Chapter Eight: Spin it counter-clockwise

Glen arrived at Herb’s Place, a Hawaiian themed bar with the extreme use of tiki, the celling and also the floor had the same tiki tile. Four large screen TV’s were in the bar, all four seemed to have different sports channels on, sans one showing the local news from channel 23. It was near the Selfridge Air National Guard Base. The tables were wood covered with glass with photos of Hawaii and other exotic locations. Surely, the residents of Michigan would rather be there than here, but with reality, the middle-class peoples of Southeastern Michigan just couldn’t drop everything to float to Hawaii and stay there until it warms back up in Michigan, minus a criminal such as Rudy. He wasn’t connected to a job here minus protecting his cousin from his higher reach into gambling, but was taking off anyway, as Glen would want him to.

            Glen was looking around for number four, whomever he may be. Amel told him he would be an Albanian who enjoys drinking. He began to look around in the small bar, seeing if he was sitting up at the bar or perhaps nearby the military men sitting by the back.

“Hey, number five!” said a slurry Albanian accent from Glen’s right.

The two looked over to see a buzz cut skinny male sitting at starting end of the bar.

“Number four.” Glen sarcastically said.

He and Rudy approached him and took stools by his side, that’s when he noticed that there was three empty Budweiser bottles in front of him. His breath reeked of alcohol.

“I tell you what. I hear you’re good at betting in hockey. I don’t know shit about hockey, but I deal with the basketball. I took bets against those Army guys over there.” He pointed to them.

Glen and Rudy looked over to see two older males from the Army, with gray in their hair and looking straight at them, Glen wondered if they were high-ranking soldiers or perhaps officers.

“But deal with them in Hockey, cause I don’t know shet.” Saying the final word incorrectly, this made Rudy and Glen who was getting off his stool chuckle at that.

“You need help with this?” Rudy asked.

“No, I got it.” Glen said, “I’ll be nice about it.”

A Filipino waitress approached Rudy, she wore a Hawaiian shirt, only tied up to see her belly, she asked Rudy, “Would you like something, sir?”

Rudy smiled, “Hell yes, you.”

She blushed at that and smiled with nice teeth.

            Glen approached the Army men who seemed to be awaiting for him, but was called by the old man bartender, “May I help you, sir?”

Glen stopped to acknowledge him, he had a noticeable gut and also wore a Hawaiian shirt, chances were good that it was Herb himself.

“Well, you got fruity alcoholic drinks? I’m in a good mood.”

“White Freezie, Malibu and Pineapple, Sex On A Beach,” he said with a wide smile on his face, “and our special: Blue Hawaiian.”

“Is the Blue Hawaiian blended?” Glen asked.

“Oh, yes it is.” He said.

Glen kind of liked this bartender, he was surely pleasant and brought a good-natured attitude inside this nice and warm Hawaiian bar while just outside, one would see a grim Michigan winter, then he said, “I’ll take one.”

“You got it.”

He went on making the drink while Glen walked to the military men, they had some grey in their typical military-fade hairstyle. The ranks had stripes so Glen knew at least these two were not officers, but obviously, it appeared that these two were looking to get a petition from Uncle Sam.

One of the men said in a southern drawl, “You the guy who bets in Hockey?”

“Yes, I guess I’m the guy.”

“Two hundred for each game, how ‘bout it?”

“How about four hundred a game?”

The two looked at each other with wide smiles, then the man who spoke said, “You must think since I’m from the south that I wouldn’t know shit about hockey?”

Glen tilted his head a bit and asked with reasoning, “did I say that?”

The other man with a regular accent said, “We’ll do four hundred a game.”

“Okay,” Glen started, “how are we doing this?”

“LA vs. Colorado?” the southern man asked.

“Who do you think will win?”

 “LA. I like Colorado but they were not as good as they were.”

“I agree with LA.”

“What’s the line?”

“I’d say under 2½.”

The two smiled on that, the southern man said, “I’ll take it. I’ll go over.”

“What other game you had in mind?”  Glen asked.

“How ‘bout you pick?” Glen said.

