I had a little problem and I had to fire Bear. Things got out of hand… somewhat… I just want you to know that what happened out there isn’t really me… that’s not the way I like to handle things.”

  Martha steps back from the doorway, and then walks to the island and places the meat cleaver on a rack.

  “Look, Philip, if you ever want to fire Martha, you just tell me you don’t need me anymore. I’ll go and pack my bags without a word and leave quietly… you don’t have to do any of that Kung Fu shit with me. I’ll just go.”

  “Martha, look… listen to me… what happened out there was unfortunate, it… “

  “Unfortunate! I like that. If anybody asks me what happened to Bear, I’ll tell them what happened was ‘unfortunate’. What a nice word. Is that a word you learn in them fancy schools? When you kick somebody’s ass you say it was unfortunate? Well ol’ Bear got a bad case of the unfortunates… he sure did.” Martha chuckles and looks out the window at Bear’s inert form. “Are you going to call an ambulance? I wonder if they have something in their bag for a real bad dose of the unfortunate.”

  She continues to giggle, her round frame shaking with the effort. No longer even trying to maintain her stern look, it’s clear she’s going to make the most of the situation… swat me around for a while before letting it go. For my part, this conversation is going nowhere. I wave my hand at Martha and start to leave, but then remember that I want her to give a message to A.J. for me. I want to meet with him in the library when he returns. The last thing I need is for him to find out about all this commotion from someone else.

  “Martha, will you tell Mr. Jackson I would like to meet with him in the library as soon as possible after he returns from his run? I’ll tell the maid upstairs.”

  “Don’t bother,” Martha replies, “I’m going upstairs in a minute. I’ll take care of it.”

  I thank Martha and head for the library. I can hear her mumbling some nonsense in the kitchen, but I’ve had enough of her philosophy for a while. I will never get her to understand this thing anyway, so why bother trying?

  Sometime later I see the ambulance leave and Steve Marshall comes to the lib
rary. He walks to a corner and sits down, obviously in no mood for conversation. We sit in uneasy silence for the next ten minutes waiting for A.J. to return. Finally there’s a noise in the foyer as the Jacksons enter the house, followed by a lower volume conversation. Evidently A.J. is getting the word that we are waiting for him in the library. I rise in anticipation of his entrance. Marshall stays seated, apparently very interested in the floor space between his feet. A.J. enters and walks briskly to his desk.

  “I understand you have a little problem.” He throws this over his shoulder as he rounds his desk, spins his chair and sits in one easy motion. “What’s up boys… someone hurt someone’s feelings?” The last is polished with a big grin.

  I don’t know what he thinks at this point, but I might as well get it out and over with.

  “I’ve fired Mr. Street.”

  A.J. pops to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. He leans forward, his knuckles supporting him on the desk like a predator sizing up his next meal.

  “You what? You fired Bear?” His look contains more surprise than anger. “I’ll fire your ass first,” he continues. “Bear has a job here anytime he wants it. You’re letting this manager thing go to your head, my man.”

  Now smiling, he turns to Steve Marshall. “Stevie, I’m afraid our newest employee doesn’t quite understand how things work around here.” Steve doesn’t reply and A.J. lets his gaze linger only a moment before turning back to me. “Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into having these people report to you. They’re too much for you… too physical.” He gestures towards Marshall, “These are strong young studs who watch out for my ass. I’m afraid you’re just not up to running this end of things, Phil.”

  How in the hell am I going to get through to this guy before he goes too far and says something he can’t take back? Trouble is, saving face for him would mean losing for me. It would take a very big man to let the new kid win this kind of battle… white, no less.

  “Mr. Jackson, I’m afraid you don’t quite understand what it is we’re here to discuss.”

  “Oh, I know what you want to discuss,” he counters. “You want to get rid of my friends and replace them with some candy-asses you think you can control. Sorry, Phil, it ain’t going to happen. Bear’s staying, and that’s all there’s to it.”

  “Mr. Jackson,” I persist, “I think if you will let me explain, you will understand why I wanted to have this meeting.”

  Shit, this is going from bad to worse. A.J. shakes his head and sits down in his chair with an air of resignation. He flicks his fingers, in a half-hearted fashion, signaling me to continue. Not much in the way of encouragement, but I’ll have to take what I can get.

  “First, I would not bother you with a simple employee termination, if the person in question were not a friend of yours. But since Mr. Street is a friend, I wanted to discuss the matter with you and explain why I took the action I did. I have no objection if you wish to retain Mr. Street in some other position, but I’m afraid he is not qualified to be a security man. He does not have the physical skills or the mental ability the position requires.”

  “Are you nuts?” A.J. shoots back. “Why do you think we call him, Bear? The guy is a giant. People take one look at him and they shit their pants. He’s been kicking ass since he was a kid… he’s a natural bodyguard if there ever was one. What would you have him do… gardening?”

  He turns to Marshall and winks. The prick’s really having a good time with this. It takes some doing, but I ignore his unspoken sidebar conversation with Steve and continue on.

  “Well I haven’t thought about what I would have him do. I just know he’s not cut out for security work… at least not here.”

  “You had better not let him hear you say that.” A.J.’s not even trying to suppress his smiles anymore.

