5
(Barroom Brawl)
The small town of Pine Gap, where Paul resided, was where time seemed to stand still. It was a unique place, distinct from the rest of the world that had moved past it. Despite having modern amenities like electricity and internet service, its population of 5,183, including Ed and Regina Whites’ newest born, gave it a small-town charm. The town's culture was not defined by flashy malls but by its two fast-food restaurants, a McDonald's and a Hardees, and the epitome of its cultural scene was a Walmart, which was not even a Super Walmart. A local pharmacy had a mom-and-pop shop and a burger stand where Paul said they made good milkshakes. The air in Pine Gap was always filled with the scent of pine trees. The sound of children playing in the streets was a familiar melody, a reminder of simpler times when life was less complicated and more peaceful. The town was nestled in a valley, surrounded by rolling hills and dense forests, providing a picturesque backdrop to everyday life. It was a place where the past and the present coexisted, where modernity met tradition in a unique blend.
In Pine Gap, parents could take a break, sitting in Gerald’s Barber Shop while their children played freely without worry. The town's security was in the hands of two elected constables, Fred Conners and Kathy Arness. One was always on patrol, ensuring the town's safety, while the other was ready to respond immediately. With their friendly smiles and reassuring presence, these constables were not just law enforcement officers but also trusted community members, known by everyone and always ready to lend a helping hand. The community was further strengthened by Castle Hardware and Castle Building Supplies, both well-stocked and ready to serve. There was a local medical clinic with four practicing physicians, each with a unique approach to healthcare. It was called Pine Gap Primary Care. If one requires a hospital, you must drive down the mountain to Johnson City or north into southern Virginia. This self-sufficiency, this ability to meet the townsfolk’s own needs, is something locals took pride in throughout Pine Gap.
All the shopping places were on Main Street, and locals still owned many stores. There just weren’t enough people to warrant large chains to build here. Walmart, the two fast food places, and a Dollar General Store were the exceptions. Paul said that even when Walmart opened, it did not get much business for a while. People eventually came around, though, and now it was always busy. It did have a grocery department. But another chain was present, which had once been a Red Food. It was now a Food City as the two chains had merged. These local stores, each with its unique story and owner, were a testament to the town's close-knit community and its resilience against the influence of large chains. It was a community where everyone knew everyone, where a simple wave or a friendly nod was enough to make you feel at home.
The locals looked upon large chain restaurants and shopping places much the way they did strangers. Okay, to be friendly, but until you get to know them, an outsider. There was a local pool hall that was more than just a venue for playing pool. It was a social hub where people gathered to catch up, share stories, and sometimes engage in friendly competition. His Master had cautioned Ridley about going in and gambling. There were some ace pool shots. They practically lived in the place and were always looking to relieve someone of a $20 bill. Of course, there were other places to shoot pool, and this early evening brought Ridley driving with his passenger, Renault De Char Le Maine. It had progressed to late February, and Paul told him if he was cautious and accompanied by either him or Char Le Maine, it was okay for him to venture out to town.
There were also still traditional places in Pine Gap that had seemed as old of time in Tennessee. These were not just bars and restaurants but traditional taverns with unique charm and character. Each tavern had its own story, regulars, and unique offerings. Char Le Maine explained there were four, and most regulars went to each. That is where they always thought there would be some crossover. They were going to the largest of the four, which was right in the middle of town, called The Midway Bar and Grill. Ridley had fallen for Paul big time, and it was reciprocated, but that house became oppressive after a while. They continued to work at deciphering the texts, and slowly, Ridley became more adept.
He was driving Paul’s Grand Cherokee, and it paid to have a subscription to satellite radio up here—unless one was a country music fan. Master, his Apprentice, and Char Le Maine were not. As Ridley carefully followed the speed limit, they came into town. Even on a cold February night in the mountains, people were out. It was bitterly cold. They were used to it, and everyone they drove by uncannily threw a hand up. Minus a middle finger, People here knew what Paul was and respected him. By extension, they had heard of or seen Ridley. They now accepted him, and people were serious about that up here. He was now one of them. It was known that he would succeed Paul, which was a big deal. Char Le Maine was known in these mountains before the modern United States won independence.
People here still remember things like the French helping the Colonialists against the British. Stories and a sense of history were passed in school and from father to son. Mother to daughter, history was important here, not something to quickly look up a fact about on a cell phone. They drove past a group of guys who all threw their hands up, and one was so drunk he fell over on the sidewalk.
Char Le Maine said, “Whoopsie. It seems as if that one had a bit much antifreeze.”
Ridley asked, “So, Char Le Maine, how long have you been familiar with this area?” He was being cautious that no one fell in front of them. No wonder the speed limit was 15 mph throughout the city.
Char Le Maine said, “I have stood on these grounds before there was a Pine Gap. I am just about older than he hills, it seems.”
