Just Beyond the Curve (10 page)

Danny gritted his teeth. It was all he could do not
to hit the fat faced cocksucker in his cocksucker just to wipe the
smirk off his face.

“Cuff up!” the jailer said, holding out a pair of
handcuffs, motioning for Danny to turn around.

Danny turned around and offered his wrists behind
him. “Thought I was being released?” he asked.

“Ya are,” the jailer replied. “Jail policy that ya be
cuffed, Mister Floyd. Until ya get downstairs, anyway.”

They walked down the hallway side by side. The jailer
stopped in front of a stainless steel elevator door, inserted a
small key and turned it. The door opened and they stepped
inside.

“Ever worry about someone taking offense at your
attitude and coming back for a little revenge?”

“Not fer a minute,” the jailer smirked. “People like
you don’t have the balls to come after a cop!”

“I find it hard to believe you qualify,” Danny
smirked back.

The jailer swung his heavy set of keys. They slammed
into Danny’s groin and he folded over with pain. He nearly puked,
but was able to control the impulse. The impulse he couldn’t
control though was the impulse to kill this piece of shit. He
decided he would, but for now he had to play it cool, get out, and
take care of Travis first! Then he could come for this dead man. He
smiled a secret smile and stood up. “Good move,” he said
breathlessly. “Sure wasn’t expecting that!”

“My favorite one,” the jailer replied with a grin.
“You guys can’t control your mouth! You forget you’re cuffed until
you get out. But you run your jibs anyway. So, take the good with
the bad, wiseass!”

“I plan to, Officer Short!” Danny smiled looking at
the name tag for the first time.

“That little move of mine is a good one for teaching
respect, ain’t it?”

“We’ll see, Officer Short!” Danny said icily.

Short humphed. As he did the doors slid open and he
urged Danny out and over to a cage where another cop stood waiting
for them. Short dug in his pocket and handed the other cop Danny’s
‘book in’ card.

“You ever consider opening a wrecking service,
Floyd?” the cop in the cage asked, looking over the police report.
“Seems you did a hell of a job, from what I see here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Danny
replied seriously. “I haven’t done anything to anyone!”

The jailer smirked, as did Short.

“Like I told him upstairs, Lucas, his kind don’t have
the balls to get
serious
!”

Lucas smiled, looked at Danny as if judging his
potential. “Don’t let ‘im fool ya, Short. They’re full of
surprises.” Lucas turned away when he saw a smirk on Short’s face.
He knew the man had been living on borrowed time for a long time.
One day he would get his, and wouldn’t have time to wonder why.

“Old men worry too much,” Short stated, grabbing
Danny’s wrist and removing the cuffs roughly. “I ain’t scared of
none of you young punks!”

By the time he finished Lucas placed a brown paper
bag on the counter. The name Floyd was written across it in black
magic marker. “Check your property and sign this card if it’s all
there,” Lucas said respectfully.

Danny quickly went through his property and finding
it all there, signed the card, then climbed out of the orange
jumpsuit and into his own clothes. He began putting his stuff in
its proper place on his body. He felt like a human being again, as
he buckled his belt and slid his feet into his
Tony
Lamas
.

Short stepped to a door and when the lock popped he
pushed it open and held it for Danny. “See ya soon, Sugar,” he said
smugly with a knowing grin.

“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit, Short!” Danny smiled and
winked. The iciness of it caused Short’s smile to drop into a look
of worry. Danny laughed.

Danny wasn’t met by anyone. He walked over to the
elevators, pushed a down button and waited. He rode the elevator
down and went out on the street. He looked up and down the street,
hoping to see someone waiting for him. There was no one. He was
surprised to see the bright sunlight. Still the temperature was
kind of cool. He hunched his shoulders, stuffed his fingers down
inside his Levis pockets and started walking toward home.

Two blocks from the jail he was still planning his
revenge on Short. He saw a taxi speed by and remembered he had
thirty-five dollars. A taxi would be better than a five mile walk
in the cold, he decided. He turned around and started walking
backwards waiting for a taxi. Several passed without stopping,
despite his efforts to wave one down. He took a twenty from his
wallet and when he saw another cab coming he waved it. The cab
pulled over and stopped for him.

