The next night Todd was ready for Jack. He feigned exhaustion and he and Blair turned in early. When he heard the noise of Jack trying to leave the house, he was prepared and followed his son.
He was surprised to see Jack walk a long distance across town, and enter The Break Bar at around eleven thirty in the evening. Todd had his driver circle the area, allowing Jack to get inside, before he parked or was noticed. Before disembarking the car, he just sat. Manning, be cool about this. He's just a kid, confused, been through a lot. Kind of like you. He spent a few more minutes and then thought of her. Blair. She would wake, see him gone, see Jack gone and panic. He called her. "Hey."
"Hi, Todd, what time is it?"
"It's 11:45 or so. I didn't want you to wake up and be scared when you didn't see me."
"Thanks for thinking of me, but what are you doing?"
"I wasn't going to tell you until I was sure it was okay, but let's say I'm tailing Jack."
She went silent. "What's he doing, Todd?"
"He's all right. When I get home, I will fill you in on the rest, and I'll have him with me. It will be okay, and I am asking you to trust me, Blair, with our son. Please."
He could hear her sigh. Her voice became weepy. "I do trust you."
"All right, Babe. I'll call you in a few minutes, when he's in the car." And he hung up.
Blair was not going to be able to sleep, so she ventured down to the lower level and got herself a hot tea and some cookies. She sat waiting for her husband's call.
***
Todd walked in to The Break Bar and skimmed the perimeter. He didn't see Jack at first, but noticed a scuffle breaking out in the back of the bar, near the pool tables. He made his way over there, hearing commotion and various loud voices. There was no mistaking the breakout of a brawl.
As he approached, he realized that there were two very large men standing in front of his son. Jack looked very small right then, but was shooting his mouth off nonetheless, and the last thing Todd heard before all Hell broke loose was Jack, anger in his voice, and a twinge of something else, saying, "Yeah? When's your baby due?" and making a circular movement near his own stomach to match that of the man. Looking closer, he realized Jack had a drink.
He stepped up in front of the men, between them and Jack. "Is there some kind of problem?"
The two men looked at each other. Neither appeared very clean, one had tattoos on his neck, the other had a huge beer belly that Jack was just poking fun at. "Who are you, his boyfriend?"
Todd laughed and then straightened his face. "No. His father. This kid is my son and he's underage."
The man with the tattoos walked closer to Todd. "So, you'd better do a better job with your kid, then. He's got a wise mouth that needs to be shut. And we were just about to shut it for him."
Todd couldn't see Jack, but he knew he was still behind him, since he had kept the corner of one eye on the door as he stood there. "I don't see how you can justify doing that. The kid is 15."
Pot Belly spoke. "He has the mouth of a grown man, he should be able to fight his own battles, Daddy."
Todd's own anger was rising in his gut, but he pushed it down. He was not 15 and he had to show his son that violence was not going to be the answer. He spoke, "Hey, listen, no harm done, he's just a kid. Let's just let me get him home and sobered up, and no one has to get hurt."
The two men looked at each other again, clearly itching for a fight. "Well he's definitely a kid," said Tattoo, "but you ain't." The man stepped forward menacingly.
So much for the non-violent approach. Todd simply shrugged and headbutted Tattoo, sending him flying against the pool table. Pot Belly came toward him, but seeing the look in his eye, he stopped, hesitating. Todd said, "Don't. Really. I've had one serious long bad day and it started 40 some years ago." The man, sizing up his opponent as quick-witted and exceeding fit, thumbed his nose. Then, seeing Tattoo on the ground, unconscious, flanked by a female biker and a waitress, he said, "You're too scrawny anyway," and turned away.
Todd turned to Jack. Jack, swaying a bit, shot glass in hand, said, "Wow, Dad, you're tough."
"Jack, let's go." He brought Jack to the front of the bar, and then, thinking it over, realized that the place had let his fifteen year old son in and allowed him to drink. Putting Jack into the car, who promptly passed out in the passenger seat, he asked the driver to watch Jack and headed back in.
"I'd like to see the manager, please?"
A waitress chewing gum like her life depended on it said, "He's in the back. Try the drapes."
Todd saw Tattoo and Pot Belly going back to their game. He crossed over to the bathrooms and saw a curtain door, leading to what he assumed was the back room. Once there, he saw another door cracked slightly open, and being an investigative reporter at heart, he wanted to see what it was. Pushing the door slightly more open, he saw a scene he would definitely file away for later. The Managing Editor of The Banner was on a sofa, partially clothed, with a woman half his age. She was sitting over him, in scant clothing, gyrating, and his head was flung back. Lining the walls of the room were various other doors, leading to other places, and one of them opened, revealing a man in a suit fastening his tie, and walking toward the door at which Todd was standing. He quickly ducked against the wall behind the door, and the man exited, not even realizing Todd was there.
At that moment, someone he immediately took as the manager of The Break Bar came out from another door to his left, and said, "What are you doing here?"
"The waitress told me to come back here to find you."
This did not make the manager very happy. "What do you need? I'm busy with paperwork."
Todd explained how Jack, only 15, had gotten into the bar and was served alcohol. The manager didn't seem to care much. "Keep your kid home, buster."
"Wait a second, this is a crime, you can be cited for it, it's illegal. Come on, he's just a kid. Don't you have kids?"
"No, I don't. What's it to you?"
Todd sighed, "Look, don't let my kid in here again. In fact, don't let any kids in here again, or it might make a great story for the front page." Not waiting for a response, he turned to leave, keeping in the file cabinet of his mind the scene in the back room.