Ridley was approaching their destination, and it was a Friday night, so it was packed. Six packed, one could say. He asked, “So, what can I expect in this place? Why are we coming here again?”
If Ridley wasn’t sure, the Vampire just grinned, “There are several things that will never change about the world. The sun rises and sets. Antionio, my old progeny, is back around, and if he is to be found, it will be in the largest establishment, such as the Midway. I am to talk with him; you, my young friend, can expect cold beer on an even colder night. Though not too much, you must manipulate this contraption.”
Ridley was parallel parking on the street down from their destination as the lot was packed. He asked, “You don’t drive?”
Char Le Maine looked at him and said, “Why should I when I have you to do it? No, Mon Ami, I do not drive. I never had reason to say it does not suit me. My bound ones or a friendly warmblood like yourself always did that.” He did smile this time, “Even now, one does. His name is Ridley, and he is proficient at manipulating this gadget.”
Ridley pulled over and finally parked. They got out, and he engaged the burglar alarm system. He looked to see if anyone was watching them. It was clear that no one was. He spoke some ancient words, and a blue barrier flashed over the jeep’s exterior momentarily and disappeared. Much more efficient than any burglar alarm system, someone but him or his companion tried to enter it. They were in for a shocking experience. They walked side by side towards the Midway Bar and Grill. The cold air smelled of smoked pork, cholesterol city, but tasty, nonetheless. As they walked through the parking lot, one of the patrons of the Midway, who had what they called a snoot-full, had passed out in the cold parking lot.
As they were walking by, Char Le Maine reached down and effortlessly snatched up what must be around a two-hundred-pound man and carried him into the Midway. Ridley stepped into what was like a different world. The air was hazy with tobacco smoke. No indoor smoking was allowed up here, as half the people in the joint were doing it. As they entered the place proper, Char Le Maine just sort of dropped the passed-out man over to the side with a thud. Char Le Maine did not require being invited into this place to be potent. It was a public establishment that only worked in private residences.
To the left of the door was a regulation-sized Brunswick pool table. Two guys were holding pool sticks and playing nine-ball. To the right was a large bar counter, and three people behind it were busy handing out beer and food to patrons. Directly to the back of them was a giant jukebox blaring some country music. Ridley never listened to it, so he had yet to learn who the artist was. That is the direction they walked in. Groups were seated at tables and around the bar. To the back and left of the Jukebox were doors leading to restrooms.
Everyone looked up when they came in but returned to their business when they saw who it was. Ridley followed Char Le Maine directly to the jukebox, which indicated that 17 tracks were waiting to play. The Vampire effortlessly moved it away from the wall and unplugged it. After a moment, he plugged it back up, and the panel said power failure. When it started back up, the tracks were cleared.
He looked to Ridley, “Would you be so kind as to manipulate this contraption, so we don’t have to listen to that infernal noise?”
Ridley took out his wallet, took a $20 bill, and fed it into the machine. It took him a few minutes, but he selected twenty rock and roll tracks on the machine. It was stuff like Jackson Brown and Bob Seger. Foreigner’s double vision began, and they turned back to the crowd. He had done this more than once, as no one said a thing or even looked. They only cared about the music playing and who would get the next round.
Before they even went there, Ridley could see this: Antonio Seville. He had the same type of aura as Char Le Maine’s but was not as bright. He was seated at a table with a few people. One of them was Johnny Temple, who had been seated next to Victor at the dance. They went directly to them. Char Le Maine might not be on the friendliest of terms with them, but his manners were exemplary.
He indicated some empty chairs at the table, “Gentlemen, Antonio, may we?”
Ridley noticed that Johnny Temple was staring at him again. He did not look hostile. Char Le Maine pulled a seat out for him, and unaccustomed to that, Ridley took a seat opposite Antionio and Johnny. The Vampire seated himself beside him and disregarded everyone but Antonio.
Antonio Seville had been a handsome devil in this life. He had good features, long dark hair, and almond-colored eyes. He was wearing jeans and a leather Jacket. He looked like a mix between a fashion show that had crashed with a hardcore Harley Davidson enthusiast, and out he had come. He spoke, and his voice had a silky quality to it. Ridley didn’t have another explanation for it.
He said, “Renault, I am surprised you have not yet poached this scrumptious morsel off Paul.”
Johnny Temple offered his hand to Ridley, “Sorry about the Lady thing at the dance. It wasn’t me, but I am generally peaceable. Victor is an asshole for certain.”
Ridley shook his hand. He held it longer than usual for a handshake but could see his aura. No magic, Ridley knew that look in his eyes and on his face. Shit! Just what he did not need was an 18-year-old bag of puppy love. Johnny pulled his hand back to himself but still looked. There was no doubt about it, as he liked Ridley.