He would of wanted to call Jimbo to ask about any info on any particulars he would know about. Not only Jimbo was into the details of Fantasy Sports, he kept an eye on all leagues standings and all details. Glen didn’t pay too much attention on standings and paid Jim to keep an eye on them and send a text message each day or two on any changes. He wanted to stop himself and call Jim, but he decided to take his own knowledge and give it a try.

“How about our hometown heroes in Hockeytown vs. D.C.?”

“Well, we know we will kill DC, so, what’s your line?”

“I’ll go three goals over, you guys get two goals or under, you also win if DC wins.”

“Ho ho,” the other man said, “you pretty confident, are ya?”

“Yeah,” the southern man said, “just to be sure, let me see that you have eight hundred bucks.”

Glen stepped closer and pulled out ten Benjamin’s, then asked, “Let’s see that you have eight hundred yourself?”

The other man lifted up his plate of Fish N Chips to see that about two thousand dollars were right there.

“Okay, may we shake on this bet?” Glen said while holding his hand out.

The southern man smiled and offered his hand and the two shook hands, but the southern man squeezed Glen’s hand, he felt the pain and said, “Okay dude…ow… I’m on your side.”

The southern man shook his head, “You’re gonna lose, like your drunken friend there.”

He let go of Glen’s hand.

Glen backed away with a sarcastic smile on his face. He wanted to say something but due to them being in the military and serving the country. Something Glen is not doing and wasn’t really interested in the military. However, that competitiveness had got in his head.

            Glen approached the bar to see the nice man smiling with his Blue Hawaiian ready and being held by him. The bar man placed the drink on the bar and Glen took it and asked before taking a drink.

“That’ll be Twenty-Five dollars.” He said with the smile intact.

Glen took a drink while chuckling a little while seeing over his head on a neon board stating that the Blue Hawaiian was $5.95.

“It says it’s about six bucks on the board.”

“It also includes my fee for gambling here.” He said with the smile on his face still.

This sure wasn’t the first time for the surprise that the house had, he nodded and said, “Fair enough.”

And he paid with a twenty and a five.

 

            Todd had made a left turn onto McSaveloy Woods, a subdivision with homes ranging $120,000-$220,000. It was located in the city of Sterling Heights on Dequindre Road, where on the west side of the road will be considered Troy.  The houses were two-story homes that usually held 3-5 rooms and most times 2 bathrooms. The community was built in the late 90s, so the modern chic at the time of the homes where it’s sales pitch. Todd still lived with his mom and her boyfriend on Davie Street, which really was a street with six houses and had a dead end barely before it started. 

            His Saturn Vue with a busted back window, and also driver’s side window rolled slowly along Davie Street to the end in where he took a left turn into the double-wide driveway. Typically, he would blast the hip-hop music while rolling along, attempting to appear smooth while annoying the residents of McSaveloy. He put the car on park and held his head while turning on the light. He looked into the rear view mirror and saw that there was a bruise above his left eye and also a fat lip. He thought he could take them on and get the price he demanded. But after he caught a few punches and was pushed down, he quickly thought escape and that he did, only having rocks thrown at the vehicle while driving off quickly onto Nine Mile with a high rate of speed. He turned the engine off and exited the car for a good second view of what these assholes did to his car, or in his favorite insult, faggots.

            He entered the house to see that pretty much all lights were off. This was a good thing since he didn’t want his mother to see him this way, he was thinking of ways on how to hide everything from her, to his face and even his Saturn Vue. All scenarios ran thru his head while he slowly closed the door, took his shoes off and took a right into the kitchen, which was a large hall with a silver fridge and freeze with vertical doors and an ice and water outlet, a GE oven made in the early 2000s with its electric display. The cabinets were a shade of white and he reached into the junk drawer while thinking of scenarios.

“Todd, is that you?” said his mother from behind.

Todd turned around to see her flip the light switch, next to look in horror on what happened to her older son.

“Oh my god!? What happened!?” she yelled.

Todd saw her approach, she wore a white robe, lifting her arms up for a bear hug for sympathy in which Todd did not want, “No, mom, please.”

Despite his plea, she connected and attempted to place Todd’s head under her chin and squeezed him, “Todd, what happened?” she asked dramatically.

“Mom, nothing happened, please, let go of me.” Todd said while not offering her a reach around.

