Otis (23 page)

OTIS

“It could be a lot of things, brother. Don’t jump to conclusions. You know what I say about the word
assume
don’t you? Makes an ass of you and me,” Axton said as he turned toward the kitchen.

“When’s she going to be here?” I huffed as I glanced at my watch.

“Her and Toad’s Ol’ Lady are on their way back now. There probably at that little stretch of highway between Wichita and here where there’s no service. She’ll be here in a bit. Want one of her beers?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator.

“Sure,” I sighed as I sat down.

“Good news about Gunner though,” Axton said as he handed me a bottle of
Red’s Apple Ale
.

I gazed at the bottle and shook my head, “Yeah. Hard to believe he’s going to spend thirteen months in the joint. Good for the club though.”

“What’s hard to believe is that it happened so fast,” Axton said as he sat down across from me.

I took a drink of the beer, winced from the taste, and stared down at the bottle. As I looked up, I began to explain what Gunner had told me.

“He said he refused to testify, and they had a special hearing with a magistrate. In the hearing he said he’d misplaced a few crucial reports. He didn’t tell
them
they were crucial, but he said they would implicate us in a few things. Anyway, after the missing reports and his statement of no wrong doings on our part while under oath, they asked him to reconsider and gave him a few days to change his story. He went back in for the second hearing,” I paused and took another drink of the sweet ale.

“And after he said the same thing, they threatened him with obstruction of justice and tampering with evidence. He waived his right to a jury trial, plead guilty, and they sentenced him the next day at what he called a bench trial as an example to other ATF agents. He said he’s got to surrender to US Marshals in about 30 days.”

“And you say he showed you all of this on the computer?” Axton shrugged.

I nodded my head, “On the US Attorney’s official website. They list all crimes and sentencing there as a deterrent. Yeah, it’s right there. Lost his job, pension, everything…”

“I guess everybody has a job to do, just wish his job didn’t include fucking with us,” Axton said as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth.

I felt nervous and sick. It had been two days since we had spoken and four days since I’d seen her. No matter what was behind this, nothing good could come of it. No differently than any other Sinner, I refused to talk to anyone about my problems other than Axton. Admitting to the other men that I had a problem or that I was in pain, especially as a result of a woman, would make me appear weak and incapable.

I drank the remaining beer and pushed the bottle between my thighs. Going to Axton’s house wasn’t something I normally did, and for whatever reason, I had always perceived his home as being off limits. To him, it was a sacred place, and I realized that about him. Our discussions generally went on in the shop or office at the clubhouse, or some other remote location. Sitting in his chair and talking to him was another reminder of the fact that my life was in shambles. I felt like I was at a funeral of an uncle I didn’t know, and in a house I was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with.

“Yeah,” I sighed.as I stood.

“Where you want this?” I asked as I held the bottle at arms; length.

“Garage,” he said as he pointed to the garage door.

As I opened the door to the garage, the unmistakable sound of a car in the driveway caught my attention. I tossed the bottle in the trash, walked to the kitchen, and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Eager to take my search to the next step, and hoping for a miracle, I walked into the living room and sat down.

“Got another beer,” I said as I raised the bottle.

Axton shook his head, “Take as many as you want, brother.”

Avery walked in through the front door, and although she could clearly see my bike in the driveway, did little to disguise her shock of seeing me in the living room. It was obvious to me either Axton had said something to her about my concerns – which I seriously doubted – or she knew something about Sam’ disappearance.

As I anxiously waited for her to sit down, Axton stood and spoke.

“Otis has some concerns about Sam. Want to come in and talk?” he asked.

“Sure, Uhhm. Let me get a beer,” she responded.

After getting a beer from the fridge, she came in the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor beside Axton’s chair. After taking a few sips from my beer as I studied her, I proceeded with caution.

“When was the last time you talked to Sam?” I asked.

“Been a few days, I suppose,” she shrugged.

“Do you remember the exact day?” I asked.

She took a drink of beer, gazing at me over the top of the bottle as she did so. After lowering the bottle to her lap, she inhaled, exhaled, and took another drink.

“Day before yesterday,” she sighed.

“Really? What time of day was it?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. Evening time. We all had a drink at the bar, her and Syd and me.”

“Evening, huh? You sure it was the day before yesterday?” I asked as I tried to piece together a timeline.

It would have been the day after I talked to Sam last, and if Avery’s recollection was correct, the fact Sam talked to her after talking to me - and had not talked to me since - bothered me.

She stared blankly beyond me for a moment, shifted her focus to me, and responded.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she sighed.

“What was going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “We were just having a drink.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling as if I was Jack’s attorney attempting to pry information from the ATF agent in court. After taking half of the bottle of beer in one gulp, I stood and began pacing the room.

“Did she call you and want to get together?” I asked.

