Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One

by Adam Knight

  “Two nothing already?” I muttered.

  “Oh that Crosby is a menace,” Mom said in a small voice. “He’s always down in our end with his stick on the puck. It’s not fair.”

  Propped up on four or five different pillows and tucked up to her waist in comforters, my mother Linda watched the game with rapt attention. She watched all the games though I’m not certain she’s ever really understood what was going on. Always with insistent cries for her team to “Go to their end, stay away from ours!” and other such helpful advice. To be fair she came by it honestly, as I remember a lot of similar things being shouted at my grandfather’s TV screen as we watched his beloved New York Yankees when I would visit during lunchtime as a kid.

  Though Grandpa used a few more expletives that I wasn’t supposed to know or understand as I recall.

  Mom coughed wetly again into a tissue as I scooped up a few fresh ones and handed them to her, sweeping as many of the used ones into the nearby plastic bag we always kept handy for just this purpose. Some weeks we went through more tissue paper than anything else in that house.

  Seeing her laid up on the couch always made my chest ache, and she was the one battling early onset heart disease. I always remember an energetic dynamo of a woman, bustling me from school to home every day. Constantly involved with the church, the PTA and still finding time to work part time with a local market research firm in the evenings. Tireless, enthusiastic and brilliant. Driven to set a good example for her kids and lead them by the ear to her level of energy even if we went there kicking and screaming.

  Which I often did.

  Now Mom spent the majority of her day laying back on that couch, propped up nice and high to help with her breathing. Never a big woman to begin with, the thirty or so pounds she had lost in the last few years left her looking frail and like a woman much older than her late fifties. Skin the color of chalk and the clamminess of a damp rag. Her hair – once thick and curly like mine – was stringy and limp.

  Doctors had wanted her moved to a medical care facility but Mom had refused. “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I am old enough to be in a home” she had said. The house had plenty of room now that it was just the two of us and held everything she needed. Plus, she was comfortable which was the most important thing. A home care nurse came by every other day while I was working to check her blood pressure and to help out with things that came up. A benefit that Mom resented needing but accepted out of reality.

  “Don’t stare at me like that, Joseph.” She admonished without looking away from the TV screen. “I’m right as rain.”

  A smile forced its way onto my face. A small smile. That’s all I could muster anymore.

  “I’m staring at your pillow nest, thinking about getting one for myself.”

  That sounded lame as I was saying it. But Mom still smiled.

  That’s what Moms do.

  “Well this one’s mine and you can’t have it.” She glanced at the time on the cable box before looking up at me. Her expression turned worried. It always did.

  Again. That’s what Moms do.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

  Forced smile did it’s work on my face again. “I’m always careful.”

  “It’s just so crazy in this city now. Not like it used to be at all.” She coughed and I handed her the fresh glass of water I was still carrying. She sipped as I started to clear the extra dishes.

  “I remember, Mom.”

  “We used to be able to take the bus downtown to go shopping without being harassed and intimidated by people. It was clean and well maintained.” Coughing she took another sip. “And now Winnipeg is the Murder Capital of Canada for the tenth straight year. Girls are going missing. Drugs and biker gangs are taking over neighborhoods.”

  “It’s not all bad out there.”

  She shook her head. “I read it in the paper every day. Even here in our own neighborhood. I used to let you boys run around and go to the river trails to play. Now I wouldn’t let a child out without being able to keep an eye on them at all times.”

  “Kids are tougher than you think, Mom.” A number of rough and tumble types from the downtown YMCA popped in my mind’s eye at the thought. I walked the dirty dishes into the kitchen and ran some water over them, before popping them into the dishwasher. It started on the third try after a brief Han Solo-esque rap on its control panel to get it going.

  “That’s also scary, Joe. Some of those kids are beyond bullies. They’re downright terrorists.”

  I winced. “Might be a bit far there, Mom.”

  “I hardly think so given all of the … Yes! Yes! Go to the other end!!”

  “Did we score?”

  “No but ..” coughing, bit of a gurgle from water consumption. “No but it was really close.”

  Watching the replay as I came back into the living room didn’t impress me overmuch with it being all that close. Two on two rush with a dribbling drop pass back to Poulin who fired though traffic at the net. Fleury had an easy stop. But it seemed to have awoken the crowd at the MTS Centre once again, so with any luck the Jets had a shot at getting one back before intermission.

  I placed my hand on Mom’s forehead and ignored the clammy chill. “I gotta go.”

  “Be safe and don’t be too late.”

  “I’ll do my best. Are you going to church in the morning?

  She shrugged slightly, her housecoat barely moving at all. ”Let’s see how I feel when I get up.”