After giving the address he leaned back and sighed
with relief. It was then the pressure began to rise once again and
his anger rose with it. From the car radio a John Travis song was
playing. It was a very good song, he decided. But, it should have
been his!

CHAPTER TEN

In the studio John Travis and his Travelers were
driving through one of their latest songs. Everyone in the studio
was into the pounding music, melody and story of good love gone bad
but rescued at the last instant and promises to live happily ever
after for everyone involved; even the loser!

Sandra was in the sound booth with Toby. He was
rocking to the music, in his own world, and working the mixing
board with the precision of an orchestra conductor. He didn’t miss
a beat when the phone near his left hand began to ring. Sandra
picked it up and brought it to her ear. She listened, spoke,
grinned, then returned the phone to the receiver. She reached
forward and flipped a switch. “Break guys. Sorry to interrupt.”

John and the Travelers stumbled to an ending, each
looking over at Sandra accusingly.

She smiled, fanned her face with her hand and pointed
a long skinny finger at John. “John,” she said seriously, but with
a smile, “you’d better get on your way. Your baby is,” she laughed.
“Judy went into labor fifteen minutes ago!”

John looked confused, but stripped the Fender strap
off over his head. “It’s three days early!” he argued.

“It’s not an exact science, yet,” Sandra laughed, as
John headed for the door.

“It should be,” he argued. “We keep to our schedule!
Least Mother Nature could do is keep to hers!”

Fifteen minutes later John was rolling into the
hospital parking lot. He raced up to the entrance and inside,
jerked the doors back and rushed through. He raced up to the
information desk and said, “I’m having a baby! Err, my wife’s is!
She’s having a baby,” he stammered.

“That would be the Maternity ward,” the young pretty
pinstriper replied, laughing at John’s excitement. “Tenth floor.
Elevators are just down the hall, there,” she added, pointing
around the corner in the semi-direction of the elevators.

John went hurriedly down the hall to the elevators.
He arrived just in time to catch one with the doors opening. He
stepped in and pushed the button for the tenth floor. It seemed
forever before the doors closed and he was on his way up to
Judy.

Half an hour after John arrived in the maternity
ward, Judy was rolled into ‘delivery’. John followed clad in a
green sterile gown and mask. He was a nervous wreck. He held her
hand and breathed with her as she huffed and puffed like a
locomotive, her face red, swollen and sweat soaked. She moaned and
groaned, then huffed some more, glaring at John accusingly.

“This is
all
your fault, John Travis!” she
accused.

“I told you we should’na done it!” he replied
seriously, his face twisted in anguish behind his mask. He was
miserable and it showed!

Judy caught her breath, raised up and pushed hard,
huffing and puffing harder, until she screamed, clamped down on
John’s hand and glared even harder at him. He moaned in sympathetic
misery for the girl he loved.

“Come on Judy,” the pediatrician coaxed, “one more
push should do the trick! It’s crowning!”

“I didn’t trick’er, Doc!” John said solemnly, looking
from Judy’s sweaty, red, pain filled face, to the doctor, then back
to Judy. “I tried to tell’er, but she wouldn’t listen! I don’t like
it here in this hospital. Momma died here! Hurry Judy!”

“John, hush!” Judy cried angrily. “I need to
concentrate!”

“Okay, but we don’t do this again! It hurts you too
much.”

“Liar! We need two more!” she accused. “Now let me
concentrate and pppuuUSSSHHHH, AAAHHHHH!” she screamed, her voice
pain filled.

“Doc, just pull it out like a calf!” John urged
impatiently.

John nearly panicked, seeing the doctor didn’t
respond, but instead started laughing at John’s nervousness and
near blind panic. “Doc just grab its hind legs and pull as hard as
you can! It’ll come out!” He started for the doctor. Judy grabbed
his hand and squeezed hard, holding him in place.

“Push Judy,” the doctor coaxed again, barely
controlling his laughter. “It’s coming!”

Judy pushed again for all she was worth. Then she
started crying. John looked around helplessly, then began crying
and comforting Judy. He was in far more pain than Judy. But his was
for the one person he loved above all others. “I’m sorry Sweetie,”
he cried miserably. “I won’t do it again! I don’t like this
hospital! Can you please hurry a little?”