She moved her had to look at his face, a fat lip and a bruise over his face, “What happened?” she asked with tears going down her eyes.

Before he could explain, Rob approached, wearing a light brown silk robe that offered a small layer compared to his wife’s, and saw the damage done to his step-son, “Jeez, Todd, what happened?”

“They were not paying us the right amount. I tried to get it back, but these faggots…”

“Todd?” his mom sternly said, “try a different word.”

“…idiots cheated when they fight. They even took the money too.”

Colleen’s jaw dropped and she looked at Rob with a shake of her head, “These shitbags from Warren are going to pay.”

Rob looked away and shook his head.

She looked back to Todd and with a voice of near-silent sympathy, “Now Todd, go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. I’m gonna make those people who did this to you pay.”

“I want ‘em dead.” Todd sternly said.

“Just let me handle this.”

“T-they destroyed the Vue, I’ll kill them faggots.” Todd uttered while walking the other way out of the kitchen.

She looked over to see Todd walk into the dark living room with nice beige carpeting and elegant sofas, with disgust of his often use of homophobic slurs. She then turned to Rob who walked the other way to offer Todd help, but he refused.

He walked back into the kitchen to see his wife looking away and angry.

“These people will pay. That was a lot of money taken away from me.”

“And for what?” Rod asked sternly.

She looked over with wide eyes.

“Colleen,” with his arms out, “this is going way too far. We don’t need to be selling drugs.”

“I want to have a good retirement, something that uncle Sam can’t touch.” She said, turning herself to him.

“But do you know what kind of risk we are putting ourselves into,” then pointing away, “even Todd?”
“Bad things happen, I’ll get them back.”

He did a sarcastic smile, “Really? How do you think you are going to do that.”

“Remember those people in Macomb Township?”

“Yes, you called two crooked cops. You know, I’m really not comfortable about all of this.”

The she approached him with wide eyes and sternly stated, “Then I’ll divorce you. I have a better job, I have higher pay, and I’ll get an attorney that will rip you apart. Half of your yearly salary will be given to me, then I probably won’t have to sell drugs. And don’t you think I forgot about that time you picked up that skank on Craigslist.”

Rob gave up and shook his head.

“Now do yourself a favor and help Todd out, this isn’t a drug house, Rob.” She said.

 

            The clock read 10:45pm and in Harrison Township, a young man stood victorious while his new friend fell down in defeat. The two military men (taller one named Diamond, shorter one named Purham) approached with smiles with cash being handed over to whom they lost too.

Diamond asked, “Did you play hockey yourself?”

Glen smiled while kindly taking his winnings, “Used too, the balmy days of East Detroit.”

“No pro, no minor league?”
Glen shook his head, “I kinda wished I still played it. Ice Hockey can be a painful investment to get into.”

Rudy also added his two cents, “I thought about getting into Hockey myself.”

Glen looked over, “Really?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I know I never told you, I just wanted to be a goon. Beat the shit out of people and paid for it, or otherwise, you get the shit beaten out of you and still get paid. I wouldn’t mind a few million dollars a year to go around skating with a hockey stick and causing shit.”

“You could.” Glen said.

“I’m thirty-four, no NHL team will get me, even any junior leagues. From my understanding, they don’t get paid good.”

“I knew a guy who did play in the NHL, only a few games, he continued on in some obscure minor league. What the guy made could only pay his bills and barely save, always floating from town to town, victim of minor leagues folding. He was also in the IHL before it went down the crapper.”

Purham smiled, “I remember that, I was in Salt Lake City when they had a team there.”

“Well, it isn’t a total loss for us,” Diamond said, he then pointed at number four, “he bet us 500 for two basketball games, he lost them both. You better go kick his ass.”

“How about you guys do it?” Glen asked.

While so, the Filipino waitress walked close to Rudy and the two looked at each other lovingly.

“Well, until next time.” Glen said, he turned to Rudy and tapped his shoulder, “I’m all set.”

He looked over, “Uh… I’m staying.”

“You’re staying? Do you have a ride planned?”

“Sara here is going to take me home.”

“To the bar?”

Sara intervened, “Nah, I’m taking him to my house.”