Char Le Maine said to Antonio, “Your answer?”
Antonio replied, “Yes, we are at peace, this one, and I have left Victor. This one may become bound to me, I have asked.”
Ridley had ordered a round of beers for everyone from a big-boned woman.
Still looking at Ridley, Johnny Temple said, “Unless you will need an Apprentice who is not a novice someday?”
Right behind them, the redneck special was taking on passengers, and soon, everyone in this place would be on that train. The two men playing nine-ball were the most bitter enemies, mainly when alcohol was involved. One, Lester Holt, was related to about half the people in the bar. The other, Tim Shuster, was associated with the other half. Their rivalry ran back to Middle School. Up here, a grudge died hard.
Lester had won four games in a row, especially when Tim was so drunk he could hardly stand. The following sequence of events was like incidents in joints like this since they existed. If it were not funny, it would almost be tragic.
All of this happened in sequence to create the incident that it did. The big-boned woman sat a pitcher of beer amongst the two vampires and mages. Lester was bent over the table about to make the nine-ball. Tim, who had understandably had enough of this shit. He took his #20 pool stick and, if in slow motion, would have looked like a Peter Seller’s movie. His face contorted, he screamed something unintelligible and promptly broke the pool stick over Lester’s head. The stick snapped, and Laster went down a significant stick fragment. The Vampires could not react to catch as they were not paying attention. The fragment whirled through the air perfectly and broke the pitcher of beer on their table. This had sort of a strange explosive effect. Char Le Maine, Antonio, Ridley, and Johnny Temple got a nice shower in beer.
The effect inside the Midway was almost magical, but neither Ridley nor Johnny Temple had cast any magic. Everything stopped as if the flow of time had ended. It took about a second for it to register with one-half of the bar related to Lester to realize. At the same time, the half-on Tim realized, and everyone in that damn joint began fighting. Ridley had never seen anything like it. It was like wrestling’s Saturday Night Main Event, except it was Friday.
Scientists who had never seen such an effect would discover it one day. It would be regarded as the alcohol magnification on the redneck hostility effect. Everyone but Char Le Maine and Antonio seemed concerned. Char Le Maine looked slightly annoyed.
As beer bottles were thrown, one guy was slung over the bar top, and Johnny Temple erected a weak magical shield around their group at the table. Ridley reached out and strengthened it significantly. Things flew, punches were thrown, and glass was broken; Ridley looked at them all in shock. He thought questioningly about adults acting in fashion. As he watched, he did not know the man. His name was Honley Dixon, and he had a bad reputation for this sort of thing; he had drawn a knife and was getting ready to use it against his opponent. Ridley concentrated and mumbled some quick ancient words.
A moment later, Honley Dixon went to put his weapon into a man named Ryan Jordan and stabbed him with a bouquet of roses right in the stomach. A few struggling men beside them saw Honley offering flowers to Ryan and paused long enough to laugh. It was a momentary truce, and they went back to it. It was like a redneck version of that song by Carl Douglas called “Kung Fu Fighting.” Johnny Temple thought the same way and waved his hand while speaking. That song began to play on the jukebox.
Ridley and the three at his table sat safely, shielded by the invisible barrier. The beer had liberally splashed them, but they were otherwise untouchable. A guy was slammed through the table next to them. This disturbance had not gone unnoticed by Kathy Arness, so she pulled her police jeep up outside and opened the door briefly for a fast look-see, quickly closing it just as fast. She calmly walked to her Jeep and removed a device from the back that looked like a heavy gauge shotgun. It was something called a Devastator Pepper Spray grenade projector. As everyone inside but Ridley and company were busy fighting, she loaded it and walked calmly to the front door.
Constable Arness opened the door, held it in place with her knee, raised the Devastator projector, and fired a canister into the Midway Bar and Grill. It shot straight through and hit the wall next to the jukebox, and there was a loud popping sound. A cloud of orange-looking gas began to come from it and slowly spread through the establishment. The four at the table saw it heading their way and now looked concerned. None knew the particulars of Devastator Pepper gas, but it packed nearly three million Scoville Heating Units, which would most assuredly get your attention. It was an oil-based resin that would not kill anyone or cause permanent harm. It would, however, stop the fighting.
Char Le Maine told his table companions, “Time to go, I think.”
Ridley dropped the magic shielding and replied, getting up, “That is the understatement of the century.”
The four got up before it reached them and went out the door where Constable Arness was watching some that had been hit with it stumble drunkenly out the door. As they passed, Ridley’s companion said, “Constable.”
She was a healthy-looking black-haired woman in navy blue pants and a white shirt. She tilted her head and said, “Char Le Maine, the tigers are restless tonight. Do you have any idea who started the mess?”
