My companions took turns on board. Dev, Jess, Tommy, and Lynn were always there. It was a daily grind I had to remind myself was not real pleasant for them either. I had a full attendance on this one, because it was a Saturday. I actually had Sunday off… to work out for four hours in the gym. Lucas handed me a double Beam brother when I came up. I was surprised, but in no way shocked enough not to take it in a trembling but grateful hand. I didn’t stand on ceremony. I drained it, my face turning up into the sun, relishing the Beam brother’s journey to my feet and back to my head.
“God bless you, brother. Ooh RAH!”
“I still think you ought to be in swimming trunks, but that last strike was the damnedest bit of violent poetry I ever saw, Mellow.”
“It was that,” Lynn added, patting my shoulder. “Good God… I don’t know what it would take to beat The Rattler, but anyone on the streets better bend over and kiss their ass goodbye if you ever deign to use that last strike on them.”
Clint refilled my Beam brother, and added the Bud brother chaser. “If it’s any consolation, Mellow, I caught dinner – a four foot long sturgeon.”
“That you refilled my liquid brothers makes you golden with me. I’m happy for you. Where is it?”
“You’ve been in the shower so long, Lynn filleted it, ready for eatin’. It’s already in the cooler.”
Okay, I may have chuckled at that news. It’s good to come out of my sullen mode with the added refreshment. “How’d you do, Jess?”
He recognized a setup instantly. Jess was our fisherman supreme. His silence made it plain he may have caught a cold… but not a fish. “I did better than you, brother!”
Heh… heh… yep, nada. I toasted him with my Bud brother. “It’s okay, Jess. Clint had his way with you on this particular fishing excursion. There’s always Monday to start again trying to win your crown back.”
Denny and Maria had joined us. They were up on the bridge, taking over for Lucas. The Lora was big enough, that even having the crowd we had on today didn’t seem bad. The fact I’d just exited the water, and consumed the brothers Bud and Beam probably made the number of boat dwellers less noticeable than when we started. I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
Casey came over with his catch, an eighteen inch rockfish. “I know it’s not much next to the man from nowhere’s four footer, but I’m going to come out with you guys more often. I like this fishing stuff.”
Jafar and Samira were sitting quietly. Samira did not look too well. Lynn blocked my sight of them. “Don’t worry about my little Sis, Mellow. She didn’t go to the bridge while I prepared Clint’s catch. She needs some time to digest that whole filleting process.”
“Thank God she hasn’t insisted on seeing the game show episode,” Casey said. He went into an accusatory dance, pointing at me and Clint. “You two accompanied her in the process… you monsters!”
I’m really impressed with Casey’s revulsion. Lucas, Casey, and I were the original ‘Dexter’ interrogators. We made Pain Central. My first impression was he’s jealous. Then he grinned and hugged Lynn.
“You are the best ever, Crue. I don’t know where the hell you come up with the stuff you do, but so far you’re one hundred percent in results. I think Mellow Yellow is getting a little full of himself. Maybe we need to kick his drunk butt off the fantail to remind him not to get complacent.”
I set down my brothers, and stretched a bit. “One at a time, or all at once – makes no difference. Best kiss and hug your loved ones if you plan on putting me in the water again today. I’ll tell you a secret right now: drunk or not, there ain’t enough of you to do it, but the emergency rooms at all the hospitals will be thanking you for the business.”
“Later, Case,” Lynn said, heading to the bridge, with the laughing Clint next to her, and Tommy a step behind.
Jafar grabbed up the still recuperating Samira and headed for the bridge. Dev and Jess beat them only by a heartbeat. Lucas gripped Casey’s arm.
“See you on the other side, brother. I was only joking with you about being a Delta Force pussy. You’re the man.” With that, Lucas joined the others on the bridge.
“Semper Fi, my brother,” Casey moved in to hug me.
I put him in the ocean, outmaneuvered, picked up and tossed off the fantail. Casey stroked back onto the lowered ramp. I plucked him up out of the water. “Damn Case, I think you need a drink.”
Casey eyed me warily. “Okay… what gave me away?”
