Page 3 of Nash Falls

Oh shit.

His name was Isaiah York, but he was universally known as “Shock.” Nash had never known from where that moniker had originated. As a boy he had once asked his father about it. Ty Nash had growled, “Maybe I’ll tell you at some point, sonny boy, but you have toearnthat right.”

Apparently, Nash never had, and thus the genesis of “Shock” remained a mystery.

The size of a Mack truck, the Black man had been Ty Nash’s bestfriend growing up in Mississippi, and then his chief mate in Vietnam, although Nash senior had not been the most enlightened when it came to race relations. As a child Nash had even heard his father call Shock the N-word, but the enormous man seemed to somehow take it as a sign of respect or affection, or something. Maybe it was an Army or perhaps a Vietnam thing, Nash didn’t know. He just thought it was weird as hell.

Shock, stylishly attired in a dark pinstripe suit that fit his enormous body well, reached the lectern, turned to face the crowd, gave his old comrades a thumbs-up, and, in a voice that mirrored his size, boomed, “Some folks here who should be here all right.” Hoots and hollers came from the Harley club. Shock let it quiet down before turning to look directly at… Walter Nash.

Oh, for the love of God, thought Nash as he sensed what was coming.

“Then you got you folks never should be sittin’ their damn asses down on these fine pews to send off this man’s man to his eternal rest and reward. No sir. To hell with ’em, I say, right, crew?”

The Harleys all started to clap and hoot their agreement.

As Shock’s gaze bore into Nash he closed his eyes for a moment and felt his wife’s fingers clutch ever tighter over his. When he opened his eyes, Maggie was no longer manhandling her phone or playing with her hair. She was staring up at Shock, along with everyone else.

The elderly minister had looked like he’d been electrified when Shock had cursed from the altar. “Sir, really, that is hardly—”

“Now,” boomed Shock. “We here to see us off a good man, a brother, in peace and war. Die for the dude and he do the same for me. In Nam. And right here in the good old US of Fuckin’ A.” He held up a knotty fist the size of a pineapple for emphasis. “Truth. No lie.”

More hoots, hollers, and claps came from the Harley crew.

The now red-faced minister rose and made a few tottering stepsalong an altar that had been verbally desecrated by a man who did not look remotely finished F-bombing out.

Shock swiveled his gaze to the flag-draped casket, which stood on a wheeled platform in the center of the aisle.

“Ty, you be gone but I’mma tell you somethin’.” Shock pounded his beefy chest. “This Black ass is gonna miss you, Ty, like I ain’t never missed nobody in my whole goddamn life. No lie. No lie!”

Nash glanced at the minister, who had now frozen in his walk.

Shock first pointed to the sky and then to the floor. “Ty, ain’t sure where your ass be endin’ up there or down there, just like my ass when it be my time to kick off.” Shock looked back at the fine coffin. “But wherever you be, Ty, I’mma always have your back, man. When I get there, you see. We endin’ up in the same place, that be for damn sure.” Shock pounded the lectern. “God or the devil, here come Ty Nash, right to your sucklin’ breast.”

Nash again eyed the minister, who still seemed rocked by thegoddamncomment, but thesuckling breastreference appeared to have scored an impact, too.

Shock glanced at the shocked minister. “Okay, Man ’a God. All yours, baby. Let’s finish this thing. Ty got to get on goin’. No lie! But first things first. Men! Tention! Forward, march!”

The Harleys stood as one and lined up in formation like the fine soldiers they had once been. They trooped single-file to the casket. There, Shock joined them. And each man took a turn pounding on the casket three times. Six men, eighteen blows. And then Shock finished it off in a voice that boomed like cannon fire: “Can I get me an Amen for this man gone to his eternalsalvation, ordamnation? Can I, people? Come on now! Do your duty!”

Everyone in the stunned crowd, including Nash, his wife and daughter, and even the stricken minister, joined in with a hearty Amen.

Shock then marched over to where Nash was sitting, pointed a long finger at his head, and bellowed, “He thought you was thebiggest stuck-up prick in the whole goddamn world. And I’mma tell you what. Where I lookin’ from, man be right on the money. Just like always. Ty know. Tyknow. No lie. No lie!”

“Good God!” exclaimed Nash. “My choosing tennis over football in high school?That’sthe reason for all this!”

Shock eyed him steadily. “If you think that, you ain’t nearly as smart as your daddy said you was.”

He then glanced at Judith and Maggie and said tenderly, “Ladies, my heartfelt condolences on your loss.”

Shock looked once more at Nash and mouthed one word:prick.

On that final note, Shock turned and walked out with his crew.

A minute later, the Harleys powered up, and they all listened to the throaty roar of side pipes and rubber winding up across asphalt. Nash thought he could hear Shock scream above all this cacophony of baffling noise, “Bro!”

CHAPTER

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