“Yeah, she did,” she responded.

I turned around, frustrated by the lack of information Avery was providing. As I stood and glared at her, I realized I hadn’t really explained the nature of my question asking session. After draining the remaining beer from the bottle, I sighed and continued.

“Look, Sam’s missing. Nobody knows her more than I do,
nobody
, and this isn’t like her at all. You were the last one to talk to her, and anything you can say that’ll help me, I’d appreciate. What’d you guys talk about?” I asked.

She uncrossed her legs and stood. Still holding the bottle in her hand, she crossed her arms and studied me.

“Look, she talked about a lot of things. I can’t really say,” she said flatly. 

“What do you mean you
can’t say
? She’s missing, Avery.
Missing
. I need to find her. Help me out,” I said through my teeth.

“Look,” she said as she turned toward Axton.

She shifted her eyes to meet mine and sighed, “If anyone knows and respects it, it should be you two. She asked me not to say, and I’m not saying.”

Axton stood from his seat and turned to face her, placing his arm on her shoulder as he did.

“Anything you can say might help, anything at all,” he said.

As she began to speak, her voice filled with emotion and began to falter, “And I
can’t
say anything. It’s no different…no different than either of you not…uhhm…not discussing club business with…you know…just anyone. You’re sworn to…uhhm…secrecy. Well, respect the fact…that I am too.”

“Avery,” I began to beg.

She waved her arms in front of her chest, sloshing beer onto the carpet as she did so, “
No!
Answer this, Otis. Did you tell anyone about me shooting those guys that night we got robbed in Mexican town?”

I shook my head, clearly seeing where she was headed, “Nope.”

“Alright then. And you didn’t because you’re sworn to secrecy. I told her I wouldn’t…”

And she lost her composure and began to cry. As the lifted her hand to her face and began to wipe the tears, she turned away. Axton reached for her shoulder just as she stomped her foot.

“God fucking damn you, Otis,” she shouted as her foot hit the floor.

“God fuckin damn you,” she repeated as he turned around.

I clasped my palms together as if praying, “What? Did
I
do something? Come on, Avery.”

She caught her breath, inhaled, and after a few seconds, exhaled loudly. As she nodded her head, my heart sank and the pit of my stomach felt like a stone had been dropped into it.

“I can’t tell you where she is,” she said as she exhaled again.

“Because I don’t know. And I uhhm…I can’t tell you what she said,” she paused and handed Axton her bottle of beer.

As she rubbed her hands against the thighs of her jeans, she continued, “Because I said I wouldn’t.”

“But if you know her like you say you do, maybe you’ll find her. If you were her,” she paused and inhaled sharply.

“And you had a decision to make that no woman ever wants to have to fucking make,” she began to cry again, and covered her face as she did.

She removed her hands from her face and talked through the tears and sobbing, “And that decision, Otis, that fucking decision…”

“It’s got to do…it’s got to do with both of you. And she’s…she’s scared, Otis. She’s scared you’ll uhhm…scared you’ll leave her if you find out,” she blubbered.

My mind raced in a million different directions. Confused and sick and tired of the games, lack of information, and angry with the fact Avery wouldn’t simply tell me what I needed to know, I searched my, mind for answers while she attempted to catch her breath.

“Because you already…” she cried.

“Left her once for it…”

And I knew.

“Motherfucker!” I shouted as I turned and stomped toward the door.

“
Otis
,” Axton sighed loudly from behind me.

As I rode through the yard, over the curb, and into the street, I saw Axton hop on his bike. It didn’t matter, he had no idea where I was going, and there was no way he could ever catch me to find out.

OTIS

I pulled my bike to the edge of the road and stopped, knowing it would never make it down the hill and to where I needed to go. The rest of the trip would be on foot. Although it was out of my view, I felt certain I was where I needed to be.

I stepped over the seat of the bike, reached in my pocket, and grabbed my keys. As I stuck the key into the ignition and locked the bike, the brass keychain Ripp had given me in Austin hung from the key ring.

His favorite saying inscribed on the brass disc, the words were something I had always felt, but hadn’t composed into the exact phrase he’d so carefully stamped into to the charm. I clenched it between my thumb and forefingers and rubbed my thumb against the center. After a quick prayer, I looked at the words, and hoped Ripp’s phrase was applicable today of all days.

I Got This.

Brother Ripp, I hope you’re right.

I opened my saddle bag, pulled the bag from the inside, and placed the items in the two side pockets of my cut. After inhaling a nervous breath, I sighed, turned toward the hill, and began jogging down the path I had spent so many weekend nights walking along as a teen.

When I reached the corner of the path that turned and led down to the river, I saw her car parked along the edge narrow dirt drive. Seeing it provided me hope and filled me with worry at the same time. I glanced toward the tree, and could see her slumped at the base.