  “Sure, Mom.” I stepped away and headed towards the kitchen. “Just wake me up if you want to go.”

  “Okay. I love you Joseph.”

  “Love you too.”

  Stomping my steel toed, second hand army surplus boots into place; I grabbed my coat, jingled my keys and headed out the door for the second half of my Saturday.

  Chapter 5

  It was quarter to nine by the time I had managed to find parking. With the hockey game three blocks away and the weekend party goers out in full force for their Saturday night debauchery, finding a spot on the street to fit my rusty 1995 Ford Windstar was a bit of a bitch. I was so far back on Waterfront Drive I would’ve been better off parking over at the Forks Market.

  But I was broke and street parking on weekends was free. Covered parkades close to the action were five bucks a night minimum. And since I went to bars on the weekends in order to make money, I put my chilly hands in my coat pockets and trudged five blocks through the slush to Cowboy Shotz.

  By a miracle I made it there without getting splashed to death by oncoming traffic and having to spend the rest of my night soaked to the skin. That did nothing for my feet however. Steel toed army issue these boots may have been, but second hand anything’s got wear and tear. So of course the squishing sound in my left boot guaranteed a night of one wet sock and some chafing discomfort from standing for six hours.

  My favorite.

  Outside the Main Street entrance a small line had already begun to queue up. The club was technically open already but standard policy was to make people wait until at least nine p.m. and even then only small groups in at any one time. Builds anticipation and theoretically convinces partygoers to arrive earlier next time.

  Lights and heavy, thumping music was already spilling out in to the street as I jaywalked across six lanes of sporadic traffic. I got honked at blaringly by a bus driver who was a good ten feet from even being a threat to hitting me. I nodded at him politely after hopping up onto the safety of the sidewalk.

  Big Mike was at his favorite place, right at the Main Street entrance where he could get first crack at welcoming the guests and charming the ladies. As I’ve mentioned before, most people would consider me big but Mike’s in a class all by himself. Pushing seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds of jacked, tanned and excessively pretty man he was the exact image that Aaron wanted to present to all patrons at Cowboy Shotz. Long legs, broad shoulders and beyond charming. Big Mike able to make hard-assed dudes drop their guar
ds a bit when things got complicated and made more than the ladies’ guards drop when he turned his perfect smile on them.

  I got along with Mike fine. Both of us were gym rats and had that to talk about, though it was clear which one of us was having greater success in the physical fitness department. He was a great guy to have at your back when things got all punchy in the club which thankfully was a rare thing with a guy like him, myself and others around.

  “Big man!” Mike barked in his deep baritone, clapping one of his freshly manicured meathooks on my shoulder with that damned Hollywood smile of his. “Starting to wonder if you were gonna make it.”

  I clapped Mike on his rock hard arm in return. “Yeah. Traffic. Sorry.” Patrons shivering in line started muttering to themselves at the half-ton of bouncer standing between them and their inebriation stations. I can admit it, we were an imposing sight. I spared them a glance. “Big crowd tonight?”

  Mike laughed, his blue eyes wide and bright. “Oh yeah, man. Gonna be a wild one.”

  Did he have to look so damned cheerful about it? All taller than me and built like a muscle car?

  What? I’m petty. Get used to it.

  I cleared my throat, looking back at the line again. “I may have a couple of friends coming down later tonight. Should I leave a name with you, or will you send someone for me when they get here?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Joe. You never have guests. Anyone you want in just has to drop your name. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Cool, thanks.” I clapped his arm again on the way past him, taking the steps inside.

  “Is she hot?” Mike called out from the sidewalk.

  I stopped on the stairs and looked back. Big Mike’s smile was wide as ever underneath his cowboy hat as he waited expectantly.

  For an irrational moment I nearly told him off. Who cares if Tamara was hot? Any of my friends who wanted to come out could come out, same as any other bouncer. More to the point, I didn’t need Mike’s approval for having hot friends did I?

  “You tell me, man.” I nodded to the line. “Have fun out here freezing your ass.”

  Downstairs in the club I hung up my coat in the staff room and tried to do something about the disaster that was my hair. Wet spring wind in Winnipeg made my curls a mess in a hurry.

  All around me various staff members made ready. Bartenders were checking their tills, making sure the counts provided by Aasif were accurate. Danny and some of the other young bouncers were nearby talking up each other’s most recent sexual exploit. A few of the waitresses were adjusting their outfits, trying to show just the right amount of cleavage in order to secure tips as opposed to negative attention.

  Leaving the staff room I began my nightly ritual of making a perimeter sweep of the club. Just to be sure there wasn’t anything out of place before we let the general public in.