“You don’t hug anyone, Case.”
Casey shrugged. “Good one. It was a mean thing to try anyway. I think I may have had one too many.”
I made the sign of the cross. “We are what we are, brother. You’re still Night-Shot Casey forever.”
Casey chuckled, as our companions made their way toward us in various stages of merriment. “I guess so. Any spare clothes around?”
I handed him a towel. “Main stateroom closet.”
Case walked through the gauntlet of well-wishers. Even a giggling Samira patted his shoulder. Apparently Casey’s unwanted swim made her forget about Lynn’s fish fillet. It was a beautiful trip back to the dock. The rematch contract with the Rattler was signed, and would take place February 14th, Valentine’s Day. The Rattler’s people were already heralding it as the new St. Valentine’s Day massacre. Christmas approached in true seasonal glory. Lora and I already had the house decorated. I even put up a few outside lights. Best of all, I’d have ten days out of the ocean for a blessed Christmas in Boston. I thought the vacation to see the in-laws would be hell at Christmas, but no more. I loved my in-laws for having me and the girls back for Christmas. Thank you, Lord. I sipped my third set of brothers, while we neared the dock. Then I saw Lora and Al waving happily from our pier.
Lucas eased The Lora into its slip with his usual expertise. Denny and Maria came over next to me, waving at the girls.
“They look happy, John,” Maria said. She’s the only adult around that doesn’t either call me Cheese, Mellow Yellow, or The Great Banana. Even my wife started calling me Cheese.
“Maybe Lora’s thinking of going out to dinner. That’s okay with me. I’m three sheets into the wind and starving.”
“It’s Saturday night, Cheese,” Denny said. “Why don’t we all go? See what Lora has in mind, and everyone can meet there in an hour. My treat.”
There were happy murmurs of approval from our companions. Clint and I hooked us up to the pier, where I received hugs from my greeters. “Denny’s buying dinner for the gang. Was that what you two were meeting the boat for?”
“That’s a great idea. It isn’t why we’re here though.”
“Dad! We don’t have to go back to Boston for Christmas,” Al stated, with an added hand clap and jump.
No God… please don’t do this to your faithful Cheeseburger… please God no. “But we can’t cancel our Christmas vacation to see your family. They’ll be heartbroken.”
“Mom said they’re all down with colds and the flu. She told me since you’re fighting in Las Vegas in February, she wants you to make good on your offer to host them all in the City of Sin… her words.”
I could hear the muffled laughter from my surrounding team of traitors. I had to move quickly or be lost. “We’ll do both. We need to go back there and take care of those poor sick people over the holidays. Shame on you for trying to duck your responsibility.”
“Al and I don’t want to end up with that crud.” Lora then looked perplexed for a moment, but my amused crew tipped her off. “You want ten days out of the water. I called Tommy. He said you told him this trip to Boston would really mess up your training schedule.”
“He what?!”
I turned too late. Tommy was already sprinting down the pier. That’s okay. He ain’t seen the day he could outpace me, but Al grabbed hold of my arm.
“C’mon, Dad, we’ll have Christmas at home.”
I took a deep breath while pointing at the now dancing Tommy at the end of the pier. “You can run, but yo
u can’t hide, partner! You’re toast!”
“Call me when you pick out a dinner place, oh Great Banana!”
“You should have seen the strikes, the Great Banana made today,” Samira told Lora and Al. “I do not want to see the fight, but his training is very entertaining.”
Clint was carting his cooler with both his and Casey’s fish. “Maybe Lynn will let you take a few pokes at Mellow Yellow, Samira. Anyway, we’ll have seafood at our house tomorrow. Everyone’s invited.”
Groans, and a scowl from Lynn, who immediately figured out why there were groans.
“I’m cooking,” Clint added to mild applause.
“Why don’t we have dinner at Scott’s tonight at Jack London Square,” Maria suggested.
“That’s a great idea,” Casey said. “We don’t want Mellow to get too far away from the ocean.”