Rudy peered closer to Glen with silence, “I need a good foreign fuck before I go.”

His breath smelled of alcohol, it was obvious that he had one too many.

“Please don’t call me at 3am saying you need a ride.”  Glen added.

“It’s gonna be alright, I’m leaving tomorrow y’know, you all better see me before I go to South Carolina.”

“I will, right after I have dinner with Jim’s family.”

He peered closer again, this is a typical drunken Rudy for him to do this, however, it always made Glen a little comfortable.

“Man, fuck Jim and his family. I know you lost your girl and all, but stop trying to help them out. Fuck man.”

Sara chimed in with confusion in her face and asked Glen, “What, your girl dumped you and you try to be friends with her family?”

“Nah,” Rudy said to her, “his girl died, really cool chick, but she has a couple of retards in her family…”

“Don’t call them retards, Rudy.” Glen interrupted.

He turned to him and while so, some commotion between Purham and number four had erupted to all ears in the bar, however, Glen continued with Rudy with a little anger growing in him, “Now, Todd, that’s an overgrown idiotic retard if I ever saw one, but easy on Jim and Jasmine.”

However, at the other end, “That fuckin’ referee’s a fuckin Nazi, a blind fucking pig Nazi.” Said number four with his heavy accent.

“Bullshit,” Purham said ruthlessly, “you lost that game fair and square.”

“Fffffuck you, you American asshole.” He countered.

“This is the greatest country in the world,” Purham said, “if you don’t like it, get the hell out.”

This confutation had caught the eyes of the ten bar patrons and three bar staffers, including a cook coming out of the kitchen. Number four yelled while Purham carried a cool but intimidating voice, the US Army is likely where he learned that from.

Diamond walked by his friend, “hey bat, let it go. You don’t want another Article 15.”

The kind bartender had walked forward, he was calm, and chances were good he has seen all kinds of fights going on in bars.

Purham looked back with rage, “I don’t like these fucking foreign dickheads coming in MY country and insulting it.”

“Fuck you, you proud of your country, why you got fuckin’ people on the Maury Show getting pregnant at 17 and fuckin… they don’t know who the father is.”

Rudy chuckled at that to Glen and said, “He’s got a point. That shit’s been on since we were in high school.”

Purham approached him, “Go fuck yourself.”

Diamond walked in between, “Okay guys, were not doing anything stupid today. We’re going.”

Sara to Rudy, “That little Army guy always starts crap with people who insult the country, don’t say that out loud.”

Glen continued to eavesdrop on the ending skirmish as Diamond kept Purham away. The kind bartender said to Diamond, “This isn’t the first time Sergeant Purham.”

Purham turned around, “That’s First Sergeant Purham.” He said with anger.

“Easy buddy.” Diamond said while leading him to the door.

 

            At the Davenport, Tommy looked on with a large smile on his face and said, “Prepare to pay up, motherfucker.”

Beantown lead Charlotte 93-83, in which the two knew Boston would win, but Tommy had the under 20½ and he was in the right with ten seconds left.

He was boisterous with the clock ticking down, “Ten…Nine…Eight…Seven…Six…Five…Four…Three…Two…One…”

When the clock hit zero, he raised his arms up.

“I won,” he said, next to turn over to say, “Pay up mother---“

Juby was rushing out of the bar.

“Hey, fuckhead!” Tommy yelled, he began to give chase and all patrons of the bar began to notice.

            Tommy exited the bar to take a quick look around. He didn’t see anyone but the fast moving traffic on Gratiot Avenue with the smoking coming out of the exhausts of all cars showing on a bitter cold day. Tommy then ran to the parking lot to see Juby in his car exiting out of a spot and away from him.

“Yo, pay up, you cracker piece of shit!” Tommy screamed while he headed to the car.

Juby pressed forward on the gas and made a turn north into the back alley.

Tommy continued, “Pay me my money, you fuckin’ honkey!”

He made his turn, narrowly missing a homeless man who was already near the fences, and Tommy followed while trying to catch up.

“Get back here!” Tommy screamed.

Juby slammed on the gas and furthered the gap between him and Tommy, he made a harsh left turn onto Martin Road.

Tommy noticed the license plate saying, ‘onecop4u.’