Molding Stone

First Steps

Happy was over every night for the next three weeks before he got called away. He was two shots in at the bar with Kozik when his phone rang. I'd seen this song and dance before, knew what was coming as I quickly printed their checks and had them laying on the bar as Happy ended the call. Kozik was hurrying to chug the last of his beer and grabbing his sweatshirt off the back of the chair, getting ready to head out.

"Headed out. See ya in a couple days." Happy said gruffly before throwing back his last shot and standing up to pull out his wallet. I nodded and picked up the glass to deposit in the bin for Eddy to wash.

"Kick ass. See ya when you get back." Happy looked surprised by the statement before a smile took over his face for a split second and then the two were out the door, the cash left laying on the bar the only indicator they had even been there. I could just make out the roar of their bikes over the jukebox and sighed when the bikes were no longer audible. I called out last call and set to work pouring the last round for the night. Closing down was strange, knowing that I was going to be truly alone for the first time in over two months.

Since the shooting there had been someone nearby whether in the apartment or outside every night and not having Iris or Happy around brought about the fear that had been there the first night after Iris went back to Seattle. As I pulled out the cash from the drawer I also grabbed Greta out from underneath the bar. Uncle Al had bought her as a means to keep things under control here in the bar, but I had plans to use her to scare away my own fears.

It felt silly to be afraid, before the robbery I had been living on my own in this apartment for the last three years without incident and the break in had obviously been a fluke. It could have just as easily been the neighbors that the junkie could have hit instead of me, but on the off chance that something like that ever happened again I wasn't going to be caught by surprise. I refused to be a victim, I never liked the feeling of weakness and I wasn't going to let it take over my life now.

I slept that night and the next three with Greta stashed between the mattress and the headboard. My sleep was restless and I was on edge, but each night was a little easier when nothing happened and I woke perfectly fine the next morning.

Diana came by on the second day Happy was gone and put me through hell with all her exercises. She was impressed with how far I had come since she'd started coming to the house. She promised that I wouldn't need the crutches for much longer. The damaged muscles in my leg were getting their strength back and my leg would be able to hold more and more of my weight. The news was music to my ears, I had missed complete independence more than I could express.

By the fifth day I was starting to wonder what Happy's definition of 'a couple days' was, because mine obviously didn't match his. I felt like a fool looking forward to Happy coming back to town, it felt like another hit to my independence, but I couldn't help that it was nice to have someone else around. The apartment had been starkly silent since Uncle Al's passing and it had never been more apparent than after the last month when there had been so much noise with someone always being here. Even Ace couldn't make up for the lack of human noise.

I hadn't had the slightest trouble with patrons at the bar since Happy and Tig had started coming around regularly, which was a relief since I was now at a clear disadvantage should a fight break out and I'd always hated calling the police. They were usually more hassle then help as they ruined business for the night and required reports and taking a look at the surveillance footage before leaving. A process that I was saved when I could just clank the heads of the two drunks together and send them in separate directions. It would definitely be a while longer before I could do that again without risking getting hurt myself.

With the bikers hanging around, the drunks knew to take it out to the parking lot if they didn't want their asses kicked inside by an overeager biker. It had only happened once while Tig and Happy had been at the bar. Two of the usual drunks got into an argument over a pool game and one threw a punch. The brawl was over before I could get out from behind the bar. Tig had jumped into the fray, knocking the one drunk over the back of the head with his pool stick and knocking the other on his ass with a quick right hook. Both had been sent out and didn't come back for over a week after that and I hadn't had a problem since.