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At Peace
Tilting his head to the side, Jack could see the new arrivals through the dust streaked window. A black Monte Carlo SS skidded to a side winding halt in the dust “parking lot” and four boys jumped out, slamming their doors as they walked towards the shop. A small bell above the front door rang and footsteps could be heard approaching the counter. The four teenagers stopped at the counter, three of them looking around, bored. A hand slammed on the counter top.
“Hey, can I get some service here, or what?” A boy in a leather jacket said. Swiveling his stool around, Jack finally regarded the customers before him. Jacks Aviators glasses hid his sharp, green eyes.
Jack studied the four for a moment, making the teenager in the leather jacket impatient. Finally, Jack said, “Yeah. What is it that you need?”
“My car’s running like shit. I need you to fix it, so we can get out of here, quickly. We’ve got somewhere to be.” He slammed his keys down on the counter, turned, and began to walk out.
“Could have something to do with the way you drive.” Jack said.
Stunned, the kid turned around and stared at Jack. Angered by his inability to read Jacks expression the boy snarled a bit and walked back up to the counter. “What ever. Just fix it.” The last part was especially venomous.
Already, Jack did not like the kid. Then again, Jack didn’t like a lot of people. Most of them were annoying in some way or another. Many were incapable of being polite.
The guy in the leather jacket hit one of his buddies on the shoulder and jerked his head to tell the others it was time to get out. They followed him out like slinking hounds following their pack leader. “What are we gonna do out there, Brendan?” One of his trailing buddies asked him as they exited.
Brendan. Jack would remember that. Jack always made a point to remember names. It was one of the many things that he did that irked people. They were often uncomfortable with not knowing how he did things, let alone why, as Jack never explained himself to anyone. Not even to those who were closest to him. Who weren’t really very close at all.
Jack scooped up the keys, stood up, and walked through the door that led to the garage. The garage door was open, and his boss was underneath a car, working on an oil leak. “Got a new job, George.”
The man slid out from underneath the car, and lifted his head up. His blue work suit was splattered and smeared with oil. He had streaks of oil on his cheeks as well. He wiped his goggles slowly, and opened his large, round mouth to speak. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Looks like a Monte Carlo SS. The underside is probably beaten to all hell. Seems to be a reckless driver.”
“Now come on, Jack. You can’t just make assumptions about our customers when they walk in. Try bein’ a little nicer to our customers, will ya?”
“Yeah, what ever. I’ll go bring the car in.”
“Thanks, Jack.” Sliding back underneath the car.
Jack walked out of the garage door and walked over to where the car was parked. A shout came to him from the other side of the building. “Hey! Try not to scratch her any! Wouldn’t want you to have to pay for something you’re gonna fix!” It was Brendan, his buddies heads popping up from around his shoulders like oversized, grinning imps hanging onto his frame.
“Don’t worry. You’re car is safe with me in the drivers seat.” Jack said. He said it just loud enough for Brendan to hear him, and with enough emphasis on his words to drive home an underlying point. Brendan snarled again, and disappeared around the corner.
Once Jack had the black car jacked up, he threw his brown Levis jacket and black hat onto a toolbox near by, took off his Aviators, and slid underneath the car to take a look. Immediately, grime dripped onto his black t-shirt. Annoyed, Jack wiped his shirt with a white towel and pocketed the golden chain necklace that he was wearing.
As he was checking the problems with the car he heard faint laughter, from the far side of the building. Showing no changing emotion, Jack calmly slid out from underneath the car, put his Aviators back on, and slung the dirty white towel he was using over his shoulder. The pavement thudded quietly with each slow step that Jack took as he exited through the back. Walking silently along the backside, Jack could hear the laughter growing louder.
Rounding the corner, Jack was revolted to see Brendan pissing on the side of the building. The only evidence of Jacks repugnance for the scene was a slight rearing of his head, and an arched eyebrow that peaked slightly above the top of his Aviators.
“Mind?” Jack asked, simply.
Surprised, Brendan hastily withdrew and sealed up his package. Once again angered, Brendan sneered at Jack. The hyenas behind Brendan finally stopped snickering.
“What the hell? Were you trying to get a look at my junk, you queer?” Brendan said.
“Queer?” Jack asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. “No. But I think you’re friends enjoyed the show, Brendan. A lot.”
The smug look on the Hyenas faces had been wiped off in a fraction of a second, and Brendan’s look of mixed surprise and anger turned into one of complete malevolence and hate.
Jack took out a large wrench from his baggy jeans pockets, and began twirling it around his fingers and hand. Brendan’s friends shied away some. Brendan pulled out a small pocket knife and stepped forward. Jack’s eyebrow arched a little more.
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-Fiction
-Honest, detailed feedback, por favor
_________________ .:Splak|AWOL Soldier
Red tank! Rubber Sled! What the box am I doing? I am a Walrus, thru && thru, gimme my bukket oar I'll eat u.
Awesome X wrote: It's kinda like fight club. First rule about recruitment, don't talk about recruitment. 2nd rule is do NOT talk about recruitment. Reaper wrote: PAIL 2 DA MAX!
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