“I will arrange a room reservation.” Jafar went on line with his iPad. “They will have it for us at six. I texted Laredo and Tommy with the update. This should be very enjoyable.”
“If no one minds, I’d like to invite Alexi too,” Denny said.
“I think that’s nice, Denny,” Lora replied. “Are you two getting along better now?”
“We’re good. He was ecstatic we didn’t have to involve his ship in our adventure a few weeks ago.”
Jafar looked up from his iPad. “I sent him an invitation.”
“If we’re all done, The Great Banana will go now to sulk over this horrendous turn of events, and his former friends who instigated it.”
“You Great Bananas are kind of a whiney type of fruit. No wonder everyone likes grapes better,” Lynn remarked. “I may have a banana split for dessert tonight.”
“Are you sure you want to go there, Lynn? You gain anymore ballast on that butt of yours, and we’re going to need a bigger boat.”
The race away from the dock was of course won by none other than The Great Banana.
Chapter Nineteen
Rattler Rematch
It was a party. Everyone came. They grilled the poor Cheeseburger all night. Yes, by then Mellow Yellow was again mellow with his Sunday off day ahead. Scott’s Seafood Restaurant decorated very nicely for the Christmas season. Alexi came, and actually sat next to Denny at the big table. I noted he drank ice cold shots of Stoli with Denny as they talked. That was a very good development because we needed Alexi. Lynn sat next to her best friend Maria, having a great time. Those two were without doubt a very strange couple of friends. Lynn could say, hey, let’s go get lunch in Paris, and Maria would ask when. Laredo and Danessa’s Mom, Sybil, were together across the table with Danessa next to Sybil. It was without doubt a Monster Squad Christmas party. Then the improbable happened. Into our private room at Scott’s walked Eugene Comings, better known as The Rattler, and his manager, Conrad Bueller. They had four big guys with them I assumed were bodyguards or trainers.
I looked at Alexi, and he immediately gave me a head shake that he had nothing to do with it. I got up to greet my future opponent as the audio level at the table dropped to nothing with a big smile, and my hand out.
“Gene! It’s good to see you. Merry Christmas! Hey, Conrad, how you doin’?”
We shook hands amiably, but both men were wearing frowns – not a good sign. “What brings you here?”
“We’re very sorry to interrupt your Christmas party, Harding.” Conrad smiled grimly. “We have had a few setbacks, and are forced to renegotiate our contract. We feel we must have a sixty/forty split because of lost revenue due to the illegal strike during the last fight. Gene could have done at least one fight in between worth hundreds of thousands.”
Both Alexi and Tommy moved into our informal group.
“You have a contract for the fight on February 14th,” Alexi stated. “Your fighter will be barred from the UFC if you back out of this fight while trying to negotiate a ridiculous alteration in terms. Surely you should have given this ploy more thought, Conrad.”
“Your bunch has been heralding this as the new St. Valentine’s Day massacre,” Tommy added. “It wouldn’t look very good if you tried weaseling more money at the eleventh hour after claiming victory will be a walk in the park.”
“What the hell do you mean weaseling?!” Conrad got apoplectic in a split second, jamming a finger into Tommy’s chest. “Your fighter crippled mine for a time with a cheap shot, thereby costing us a small fortune, and you wonder why we’re here? It will be sixty/forty!”
“Boys… boys… boys…” Lynn said moving up near Conrad. “Please consider you are interrupting a private Christmas party with this whiney crap. Why not make an appointment to discuss business like you were an actual businessman, Conrad.”
“Who-” Conrad moved toward Lynn, only to grow a knife-blade at his throat.
“Naughty… naughty, Conrad,” Lynn said as the bodyguards moved forward, only to be boxed in by a hastily moving crew of the most dangerous men on earth. “Let’s keep this simple. What do you think, Cheese?”
“Did these assholes steal everything you have, Gene?” I harbored an unpleasant theory as to why they had crashed our party.
Gene glanced over at a very contrite Conrad with Lynn’s blade tip at his throat. “I’m a fighter, John. I know I should have been more careful.”
I made a split second decision. We didn’t need the money. I looked at Tommy, and he nodded, stepping in to shake with Gene.
