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Arnold Anderson was a problem, and I’d hit that dumb bastard right in the jaw. It was worth the beating I took, seeing him reel backward and knowing that he went down because I hit him. Even if it wasn’t Arn, and it was one of his brothers who did the sabotage, I liked to think they all felt it when I rocked him. I was sure they all heard about it.

There was a small sink in the cell, and I went to it to wash off my face and spit again, to see if blood was still coming. When there was no blood, I washed my mouth out, splashed some water on my face, and tried to decide if it was safe to take a nap. The adrenaline had worn off, and I was exhausted all of a \sudden, but I didn’t want to make myself an easy target.

Suddenly, the door opened, and I patted my face dry with my shirt to see who it was. Shocked, I smiled and went over to talk to them.

Oland was coming in, followed by both Luke and Flynn. Flynn looked starstruck by the experience, and Luke looked asannoyed as I would expect he would be after spending more than a few minutes with the city slicker band manager.

“You’re free to go, for now,” Oland said. “Arn could still charge you, so stay in town.”

“Eat my ass,” I said, brushing by him and joining my brother. I gave him a big hug, and he returned it before pushing me ahead of him through the door. We didn’t speak until we were outside, and I smelled fresh air.

“Oh man, I hate that jail,” I said.

“As you should,” Luke muttered, opening the passenger door of the farm truck so I could get in. “You hurt?”

“Busted ribs. That’s about it, I think.”

“Lucky.”

“I think we are glossing over a lot of facts here,” Flynn said from outside of the truck.

“You coming?” Luke asked.

“Yes, but I need some answers first,” he said. “Specifically, what the hell are you thinking punching a cop?”

I glanced at Luke, and we exchanged a knowing look.

“It’s a long story,” Luke said. “Get in.”

“Well, I have all day,” Flynn said. “So start talking.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” I said. “You’ll talk and he will listen for a little bit, but he has the memory of a goldfish.”

“I heard that,” Flynn said. “You might want to watch what you say about me. I’m this close to dropping your band.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he shouted as he took his seat and fumbled with the seat belt. “Why? You justpunched a cop. I had to spring you from a jail! These are not normal circumstances, Jesse.”

“You realize my name is Jesse James,” I said. “Don’t you think you could do some marketing magic and make that work for you?”

“I …” He paused, his mouth open and one finger in the air, then slowly, his jaw shut. He swallowed and let his hand fall to his lap. Clearing his throat, he kept his face forward and seemed to have calmed down. “Just tell me about why this is a normal thing for you, please.”

As we drove toward the farm, Luke and I gave him the short version of the Anderson and Galloway feud. When we arrived at the ranch, we all got out, and I began to head to my own car. Flynn followed me, with Luke behind him.

“Where are you going?” Flynn asked.

“I have something I need to do,” I said.

“No, no, no,” Luke said. “Last time you had something to do, I brought you to the jail and you hit Arn in the face.”

“It’s not that,” I said.

“Hang on,” Flynn said. “Just hang on, please. For a minute. Let me think this through.” He paced back and forth for a moment while Luke and I watched him. Running his hand through his rapidly thinning hair, he muttered to himself for a few moments and then turned sharply on his heel and faced us both. “I’ve got it.”

“Good. What is it?” I asked.

“We are going to get you away from Foley for a few days,” Flynn said. “Maybe take you down to the Gulf for a bit. Get out on a boat fishing or something. Let you relax and think about music. I think there are some songs in all this. Don’t you?”