He was surprised to see Jack walk a long distance across town, and enter The Break Bar at around eleven thirty in the evening. Todd had his driver circle the area, allowing Jack to get inside, before he parked or was noticed. Before disembarking the car, he just sat. Manning, be cool about this. He's just a kid, confused, been through a lot. Kind of like you. He spent a few more minutes and then thought of her. Blair. She would wake, see him gone, see Jack gone and panic. He called her. "Hey."
"Hi, Todd, what time is it?"
"It's 11:45 or so. I didn't want you to wake up and be scared when you didn't see me."
"Thanks for thinking of me, but what are you doing?"
"I wasn't going to tell you until I was sure it was okay, but let's say I'm tailing Jack."
She went silent. "What's he doing, Todd?"
"He's all right. When I get home, I will fill you in on the rest, and I'll have him with me. It will be okay, and I am asking you to trust me, Blair, with our son. Please."
He could hear her sigh. Her voice became weepy. "I do trust you."
"All right, Babe. I'll call you in a few minutes, when he's in the car." And he hung up.
Blair was not going to be able to sleep, so she ventured down to the lower level and got herself a hot tea and some cookies. She sat waiting for her husband's call.
***
Todd walked in to The Break Bar and skimmed the perimeter. He didn't see Jack at first, but noticed a scuffle breaking out in the back of the bar, near the pool tables. He made his way over there, hearing commotion and various loud voices. There was no mistaking the breakout of a brawl.
As he approached, he realized that there were two very large men standing in front of his son. Jack looked very small right then, but was shooting his mouth off nonetheless, and the last thing Todd heard before all Hell broke loose was Jack, anger in his voice, and a twinge of something else, saying, "Yeah? When's your baby due?" and making a circular movement near his own stomach to match that of the man. Looking closer, he realized Jack had a drink.
He stepped up in front of the men, between them and Jack. "Is there some kind of problem?"
The two men looked at each other. Neither appeared very clean, one had tattoos on his neck, the other had a huge beer belly that Jack was just poking fun at. "Who are you, his boyfriend?"
Todd laughed and then straightened his face. "No. His father. This kid is my son and he's underage."
The man with the tattoos walked closer to Todd. "So, you'd better do a better job with your kid, then. He's got a wise mouth that needs to be shut. And we were just about to shut it for him."
Todd couldn't see Jack, but he knew he was still behind him, since he had kept the corner of one eye on the door as he stood there. "I don't see how you can justify doing that. The kid is 15."
Pot Belly spoke. "He has the mouth of a grown man, he should be able to fight his own battles, Daddy."
Todd's own anger was rising in his gut, but he pushed it down. He was not 15 and he had to show his son that violence was not going to be the answer. He spoke, "Hey, listen, no harm done, he's just a kid. Let's just let me get him home and sobered up, and no one has to get hurt."
The two men looked at each other again, clearly itching for a fight. "Well he's definitely a kid," said Tattoo, "but you ain't." The man stepped forward menacingly.
So much for the non-violent approach. Todd simply shrugged and headbutted Tattoo, sending him flying against the pool table. Pot Belly came toward him, but seeing the look in his eye, he stopped, hesitating. Todd said, "Don't. Really. I've had one serious long bad day and it started 40 some years ago." The man, sizing up his opponent as quick-witted and exceeding fit, thumbed his nose. Then, seeing Tattoo on the ground, unconscious, flanked by a female biker and a waitress, he said, "You're too scrawny anyway," and turned away.
Todd turned to Jack. Jack, swaying a bit, shot glass in hand, said, "Wow, Dad, you're tough."
"Jack, let's go." He brought Jack to the front of the bar, and then, thinking it over, realized that the place had let his fifteen year old son in and allowed him to drink. Putting Jack into the car, who promptly passed out in the passenger seat, he asked the driver to watch Jack and headed back in.
"I'd like to see the manager, please?"
A waitress chewing gum like her life depended on it said, "He's in the back. Try the drapes."
Todd saw Tattoo and Pot Belly going back to their game. He crossed over to the bathrooms and saw a curtain door, leading to what he assumed was the back room. Once there, he saw another door cracked slightly open, and being an investigative reporter at heart, he wanted to see what it was. Pushing the door slightly more open, he saw a scene he would definitely file away for later. The Managing Editor of The Banner was on a sofa, partially clothed, with a woman half his age. She was sitting over him, in scant clothing, gyrating, and his head was flung back. Lining the walls of the room were various other doors, leading to other places, and one of them opened, revealing a man in a suit fastening his tie, and walking toward the door at which Todd was standing. He quickly ducked against the wall behind the door, and the man exited, not even realizing Todd was there.
At that moment, someone he immediately took as the manager of The Break Bar came out from another door to his left, and said, "What are you doing here?"
"The waitress told me to come back here to find you."
This did not make the manager very happy. "What do you need? I'm busy with paperwork."
Todd explained how Jack, only 15, had gotten into the bar and was served alcohol. The manager didn't seem to care much. "Keep your kid home, buster."
"Wait a second, this is a crime, you can be cited for it, it's illegal. Come on, he's just a kid. Don't you have kids?"
"No, I don't. What's it to you?"
Todd sighed, "Look, don't let my kid in here again. In fact, don't let any kids in here again, or it might make a great story for the front page." Not waiting for a response, he turned to leave, keeping in the file cabinet of his mind the scene in the back room.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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