“Done deal, Gene. Sixty/forty. I’ll let this rat bastard, Conrad, draw it up. You have my word and John’s on it though. I hope to see you all in Las Vegas.”
Lynn grabbed Conrad’s coat though, locking him into a terrified face up posture, with the tip of Lynn’s knife at his throat. “I bet I could end the Rattler’s financial problems right now. Hey, Alexi, would you be willing to take on The Rattler.”
“I would be most happy to write up a contract with Mr. Eugene Comings, Lynn.”
“Give him your card. I’d suggest fighting under a different banner, Gene.” Lynn released Conrad. “I’ll be monitoring you, Conrad. Pray that I think everything is above board until I don’t ever have to see your face again.”
“Are…are you threatening me?” Conrad began losing touch with reality again.
“I’ve been threatening you, moron,” Lynn retorted. “Get a clue. You know what, Cheese? I don’t know how the hell you’ll do against Gene here, but I’d like to take Conrad on a boat trip.”
“I know what you mean, but I’m happy with your very helpful negotiations as is. It’s Christmas, Lynn. Let’s let everyone walk away alive for now.”
Lynn grinned, flipping her knife away from Conrad’s throat. She patted his cheek. “Done deal, Cheese. Remember what I said, Conrad.”
The Rattler shook my hand again. “Thank you, John. I am sorry I will have to destroy you in this fight, but I will not be playacting again.”
“Me either. Merry Christmas!”
* * *
The Marine’s Hymn washed over me. Its strains flowed through my soul. I was no longer walking into a dirty warehouse smelling like rot, decay, and desperation. I grinned, waiting for my cue to move into the lights. Tommy nudged me. I strode purposefully down toward the Mandalay Bay cage with Tommy, Dev, Jesse, and Jafar at my side. Ready is just a word. I trained for this in ways unimaginable to normal people. Memories of Christmas past blended into hellacious saltwater images with endless pole attacks. Christmas had been but a momentary reprieve from torture. Now though, all other plains of reality evaporated. I reached the cage, climbing inside with my fists up at the announcer’s prep. I wanted this in the worst way imaginable. No matter how this ended, I was never, ever going back into the Bay. I knew I would kill my brother Tommy, and all of our little cadre of trainers if it was ever suggested I don The Great Banana costume again. They instinctively knew it too. During the weigh in circus, I was asked how I had trained for the rematch. I replied, in hell.
The Rattler had heard my answer, and drifted by. “It won’t be enough, Cheese.”
When I didn’t respond, but simply watched him move away, the media played it like I was planning to throw the fight. Tommy moved in to insult them the hell away, promising the fight would live up to its billing. Yeah, it would. This wasn’t a grudge match. It would be a war of attrition. My guys knew no matter how lightning fast I could throw the side-hand strike, it could be easily blocked by a pro, because of the arc needed to land it.
My training in a state of rage left me with another heightened tool: quickness. They have measurements for it, but I have a pretty good idea of my tools. Quickness was at a record high for me. The unknown is a weird phantasm playing around in our minds, undercutting our stamina and will. Maybe last fight would have been over in the second round, but for the unexpected arrival of Al at the cage. Al was in lockdown, so I had to do this one on my own. I’m an admitted killer. I don’t really need much in the way of verbal kicks in the butt to get going. With me, it’s more of a mood thing. I planned to see respect in The Rattler’s eyes before the first round ended.
The Rattler picked a hard rock tune for his intro that had me clenching fists, and concentrating on my feet to keep from moving to the beat. I knew Tommy waited for me to make one little rhythmic movement of enjoyment in order to bop me on the head. I stared at the big screens above instead, able to watch Rattler’s approach without an attitude adjustment. Sure, it gave me goose-bumps. This whole place gave me goose-bumps. The crowd surpassed all expectations. I smiled. They wanted blood. Although we were the undercard on the docket tonight, our last fight had the fans ready for anything, and they wanted more of the same. No problem.
Hard Case IV: A Violent Life (John Harding Series Book 4) Page 33
