Jack’s Luck and Loyalty
On a late summer evening in Colorado Springs, Jack sat on his usual barstool toward the back of the bar. He and his crew, just finished a one million dollar foundation on the edge of a newly built golf course. It was his company’s largest job so far. Jack was excited to be done, it was a long job, with his small crew, they had been working this job from early June into late August. Yet he did not exspress his excitement. He mostly seemed like his usual calm self.
As if he could feel something stirring in the air, Jack was weary and watchful. At the other end of the bar, three huge bikers sat drinking shots. Loud and being extremely rude towards everyone else in the bar.
After a couple of drinks and observing the bikers, while sitting at the bar. Jack got up from his stool and shuffled over to the pool table to setup a game. Having played since he was just ten years old, he was quite skilled. “A real natural” his dad would regularly call him. All of Jack’s siblings played pool. Even after more than thirty years, he still loved the game.
Jack shot a practice game by himself, while he was waiting for his friend Scruff. Maybe fifteen minutes after Jack started playing, he saw a familiar faced biker stroll through the front door of the bar. Scruff waltzed up to the bar, leaned up next to the three rowdy bikers, and asked the bartender for his usual beam and coke. “You got a problem? Or do you just not know how mind your own business” remarked one of the three bikers.
Scruff, looking back at him replied “no problem that can’t be solved with this” as he was gesturing to the beam and coke that was on its way over. Scruff looked at the bartender and said “Just start a tab for me Joe.”
Holding his drink, Scruff looked around the bar, toward the pool table, where Jack was playing, and went over to join Jack at the pool table. “Good evening boss” Scruff said as he grabbed a cue stick from the display on the wall. Scruff took a few sips as Jack finished up his practice game.
Jack racked up the pool table again. “Alright, you know the rules. I rack, you break” Jack said as he spiraled the triangle around in his fingers before putting it away.
Scruff took another swig from his drink and set it down. Immediately picking up his stick he responded “say no, say no more.” With that he lined himself up for the break and the game began.
Three drinks and two games later, it was ten minutes until ten o’clock and almost time to leave. “Well I suppose, it’s about that time hey Scruff” asked Jack.
“Yeah, I suppose your right. It’s time to pay Joe and go” Scruff responded. “Are you paying tonight or am I?”
Jack looked at Scruff grinned and said “I thought you were saying something about the loser paying?”
Scruff shrugged his shoulders, smirking back at Jack’s smile, chuckling. “Oh yeah, I guess your right I did say that… But to be fair, I really thought tonight was going to be my night for victory” he stated.
Jack’s grin grew to a smile and he laughed at Scruff’s comment. As he finished the ice in his glass Jack added “Now that would have really been something!”
Scruff reluctantly walked up to the bar and stood in close proximity to the till, which is where the group of bikers still were. Scruff nodded at them to acknowledge them, while he was waiting for Joe.
Joe walked over from where he was cleaning up empty glasses. He perched up by the register and asked “time to throw in the towel hey Scruff?”
Scruff shrugged as he pulled out his wallet, full of hundred dollar bills from cashing his entire paycheck. “Oh and Joe, let me get my boss’s tab too” he said as he pulled out a hundred dollar bill.
At this point Scruff noticed all three bikers were taking a note to his overly full wallet. When the group recognized that Scruff saw them staring at his wallet, the biggest one stood up. Easily a foot taller than Scruff, he snickered “you heard the man. He’s getting our tab.”
Scruff laughed looking at the potential leader of the group. He turned his head back towards Joe and clarified “I actually meant my actual boss, Jack. Not this joker.” Joe handed Scruff his bill for the two tabs, Scruff paid and walked toward where Jack had moved to back on his usual barstool in the corner of the bar.
“One more round” exclaimed Jack as Scruff sat down. “Only this one is on me” he added while signaling Joe for two more. Which Joe had already started making.
Joe handed them their drinks and then asked “starting up another tab gentlemen?”
Jack quickly responded “nope, just one more drink before we hit the road. You sir, can keep the change too.” Handing Joe a twenty dollar bill for the two beam and cokes.
Jack and Scruff sipped off their drinks and watched as Joe put the twenty in the till and gave the bikers their bill. The leader of the group saw the bill and abruptly commented “sheesh ouch, we are going to need to recoup some of this money fellas.” He turned towards the door where his associates were standing waiting and they all proceeded to leave.