  I started with the restrooms, did a lap around the basement checking in with both of the mini bars and headed up the side stairs to the VIP entrance at the loading dock.

  David and Mark held court here, complete with the guest list on a clipboard and earpieces already in place. I asked the same favor of them as I had from Big Mike, gingin a brief description of Tamara so they’d know her to see her.

  “She sounds hot,” Mark said with a touch of surprise. “Fitness desk chick? Good on you, Joe.”

  I sighed.

  “It’s not like that. She and her friends don’t get out much between work and school. Just helping them get a night out is all.”

  Mark nodded knowingly. Sagely, almost. “I hear ya, man, working the long game. All good.” He added Tamara’s name to the guest list. “She comes to this door I’ll come get you myself.”

  “Cool.”

  “Man have I got some good shit for you, Joe” David gruffed out at me in his usual deep chested bark. He leaned in conspiratorially and then kept his voice the same volume to be heard over the pounding sound system. “I got some new stuff in from my guy. When you’re ready to get serious in the gym and blast it up, I got the perfect stuff for you. A bit of test, some vee and you’ll be jacked the fuck up. Help you take care of this too.” He said the last bit while giving my abdomen a nudge.

  I took a step back from David’s six foot, two-hundred-and-sixty pound belly nudging frame and gave him a look. He was a monster, no doubts. Wider and thicker than Big Mike with veins bursting at his forearms and neck. His shoulders were doing a Lou Ferrigno impression with the seams of his security shirt. His big, wild beard the only hair on his face as the rest had retreated past the back of his skull.

  My abs tensed self-consciously after his frank assessment of my fatness but I kept my poker face up. “I’m good thanks. But I’ll let you know.”

  David nodded knowingly. “Damn straight man. All my boys get special rates. Guaranteed. I only make cash off scrubs.”

  Mark gave me a look and rolled his eyes away from David. He’d told me a story one time about some of David’s “supplements” and had been less than impressed with their price or efficacy.

  Or how they had affected his unit.

  I turned away and continued my sweep.

  Main floor looked good. Bartenders and waitresses were getting into position and doing final liquor preps. Bottle blonde Shelby was preparing her till and bottle count no matter how hard her excessive cleavage was trying to get in her way. The VIP Section near the front had that little velvet rope all set up and Aasif was there talking with an undersized new bouncer who’s name I didn’t care to remember. Several provocatively clad young ladies I didn’t recognize were in the section already, leaning against the champagne bar sipping frilly drinks and just looking attractive. Aasif nodded to me as I passed by.

  One of Aaron’s cop buddies was in VIP as well, Myron something. Smaller officer. Lean, wiry and dark. Not skinned, but dark hair and with a very calculating look in his eyes. Sorta like mine, I assumed. Scanning the building and everyone in it. Looking for trouble. We locked eyes for a second then moved on. Neither one of us was trouble.

  Coat check girls were good to go and already busy. Big Mike had started letting groups of people pass through in manageable numbers. Danny and two others were in position manning the cover charge and metal detection duties. One guy checking purses while the other passed a magnetic wand over everyone. Danny himself was checking ID’s and recording them in the photo scanner on the doorframe.

  I turned around and nearly bumped into Aaron as he led some friends down the stairs from the private floors, a hotter than hot girl on each tiny arm. Both girls would have stood taller than Aaron even if they hadn’t been propped up on stiletto heels. The stupid music was so loud and invasive that I didn’t hear them behind me at all.

  Aaron was all snazzed up in a brand new silver suit. One of those ones that gleamed like polyester but was actually closer to silk. His perfect teeth gleamed behind his fake, spray on tan as he saw me.

  “Joe,” he yelled. That music was really starting to get loud. And grating. Stupid loud music. “Gonna be a big night!”

  I nodded tightly with my small smile and locked my teeth together to hold in a yawn. One of us was going to have a big night with crowd control, the other a big night with cash coming into the coffers by the bucket load.

  I knew which guy I was.

  Aaron gestured with a cocktail loaded hand to his friends. “You know my business partners, right?”

  I didn’t know for sure they were business partners until just then, but I nodded again and extended my small smile to the other three off duty police officers that spent all their free time hanging around the club.

  Officer Chris Parise was a well groomed man whenever he came into the club. The physical example the Winnipeg Police Department likes to set for all their officers. Tall but not intimidating. Fit but not muscle bound. Agile and quick footed, as I’d seen firsthand a time or two. French-Canadian and bilingual. Well-spoken and not quick to violence. I’d seen articles in the newspapers where he had acted as a media
spokesperson on occasion, which is a big trusted position in the Police Force. It meant he was well-liked among the higher ups as well.