  “A.J.,” Marshall begins quietly, his voice barely audible, “I think you should know something about what happened out there. Bear and Phil… “ I turn and look directly at Marshall. He glances at me momentarily and then continues, “Bear and Philip had a little argument outside that got out of hand… sort of. I mean, Bear started shoving Philip around… “ A.J.’s smiling again. “And then Philip… “ A.J. shifts around in his chair. If his grin gets any wider, he’s going to hurt himself. “… ripped Bear a new asshole.”

  I couldn’t have said it better myself. Apparently A.J. didn’t hear the whole story in the foyer. The room has gone dead quiet. The shit-eating grin on A.J.’s face is frozen in place, but he no longer knows it’s there. I feel as though I’m sitting in a photograph. No one is ever going to move again. After a while the mantle clock begins to chime and time struggles back to its normal cadence. A.J.’s smile is still there, but it’s wilting fast. He seems to be waiting for some sort of punch line. Such is the fate of the true believer.

  “Bear’s on his way to the hospital,” Marshall continues, “and Philip wants to prefer charges.” He concludes hastily, as though saying it fast might somehow get him the hell out of this.

  A.J. turns slowly in his chair and faces me directly. He begins to speak, but the words are coming very slowly.

  “So you took Bear. I’m supposed to believe you took Bear. Sucker punch?” He turns back to Marshallwith a look on his face that is almost pleading for some rational explanation.

  Before I can speak Marshall cuts me off.

  “A.J., he took him on straight up. He warned him… several times. It was no accident, man. Bear never had a chance. He got flat-out handled!”

  Marshall’s last comment seems to have stunned A.J. After a few moments of silence he looks at me and says, “So what are you saying, you don’t want Bear to work here anymore because you kicked his ass? Isn’t that a little bit much because of a fight? Can’t you kick someone’s ass and forget about it?”

  I ignore the suggestion, if that’s what it is.

  “Frankly, Mr. Jackson, I don’t care if he works here or not, as long as he minds his manners. I am simply saying he is not cut out for security work. He is too hotheaded and he has no skills for that sort of thing. And given what happened today, I do not think he will want to come back.”

  A.J. puts his elbows on the arms of his chair and rests his chin on the backs of his hands. He seems to be in some sort of daze.

  “If you don’t mind,” I continue, “I would like to take this opportunity to discuss the overall security situation. For example, Mr. Marshall here, is not qualified for the position either… in my opinion.”

  I look over at Marshall and his head drops in acceptance of the inevitable. I suppose he figures I’m after him too… make a clean sweep of it. But that’s not what I have in mind.

  “You see, Mr. Jackson, this type of work is not for amateurs. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Marshall can stay on, but if he wants to continue in security work, then, in all fairness to him, he will need some formal training. The type of training I have in mind would take at least six months to get him to the starting line. In the meantime, we can fill the positions with professionals who are trained for this kind of duty.”

  A.J. comes to life. “Bullshit. I think you are overreacting. I know some people…”

  To hell with this… I’ve had enough of his amateur hour.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be interested in the people you know, sir. You already picked the people who you thought were the best of those you know and they are not up to the task. Not even close! You are a wealthy man and a very well known one at that. You had better get serious about this issue and get serious about it now, before anything happens. God willing, nothing ever will, but I believe in using all the means at our disposal to prevent something from happening, rather than wishing we had done it another way after a tragedy occurs. You, better than most people in your position, should realize the world we live in is not a very friendly place at times.”

 
I can practically see A.J.’s blood rise. He obviously does not want to hear a lecture, but he holds steady. He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

  “What are you suggesting… what are we talking about?”

  Curious. Just when I expect him to lose his cool and blow his top, he comes back and continues the conversation in a rational manner. He’s very unpredictable and a bit unsettling… but in a positive way. Unfortunately it’s not something I can dwell on right now.

  “I’m suggesting we hire professionals to watch both you and your family. These people will be well trained in bodyguard techniques and will be familiar with both weapons and hand-to-hand combat skills. They will understand home security and enforce it every day and night. They will be trained in emergency medical procedures, and most important, they will not turn the place into an armed camp.

  “I’m not talking about a goon squad. The kind of people I have in mind would do everything possible to insure the safety of you and your family and at the same time preserve a normal family atmosphere. Or, at least, as normal as it can be, given the circumstances. Either do it right, or don’t do it at all. But if you feel there is a problem, then let’s do it right. We can augment a small staff with electronic gear here at the estate. That way we would keep the long-term operational expenses down.”

  A.J. makes a twirling motion with his finger. “This all sounds wonderful, but who in the hell knows where to find people like that? To answer your other question: yes, I think there’s a problem. You can’t believe the kooks I run into in this business. If one of them ever got to my family, I don’t know what the hell I’d do.”

  “I’ll get to work on it.”

  I stand, accepting the decision for progress in a very important area and depart, leaving Marshall behind to talk with A.J. I already know where to start. Several of the men I served with in Special Forces in Nam wound up in security work. Some for the government and others went into the private sector. One person with whom I’ve stayed in touch over the years would be the perfect choice to put this thing together for us. He may not be available personally, but he would know where to get the people I need. people with the right skills who can be trusted to do the job no matter what.