Thursday, October 24, 2013

Day 198 - Upside Down - Chapter 34 - (1276 words)


©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UPSIDE DOWN, BACK TO FRONT

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 34




Don’t let others choose fights for you.
He was at the bar and took up his usual spot. They knew him here ad gace him a respectful distance that friends can get. Especially friends you know have a life beyond the normal social parameters. People knew very little about him, but they knew about his abilities, his capabilities.
So when he sat in the same place long enough, it became his. It was quiet enough to be availble most of the time, that’s how he sat there with some regularity. He never insisted on his spot being free, but the bar manager knew his fondness for it and saw to it that people knew it was his, no one had ever been asked to leave it, but few had chosen it or occupied it in the times that he was here. He had times that he conducted meetings here, chosen for the time of day when few were round.
Reputation, regularity and reliability. These three things ensured his spot was his. He never worfked for it, never earned it, but still felt that he made it happen and that he deserved it. He had brought his Dad here more than once to see him work. It was this work that had made his Dad proud of him.
It took him a while to come out about his other jobs to his father, never really sure how he would take it. Theye saw each other in themselves. They hid parts of their lives until they brough them out in the open and saw that they were the same. The same person, the same path.
The advantage of a generation of experience was the gift of father to son.
One day son? More than this will be yours. We can get you ready, you can take the prize.
The work he did here was less beating and more molding. Molding people took finesse and skill that few people had. You could do it obviously and violenetly, but fear and respect were not always the same thing. Some times they were, but not exclusively.
Today he was alone with his thoughts longer than ususal. He had planned on thinking through his options with James, but the spectre of his fathers path through the next months, hopefully years, was a pressing concern. Pressing in harder than he wanted or needed.
After an hour or so his meeting arrived and they got to business. Ivan was clear with his needs and this associate was querying the how and they why of it all, seeing of there was an opportunity.
Ivan expects this, he is after all following the best path, find your advantage and take your advantage. There was no opening here for anyone else though. He laid out his needs, his requirements. Bullet points of requirements, what he wants, when he wants, were he wants.
No more.
As they haggle on price, Ivan is careful to keep the need low and the timeframe intact so that he can see he’s not to be messed with, but that the job is not worth too much. That drives the price up and opens the door for a partnership he does not want. Cannot accept.
They have sorted the deal. How the person stops the traffic in that time and place is not Ivan’s problem. The assurance is born of a long standing work relationshop that thrived on delivery, not making problems or excuses.
They are to drink on the deal, so Ivan goes to the bar to get the contractual obligation filling two glasses.
At the bar is a red faced man and an angry woman.
Ivan can see that his is a pot boiling over. The man is bubbling with nervous energy, giving off a heat that anyone can see except the woman who is either oblivious or uncaring.
Should he intervene? Not directly of course, but he could say hi to the man, be friendly and divert that energy away from the couple to a new external area. He was not frightened or threatened, and who cared if this guy was angry at him. Angry people who cannot think straight are not a threat when you can see them coming. Unexpected violence is much harder to deal with and much harder to dish out. You want to win, then you pick and choose the terms of the fight, you pick the location, you pick the time. That man had none of these to his name.
Alternately he could defuse the situation and the anger could evaporate in the light of exposure. That would make the problem go away.
Ivan did not think that would work.
The bar manager did not think that would work, he also did not want the fight that option one may bring. He could man up and deal with the problem, but he did not want to and the outcome was less than desirable.
A quiet evening please.
Ivan held up two fingers silently and the man knew what he wanted. He did business here and the terms were well known and set with people who knew him.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to fucking do.”
The bartender stopped between the glasse of whiskey, one full the other in limbo.
The couple were in a world of their own and neither cared what or where they were to others. The problems were insular, but their arena public.
“Jesus, would you watch your language?” She was less concerned for the location and intending to reign him in, letting him know that he was not acceptable to her in this way. This was a fight for control.
She had it.
He wanted it.
Badly.
“Are you fucking telling me not to fucking swear woman?” His neck, the back part with a slight fur from being overdue for a haircut was reddening beneath his rage.
“That’s enough, this will stop.” She eyeballed him and fired the salvo intended to take him down.
“Really?” It was a challenge, one she did expect but before she can deliver what she thinks will calm him down the bar manaer speaks up.
“Hey, whatever this is – take it somewhere else please. We’re trying to have a quiet afternoon thanks.” It’s placating, it’s not blaming and it’s designed to ease out of the problem. He pours the second drink and hands the two glasses to Ivan who nods at the counter. He puts them down and Ivan makes no move to pick them up, instead waiting to see what happens, feeling the gratitude and camaraderie across the bar of a man in the trenches with him.
The angry man notices him and wheels about.
“What?” He challenges, but in that one syllable is a surrender. He was going to ask “What the fuck are you waiting for?” the look he saw cut him off at one breath and told him to go no further, he recognised the man. He knew of him, but did not know him.
Don’t let others pick your fights.
Now it was too late, he was angry and he felt fear and shame at the fear in front of his woman, one he could not control. One he could not wrest control from.
“You stupid man, you stupid, stupid… child.How many more people are you going to piss off today huh?” The words were noise filling the silence but the match that was struck was the light push to his nearest shoulder. It was not strong, it was unexpected.
It caught him off balance, off guard and it lit him up.


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