She took him into her arms and comforted him as best
she could under the circumstances. “Yes you will,” she said. “But,
I can’t hurry, Love. This takes time,” she consoled him.

Then the baby popped out and its crying filled the
delivery room.

“A fine son, Judy, Mister Travis,” the doctor beamed,
holding the slimy, bloody, wrinkled morsel that was supposed to be
another human being, but looked more like a raisin.

After the delivery nurse had cleaned and bundled the
infant into a swaddling blanket, she laid the bundle into Judy’s
arms. Judy directed his mouth to her nipple and he began to feed as
if starving to death.

John smiled down at the mother and infant and said,
“Shoot, there ain’t much to this, is there?”

Judy smiled up at him, not wanting to say what a wuss
he had been during the entire ordeal. She was glad none of their
friends had been there to witness John’s absurd near panic. She
knew she would never forget it. Nor would she allow him to, either,
but she would only remind him in private.

Later, in her room, Judy was holding John when the
nurse brought the baby in and laid him in her arms. She folded the
corner of the blanket back and looked down at the small, wrinkled,
sleeping face. “Isn’t he beautiful?” she asked softly.

“Looks kinda old, don’t he?”John observed wisely.

“Boy, you ain’t very smart,” Misty said from her
chair in the corner. “He’s a newborn! They’re supposed to look old
and wise. Unlike their daddy!” she added, then laughed
good-naturedly. At the same time, she lunged up, grabbed John and
kissed him full on the mouth, “I love you, Buster!” she declared.
“You make me proud!”

“Oh,” John replied, wondering at Misty’s sudden
admission.

“He’s just beautiful!” Judy said. “He has your eyes,
Daddy! And your nose, too!” She finished in baby-talk. John
unconsciously felt for his eyes and nose.

“Huh uh!” he said, feeling his nose. “Did he
understand what you just said?” he asked wonderingly.

“Well, of course!” Judy replied with a laugh.

“He don’t take after me, then,” John replied. “I
didn’t understand any of what you said. I don’t like this place,”
he added looking around the room as if seeing ghosts.

“Big surprise!” Misty harrumphed, shaking her head in
disbelief at John’s ignorance, or innocence, or superstitions,
whatever.

“Momma, be nice!” Judy said calmingly.

Misty looked at her daughter and grandson. Her heart
melted and tears formed in her eyes. She took them both gently into
her arms and kissed them lovingly.

John smiled with satisfaction, then backed up and sat
down in a chair. He stared at Judy, Misty and Lil’Billy, as the
baby had come to be known, until he drifted into a restful
sleep.

*****

While John and his family celebrated the birth of
their newest family member, Danny Floyd lay in a drug and alcohol
induced stupor. His parents, on the other hand, lay in their
marital bed dead and beginning to smell. Danny had killed them
within minutes of his arrival home from jail. He had then proceeded
to get drunk and plan his next move. He’d teach them all that he
deserved a little respect! Even an animal deserved to be met at the
door after he’d gotten released from jail!

Danny mumbled in his sleep and then his eyes opened.
His first thought was that he had to go and pay a visit to John
Travis, the very reason behind all his current problems. Besides,
it just wasn’t fair that Travis was getting worldwide recognition
and his mentor, Danny Floyd, was getting zilch! Well, he decided,
I’ll sit that aright, alright! I’ll show the world that even the
greatest sometimes goes unrecognized until they put themselves on
the front page.

He searched around until he found his bottle and took
a long strong drink. He next searched for and found his baggy of
crack rocks and his glass pipe. He placed a ten dollar rock in the
bowl and held his lighter under the end, the flame crackling the
rock as he sucked the thick blue white smoke deep into his lungs,
instantly feeling the comforting, quietening, incredible sense of
well-being sweep over him. Not once did he think of his parents in
their bedroom; he only thought of John Travis and success.

When he finished the rock he lay back on his bed and
rode the waves of wonder that the drug had brought him. After a few
minutes he sat up, stepped over to his guitar stand and picked up
his Ovation Yarri acoustic and after sitting back in the edge of
the bed he began to play. The music that flowed from the soundboard
was mind-bogglingly beautiful; his fingers danced along the fret
board effortlessly bringing forth a sound that would make
Eric
Clapton, Kurt Hammitt,
and
Eddie van Halen
gasp with
awestruck wonder.