I inhaled a choppy breath, swallowed heavily, and exhaled. As I jumped over the edge and began running down the hill, three words continued to rattle around in my head.

I. Got. This.

SAM

I sat at the base of the tree with the butcher knife in my hand, praying for the strength to make the right decision. As much as I realized suicide wasn’t the most practical decision or the best for everyone with a similar circumstance, I felt it was
my
most logical choice. After having spent several hours attempting to develop the courage to proceed, I sat exhausted, clenching the knife.

As time passed I became weary. Lacking sleep for several days, I knew if I could stay awake a little longer I may not develop the courage, but I would be able to proceed from lack of will to continue to fight myself.

As I drifted off into an almost dream like state, I heard a motorcycle in the distance. Thoughts of Otis filled my mind. The sound seemed to grow closer and closer. Certain I was losing what little logic I had left, I smiled and glanced up toward the top of the hill.

The sound stopped.

Disappointed, I gazed at the top of the hill as I clutched the knife. After a period of time I was incapable of measuring, a figure appeared at the top of the hill. I stared, feeling as if it truly was a dream, and the figure was an angel – the answer to my problems hanging on her lips – sure to come as soon as she reached the bottom of the hill.

I blinked.

The figure began to come down the hill. As it grew closer, I realized it was either Otis, or I was losing my mind. As the distance narrowed, I
knew
it was either Otis or I had gone completely batty. Using what little strength I had left, I reached up and tossed the knife over my shoulder and into the tall weeds behind me.

“Sam,” his voice was soft and soothing.

I blinked my eyes and smiled.

“Sam, are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded my head and tried to stand. As I stood, my weak legs shook, almost causing me to fall. I realized as he reached out to support me I had been sitting for hours and my legs had fallen asleep.

“Did you take something, Sam? Are you on anything?” he asked.

I shook my head, “Legs fell asleep.”

“What’s going on, Sam? Is there something you need to tell me?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say. I loved him more than anything, and losing him was more than I could bear to imagine.

“Sam. I love you. Whatever it is, no matter
what
it is, you and I will be fine. You need to
know
that. I mean it. No matter what,” he assured me as he held my shoulders in his hands.

“But,” I sighed.

I wanted to tell him. I desperately wanted to, but I couldn’t muster the courage. After studying him for a few moments, I pulled away, bent down, and picked up my purse. Clutching it tightly and holding it to my chest, I glanced up and I nodded my head.

“Just say it, Sam. Whatever it is that’s got you worried,” he breathed.

“I’m pregnant,” the words escaped my lips before I had a chance to stop them.

Fearful, embarrassed, and waiting for the wrath of God to come down upon me, I clutched my purse and waited.

“You sure?” he asked.

I held my purse to my chest and nodded my head.

“Good,” he said, “That’s what I was hoping.”

I glanced up, and as hard as I tried, couldn’t fight back the tears.

“You’re not…mad?” I sobbed.

He shook his head as he reached into the side pockets of his cut, “Mad? No Sam, I’m not mad. I love you.”

I sighed and continued to clutch my purse.

As he dug in his pockets, he continued, “I’m not proud of it, but as a Sinner, I’ve played a part – a first-hand part – in seeing many lives leave this earth. Death has become a part of who I am, Sam. To think I could share something as special as bringing a life into this earth, and doing it with you?”

He pulled two pieces of cloth from his cut. As he straightened the fabric and let it hang from his fingers, it was clear what they were. Standing in front of me, holding two rompers – one blue and one pink – he began to softly cry.

“I didn’t know what color to get, so I got one of each,” he shrugged.

I released my grasp from my purse, reached inside, and pulled the pregnancy test from inside. As I held it up for him to see, he grinned.

“This just says I’m pregnant, it doesn’t give a sex,” I grinned as I began to cry again.

“Either way, as long as you two are both healthy, I’ll be happy as fuck,” he said as he turned his head and wiped his tears on his shoulder.

“How’d you know?” I blubbered.

“I didn’t. I just hoped,” he responded.

“So you want this?” I asked, wanting as much confirmation as possible.

“More than anything,” he nodded.

“How’d you know where I was?”

“Really Sam? You lost your virginity at this tree. Damned thing’s been here as the biggest tree in the state for over a hundred years. We used to spend a lot of time here. This was our sacred tree.
Meet me at the big tree
. How many times did you hear that?” he asked.

“Not near enough,” I sobbed as I put the pregnancy test back into my purse.

He dropped the rompers beside where he stood and opened his arms. And, as the happiest woman in the world, I dropped my purse, embraced him in a hug, and held him in my arms. As we stood under our sacred tree and held each other, my heart filled with gratitude for Otis and for everything we shared as a couple.

I guess the Sinners are right.

The devil looks after his own.