Jack finished his drink just in time to laugh and say “look I won again.” Scruff shook his head in disagreement as they both chuckled. “Better luck next time” Jack joked. The two set down their glasses and started heading toward the door.
As Jack and Scruff walked outside, they both noticed the three Harley-Davidsons still sitting by the entrance. “I wonder what the heck happened to them” Scruff remarked.
Jack’s truck was first, and as they were parting ways Jack smiled and said “that was fun. We should play again after I get from Camping with the family.” Jack shook Scruffs hand and added “sometime next week. You have yourself a great weekend though, and stay out of trouble.”
“Thanks Jack, I hope you and your family have fun camping. Don’t you worry about me. Trouble always seems to find me.” Scruff then turned and started walking towards his truck. Seeing the biker’s Harleys up there he thought to himself how much he wished his Harley was here.
Scruff took his truck keys out of his pocket, put them in the door and felt someone grab onto his shoulder. Scruff was grabbed and spun around by none other than the leader of the biker group. That same prick from in the bar now held Scruff up against the side of his truck.
All three bikers were there. Scruff, half the size of the smallest biker, didn’t stand a chance. The leader of the group looked around, still holding Scruff against the truck with his one hand, reached back and pulled out a knife with the other hand and said “we are going to teach you why you mind your own damn business boy.”
The leader was confident that the other two in the group had his back. He had money to take, whatever means necessary. He was so focused on intimidating Scruff he didn’t even glance when he heard one of the other bikers say “hey buddy, kick rocks! Well unless you want to end up like this guy.”
“Oh I like a good game of chance… I think the question really is, how lucky do you feel?” It was Jack, holding a massive open faced wrench he used to fix a hydraulic line on their Caterpillar D7 bulldozer.
There are good and fair fights, but this was not one of them. The actual fight didn’t even last long enough to get noticed. Thirty seconds after Jack arrived the two bikers keeping watch were both battered, bloody, and unconscious on the ground. The leader had hardly noticed both of his companions lying on the blacktop as he looked over his shoulder. He was mostly shocked when he saw Jack standing behind him. Dropping Scruff to the ground, he spun a one-eighty just in time to see the end of Jack’s swing, lights out.
Unfortunately at this point there was allot of blood on the pavement, it was noticed almost immediately by a cab driver pulling into the parking lot on a call. He was concerned and didn’t have time to investigate so he dialed nine-one-one and reported what he had seen. Because of the description of the emergency, it wasn’t even five minutes before two squad cars came flying down the road and screeched into the parking lot.
The group of four officers urgently got out of their vehicles and walked over to where Jack, Scruff, and the three bikers still laying on the ground. “Good evening, I am Sergeant Peters with the CSPD,” one of the officers said. The sergeant, while scanning his surroundings he asked, “what in the hell happened here?”
Jack explained the whole situation to the sergeant, while Scruff gave his statement about the nights events to another officer. The other two had been trying to identify the bikers as their faces were unrecognizable. When the EMT arrived the officers pulled the bikers’ wallets to check their licenses. After identifying the bikers and confirming that all three were on the FBI’s most wanted list, the Sergeant reapproached where Jack and Scruff had been waiting.
“You know that I am not buying your statement of unarmed self-defense. There is no way you can punch that hard” Sergeant Peters said. He paused, then looked at the two and added “however, those three have been evading the law for almost a decade, and I for one, am just glad to get them put behind bars.” Again the sergeant paused to look around.
With a smirk that resembled a grin he turned his attention back toward Jack and said “so as long as your willing to testify in court that you did all this damage to them in self-defense while unarmed. You are on the right side of the law helping put these guys away and your both free to go.”
Jack, knew he should’ve been going in that squad car. But instead, he looked back at sergeant Peters, smiling, reaching out to shake sergeant Peters’ hand Jack said “now that sounds like a square deal to me.”
Jack, had always been a person who acted without hesitation for the right cause, but for him this was the first time he had acted and had any real reassurance that what he did was helpful to the community. Jack went on to live a life inspired around the moto, ‘if it feels like the right thing to do, just act’ he was always the first person to help when he saw there was a need. May we all strive to be present and do our parts in aiding our community around us. Never hesitate, because that is surely the day we missed our chance at being our best self.
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