Page 58 of Thick

It was the dawn of a new generation, no doubt.

The thought of the men having families, commitments, and loyalty outside the club was oddly rewarding. Knowing the men as well as I did, I realized in some ways, the commitment of a relationship and of a family would take each of them back to the 1960s.

Kids gathering at Cholo’s house playing baseball and running along the beach. I could see our resident surfer, Pee Bee, teaching them to surf.

“Which Oceanside exit?” she asked.

I looked at her, unaware that we’d made the entire trip. It seemed like only minutes had passed. “54-A”

She changed lanes. “Almost missed it. Where from here?’

“Follow it to Mission, and then hang a left.”

I gazed out the window as she drove through town. It seemed I was seeing everything for the first time. During my recent trip to prison, something had changed, that much was clear. I didn’t know exactly what it was, or why. The not knowing troubled me.

Maybe with MS-13 being gone from our city, and Satan’s Savages now locked away for a lifetime, I realized our club could simply exist doing what we did best.

Living each day as if it was our last.

I pointed to the left. “Turn here. It’s right here on the left. Cream colored building.”

Her eyes went wide. “I’m guessing they know you’re coming.”

“I called ahead, yeah.”

Amidst eighteen Harleys, seventeen men, and half a dozen Ol’ Ladies, she rolled to a stop. “Do they know I’m coming?”

“They do now.” I opened my door. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Bobbi

I opened the door and stepped out of the car. The building’s open garage door gave full view to the sea of motorcycles that were neatly parked inside.

I knew why, too. Crip made them park inside so no one would know who was there, and who wasn’t. If you wanted to know, you needed to pull in and see for yourself. If you did, you’d have to face the wrath of him and his sidekick, Bones.

The dozen or so men that were gathered in the building didn’t capture my complete attention. It was the five men that stood in the afternoon sun, leaning against the outside of the building. Wearing jeans, boots, and their kuttes, they resembled one another in dress, but were different in their appearance and age.

I told myself not to stare, but it was more difficult than one might think. I didn’t have to be told their names, I felt like we were already acquainted. I’d been through hell and back with those five men.

We were twenty feet from them, but Tate’s descriptions of the men were spot on. In the center, with salt and pepper hair, and a few day’s growth of beard, stood Crip, the president.

To the right of Crip, the 6’-8” Sergeant-at-Arms and resident teddy bear, Bones, stood with a smirk on his face.

Beside Bones, Nut Bucket paced back and forth, nervously smoking a cigarette like it was his last. His eyes met mine for an instant, and then he looked away.

To Crip’s left, the former boxer of Hispanic-Irish heritage, Chico, reached for his ball cap. He gave a slight nod and tugged against the bill. Upon seeing it, I almost cried. He did it in the book when he was nervous or felt uncomfortable. I wondered if the scene where he was tortured by the Mexican gang was real, or made up.

Beside Chico, the last of the six men who graced the pages of TD’s books stood. He was a loner of sorts, and had a daughter who he raised on his own. I enjoyed Smiley’s dry sense of humor, and seeing his close friendship with Nut Bucket. I wondered if anyone really vaped as much as he did in the books. It seemed he always had that thing in his hand. Blowing vapor in Crip’s face just to get a reaction.

As Tate walked to my side, Chico took a step in our direction. Seeing his slight limp caused a lump to rise in my throat. I imagined his captors smashing his feet with a hammer.

Towering over the other men, the Sergeant-at-Arms took a few steps in our direction.

Please, don’t say it. Tell me at least that part was a lie. If I hear you say ‘what’s shakin’, motherfucker’, I just might break down.

He opened his arms and grinned at Tate. “What’s shakin’ motherfucker?”