May 30
Even though I now worked in the sales office, I almost always bought my lunch from the lunch truck. It made a nice opportunity to see the guys in the plant every day and exchange good-natured barbs.
“How’s life with the women?” someone would ask.
“At least they can read,” I’d shoot back.
“Hey Cranmoor, you’re getting that secretary spread.”
“I think he’s growing breasts, just like them!”
“They’re far better looking than you are,” I’d say. “You’re just jealous because you have to look at someone as ugly as Floyd all day.”
There’d be a hurried exchange of expletives, and we’d all laugh.
They had a point, though: I’d gained ten pounds because I ate the same food as before, but now I didn’t get any exercise. I knew I had to either eat less or start working out. I resolved to exercise more as I ordered a burger, hold the onions. In the interest of calorie reduction, I skipped the French fries and grabbed a diet Coke instead of a regular one.
Food in hand, I headed back to the accounting office. I rounded the corner of the building just in time to see a large man put his forearm across a woman’s throat, pressing her into the blue sedan: Sarah’s car. Then I realized the woman was Sarah.
I froze, but only for a moment. Then I backtracked toward the lunch truck. “Hey Kuta,” I called to one of the bigger guys. “Do me a huge favor, huh? Grab Tucker and come over here?” Kuta looked puzzled, but he tapped Tucker on the shoulder and got his attention. They both walked toward me, curious. Kuta stood six foot three and weighed about two forty. He had a grey-blonde pony tail and a biker beard. Tucker was smaller, but had served in the Marines and had the tattoos to prove it. They both looked scary, much scarier than me. “There’s a problem over there,” I said, pointing. “That’s Sarah from the office.” The two men looked in time to see Sarah’s attacker pull back his hand and slap her across the face. They both broke into a jog, and as the man pulled his hand back a second time, Kuta grabbed it and pulled him off balance. “This ain’t happening in our plant,” Tucker growled at the man. The intruder released Sarah and spun to face them. He tried to hit Kuta with his free hand, but Kuta batted the blow away without difficulty. “It’s none of your business,” the attacker spat. Kuta spun the man easily, and pushed the guy’s arm up between his shoulder blades. “Everything that happens on this property is our business,” Tucker said. “You want to argue about it?” “Go,” Kuta said to Sarah. “We’ll take it from here.” Sarah backed away until she was well out of range, then turned and sprinted for the door. When she’d disappeared inside, Kuta released the man and said, “Now go.” The man glowered at him, not yet convinced, so Kuta hit him with an uppercut that knocked his head backward. As he began to fall forward, Kuta grabbed him and stood him against Sarah’s car. “The man said go,” Tucker repeated, stepping forward. The attacker shook his head. “This ain’t over,” he said. “It is for you,” Kuta said, “unless you want to take your best shot right here.” The attacker eyed the two men, decided his odds were long, and backed away. “It ain’t over,” he said again. “Any time, any place,” Tucker said, grinning. “You come back again and we’ll see.” The man muttered an expletive, turned, and strode away like he still had some pride left.
I froze, but only for a moment. Then I backtracked toward the lunch truck. “Hey Kuta,” I called to one of the bigger guys. “Do me a huge favor, huh? Grab Tucker and come over here?” Kuta looked puzzled, but he tapped Tucker on the shoulder and got his attention. They both walked toward me, curious. Kuta stood six foot three and weighed about two forty. He had a grey-blonde pony tail and a biker beard. Tucker was smaller, but had served in the Marines and had the tattoos to prove it. They both looked scary, much scarier than me. “There’s a problem over there,” I said, pointing. “That’s Sarah from the office.” The two men looked in time to see Sarah’s attacker pull back his hand and slap her across the face. They both broke into a jog, and as the man pulled his hand back a second time, Kuta grabbed it and pulled him off balance. “This ain’t happening in our plant,” Tucker growled at the man. The intruder released Sarah and spun to face them. He tried to hit Kuta with his free hand, but Kuta batted the blow away without difficulty. “It’s none of your business,” the attacker spat. Kuta spun the man easily, and pushed the guy’s arm up between his shoulder blades. “Everything that happens on this property is our business,” Tucker said. “You want to argue about it?” “Go,” Kuta said to Sarah. “We’ll take it from here.” Sarah backed away until she was well out of range, then turned and sprinted for the door. When she’d disappeared inside, Kuta released the man and said, “Now go.” The man glowered at him, not yet convinced, so Kuta hit him with an uppercut that knocked his head backward. As he began to fall forward, Kuta grabbed him and stood him against Sarah’s car. “The man said go,” Tucker repeated, stepping forward. The attacker shook his head. “This ain’t over,” he said. “It is for you,” Kuta said, “unless you want to take your best shot right here.” The attacker eyed the two men, decided his odds were long, and backed away. “It ain’t over,” he said again. “Any time, any place,” Tucker said, grinning. “You come back again and we’ll see.” The man muttered an expletive, turned, and strode away like he still had some pride left.
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