They honestly had not been paying attention, and Ridley shrugged his shoulders—the four parted ways into two groups of two, going in opposite directions. As Ridley drove them home, he and Char Le Maine said little to one another. Soon, Ridley was pulling into the garage at home. They went inside, and Paul sat there reading a book. Ridley leaned over him on the couch and kissed him for a few minutes.
His Master told him, “Shower for you, young man, as you smell like a forest fire extinguished by a torrent of stale beer. I take it you two went into one of the local establishments. Both of you reek of cheap beer. Let me guess, the Midway?”
Ridley got ready for the shower, and Char Le Maine explained. Paul listened, looking amused, as he had been in a few. This was hardly a rare occurrence in that joint. When the door opened, Ridley was fresh out of the shower, combing his hair. Paul came up behind him, hugged him, and began kissing his neck. The Apprentice looked into the mirror at the kind features of his Master. Just the kind he wanted to kiss. He quickly brushed his teeth as Paul continued kissing on his neck.
The Master reached around him and felt of his hardening dick. He playfully said, “What kind of delinquent are you? In the middle of a barroom brawl at the Midway. I believed you were always such a nice young man.”
Ridley turned to him and said, “Facetious fabrications, I assure you, as I am a scoundrel of the highest order.” He leaned in and kissed Paul back, which was so lovely. They continued to kiss, but then they stumbled into the bedroom and fell over on the bed. His Apprentice began slowly kissing his way down his Master’s chest. His Master put a hand gently on the top of his head, encouraging him. His Apprentice did not need a great deal of that. He worked on down till he reached Pau’s hardness. He began to slowly and enthusiastically lick up and down the length of it.
His Master said through moaning, “I see, not so good after all, some might say naughty. I can live with that kind of behavior.”
Ridley had now taken Paul’s hard dick into his mouth and began to work up and down on it slowly. This felt fantastic to his Master. He was getting more assertive in his magic and learning other things. Good things: most would not complain about their partner being good at such skills. If some did, he had never heard it. He was still and let his Apprentice skillfully work him. Paul Rogers was always amazed at how quickly he had fallen for his Apprentice. He usually adhered to the tasks and his duties. Ridley Johnson was sort of a sneak attack on life. It was one he was not concerned about.
At this moment, as his Apprentice sucked his dick, he made it feel so terrific. He cared for this young man. Perhaps more than he had cared for anyone before. A Master falling for their Apprentice was a story as old as time. It was much different from knowing this and being caught up in it. He did not care where this storm took him as long as he had Ridley Johnson beside him. Ridley was such an advanced student wherever it landed them, but he had yet to learn all the meaning of the roll of the runic dice when they first met. There was more to it than he was to ascend in his place. More than it had indicated how special and consequential he would become. What it meant for Paul was something he never thought he would experience.
This was not just on his end. It was on Ridley Johnson’s side as well. Paul had allowed this young man to get closer to him than anyone. He knew the extraordinary forces he could summon and hurl if required. Could shield better than most, this Apprentice had shattered them. It was as if they were not even there. He was making him feel so good now.
Ridley had climbed upon him as was straddling him. He had put some lubricant on his cock and was now easing down onto it. Paul moaned again as Ridley went all the way down on it as far as he could go. The Apprentice looked at him with hunger as he slid up and down on him. My at the things he can do, his Master thought. He was terrific in every way and sense of the word.
The two of them, a Master and his Apprentice, made love and were unapologetic about it. He had ridden Paul until he reached that moment that felt all too good. The Master then got Ridley onto his back and returned the favor orally. It had taken some time, but his flesh and neurological system eventually yielded to the Master. They had taken a shower together, which meant Ridley had done two back-to-back. Now they lay in the bed talking.
Paul said, “Ridley, Char Le Maine told me about your intervention to prevent someone from getting stabbed. I could never have hoped for a better student. You get it in totality. You understand what my seat means to this area and those who live here.”
Ridley, beside him and lightly stroking his chest, said, “I would not be much of a person if I were that. He remained idly by and did nothing. When it was so easy for me to prevent.”
His Master lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He eventually asked, “Have you got a passport?”
Ridley answered, “Yes, Master, I do. Why do you ask?”
Paul was silent momentarily, “God save the Queen, we have to go to jolly old England.”
Ridley continued to rub the Master’s chest, “England? What do we have to do there, Master?”
Paul looked in his direction, “Council meeting. All the Master mages and their Apprentices will be there. Possibly a great many things you have only read about. Also, you should know I talked to Kelly, my literary agent, today. They have accepted the book we worked so hard on since you have been here.”
Ridley asked him, “So, what do we do now?”
His Master said, “We go to the council meeting, return, and begin working on the next. You will see some amazing things there, my Apprentice. It is no longer about translating ancient texts.”
Outside in the night, the brisk winter air blew. Deer still ran, and streams still flowed. It's time to venture to The United Kingdom.
