Page 50 of Spooked
Mouse waves and winks at me when I catch sight of him.
It’s shoulder to shoulder in here now, but no one’s complaining. The room is buzzing with laughter and voices, and adding to the cacophony, a jukebox plays rock in the background. If I’m not mistaken, the playlist is one of Peg’s.
I’ve downed half my bottle when a sudden loud whistle pierces the air. All conversation stops, and the music is turned off. As one, we all turn to face the entrance where, framed by Drummer, Wraith, Peg and Blade, Wizard is entering, pushed by Amy in a wheelchair.
Then the hollers, the cries of welcome back, deafen my ears, making me glad all remnants of the headache I'd had for weekshave finally gone away. Wizard’s brought into the centre of the room, and ceremoniously, Drummer hands him his cut, the one that proudly bears thepresidentpatch. Cheers abound.
Again, Drummer whistles, then calls for silence. When someone passes him a beer, he raises it as if in salute.
“The last couple of months have been tricky,” he starts. “But we’ve made our way through. I’d like to officially welcome our rightful president back to the club.” He pauses and searches the room. “Get over here, Hound, and you Hawk. Where’s Throttle?” Spying him, he beckons, “Get your asses over here.”
We elbow our way through the crowd, then form a semi-circle around Wiz.
Drummer steps back, and it’s Wizard who starts to talk, his voice firmer and stronger than I expected after all the time he’s spent in a hospital bed.
“Brothers, I’m back, and ready to take up the mantle. I might not be ready to ride, but I can sit at the head of the table and put all you fuckers in your place.” A round of laughter greets his words. “I’m happy to announce that Hound, Throttle and Hawk will be back by my side.” As another round of cheering bursts out, I glow with pride knowing that, while I doubted it for a while, I’ve now resumed my position as sergeant-at-arms.
Wizard hasn’t finished, and he again waves for silence. “I’d like to thank Drummer, Wraith, Peg and Blade who stood up when we were taken down. They’ve kept this club running, and I was able to heal, knowing it was in safe hands.” Being so close to him, I can see his mouth quirk. “So please join me in raising your glasses to the F.O.G.s.”
“Hey, that was a secret. They didn’t know we called them that!”
“Worst secret in the world, Sam,” someone calls back.
Wizard’s chuckling, then, while he can still make himself heard, yells out, “Ride Satan’s Devils!”
“Satan’s Devils ride together,” the whole room yells back.
As if that’s a signal, the prospects start popping champagne corks, and I take my cue to step back, as everyone wants to greet, talk to, and welcome their president home.
Finding her way over to me, Maeve links her hand through mine. “Love your club,” she tells me. “And I love you so much.”
Contentment rolls over me, knowing I have everything I could ever want—an old lady who’s the other half of me, and the sergeant-at-arms patch on my cut.
How did we get here? Well, maybe I’ll take my cue from my brothers and not think too much on that. Though it might, one day, make a good fairy tale to tell our grandkids. But perhaps not too late at night.